Intoxicated

by Jeana E. Mann

  “You can still be mad at me. I just didn’t want you to go up there alone unless you wanted to. I’m still here for you.” He paused and ran a finger along the curve of her jaw, sending a flood of desire through her veins. “Let me be here for you.”

  It was just like the arrogant son-of-a-bitch to do something so sweet that it became impossible to hate him. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge him. Like he had said, everything was black and white to her, but if the past few months had taught her anything, it was that a million shades of gray existed in between.

  ***

  Jack sat in the lobby and waited while Ally went in to see her mother. He expected to be bored out of his wits, but there seemed to be some kind of altercation happening in the men’s room that distracted him from boredom. The muffled shouting and banging of a half dozen people inside the restroom made him shift in his seat and cock a wary eye in the direction of the nurses’ station. The matronly woman seemed oblivious to the noise and shot him a reassuring smile before returning her attention to the paperwork on her desk.

  After about ten minutes, a doctor dressed in green scrubs emerged from the restroom and slumped into a chair next to Jack. He wiped a weary hand across his brow and removed the stethoscope from around his neck.

  “Whew! I think everything’s under control in there now.” He grinned at Jack. He was an attractive man in his mid-thirties with sandy brown hair and warm brown eyes. “You got any cigarettes? I’m dying for a smoke.”

  “Nope,” Jack said. “I quit a few weeks ago, but I still get the craving now and then.”

  “Me, too. Sometimes I get the itch so bad I can’t think of anything else. Of course, it helps to be an addictions specialist. Have you tried anything to help with that craving? Chantix and Zyban are good. I could write you a prescription if you like.” The doctor dug into his pocket and pulled out a prescription pad, but before he could put pen to paper the nurse from the station interrupted.

  “Mr. Lorry, please leave this nice man alone. I see you’ve stolen Dr. Armantrout’s prescription pad and stethoscope again.” She held out a roughened red hand and Mr. Lorry sighed deeply before relinquishing the goods. “Now back to your room.”

  “Sorry,” Mr. Lorry said to Jack with a sheepish grin. “It was good to talk to you. Maybe we can visit longer next time.”

  “I’m very sorry, sir,” the nurse said to Jack. “He’s harmless, but lonely. He doesn’t get a lot of visitors.”

  “Uh, no problem,” Jack said, straightening in his chair and biting back a smile.

  Ally followed Dr. Armantrout down the beige corridor to her mother’s room. His rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor as they walked, distracting her from her thoughts. The nauseating odor of antiseptic reminded her of a hospital, but the doors to the rooms were open and the patients flowed back and forth between them like dorm room inhabitants. They stopped to stare at her with unbridled interest as if they hadn’t seen an outside person in a very long time.

  “It’s alright. You don’t have to be nervous,” Dr. Armantrout said, noting her unease. “They’re not dangerous. They’re just normal everyday people who have a little more difficulty than most coping with life. Like your mother, most of these people have admitted themselves into treatment.”

  “My mother admitted herself?” This tidbit of information caught Ally by surprise.

  “Yes. She recognized the signs of a relapse and admitted herself right away. I have to say that I’m very impressed with her desire to get treatment. Most patients are too far removed from reality to recognize what’s in their own best interest.” He paused in front of the last door at the end of the hallway and smiled kindly at her. “I’m so glad you’re here. She has tremendous guilt over leaving you and this will really help in her recovery. Are you ready to go in?”

  “I’m not sure how to act.” Ally’s knees began to shake again and her palms to sweat. “I don’t really know her.”

  “Just be yourself. Act as you would when you meet any other person.” He smiled again, reassuring and sympathetic. “It will be fine. I’ll be right here outside the door if either of you need me.”

  Her mother was seated in a chair facing the window, dressed in a pink sweat suit and wearing felt slippers. Ally caught a glimpse of a long slender neck beneath the light brown hair swept into a bun at the nape and a short straight nose similar to her own. Her mother didn’t turn from the window, but sat starring outside at the drizzle on the windows.

  “Why are you here, Ally?” she asked after a long moment. She turned then and Ally was stricken with an unsettling sense of recognition as she stared into a face so like her own that it took her breath away.

  “I heard you were here. I wanted to see you…to see if you’re okay.” Ally’s voice came out uneven and shaky. To keep her hands from trembling, she pressed her palms to her thighs as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Of course I’m not okay. I’m in a loony bin for Christ’s sake,” her mother snapped.

  “Maybe this was a bad idea.” Ally half-rose to her feet.

  Her mother frowned, but her features softened, and she motioned for Ally to sit again. “No. Please stay.” She bit her lip and cocked her head as her gaze swept over her daughter from head to toe. “You look like me. I didn’t expect that. How old are you now? Twenty?”

  “I’m twenty-five,” Ally said and lifted her chin. “I can’t believe you don’t know how old I am.”

  Her mother’s face lowered, looking abashed. “I lose track of time,” she whispered. “Sometimes a day…sometimes a week…years even. I’m not even sure how old I am today.”

  “It’s okay.” Ally felt a rush of sympathy and pity for this stranger. “It doesn’t really matter, I guess.”

