by RJ Heaton
My own hand finds its way free from our tangled up limbs to the nape of his neck where my fingers weave through his thick silky strands. His arms wrap around me in a possessive bone crushing hug. It feels like home. My body settles against him and my mind relaxes.
We never make it back out to my divorce party.
Fifteen
Guilt has me telling Heather to pull up to the curb and park. I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but maybe I’m a glutton for punishment. I glance up at the house where I intend to push my foot in the door instead of just letting it close. I sigh heavily feeling broken and defeated. He doesn’t deserve to be dragged through my hell.
“Want me to go with you?” I shake my head no at Heather. This is a solo mission.
“I could use some help getting my walker out?” I groan, saying the dreaded word ‘help’. I am so tired of needing assistance when all I desire is to do all of this alone.
It takes me a minute to walk the concrete path to his doorway, but it’s not my feet dragging like sand bags weighing me down—it’s my heart. Pieces of it are shattering with each step closer and leaving a trail littered of splintering chunks behind me. He had been the one from the start of this mess to start piecing me back together. He lit that spark fusing one piece at a time, and now all of those pieces are falling from their place and hitting the ground. I’m scared I will never be whole again.
Perspiration seeps from my pores as if my soul cries in mourning while I knock on the door. I hear footfalls behind the door causing my breath to hitch. I can do this. I can do this. The knob twists and the clicking of the lock disengaging amplifies through my ears. In slow motion the door opens wide and Ethan stands shirtless in the now opened doorway before me. In those few seconds I’m rendered speechless as my eyes drift down over his golden skin stretched taut over his perfect sculpted creation.
“Hey,” he says breaking my trance.
“Hi,” I return in reply.
“Look,” he begins and then pauses giving me a sullen gaze. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“Me too.”
“I didn’t think you would come by.” He glances behind me and I’m sure he notices Heather’s sedan sitting in front of his house. Ethan shifts from one foot to another when I notice his bare feet. He looks confused and lost, and I completely know the feeling. After what happened yesterday I’m surprised that I’m standing on his doorstep.
“Who is it E?” A familiar feminine voice yells from somewhere behind him. His body shifts to look over his shoulder and then he turns to look back at me. He lets out and audible huff and then runs his hands through his hair showing me exactly all of his pent up frustrations.
“It’s Nikki, Simone.”
Clank
Clank
More pieces of my heart break off and shatter as they hit the ground. Of all the people in the world, I am shocked that Ethan is shouting back at Simone. My eyes must show the hurt and betrayal because Ethan steps over the threshold and grabs me into a bone crushing hug.
“Nikki, damn it. I don’t want to hurt you.” I want to let my body sag and let the craving to sob into his shoulder to take over, but I push it away. I have to save it for later. It’s clear Ethan and I have a spark between us, but to be honest it is more like a pilot light compared to the burning inferno that burns when I’m near Shad. I swallow the lump of sorrow clogging my vocals from speaking.
“Ethan it’s okay.” I whisper in his ear. Not able to make my words come out any louder. “I want you to be happy, and it’s not me that’s supposed to fill your heart.” I let out a breath trying to steady the cracking in my voice as the tears sting the back of my throat. “I’ll always be grateful that you are the one that put me back together. Someday I hope that I will be able to repay you.”
“Nik,” I feel his fingertips dig tighter into my back as he pulls me tighter to his chest. “I don’t want to let you go.”
I let out a light laugh. A nervous habit when in fact I’m trying to calm my raging emotions. “That’s good since you are my partner and you’re stuck with me.” He releases his hold on me and looks down at me.
“You still want to work with me after this?” He gestures back toward his house, confirming my suspicions. His eyebrows pull together in a puzzled bewilderment. I need to be strong for us both. This is better for the both of us.
“Of course I do. Are you still up for the job?”
His beautiful smile creeps up his lips causing his lone dimple to pucker just for me. “Partners,” he agrees. He leans down and smothers me in another hug. “You’re still etched into my bones.” He whispers into my ear.
“And you in mine too.” I nod over his shoulder, “you should get back to …”
“It’s not quite like that.” He interrupts.
“Good. I think you can do much better than that.” I say conspiratorially.
“I know. You showed me that.” He winks, “But I don’t think I can do any better than you.” His smile falters and I know he is hurting too. He kisses my cheek softly and my heart warms. For whatever reason, Ethan and I were meant to cross paths and help each other even if it’s not to be with one another.
“Alright partner, I will see you Monday. We have a lot of planning to get this crazy endeavor rolling.”
“Sounds good, Nik. I’ll see you Monday.” He gives me a final hug goodbye and I take the first step to a new life. Nothing is holding me back.
Sixteen
After all this time of having the weight of the world pushing its heavy load on my shoulders, it feels odd having the weight lifted. I’m afraid I may just float away—as light as a balloon.
