Next to You (Life)

by Claudia Y. Burgoa

  “Rusty has flown before.” I pick her up by the waist and climb up the stairs of the jet. “You’re better than this, Little One, coward doesn’t look pretty on you.” I have no idea what the big deal is, she’ll love them once she meets them. “If you don’t have fun, I’ll make it up to you.”

  “You got a new plane?” she asks, as I set her down and she looks around. I nod and remember her absent mood the day we took her back from North Carolina after they discharged her from the hospital. A subject we don’t talk about, she dealt with it and says that as with everything else in her life it will come up from time to time during therapy. The famous therapy sessions have decreased from four times a week, to two, but they’ll be a constant in her life. That is the best medication for a person with a severe case of PTSD. “You need to give me a tour. Where is Rusty?”

  “Kennel, Bex.” I don’t say anything else, but hope she doesn’t make a big drama that her dog is inside a cage. PETA has nothing on Becca when it comes to Rusty’s rights. Training that pup is a hard task, because of the fights for his rights. In other words, she spoils him rotten. “He needs to travel safe, after takeoff we can get him out for a while.” She twists her mouth and doesn’t say a thing. “Thank you, for coming with me.”

  “Really, you’re thanking me?” Becca’s tone, big yawn and attitude hint at her mood. She’s grumpy—not only from nerves about meeting the Swansons, but also from lack of sleep. “You did notice the part where you carried me inside your new and bigger aircraft, right.”

  “You like to stall,” I dismiss her and secure her seatbelt once she has taken a seat. I notice her neck only has a few strands of hair falling down and knowing it gets her libido going, I begin to brush my lips around it. As she shivers, I nip the soft skin and don’t let it go until I know she’s quivering for me. “I promise, Bex, they’ll love you. Please, push away those nerves, Princess. Joseph might swing by and that’ll take most of the attention away.”

  “Are you mad at him?” I shake my head, remembering that in front of her I only call him Buddy and Joseph when he hits a nerve. “Why?”

  “Why? He’s always admiring the neighbor’s daughters.” So far he hasn’t convinced any of them to be the Austin girlfriend—smart girls. “Ophie lectures him about it all the time. It’s a guaranteed buffer, now take a breath and while you’re at it, a nap. You barely got a couple hours of sleep, I can see it right there.” With the knuckle of my index finger I trace the shadows under her eyes. I wonder if she had nightmares and I begin to worry. “Would you like to share the story with me?”

  “I just couldn’t sleep after you left… at two in the morning.” I grin. Good times, good times. “Took me an hour to pick up the kitchen and—“

  “One of those obsessive cleaning moments?” Too wired up to be able to go to bed, I tried to stay over and she said not ready yet… ridiculous. Of course she also added something around the lines of ‘once I let you stay, I’m not going to be able to kick you out—ever.’ Too late, too fast, too easy and goodbye. Knowing Becca, that wasn’t an hour of picking up, more like a couple and it included the grout in the bathroom. “I bet you got only a couple of hours of sleep. You’ll fall asleep in no time. Planes tend to have that effect on you.”

  As I say that, the flight attendant hands Becca her fleece blanket and like magic, as I help Becca wrap up with it, her eyes give in and she’s fast asleep. I wait for Scott to give me the green light and I take her to the bed where she can rest for the next three hours without hurting her neck.

  *

  Becca and I reach the ranch where Richard and Ophelia Swanson live, as a black pick-up truck parks in the driveway.

  “Who is that?” Becca asks, pointing at the truck, the tinted windows don’t allow us to see the driver. Right then, Buddy emerges from it. Unmistakable with broad shoulders, the five o’clock shadow he likes to sport any time of the day, his light brown hair barely an inch above the shoulder and barbwire tattoos on both arms. He has that broadened smirk stamped on his face, the one he gives Becca every time he sees her. No doubt he bought her something. “He came.” She claps excitedly and I understand the reason behind Tyler and Buddy’s fall out; Becca. They’re fighting for the spot of favorite brother. They don’t give a shit about me. A year ago Becca and Tyler weren’t even speaking to each other, ever since Aspen, Ty has been making his way into her life and Bud’s not liking it. “He’s going to take me away, since you want to feed me to the sharks.”

