by Dee Stone
Hearing another groan elsewhere in the room, I ignored it. Concentrating on Mary was my prime concern. I didn’t care about anyone else right now, especially her father.
The bright color of a pillow caught my eye, and I reached out to grab it, gently placing it under her head.
“Mary. Mary, talk to me.” I pushed the hair away from her face and inspected her pale color. Thankfully, there was no blood. That’s good, right?
Another moan, but this time her eyelids fluttered. “Come on, Mary.” I begged. “Open your eyes for me, Bella.”
Her eyelids moved again, though this time they opened for a moment before closing. The moment they had been opened for there seemed to be no recognition.
How could she be hurt so badly, yet not hit her head?
Mary’s head moved slowly from side to side for a moment before opening, her blue eyes holding slight recognition of me in them.
She put a hand to her forehead, the space between her eyebrows wrinkling as if she were trying to remember something.
“My father was here?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes darting around the room as if maybe it weren’t true.
Hearing the deep groan of a male voice, I glanced in that direction. I almost sighed in relief when I saw Paul getting to his hands and knees, shaking his head.
Mary turned her head, seeing the state her father was in, “Dad?”
Helping her to her feet, she shook me off impatiently, as she took the few steps necessary, bending over to check on Paul. He placed a hand on her arm, as if he needed the help, and gave me a quick underhanded smirk. I knew I was in trouble then.
“Mary are you okay?” he asked, concern deep in his voice. Though the quick, smug glance he gave me while Mary was fussing over him didn’t go unnoticed. Big trouble.
“Dad, what happened? Were you in a fight?” She stood, her hands on her hips and her brows furrowed.
“I don’t know, princess, I think Markus attacked me. I came to see you.” He tried to sound confused, his eyes wide, and from the look on Mary’s face, she was buying it. Turning toward me, she shot me a narrow-eyed glare.
“But why would he attack you, Dad?” She was at least thinking rationally. I had no reason to attack him.
“What do you remember?” Paul asked.
Her eyes rose to the ceiling and rested there as she thought. “Not much. I remember a knock on the door and that’s it. Did I hit my head or something?”
I nodded. “Or something. You fell, and I held my hands out before you hit your head on the coffee table, but maybe you clipped it.” I jerked my chin in the direction of said object and her gaze followed my movement.
“So, Dad, what are you doing here? How did you find us? And you came to visit us at six in the morning?” I let her continue with her questioning. She seemed to be going in the right direction.
Giving them a moment together, I let them work it out. I wish I had known that idea was going to bite me in the ass.
I knew the small fridge in the living area held water bottles, so I headed there instead of the kitchen. Grabbing three water bottles I made my way back to the large foyer in hopes things were working out.
On the way back, I stopped in the bedroom and slipped a pair of pants on. Not wanting to hang all out alone.
When I entered, they were standing side-by-side, facing the direction I would come from. Mary was dressed, bearing a betrayed look, compared to Paul’s face full of satisfaction.
I cursed myself for trusting Paul. I just didn’t understand what he suddenly had against me. I knew he didn’t want me dating his daughter, but she was an adult.
I decided to tough it out and pretend I didn’t see anything wrong.
“Paul, I’m glad to see you’re doing alright. It was a good idea trying to get to her, but I was closer,” I said with false joviality.
“Markus,” he lowered his head, so Mary couldn’t see the expression his face was now wearing, while making sure that I could. Shaking his head back and forth in false disappointment, he replied, “I’m so disappointed in you. Why couldn’t you wait to fuck my daughter until she was twenty-one? It’s only a couple months.”
I jerked my head up at his words about Mary’s age, glancing at her, but quickly looking away again. I didn’t want to give him any advantage. I was hurt that she had lied to me. I know she wanted to get rid of her troublesome virginity, but I thought we had a connection, besides fucking. I guess I was wrong.
“Well she was a good fuck,” I shrugged, trying to hurt her as badly as I felt. “At least you’re here now, and she doesn’t have to leave alone.”
“How long are you planning on staying?” Paul was jovial he had gotten his way.
“Not long, since I finished with the board yesterday. A few days probably; I need to finish dispersing my grandparent’s property.”
She had a determined look on her face as she asked, “Dad says you attacked him. Is that true?”
