Duly Noted

Home > Other > Duly Noted > Page 6
Duly Noted Page 6

by H. M. Shander


  Walking back in to the dining area after downing a full glass, she worried about her father. He looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, and his skin more sallow than normal. “I suppose.” Aurora’s eyes bugged, and she slapped herself in the forehead. “Oh shit, I forgot to pick up some groceries on the way home, and I totally meant too.”

  He stood and headed for the spare room, a sparsely decorated room since its abandonment a few weeks ago when its former tenants, Carmen’s friends, moved out. “Let’s go out for dinner, then. You can show me what’s good around here.”

  “Well, there’s not much in terms of sit down places, but there’s the standard fast food.”

  “Ugg, no thanks.”

  She placed her hand on her hip, and the other on her back, giving it a quick rub. “Well, how about?” Brewster’s? Ha, no. “Let’s go to Donny’s.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Pizza and burgers, at least according to the flyers. I’ve never been there, but it’s close by.”

  “Great, let’s go.” Her daddy grabbed his keys off the table.

  “We can walk.”

  “Aurora, this is unhealthy.”

  “What do you mean? Walking is great exercise.” She rolled her eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. Again.

  “You need to get over this irrational fear for cars.”

  She clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes. “Irrational? I don’t think it’s irrational to be afraid of what killed people I loved. They are death mobiles, and I’ll have no part of that.” Her father’s face paled.

  “Aurora–”

  “Have you seen motor vehicle accident statistics? They’re outrageous, Daddy. And we’re part of that stat.” She stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest.

  He sighed and ran his fingers through his thinning salt and pepper hair. “You need to get over this.”

  “I won’t, and it’ll never happen.”

  “This place you mentioned has to be less than a five minute drive. Try.”

  She pressed her lips together into a tight line. “It’ll never happen. Besides, you didn’t bring any special pills with you, did you?” The only way she’d been able to get into a vehicle since the accident was to be so drugged she didn’t remember. Her daddy had a special pill that caused her to block the trip out of her mind, like selective amnesia.

  “You can’t keep taking those pills to hide from it.”

  “Yeah, and I wouldn’t have survived the trip from the dorm to here without them.” The magic pills had come in handy for that trip.

  “Speaking of pills, how’s your supply doing?”

  How was she supposed to answer that? She used them, but only when she needed them. “I guess it’s good?”

  “Do you take them every day?”

  “Not every day.” It wasn’t a lie, really, it’s only been lately that something has necessitated their use. “I’ve only taken them when my back or hips ache, or something causes me massive anxiety.”

  “How often is that?”

  “Not as often as I think you’re trying to lead me to admit.” She picked at her cuticles, and tore off a strip of hangnail.

  He shook his head and placed a firm, yet fatherly hand on her shoulder. “Watch it, okay? So you don’t become addicted to them.”

  Frozen in her spot, her mouth hung open. “I’m not–” Her hands covered her mouth. She couldn’t even say the word, mostly because it wasn’t true. “I write down each time I use them, and why.” She paused and thought a moment. Except I haven’t, really. The last few days I’ve not recorded. I need to do that, account for each pill used, otherwise it looks bad. Like I’m addicted or something.

  As if he could read her mind, he asked, “When’s your next appointment?”

  “End of the month.” Aurora had regular visits to an orthopedic doctor on campus, to check that her pelvis, her left hip joint and both legs functioned to the best of their ability. She still limped but there wasn’t much they could do about that anymore. Her hips had healed slightly out of alignment, but with intense physical therapy, he told her, there could be hope. If she went. Which she didn’t.

  In the new apartment, there wasn’t a physical therapist nearby, and no hope of getting back to campus. And without regular visits to a PT, her doctor was a hard man to convince that she needed more pain pills, because that was the whole point of the physical therapy visits – reducing her pain. It was a vicious cycle.