  “They’re good people, Princess.” She clamps her lips and jets out of the car, running toward Buddy and hugging him. Something is true; if she asks him to take her away he’ll do it without asking why. Not me, I know her insecurities are unreal. Taking my time, I open the door for Rusty and he follows behind. I spot Buddy handing Becca a bag. He has that devilish grin on his face that reminds me of when he was younger and we had a few minutes of peace. He was a kid for a few minutes and some days that reassured me that what we were doing was right—stealing, fighting and not giving up. Becca used to say I had one—boyish grin—and she adored it.

  “Your children are going to inherit it… breathtaking, yet alarming because it means you did something or are planning the next conquest.”

  Ophie opens the door, wearing a pair of denim overalls, a black turtleneck under it and a pair of riding boots. She gives us a welcome smile. Her dark brown eyes used to match her dark hair, which now has been overtaken by a golden brown mane. At sixty she keeps herself without one gray hair on that head, the opposite of her husband who I always remember having silver spots in that jet black hair of his. “Boys, it’s so nice to see you,” she says and walks toward us.

  “Joseph, you’re bearing presents?” Of course this woman knows him well, there’s no way he’d do something as nice. Unless it was for his little sister—then he’ll get her chocolate and what not—or he wanted something. He nods and hands her a similar bag to the one Becca holds. “Since when did you learn how to bake?”

  “Never,” Becca answers. “These are from a coffee shop in Boston. He only eats, and his theory behind it is that you can never enjoy what you cook or bake yourself.”

  “You must be Becca.” Ophie gets closer to her and extends her hand. “Ophelia Swanson, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “Hi,” Becca reciprocates and wide eyes focus on me. I bet internally she’s begging me to stop the torture. Still she keeps a relaxed face, not one muscle twitches. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

  “She’s okay with hugs,” Buddy says without specifying to whom he’s referring to, and with that, they hug each other. “Oph, meet my little sister. Dan’s other half and a saint, because only she can deal with him.”

  Becca’s fears dissipate fast, if possible, I think I see those pesky things leaving her body as Ophie makes her feel welcomed. That’s what she does best. The first time I met her, I believed things were possible and my life could change. I huff, because that’s also applicable to Becca. Sorrowful eyes and all, she grabbed my heart and injected it with enough love to believe I could reciprocate.

  It doesn’t take long before I feel like I’m part of some tour. The day begins with introductions, followed by horses, sheep, cows, pigs and rabbits. Rusty and Becca scramble from one side of the ranch, to the other like children exploring a new world. Ophie shows Becca her garden, then shows her the kitchen. They kick me out and I head to the garage, where Buddy is already with Rich. He’s restoring a 1962 Chevy Impala, a hobby of his now. He no longer has to repair cars for a living during the evenings, after coming home from the construction site. Richard never complained back then, he loves to do both things and he’s good at them.

  This is a nice way to spend my weekend. Buddy does this often, visits them. After I left for college, he stayed around for another two years and they grew closer. Back then my goal didn’t include family, I never realized they were such. Not until now. The only person I recognized as family had been Buddy, because we lived together for eleven years and fough
t together for about the same amount of time.

  “Becca is pretty,” Richard says suddenly, after about an hour of silence and only tweaking, cleaning and oiling parts. “Nice, and sweet. You two tying the knot soon?”

  “No.” I wipe my hands with the towel on top of the radiator. “Eventually, when the time is right. Although you’ll see us more often, I think Ophie likes her.”

  “I hope you do. Ophie and I will love to see you and the girl more often, Son. ” Then, he turns to Buddy and after slapping him on the shoulder, he lectures him, “And you, Joseph, Ophie will like you to stop harassing the neighbor’s daughters, boy. You’re old, it’s time to grow up, Son.”