My brain went blank for a moment at her question. How could she ask me that after the night we just had? She knows her father is an asshole. I saved her life, doesn’t she realize that?
“Mary,” I started, my brain scrambling, trying to think of something to say in my favor. “Don’t you remember? Paul burst into the room and struck at me first?” I said gently. He was still her father after all.
She turned to her father, the question plainly written on her face. “Princess––”
Mary made a cutting off motion with her hand, her expression changing to irritation. “No more princess.”
“Mary, don’t you remember? I came to see you, and Markus attacked me.” I rolled my eyes at his lies. He was truly going all out.
“Why can’t I remember?” I could tell she was starting to get scared. I was as well. She hadn’t seemed to hit her head. I mean, I don’t think she hit her head.
“Let’s get you to the hospital for a CAT scan. I’m sure we’ll get some answers once we are there. Let me get a shirt on.” I rushed into the bedroom and threw on a plain white t-shirt. “Come on, let’s go.” I grabbed her hand, I swept her into my arms. Paul followed behind us, blustering.
The ride to the hospital in my Jag was fast, and I admit, I may have run a couple red lights. I’d pay the tickets if they had a camera. It would be worth it.
When we got to the hospital I gathered Mary into my arms and went into the emergency department. There, we were met at the nurse’s station. “What’s your emergency?” the nurse asked, her stethoscope out, examining Mary.
“She tripped and fell. As far as I know she didn’t hit her head, but she can’t remember what happened immediately before.”
“How do you know she didn’t hit her head? she asked, giving me an inquiring look. Orderly!” she shouted.
“She fell, caught her head in the palms of my hands.”
“Was she unconscious at all?” she spat the question out.
“For a few minutes.” I was getting scared with this line of questions. What if she was seriously hurt?
The orderly came in with a gurney, and I gently placed her on it. Craning my head, I watched as it carried her out of sight.
11
MARY
I rolled my eyes so much I imagined them rolling out of my head. Was this necessary? One thing was certain, I was quite happy I had gotten dressed because this place was damned cold, and I felt ridiculous lying on this gurney with my shoes on.
Staring at my surroundings, the doors to the rooms passed quickly as we rushed by. Suddenly, the gurney hit a door before arriving at our destination…wherever that was.
“Are you able to change?” a nurse asked, handing me a paper gown.
I shrugged and taking the gown I make my way into the bathroom to change. After taking my folded clothes and placing them on the dresser, the nurses had me lie on the bed before hooking me up to numerous contraptions.
The door opened and a tall woman in a white coat entered. She hurried over to my bedside and checked the chart the nur
se had handed her. Reading it, she leaned over me and began checking my head for bumps or bruises.
Her long, delicate-feeling fingers skimmed over my exposed skin, but I could feel strength in them. She searched through my scalp, finding nothing. She checked my pupil reactions, tested my fingers and toes by jabbing a sharp object in them, and she checked the soles of my feet by running something along them. She sighed heavily, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her white coat and relaxed her shoulders. “Do you want the bad news or the good news first?”
I raised my eyebrows at her question, surprised. “Um, good?”
“I can’t find anything wrong with you. We can do a CAT scan, but I don’t think it will find anything. It would be a waste of time. Yours and mine,” she paused as I waited for the punch line.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “And the bad news?”
“I think this memory loss is you mentally fighting something you don’t want to deal with. Something happened, and you need to deal with it. I’m not a psychologist, just a neurologist,” she said, resting her hand against mine for a moment. She was looking into my wide eyes as if she was trying to pull the “something” from my mind. Nodding, she turned and left the room.
I need to deal with the elusive something. How am I supposed to find this something and get my memory of that half hour back? I know it wasn’t much time, but it is my memory.
A discreet knock on the door revealed a nurse, peering from the other side. In her hands were my clothes. With a slight smile she laid them on the bed and left, closing the door firmly behind her. I jumped up and bounced, hurrying to the bathroom, as the soles of my bare feet hit the cold tiles of the floor. Hurrying to change to my clothes and get out of the paper gown, I couldn’t help but think, about how awful those gowns were.
With a deep sigh of relief at the feel of my own clothes on my body, I escaped the room to stroll down the hallway, trying to figure my way out. We had made so many turns on our way in I was completely lost. Spying a nurse, I stopped, “I’m trying to find the nurse’s station. My friend might be there waiting for me.”