I’m not complaining, after all, I am officially moving on. With the last couple of weeks without any major hiccups, it feels astonishing to live and tell the tale let alone reflect. The accident took an amazing life, but out of the ashes has risen a new me. My leg and arm have not fully recovered, but I’m optimistic that in time they will be back to normal. Sean is in jail and now my ex-husband, my family has been shook hard, but it too is mending and a strength that was never there before is binding us together like reinforced cement. Mediation has started and Jim is optimistic that we will be settling in the next couple of months, and my partner … Ethan is amazing. Over the last couple of weeks we have moved past our interesting relationship or that we even had a so-called relationship and turned into business partners. We have secured staff, one grant has been approved and it will be enough to get MOTC off the ground. It makes me so happy that we can work together. And Ethan he wasn’t a poor choice. He’s an amazing human being. If either of us had met at a different time or born closer in dates than we could’ve built a beautiful life together … and Shad … although he may seem rough around the edges, he fits up against me like we were chiseled specifically for each other. I can’t feel guilty about that.
Things are going to work out.
If, I can get my butt out of bed. A wave of nausea hits right as my phone rings. I debate on not answering it, but I recognize the tune I programmed specifically for Shad. “Hey,” I say. Hearing his deep masculine voice on the other end eases my upset stomach momentarily.
“You should stay far and clear from me. I think I have the flu or some nasty stomach bug.” I say into the phone.
“Nonsense. I’m not scared of some little stomach bug.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see the gesture through the phone line. Of course he thinks he’s beyond getting sick. The man deems himself indestructible.
“Suit yourself, but I’m not coming over to empty your puke buckets when it happens. I could barely do that for my own children.” I retort. “I would have to turn my head while dumping the contents into the toilet, and needless to say it wasn’t done with grace. Nope there was a whole lot of gagging and extreme effort to try not to lose my own lunch.”
Shad laughs quietly, “Don’t worry Sugar I’ll be okay, besides it sounds like maybe you need me to be Mr. Nurse. I pride myself in my abilities t
o care for others, and I promise I will definitely take care of you.”
Another wave of nausea strikes and I’m grabbing for my belly. If I laugh now, knowing full and well the meaning behind Shad’s ‘he’ll take care of me,’ I will vomit all over my bed. I repress it fighting back the urge to lose whatever may be left of my stomach contents.
Today of all days this can’t be happening. I have an appointment to take a second look at the building that might just be perfect for the clinic. Ethan and I have been working double time to get it open, and I don’t need to blow this chance if the building owner sees me a lovely shade of putrid green. The thought of having to run to the bathroom while we are touring the space is—not good—not good at all.
If I know Shad at all he will be here in five minutes top. The thought of him rushing over and taking care of me, curves my lips into a cheesy grin. Sean took care of me monetarily, but when it came to emotional or physical …. He wasn’t in the kitchen with an apron on heating me up chicken soup. It was catastrophic in our household if I was down for a day.
Getting myself up out of bed is not an option. I move slightly and my stomach quivers.
One, two, three … calming breaths hoping it will pass long enough for me to get to the bathroom and shower. It’s not like I’m asking all that much. Baby steps are just fine with me. My motto lately baby steps …
One little step forward
Step
Then another … eventually if I keep inching forward I have to get somewhere. Both feet planted on the floor, I grab my new apparatus and pull it toward me. Joe has threatened to put a seat on my lovely new walker to add extra humility for my sake. God help me I even tell him that it would be nice. It’s exhausting trying to walk around after a few feet. I am happy to not be totally dependable on my wheel chair any longer though. This is a major stepping stone for me. Nikki Cooper award of the month, she moved onto a walker … Woohoo!
A feeling of independence has returned. No longer do I have to ask for assistance with everything I do—just a few things now. It’s still hard opening a door on my own unless they have a button on the wall to automatically open it. Fumbling around with a walker and a door must be a pathetic spectacle to see. If I am ever free from using some darn contraption to help me walk, I vow to help everyone I see with a walker or a wheelchair. After living through it it’s very clear we take our normal everyday life for granted.
The shower jumps to life spraying down icy cold pelts as I adjust the knob to reach the perfect temperature. For the moment the nausea is quiescent. Maybe it was just something I ate. I can be hopeful. Today means so much and I need to be on my top game. Negotiation is of upmost importance. This building needs to be the right price for me to pay this off and keep it afloat.
I have never actually owned my own business, but from the research I have done the first five years is crucial. Your decisions can either make-or-break you. The numbers I have pencil pushed together demand I’m not paying too much overhead. At least not until the clients start rolling in, and like every new business that can take a while. It will take time to build our reputation. I plan on striving and expecting nothing but the best … even with my location.
Dressed for business with a black pantsuit and a bright red power blouse to figuratively show I’m in control, I look myself over. It would be a lot more convincing without the walker, but this is what I have to work with. I turn and push said walker down the hall to the kitchen. Smells of bacon, eggs and coffee swirl through the air; usually the scent is like heaven to my nostrils, but after my bout of nausea this morning the mixture is repulsive. Instantly, I’m turning my walker to the door on my right and bolt as fast as my stubborn leg will allow me to the porcelain toilet. So much for thinking I was getting better. Apparently, I couldn’t have that good of luck. I hover over the toilet when foot steps alert me to a visitor in the bathroom.