  Buddy’s life wasn’t easy from the start. He lost his parents, then they sent him to a house where they… we both had a hard time. Before things escalated, we escaped living inside an abandoned building for about a year. Another two months inside the janitorial room of a hospital and finally, we arrived home with the Swansons. Then Buddy got sick, cancer, Leukemia and became the first case Raj worked on. He saved him. I miraculously had been a match for his bone marrow transplant. It was a painful procedure that was worth every minute. Adding to the sequences of Friday the thirteenth experiences, being attacked by a gang and almost killed had closed out our horrendous past. I dealt with it by controlling my every step, while Buddy became a carefree person. Rich should let him be, Buddy’s old enough to deal with his own life.

  Chapter 33

  A month is a long time for the media to begin speculating about pictures and relationships. Tyler visits me early—four in the morning—right after his people spot some articles and media junk about me and a new girl. They don’t have a name but have spotted the face.

  “What do you want to do?” Ty asks as I review the prints he brought me. “She’s going to freak out, we both know it.”

  “She was bound to become a buzz at some point, Ty.” There’s nothing offensive in any of the headings or comments. They have pictures of us in New York while we strolled around during the weekend, and a couple around L. A. from last week. We attended a fundraiser, and there were two things I didn’t take into account; media sharks and celebrities. You’re fair game when both are combined. Of course London came to light after pictures of Becca and I began to circulate. “I’ll go over to her place and talk to her before she wakes up to this and I’m not around.”

  Freak out is the word that most likely applies to her reaction.

  “I think they were holding onto the pictures until they could confirm.” Ty points at a picture where Becca and I are walking Rusty in Central Park. ‘Is she the one?’ reads the caption. Next to it there is another one of us kissing. “What do you want to do?”

  “Did you kill them?”

  “They’re wiped from cyberspace,” he explains, “but I can’t threaten anyone with a lawsuit when we both know this isn’t harmful and that you’re indeed dating. Last time I checked, she’s the one. We can spin it however you two want; give me a buzz when you decide what you want me to release to the press.”

  “Let me talk to her.” My thoughts and words make their way without any emotion. My mind is working on how to find the strength to keep calm and not freak her out. “I’ll call you in a couple of hours.”

  “Are you going now?” I nod and we both head to the door.

  *

  Rusty believes I’m his guard. Ever since Becca’s flu episode, I come daily in the morning and let him out. It became tradition. That and waking her up with morning sex, since we both agree not to do sleepovers or move into each other’s houses yet. Progress, our relationship is moving forward at a speed we both are comfortable with—more Becca than me.

  I head to the kitchen, serve Rusty’s food and slide the door closed when he comes back from the backyard. Thankfully today the scooping company is coming to clean the yard. Love the dog, but don’t think I can tidy up his playground on a daily, every other day or weekly basis.

  “Eat your breakfast, Rus.” I pat his head. “Mom and I have to have a serious talk. Wish me luck.”

  Skipping one step at a time, I make it all the way to the second story and head to her room. As I arrive, I slide the dim control to have some light to see my path, when I can see my surroundings I find her sprawled on her stomach, on her side of the bed. I find it amusing that neither one of us can sleep on the other’s side. I’ve tried, it’s impossible.

  “It’s dark,” she mumbles. “Why are you here so early?”

  Taking the hem of my sweatshirt, I take it off and do the same with my shorts before making my way inside the bed.

  “Morning, Bex.” I trail her nose and nibble her lips before kissing her and getting rid of her clothes. “Miss me?”

  “What is this?” Becca’s gaze travels from her naked body to mine and back.

  “Casual sex,” my light response gets a growling sound from her—I love those yappy, nonsense noises—which I choose to ignore. With one of my legs, I separate her knees and she rolls her eyes. “Part of your bucket list, one night stand, casual sex—“

  “You still count that as a one night stand?” we stare at each other, her eyes soften and surprisingly she moves her hips toward my body and with a push, I slide inside her. A moan escapes her and her cheeks heat up, those noises drive me crazy and so does the blush on her face. “So the first date will be after—“

  “Killing the moment, beautiful,” I interrupt her and she closes her eyes as she smiles because each time we go out on a date, she says she wants another first date. During one of those ‘first dates’ we pretended to be a couple of strangers and had a crazy rendezvous at a hotel in San Francisco. That’s what I call our one night stand. “Open those big browns, baby, you know I love to watch them while we make love.”