  “I suppose not.” Her mother turned to face the window again, crossing her arms around her chest, hugging herself. “So…why are you here, Ally?”

  Ally took a deep breath and spoke the words she’d been holding back for so long. “I want to know why…why you left me.”

  When the visit was over, Ally found Jack sitting in the same chair of the lobby, wedged between two very large middle-aged women dressed in matching purple bathrobes. They were both babbling to him and waving their hands in animated conversation. The look of sheer panic on his face as she approached made her forget the trauma of her mother’s confessions and laugh out loud.

  “Do you need a minute to say goodbye to your friends or are you ready to go?” she asked.

  “Nope, I’m good.” He jumped to his feet, popping out from between the women like a champagne cork. “Nice to meet you, ladies,” he said to the Barney twins with an elegant bow. He grabbed Ally’s elbow and started toward the exit with such long strides that she had to trot to keep up with him. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

  Laughter burst from her lips with such force that it surprised them both. It felt good to laugh. He scowled at her then burst into his own loud guffaw. They climbed into his truck and continued to laugh so hard that tears ran down their cheeks.

  “You should’ve seen the look on your face,” Ally said, gasping for air like a landed fish. “I wish I’d had a camera.”

  “That whole experience freaked me the fuck out,” he said with a shudder. He scrubbed his hands over his face, wiping away the tears, and struggled to regain some sense of sobriety. “I hope we never have to come back here again.”

  “We won’t,” Ally said and bit her lip. He caught the change in her tone immediately.

  “What happened?”

  She sighed and looked down into her lap, picking at her fingernails. “Well, I asked her why she left and she said because she never had a reason to stay. That’s it. That’s all the explanation I got.”

  “Seriously? That’s not an answer.” Rage welled up inside him on Ally’s behalf. If only her mother knew what a good, sweet person her daughter had become, she would think differently.

  “No, it’s not, but it’s all I got.” Ally sighed agai
n. She looked up at him and into him with an intensity that made his toes curl inside his cowboy boots. “And it’s probably all I’ll ever get.”

  “And you’re good with that?”

  “I don’t have a choice, do I? Before I got here, I thought her answer would change my life forever, that it would unlock the secret of my existence, and all my problems would be solved. But then I realized that no matter what she said, nothing was going to change. My past is still my past and it can’t be undone. It’s mine and I might as well own it. It’s what makes me who I am.” She smiled at him, a tiny smile that tugged at his heart, and shrugged.

  “How did you get so freaking smart?” he asked in an awed whisper.

  If he hadn’t known before, he knew then. He was in love with her.

  When he pulled into her driveway, they sat in the truck for a minute before she spoke. This was the hard part. She was going to get out of the truck, go into the house, and they would go back to their separate lives without each other. The idea sent him into a panic.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” she said a bit shyly. “I don’t think I could’ve handled it by myself.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said and struggled to swallow the lump in his throat. “I meant what I said before. I’m here for you. Whatever. Whenever. You only have to ask.”

  With a suddenness that took his breath away, she launched across the truck and into his arms. He held her tight against him, savoring the rise and fall of her chest against his as she breathed, stroking the tumble of curls down her back, and murmured words of nonsense into her neck like some love-crazed fool. If only he could make this moment last forever, his life would be complete.

  “I hate you,” she said, words muffled against his shoulder. “You selfish bastard.”

  “I know,” he replied, feeling the lump in his throat again. “I hate you, too.”

  After a minute, she disentangled herself from his grip and sat back on the seat. The windows had begun to fog while the rain beat a pleasant tattoo on the truck’s roof. The cab felt like a warm and safe cocoon from the outside world. He knew that once she opened that door, everything would change.

  “I’d ask you inside, but…” Her voice drifted off and she looked away.

  “I know.” He let her go and slid back behind the steering wheel. “If I go inside, I’m going to have to make love to you and I don’t want to take advantage of you right now. You’ve been through a lot today and I know that deep down, you’re still mad at me.”

  “Right.” She breathed a deep sigh – of relief or sadness – he couldn’t tell which. Her hand drifted to the door handle and his heart skipped a beat. “Well…thanks again. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said and gave her a wink.

  She opened the door. Cool, damp air swept into the cab and swirled around him. The door slammed shut behind her and he was left alone…again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A week went by and then two without any word from Ally. It took every ounce of self-control Jack possessed to keep from stalking her like a desperate loser. He went through the days like a sleepwalker, going through the motions of life without really seeing or hearing anyone. It would have been easy to fall into his old self-destructive habits, drinking and sleeping with random women to chase away the pain, but something inside him had changed. He wanted more. He needed more. Nothing would quench his pain but Ally.

  To keep himself busy, he cleaned out the loft apartment on the fourth floor of the Jameson’s building and moved in. David had lived there years ago but had eventually moved on to greener pastures and turned the apartment into storage. It was an interesting space filled with exposed brick and piping, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city, and weathered hardwood floors. With a few minor renovations and a liberal application of elbow grease, the place became habitable. As he worked, he couldn’t help but wonder what Ally would think of his efforts. Would she like curtains or blinds on the windows? Where would she place the sofa? Where would she put the baby’s crib?

