by Lund, S. E.
I shrugged. "He appreciates art. Is your…" I said and hesitated. "Friend coming as well?"
"Not this time."
I nodded and turned back to my supplies, upset that Sefton would be there, and not with his girlfriend.
"I guess I'll see you then," he said, still standing beside my bench, despite how hard I was trying to be obvious about ignoring him.
Finally, I glanced up at him and forced a smile. "I guess so."
Then I turned back to my pad of paper, and he walked away.
So he knew I was going on the safari, he was coming along as well, and wanted to tell me. Did he want to ruin it for me?
He didn't bother me the rest of the class and I was glad when Jomo drove up and took me to the butcher on the way home so I could pick up some steaks for dinner. I was relieved that there were no further awkward encounters with Sefton.
I spent the rest of the afternoon reading news headlines and my email from my father, which detailed his busy week in preparation for the upcoming nomination meeting.
At about five forty-five PM, I got a text from Drake.
Particularly hard day at work. I'm going to be a bit late for supper as Michael is taking the residents out for a drink to help us all unwind. I'll be home around seven. I hope you're wearing that pretty little sundress I like so much… I need to get lost in you tonight.
I texted back a simple response.
I am, and I'm all yours.
That seemed to please him.
Mmm…
I smiled to myself and put my phone away. He felt he had to go out with Michael and the residents after a hard day. I understood. Him being home at six or seven didn't really matter because he'd be all mine once he did get home. I had to use that as solace.
So, while Drake was out at a pub unwinding with his boss and the residents, I sat at home alone, a half-filled glass of wine in my hand, the channel changer in the other, and watched satellite television.
Seven turned into eight and then eight into nine-thirty. I kept checking my phone for another text message but there was nothing from him. Finally, before ten, Drake arrived home leaning on the shoulder of a very cheerful Michael, the Mercedes Drake had rented in the driveway, Michael's car behind it.
Drake was obviously drunk, smiling at me, his hair disheveled.
"Hi, Katie. Sorry I'm so late but we had a few more than I thought," he said, his words slurred.
I frowned and turned to Michael. "I hope Drake didn't drive home like that?"
Michael smiled. "No," he said and pointed behind him. I checked out the Mercedes and Sam was getting out. "Sam was kind enough to drive Drake's car back."
Heat rose in my cheeks when I saw her. She walked up the driveway and handed the keys to Drake, who accepted them, a crooked smile on his face.
"Here you go, Doctor Dizzy," she said, smiling at him. She stood across from Drake, and she was almost as tall as him, her eyes almost on the level with his. She turned to me, an unreadable expression on her face. "At least he's a fun drunk," she said, smiling at me in a condescending way. "It's good to let your hair down now and then."
"Thank you so much for driving my car back," he said, before turning back to me. "Don't be mad," he said. "I forgot to eat lunch we were so busy and then I drank a bit too much…"
Michael assisted Drake into the house and let him sit on the sofa. Once he was seated, Drake let out a huge sigh, his head falling forward, chin to his chest.
Before he left, Michael turned to me, laying one arm on my shoulder. "Don't be too hard on him, Kate. He had a really rough day. Lost a pediatric patient he'd been caring for. It hit him hard. I think the boy reminded him of Liam. He needed to unwind."
Michael nodded as if that made everything right and left, Sam following him down the driveway to his car.
I closed the door and took in a deep breath. That did make it understandable, but I was still jealous that he'd been drinking and actually got drunk with Sam. I remembered her comment at the mixer that Drake was fun when drunk. I stifled that jealousy and instead went to Drake, sitting beside him. I took his hand and he glanced up at me, his eyes bleary.
"I'm so sorry, Katie," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I know I'm really late. I didn’t mean to be."
"I know," I said and nodded. I leaned up to him and kissed his cheek. "Do you want me to grill you a steak?"
He shook his head. "Save them for tomorrow. I had a burger at the pub. I really need to crash."
He struggled up to his feet and swayed for a moment so I took his arm and led him to the bedroom. He went to the en-suite bathroom and leaned on the countertop for a moment as if trying to steady himself. Then, he brushed his teeth, watching me as I leaned against the doorjamb, watching him.
"Don't be mad at me," he said, his mouth filled with white foam. "I had a bad day."
"I know," I said once more. "Michael told me you lost a young patient."
He nodded and closed his eyes, standing still for a long moment as if fighting his emotions.
"He made me think of Liam. Kate, I want a son but I'm afraid…"
I nodded and went to him, threading my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his back.
"Just because Liam had cancer doesn't mean all your children will."
"I couldn’t take it. It was hard enough with Liam. What would I do if it was our son that we raised? Or our daughter?" With that, he shook his head, his eyes tightly closed.
I couldn't image it. "It won't happen," I said, although I didn't know that for sure. It seemed unlikely that two of Drake's children would have leukemia.
Drake sighed once more and rinsed his mouth, then turned to embrace me. We stood in the bathroom for several long moments, holding each other and despite being stood up for dinner and sex, I couldn't be angry with Drake. Losing that young boy he was caring for hit him hard and he dealt with it the only way he knew at the moment.