  Of course it isn’t casual sex, it’s Becca—my Becca. But I’m not about to second her suggestion to kill the mood and talk feelings and other subjects. Like the papers, and gossip sites having her beautiful face lingering around cyberspace.

  She responds to each stroke in and out. Today is a marathon, not a sprint. There’s no rush, only love and the desire to make it last for as long as I can. Even with the pace I take, her breath is heaving and this isn’t the beginning of an anxiety attack, I can feel her desire as her petite body shudders beneath me. For a moment I let her eyes go and concentrate on her upper body, nibbling her delicate neck and feasting on her beautiful breasts. Now not only Becca’s moans can be heard, but mine as well. We are close, and as she cries my name out loud, I sear her prolonged moans with a kiss and explode inside her, loving every moment of it.

  “I love you,” we both say at the same time.

  “What’s going on, baby?” She touches my cheek and waits for me to say something but I don’t. “Something’s bothering you, Dan.” I kiss her nose and go to the bathroom for a warm wet towel to clean her and have the chat. As I finish, she sits and positions herself into a story time pose. “I’m listening.”

  Becca listens to everything I tell her; Ty’s visit, the pictures which I show her, and what’s been done so far and the big question, what she wants to do.

  ”We never said it out loud, but we both knew this would happen sooner or later.” She takes a deep breath. “What do I want to do?”

  She looks at the pictures, then at me and then turns to the night stand where she has several pictures of us.

  “Well, on the outside it looks as if we both walk the same path; but if anyone takes a close look; we live in parallel universes.” I don’t like the way she starts to explain what she wants to do with the fucking pictures. I let her talk before letting my temper take charge. “I’m not part of that larger than life scene.” She points at the print outs. “Your scene scares me a little.” She releases the tight hold of her legs again to show me with her index finger and thumb how much the fear equals in Becca terms. “London wasn’t as bad as I thought, but it took me a while to wrap my head around it.

  “This is me.” She points at herself.
“Not a tall, skinny with artificial enhancements woman. Jeez, you billionaires have the same taste in coffee and women. Those ladies, look great as the wife of powerful men. They can be around social events on a weekly—or daily basis—without feeling like they’re selling their souls—or they don’t care. I do. You saw them, in London, at the auction. I can’t be like them.”

  Of course not, she’s different, real—human. Not a fake bimbo who is perched next to some rich asshole that doesn’t love the woman. I was like them and lived in that world once. Yes, some of the wives pay a high price. Their husbands have affairs from left to right. I’m not saying everyone that has money does that, but most do. During some meetings I have heard them talk about it. Their last lay, and how they pacified the wife with a diamond. It’s a world I need to participate in from time to time, not one I want to live in forever. I’ve never done that, in the past, I always gone back to my real world. Becca, the person that grounds me. I made the mistake throughout the years to make her think that that outside world mattered more than her. Which was wrong. She’s my world.

  “Then there are days like yesterday. With weird behaviors that scare me because I have no idea why my mood is spiking off the charts.” She takes a deep breath and suddenly gets off the bed, picks up my sweatshirt and puts it on, then heads out of the room. I follow. “I was fine after. I’m okay today. So far there’s been only one nightmare in the past few weeks—since I arrived in San Jose and after the incident with the Patricks.” I have a feeling that this is that downfall I’ve been waiting for. “That’s nothing compared to my usual three to four a night. I’ll say there’s a huge improvement.” Huge? Try awesome I want to interrupt but abstain and listen. “You won’t have to deal with broken Becca, I promise. But… you need—”

  “Becca—” I interrupt her and she does the same.