I’m scared to even lift my head up, but I see the tip of black cowboy boots near the basin and feel my hair gently lift from my neck. His fingers graze over my hot skin making sure to scoop up the strays that riotously cling to my sweat dampened cheeks. I groan in displeasure of him seeing me like this. “I told you to stay away!” I grumble and let my head fall back on my arm that is holding me up from splashing into the toilet.
“I told you I wasn’t scared, and besides this isn’t the first time I held your hair up for you as you hurled all over.” My face already flush from the violent bursts of heaving, I can blush no more than I am, recalling the night I had one too many drinks and Shad had graciously taken me out of my clothes and hovered over me while I was sick. Thankfully, I still have a very hazy memory of that, however, I had woken with him on my floor and although it was awkward it was rather rewarding.
“Ramp, you don’t have to do this.”
“I know. I want to.” I try to look up at him, but from this angle it’s a struggle. “Are you okay for a second?” He asks with concern edged deep in his tone.
“I think so.”
With the gentlest hands I have ever felt he lays my hair down against my back, trying to keep it contained to one area and I feel the heat from his body disappear. I’m so strained I keep my head against my forearm. I hear the cupboard door knock against the wood as it closes and then the water faucet squeaks lightly as he turns the water on. Just as quickly as he moved away he is back swiping up my hair and compressing a cool cloth against my bare skin on my neck. It feels wonderful to have the coolness against the heat of my body. After a few moments of resting the rag against me, he leaves me again and cools the cloth back down, but this time he presses it gently to my forehead. The act is so simple, but it has my heart soaring. This man truly does care.
“Is that helping?” He asks into my ear.
“Mm hmm,” is all I’m able to mumble out. A soft laugh escapes his lips.
“Maybe, we should get you back in bed where you will be a little more comfortable, Sugar lips.”
It’s not that dreaded nickname he has so dubbed as mine that brings me back to the now. No, it’s the fact that I can absolutely, one-hundred percent can not crawl back into bed. “I have a meeting! I can’t miss it.” Panic rises in my throat as I realize I have no idea how much time has passed by while I’ve been clinging to the toilet.
“Nik, you can’t be serious. You can’t go into a meeting like this. If you … let’s just say you can be blowing more than just one thing here.” I cringe at his awful analogy.
“I’m not going to blow chunks on anyone or blow this deal.” I push myself up onto my knees and grab my walker to support my weight to stand. I’m dizzy when I get up, but I let it pass and stomp over to the sink to splash cold water on my face and dispel the aftermath of flavor overload in my mouth.
Shad’s tight jaw twitches with aggravation, but he doesn’t understand how much this place means to me. I need it just as much as I know others need it. A clinic to help those who have been put into scenarios like mine could mean a whole new life for them. I will get it open. A silly stomach bug is not going to get me down. The old me would have given in and crawled straight into bed, but this Nikki … she’s finally going to step up and fight for something she wants.
“Who’s taking you?” His tone is sharp and boldly says he does not like the idea of me going out in this condition. Too bad.
“Ethan should be here in a minute.” I knew I said the wrong thing the second the words were out. His body freezes in a deadly stance. “Ramp,” I step closer to make physical contact with him. He flinches when I lay my hand gently on his forearm. I sigh heavy, “I thought we were over this. We’ve discussed this. Ethan is my partner. These decisions have to be made between the two of us for the business to succeed.” I don’t know what else to say, his body is rigid and if there was something to punch in front of him, I’m sure he would utilize it about now. But in my heart I know he would never hurt me like that.
“It doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he finally deadpans with his lips so tight I’
m impressed that he actually made words and wasn’t hissing.
Impeccably, Ethan’s timing is off. The doorbell rings and Shad’s eyes pull together in a full blown scowl. Before I can say anything more, he turns and leaves the bathroom.
Seventeen
Getting the building should have me flying on high, but this stomach bug has me held up in bed for the second day in a row.
“Knock, knock.” I look up just as my best friend comes trudging through the door with her right arm weighted down with grocery bags. “I brought the sick girl some get well necessities.” I smile warmly at Carrie.
“What kind of necessities we talkin’?”
“Oh, you know … like chic flicks, chicken soup, saltine crackers, Seven-up that kind of stuff.”
“Sounds great if I can keep it all down.”
“Can’t keep nothing down huh?”
“Not so far. I’ve been trying to sip on liquids, but anything touches the walls of my stomach and I’m trying to purge the contents immediately.”
“Crappy. Maybe its morning sickness.” She laughs at her joke.
“Not funny!” I retort, but as she says it the very thought flashes through my mind. I had felt the exact same way when I was pregnant with my other three children. The look on my face has Carrie stopping dead in her tracks.
“Uh huh. No way. Your eyes are as big as saucers right now. Could you be?”
“I … I,” I stare up at my friend but I’m a million miles away. There is no way, but has it been five years since I got my IUD. The one I had implanted was to last for five years. Did I let the time lapse?