I started to take off his clothes, his jacket, undoing the cuffs of his deep blue shirt. He stood mute and watched me, his eyes on my face.
"You're so good to me," he whispered. "I spent the entire evening with Sam and you aren't even mad."
"You were also with Michael and the other residents, right?" I said, keeping my voice light. "Why would I be mad?"
He shook his head. "I wish she wasn't here doing her residency. I didn’t want her to come. You have to know that."
"I do," I said softly and forced a smile.
"Did Mr. deVilliers hit on you today?" he said, his eyes half-hooded while I removed his belt.
"Not really," I said, remembering that Sefton was coming on the safari.
"What does that mean, not really? Half-heartedly? I don’t like to think of him pestering you, Katie. I'd like to punch his lights out."
I laughed at that. "That's the booze talking. What was it this time? Guinness or vodka?"
"Both." Drake smiled a crooked smile at me. Then, he closed his eyes and swayed a bit, his face blanching. "Oh, God. Please leave, Katie. I think I'm going to puke…"
I put my arm around him and turned him towards the toilet. "I'll help you."
"No, no. Please go…" He made a face and leaned over the toilet. He coughed and waved a hand at me, as if to make me leave and so I did, closing the door behind me.
"Let me know if you need me."
I heard him retch and then some sounds I didn't really want to hear as he vomited. He coughed and sputtered for a while and then I heard the water running in the sink.
"Oh, God," he muttered.
"Can I get you anything?" I called through the bathroom door.
"A time machine so I can go back to before I drank those vodka shooters?"
I smiled. "No can do. How does sympathy and a cold cloth on your forehead sound?"
"That sounds good," he said and opened the door. His cheeks were flushed and he shook his head. "What an idiot. You'd think as a medical man I'd know enough not to mix booze."
"You’re also a human, undern
eath the godlike-persona of a highly specialized neurosurgeon. Come to bed," I said and put my arm around his waist. He threw an arm over my shoulder. Together, we walked to the bed.
"Not so godlike when I'm puking."
"Not so much." I steered him to his side of the bed
Then, I finished undressing him, removing his shirt, jeans and socks so that he stood before me with only his boxer briefs on.
"I promised you several orgasms tonight, I seem to recall…"
"You can take care of that promise tomorrow," I said as I helped him lie down on the bed.
I went back to the washroom and wet a washcloth for his forehead.
"Right now," I said, draping it across his brow. "You should try to sleep. I'll bring a trash can so you can use it in the night if you need it."
"Not very romantic, when your fiancé is too sick to make love," he murmured, his eyes closing as I covered him up.
I kissed his cheek and he made a kissing motion with his mouth but didn't try to kiss me. I turned the light off and went to the bathroom to do my own nightly ablutions. Poor Drake. I'd only seen him drunk a few times. He was a pleasant-enough drunk, not belligerent or whiny. Still, I wish he could go back in time and not drink the vodka shooters, but I could imagine him doing it to numb the pain.
We always had tomorrow and the rest of the week to make up for this disaster of a date night.
Still, I lay awake for a long time that night, with Drake snoring softly beside me, thinking of Drake and Sam. I bet she was enjoying him, watching him get progressively drunker, losing a bit of that tight control he liked to keep over himself. Was she hoping he'd lose enough control that she could step in and take advantage?
I imagined it – his voice would be a bit louder, his words less carefully chosen, his smile more free.
I'd have to get him to drink a little more in my company now and then, so I could enjoy him when he lost a bit of control. Once more, I was jealous of Sam – jealous that she got Drake when he was a fun drunk, not one who was puking and falling asleep on the bed. She got to enjoy him at work, when he was doing what he did for a living, when he followed his passion. I got him the rest of the time.
It had to be enough, but there was a part of me that couldn’t help but feel like I didn’t get the best of him the way she did.
The next morning, Drake called Michael early and asked for the day off.
"I hate doing it," he said to me as I lay in bed beside him. "But I'm pretty much good for nothing."
He spent the morning lying in the shade by the pool with sunglasses on, drinking copious amounts of water and juice and generally taking it very easy. I joined him after my shower and a quick breakfast.
"So tell me what an asshole I was last night," he said, a rueful expression on his face.
"You weren't an asshole at all," I replied. "You were a polite drunk, apologizing profusely for puking and otherwise ruining my date night."
"I'm sorry, Kate. I hate having to say sorry about something like that. Asinine."
Drake told me about his young patient, a boy with a rare brain tumor that pressed on motor nerves and gave him seizures and tremors. The tumor was inoperable, but they used chemo to shrink the size of the lesion and Drake performed deep brain stimulation to offset the tremor so the boy could at least eat and speak.
He was in for another round of deep brain stimulation when he died of a rare side effect, leaving Drake to console the parents. It brought up everything with Liam and so Drake had felt particularly helpless and even hopeless about prospects for him having a child of his own.
"After Liam, I'd hate to have another child with cancer," he said to me, taking my hand. We lay on two recliners in the shade of a tree by the pool, the warmth of the day starting to build.
"Is it likely that another child of yours would have the same cancer?"