  Frustrated with her doctor’s lack of house calls, she’d found a new doctor nearby. This one had no issues treating her chronic pain with pills, and good ones too. Without any pressure to see a physical therapist or even discuss pain strategies. She liked him. An easy fix. Five minutes in and she’d get a couple months’ supply of happy little pills. So appeasing him, and to prove to herself she wasn’t an addict, she kept the diary and tried to remember to keep it updated.

  Her daddy wrapped his arms around her. “That’s my princess. Now, let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”

  Chapter Ten

  Aurora left a note with her work schedule taped to the spare bedroom door the next morning, not daring to wake her father. Slipping out the door, she walked to work, enjoying the fresh air.

  Despite the weather and all-around good morning, she woke to a misery the sunshine couldn’t melt away. Her father always had that effect on her. She missed the pleasantness of her momma and Carmen. It had almost been two years since the accident. Two years without feeling a part of something.

  She pushed back the impending tears. Not today. As she approached the library, she remembered she forgot to Google the name she’d written. Oh well, she’d do it after work. Her daddy was meeting an old friend for supper, so she’d have time without pretending to be interesting. Resting on the nearby bench to catch her breath, a van of construction guys jumped out and headed around the back of the library. A red car pulled up beside, and caught her attention.

  One man in specific stopped, and nodded at her as he approached.

  “Hi, Nate.”

  “Good morning.”

  Her skin tingled as it warmed, and her breath quickened in response. “Well, good to know you’re still talking to me.”

  “Yeah, we never said we were exclusive.” He stepped closer.

  “What? We’re not even–”

  His fingers made a gun, and he clicked it at her. “Gotcha.”

  A smile broke across her face. “Oh, ha-ha.”

  He approached her and sat beside her on the bench. “What are you up to after work?”

  She cocked her head. “You are a persistent one, aren’t you?”

  “Duly noted.” He smiled. “So?”

  “Well, not much I guess.”

  “Not much you guess? There’s enthusiasm for you.” He rubbed his legs. “Want to grab a coffee? There’s a GrabbaJoes over there.” He pointed towards her apartment.

  She was familiar with it as she passed by it to and from work. “Sure,” she said, seeing the way his smile crinkled a little, and his brown eyes sparkled with joy. “It’s a date.”

  “A bona fide date?”

  “Yes, and I’ll even stay this time.” Aurora laughed.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I should escort you so you don’t bolt.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks, and she whispered, “Perhaps.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you here. Right here.”

  As he walked away, she took in his fine form, even in the overalls. None of the other guys suited those, but Nate… wow. They showcased a slim silhouette. For the briefest moment, she wondered what he wore under them. Underwear? Or a pair of pants? With a shy smile, she rose and headed in through the main doors.

  As promised, she met the waiting Nate at the bench. “Shall we?” he said as he waved his hand and pointed towards the coffee shop.

  “We shall,” she replied.

  When she wasn’t as fast as he was, he slowed. “So, tell me, what’s your aversion to ca
rs?”

  She stopped walking and faced him, arms crossed. “I have no aversion.”

  “Oh yes you do, but I’m truly curious as to why?”

  “Why? What does it matter?”

  “It matters because if I want to take you out somewhere, I’d like to pick you up and drive you, the way a proper man should. None of this meet you there, BS.”

  She resumed walking, and a funny impish smile tugged at her face. “’Fraid I’ll take off?”

  “Well, you didn’t this time, so I’ll say that there’s only a fifty percent chance of being ditched.”

  “What can I say? I’m unpredictable like that.” She shrugged and tugged at her sleeves, pulling them over her palms.

  “Indeed. Playing hard to get too.”

  “I do no such thing. I’m an open book, with nothing to hide.” Smugness crossed her face.

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Really? So then, why are you afraid of cars?”

  She squinted her eyes at him in mocking disapproval.

  “See,” he pointed, “right there. You’re a closed book.”

  They reached the open door of GrabbaJoes and entered. “What do you want?” she asked after giving her order to the barista – a maple macchiato.