  Strange that he always pictured the baby in Ally’s arms and not Chelsea’s. Chelsea didn’t have a maternal bone in her body. Ally claimed that she didn’t like or want children, but he’d felt the softness in her touch and knew otherwise.

  A rap at the front door tore him from the work of replacing a thermostat, a knocking so soft that he thought he had imagined it at first. Another knock, louder and more insistent, made him put down his screwdriver and wipe his dirty hands on his jeans. It was probably Randy; he’d offered to help change out light fixtures in all the rooms, having some electrical wiring experience from a brief stint as a construction worker, and being a victim of his own brand of heartache since Tasha had quit. Jack knew that Randy had had feelings for the girl, even though he’d tried to play the tough guy.

  When Jack pulled open the door, he found Ally standing in the hallway with a furrow between her brows and her lower lip tucked tight between her teeth. The unexpected sight of her nearly tore the breath from his lungs. He blinked twice to make sure he hadn’t imagined her, but she was still there.

  “Hey,” she said, in a soft voice. The furrow between her brows lessened. A shy smile curved her lips and the green gaze warmed his skin like a ray of sunshine.

  “Hey yourself,” he replied and stood there like an idiot with his palms sweating and his heart thudding against his chest.

  “Can I come in for a minute?” She waited for him to take a step back then followed him into the apartment. “I ran into Randy at the convenience store and he said I could find you up here.” She stopped just inside the door and swept a curious gaze over the stacks of boxes and hodgepodge of furniture. “Wow. This is going to look great.”

  Her praise felt good, even better than he’d imagined. “Thanks. I’ve been working on it pretty much nonstop for the last few weeks. It still needs a lot of work.”

  “I’m impressed, Jack. It’ll be a good place for the baby.” As her gaze circled around the apartment, it clouded and became impersonal again, like the eyes of a stranger. He hated that look. It was his fault that it was there; he’d stolen something precious from her – from the both of them. Her trust.

  “Thanks,” he said again for lack of anything better. “Have a seat.” He whipped the sheet off of the sofa and nodded toward it in invitation. “You want something to drink? All I’ve got is water but I can have someone bring up a beer or something from the pub.”

  “No, thanks. I’m good.” She didn’t sit down but stood in the middle of the room, shifting from one foot to the other with her hands jammed into the pockets of her suede jacket. She looked damn good in faded jeans, knee-high brown boots and a white sweater. Clean and wholesome, like a picture out of a Towne and Country magazine. “I just came by to say hi and see how you’re doing. I hate the way we left things…I hate it. I didn’t know I’d miss you so much.”

  “I know,” he said softly. It was difficult to choke the words past the lump in his throat. “I miss you, too, Ally.”

  Suddenly he was hit with the realization that at any minute, she would leave again and he would have to endure the heart-rending pain of separation once more. Fear sliced through him and brought a cold sweat to his brow. Maybe this was the last time he would ever see her.

  It took every ounce of self-control Ally possessed to keep from launching into Jack’s arms. She had promised herself that she would be calm and impersonal, that she only wanted to say goodbye before she left for Philadelphia. All of those intentions went out the window when Jack opened the door wearing a sweat-stained gray t-shirt that molded over his tight six-pack and her gaze met his dark brown eyes. He looked older and tired, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and couldn’t shake it. She wanted to smooth back his hair and kiss away the deep lines on his forehead.

  “You cut your hair,” she said to break the awkward silence.

  “I did. What do you think?” He ran his fingers through the short w
avy locks and across his clean-shaven cheeks. “I needed an image upgrade.”

  “I liked it before but I like this too.” His dark shoulder-length hair had been one of her favorite things about him, but this new tousled short style showed the angles and planes of his handsome face, accentuated the curve of his full lips. “It’s sexy.”

  “Not exactly the image I was going for, but I’ll take it,” he said with the lazy smile that was more like the old Jack. The sight of that familiar grin caused her heart to drum against the walls of her chest and she felt suddenly dizzy. “Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale.”

  “I’m good. Just a little tired, I guess.” She waved a hand to keep him away. If he got too close, she might give into temptation and seek refuge in his lips.

  “Hey, I’m glad you stopped by. I’ve got something for you.” He rummaged through a pile of papers on the kitchen table and came up with a rumpled piece of paper covered with Jack’s loose, slanted scrawl.

  “What’s this?” She took the paper and squinted at it.

  “It’s your brother’s address and phone number,” Jack said. “I had a friend of a friend who knew someone that heard of your brother. Perks of being a bartender.” The dimples around his mouth winked as he grinned. “I don’t know if you want to contact him, but at least you know where he is.”

  She sank onto the sofa before her knees could give way and rested her head in her hands. He had gone to a lot of trouble for her. The gesture brought a sting of tears to her eyes. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  He shrugged. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can get you a glass of water.”

  “I’m not thirsty,” she snapped and was immediately ashamed of her tone.

  “Sorry. Bartender,” he replied in explanation. “It’s in my blood.”