Drake shrugged. "Probably not, but stranger things have happened. I've seen so many rare and unexpected things in my career, I've learned not to count out any possibility, however remote."
I squeezed his hand. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
He sighed and turned back to the view, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.
I left Drake by the pool and went inside to work on the painting of him sitting in the bathtub. I had become completely immersed in it when I noticed him standing in the doorway watching me.
"Can I come in?"
I smiled and turned to face him, my brush in hand. "Of course. I'm used to having other students around when I work so no worries. But no peeking."
"Aww, that's no fair. Let me see it!"
"You know the rules."
I stood and stopped him from coming around to see my canvas, my fingers threading through his.
"When you're on the safari, will you be standing around painting live tigers and lions?"
I laughed and kissed him, one hand on his shoulder because he was still trying to glance over and see my painting.
"From what I've read, we'll be painting from a safe position and won't be in any real danger."
"Good." He nodded, trying to dodge around me.
"Stop. You can't see it until it's finished. That's the rule…"
"No fair," he said and pretended to fight with me, but he didn't really try very hard. "The three stooges got to see your work in Chelsea. Why not me?"
"Because," I said and stood in between him and my canvas. "You're the subject matter. You can wait until I'm finished."
"Oh, all right," he said and I felt his muscles slacken. "If you insist."
"I insist.”
It was then I realized that I hadn't told him about Sefton going on the art safari. Ugh. I hated the thought that he would be with us on the safari, but there was nothing to do about it except cancel and I really didn't want to do that either. I frowned, wondering how to phrase it.
"What's that look for, Ms. Bennet? Something bothering you?"
I sighed and put my hands on his shoulders, looking in his eyes.
"Drake, I have something to tell you…"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
At the sound of my voice, Drake frowned, his eyes narrowing.
"I'm afraid to ask what it is."
I sighed and ran my fingers down his shoulders to his hands, which I took in mine. "It's really not that important. Sefton deVilliers is coming along on the safari."
"What?" He glanced away and then turned his gaze to me, his eyes on mine. "This is too much, Kate. I could tolerate him being in your class because he's an instructor, but this?"
I frowned. "It's one of the few art safaris in the area. I can't control whether he goes or not."
"There's no doubt he's going in the hopes that he can seduce you while you're alone out on the savannah."
"The way Sam tries to get you drunk so she can take advantage of you?"
Drake frowned at that.
"Drake, he has a girlfriend. Besides, if he is hoping to seduce me, he's going to be sorely disappointed, since I have absolutely no interest in him."
He exhaled loudly and pulled me into his arms. "Christ, and here I thought the safari would be a great chance for you to get away from it all, enjoy yourself when I'd be busy all weekend. Now, I don't want you to go but I also don't want you to cancel because of a buffoon."
"Maybe I should cancel. I can make up an excuse about being sick, or something," I said, unhappy at the thought of canceling but unhappy about Drake being unhappy.
Drake hesitated, and I could see him struggle with his words. "I don't like the thought of him being there, and I'm not there to get in between you two," he said and stroked my cheek.
"I know," I said and laid my head on his shoulder. "I feel that way about Sam." We stood like that for a few moments.
Finally, I looked up at him. "I have to live my life, Drake. I can't hide from people I don't like. I don't enjoy the idea that Sefton is going to be there, but he's more of an annoyance than anything else. He's not a threat to me or to us."
&n
bsp; Drake nodded, but his expression was dark. He ran his hand over my hair and then forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "He's a jerk. I'm glad you told me about this. I would have been upset if you hadn't told me."
"I learned my lesson with Kurt. I'll tell you everything, and you'll tell me everything, right?"
"Yes," Drake said. "Perfect honesty and openness. If you feel something, you tell me. I need to know how you feel, and you need to know how I feel."
I hugged him more closely. I felt as if Drake was starting to trust me more completely and I him, but he was so busy with his work and teaching that I felt as if we were rarely together for very long. We rarely discussed anything or had time to be a couple.
Wednesday was overcast, the sky filled with ominous clouds. Drake woke me before he left. He was already showered, dressed and ready to go, and I was still almost completely covered by the sheets, my face in the pillows.
"Hey, sleepyhead, I'm going."
He kissed my cheek, and then my shoulder. I rolled onto my back, the sheets pulling back to reveal my naked breasts.
"Mmm," he said, nuzzling first one and then the other. "How can I go to work when you're so warm and delicious looking?"
"I wish you could stay in bed with me all day, but I have my class."
"That bastard deVilliers gets to see you longer than I do. It makes me very jealous, Kate."
"You don't need to be," I said. "I tolerate him because he's a good artist and I can learn from him."
He frowned at that, but kissed my cheek, my forehead and my chin. "I don't want him teaching you anything."
"Drake…"
"I'm serious, Kate. Please stay away from him. Ignore him."
I looked in his eyes. "What if he has something helpful to tell me about my work?"
He shook his head slowly, as if fighting with himself.
"I'll be home around eight, if nothing comes in."
He stood and left me on the bed, going to the closet to pull out a jacket. He stopped at the door and glanced back at me, his expression thoughtful.