  “Nothing pretentious,” he joked as he scanned the boards and ordered a flat white.

  “Outside?” Aurora tipped her head with her warm coffee in her hands. “The patio’s open.”

  “Sure, why not?” After they located a free table, he stepped behind her, and pulled out her chair.

  Aurora laughed. “Seriously?” When he didn’t laugh, she bit the inside of her cheek. “Sorry, I’m not used to that.”

  “Apparently. You never dated a guy who did that for you?” She didn’t answer. “My dad always did that for my mom. Lead by example, he’d say, show the lady she’s worth it.”

  “Oh? What happened to him?”

  Nate twiddled his thumbs, and when he responded, he avoided her. “Dad died a few years back. Cancer.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I truly am.” She reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze. It was an honest thing to do, but it felt good. And judging from the way he glanced from their hands to her eyes, it must’ve felt good to Nate too.

  “Thanks.”

  “I know how tough it can be to lose a parent. I lost my mom and sister almost two years ago.” She welcomed the voice she gave her own loss, but took little comfort knowing someone else had survived that.

  People held their fancy coffees as they walked by, laughing loudly. It annoyed her. They were sharing a personal moment, and she would’ve preferred privacy. Her metal chair scraped against the concrete as she scooted closer to him.

  “Yeah, it’s tough. The first year was the worse, but after a couple of years… Well, you develop new routines, different ones and you make the best of it. Mom’s doing well though. She’s tougher than I give her credit for. She’s always talking about him, even something little. The other night, while making cream of chicken soup, she added a sprig of parsley to the top. Just like he did.” Nate glanced around and squirmed in his chair. She wondered if it was hard for him to talk about his father.

  “Wish Daddy would.”

  “Daddy? Really?” He smirked, and his smile was the most beautiful thing to lay her eyes upon.

  Embarrassed, she pulled her hand away and picked at the raw cuticle on her finger. “Anyways, my father,” she said as he leaned closer to her. “He never talks about it. Dismisses it as if it never happened.”

  He reached for her hand, stroking the finger she’d tormented. The warmth coming from his hands soothed her although his skin was quite rough and callousy. It shouldn’t have surprised her holding the job he did.

  “We should get our parents together, Mom never shuts up about it and she can make anyone talk about anything.”

  She recoiled. “That would be… weird. Our parents getting together.”

  “Only weird if something were to happen between us.”

  “Because us happening would be weird?”

  “Are you always like this?” He cocked his head, a smile breaking out across his face.

  “Like what?”

  “Twisting everything anyone says?”

  “Perhaps.” She nodded and pulled her hands back, to take a long sip of her drink. A hint of a smile leaked out of her lips. A matching one played at the corners of his, pulling the left side up enough that his smile was lopsided.

  “You’re funny.”

  “Oh yeah,” she rolled her eyes, “A real riot act.”

  His eyes grazed over her, down to fingertips, and up her arms, landing on her blue eyes. “You’re very pretty, in an understated kind of way.”

  “Wow, you really are the master of cheesy pickup lines.” She took another long drink of her coffee.

  “Not really. I just tell it like it is.”

  “Well, understated is a good word.”

  He leaned back against his wrought-iron chair. “You’re incredibly difficult to read, you know.”

  “I prefer it that way. Lends itself to a little mystery.”

  “Yes, it does.” He took a drink, the foam sticking to his pale pink lips. “I like mystery. Means there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

  “And there you go again, Mr. Cheesy Pickup Lines.” She laughed, a good throaty laugh, tipping her head back in the process.

  He licked his lips, and matched her smile. “Hmm.”

  “Hmm what?”

  “Trying to think of what to say that won’t necessarily bring on a quick little comeback.” His voice full of curiosity.

  The weight of his stare was like a hundred pounds, so she gave her coffee a swirl.

  “You claim you’re an open book, which you’re not because you managed to completely avoid my questions. You have a witty sense of humour, which I’m rather fond of. You have a genuine fear of cars, which I’d like to get down to the bottom of, and you have an interesting fear of thunderstorms. And you have a mouth like a sailor.”

  “What? I do not.”

  “Yeah, you do. I heard you on the phone. Shame, shame.” He waggled a finger at her in jest.

  Laughing, she shrugged. “Well, we can’t all be perfect.”

  “I agree, perfection is boring.”

  He stretched out his long legs, and rested them beside her chair. “So tell me, Miss Aurora, what is it you like in a man?” He paused and leaned forward, and arched a sly brow. “It is men you’re interested in, correct?”

  With that, her cheeks flooded with a stinging shame. She could only imagine the way it had appeared to him. Her tongue failed to move and her brain could only say, “Shit” over and over.

  “I only ask, because I saw how you danced with that other girl at the club. That’s not how someone dances with just a friend. I’d never dance that way with my buddies.”

  No witty comeback available, she went with the truth. “Kaitlyn’s my best friend, and was my roommate in the university dorms. We’re close.”

  “That I saw.” His face displayed raw interest as he stroked his stubble covered chin.

  “Well, if you must know, no I’m not into girls, not that way.” She flashed back to Friday night, and heat coursed through her core as she remembered their dancing. “We’re just friends.”

  “Hey, it’s cool.”

  “Sure it is. Because it’s every guy’s dream, right? Two girls getting it on, fighting over a man.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Maybe for some, but I’m not particularly fond of sharing. A bad habit I developed as a child. Ask my mother.”

  Aurora laughed as she imagined him as a child. How cute would he be?

  “So,” Nate said, “back to my question, Miss Avoidance. What do you find appealing about men? Shall I continue to chase or not?”

  “You really are direct.”

  “Well no point in beating around the bush.” Aurora raised her eyebrows suggestively, to which Nate laughed. “Touché.” He took a drin
k. “So?”

  “I’m not going to be able to avoid this, am I?”

  “Nope. I’m very curious.”

  Aurora leaned back on her chair, and crossed her legs. After a half second of stabbing hip pain, she uncrossed them, cursing in her head and instead, crossed her legs at the ankle. “Well, I like a man who respects women.” He nodded. “Someone who knows how to treat a lady and yet doesn’t pamper her like a princess.”

  “Okay.”

  She watched his face as she spoke, observing the way his tongue stud danced over his teeth when he contemplated her words. “I like him to be strong, and yet gentle spirited. Someone who knows his way around the female body, and knows what makes her tick.” She winked, and he edged his chair closer. “A man needs to be loving and compassionate, honest and trustworthy. He shouldn’t give up when the going gets tough, either.” Like Derek did.

  “I’m so close on this one.” He smirked.

  “Oh yeah, which part are you faulting on?” She licked her lips as she leaned towards him.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  She cocked her eyebrow. “Yes, I would. Very much indeed.” Her eyes searched his face, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. Pouting internally, she said, “Oh, yeah, one other thing. He can’t have a tattoo.”

  “Well, there goes that. I’m out.” He leaned back and pulled up the sleeve of his black shirt, revealing a gorgeous colour tat. It extended over his shoulder and onto his back.

  “Are those feathers?” She ached to run her fingers over it.

  “It’s an angel, fighting the devil. My dad’s the angel, cancer’s the devil.” After she admired the complexity of what she saw, he recovered his arm. “Guess we can only be friends.”

  “Guess so.” She stared at him through the fringe of her lashes, and wondered if the playfulness was still there or if it had packed up ship and left harbour. Another long gulp as she waited.

  “Well, is there anything else?”

  “Huh?”

  “Anything else you desire in a man? Anything else, physical?”

  She smiled. Game on. “Of course. He has to be hot, real fucking hot.” She fanned herself. “So hot that I can barely keep my pants on and the anticipation nearly kills me.” Seeing him wiggle in the seat spurred her to keep talking. “Dark hair and eyes are a must, and a killer smile. One of those panty wrecking smiles.”

 

‹ Prev