She was unusually cute with dark curls, wild spirals about her head, with warm brown eyes. Her smile was blindingly bright. “You’re almost there, come with me. I’m going there anyway. I’m Nicole.” she said, slipping her arm through mine. “Are you a patient here that they let out?”
I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips. “Let out is a good way to put it. I’m Mary,” We both continued giggling as we made our way to the nurse’s desk, the waiting room to the left.
Oh joy! I thought, seeing both my dad and Markus standing on separate sides of the large room, glaring at one another. Both stood stiffly, their hands fisted at their sides, and I could practically hear growls coming out of their throats. I was waiting for them to lift their legs and piss against the walls. If they only knew how much they looked alike.
I giggled at the thought. Covering my mouth with my hand so they couldn’t see, my new friend, Nicole, did the same. I was hoping she would turn out to be an actual friend because I didn’t really have any. Sure, I had rich friends who only cared about what clothes they would wear that day, but that wasn’t real friendship.
Failing at hiding our laughter, both men turned their glares upon us for our silliness. They were right, we shouldn’t be acting like teenagers, but with what I had been through with my father and Markus, I deserved it. My memory was trickling back.
Hurrying over to the nurse’s station, Nicole collected the insurance paperwork for me to fill out so I could leave.
After I completed the paperwork we exchanged numbers, and I slowly turned to the men, painting the ugliest scowl I could imagine on my face. With my hands on my hips, I waited for them to approach like schoolboys in trouble.
“Bella,” Markus began before he was interrupted by my father.
“Stop with all the stupid Italian. You’re as American as I am.”
“I have been living in Italy for ten years, with my Italian grandparents. They spoke limited English, so we spoke mostly Italian at home. So, I will use occasional Italian words. So grazie, Paul, grazie.” I could see the smirk on Markus’s face as he taunted my dad. I could see my father’s corresponding scowl.
“Come on, children. I’m the one who was just released from the hospital, remember?” I said, stomping my stubborn ass out of the hospital and out into the parking lot, with two disgruntled, grown boys behind me.
12
MARKUS
I can’t believe she treated us like recalcitrant children. We are grown men and have a right to disagree…with our fists, if necessary. Besides, that’s the best way I’ve found to iron out disagreements.
Leading Mary by her elbow to my Jag, Paul tagged behind, grumbling to himself. However, it didn’t take long before Paul exploded. The problem ensued when he grabbed Mary’s other arm, trying to pull her toward him.
That pissed me off something fierce. I ripped her away from him, the two of us treating her like a ham bone. I had no choice in the matter. I had to get her away from him, even though he was her father.
Of its own volition my fist found Paul’s jaw. I don’t know what happened, my fist had a mind of its own. This time, however, Paul didn’t go down. Rather than letting go, Mary was pulled further away from me by her father. So, doing the only thing I could think of, I let go of her elbow, afraid she would get hurt.
Paul’s stumbling backward made my heart feel good. Especially when he finally let her go.
Mary stood, her hands on her hips, a deep scowl painted on her face. Her breaths came fast and hard in her anger. Uh-oh. To my shock, I was in luck, rather than turning her anger on me, she turned her anger on her father.
“Dad, what were you thinking? I’m not a bone to tug between the two of you.” She tried to keep her voice low since there were people around, but I could hear the anger quavering her voice.
“Princess,” Paul started. That was as far as he got before she gave him the look. The look women have given men through time immortal. A slant of the head, lips pressed firmly together. I imagined I could see her hair rising about her head, floating.
“Dad, you were going to say?” Mary raised both of her eyebrows and widened her eyes in question.
“Nothing, Mary. Nothing.”
Smart man. Finally. I smirked at him in satisfaction. However, that got me the look. I stepped back in defense, and quickly glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Of course, Paul did, a slight, satisfied smile playing on his face. It was only a slight smile, due to the blood oozing from his split lip. Huh, maybe Mary is right. We are schoolboys.
“Come on, Bella. Let me take you home. We have work tomorrow.” I said, trying to save the situation with my Mary. I had hoped maybe herding her to my car might work, but I could see her mouth opening to give me a stinging retort.
“Hey, Mary,” a female voice called out. As the three of us turned to look we saw the nurse she had appeared with earlier walking quickly toward us, a bright smile on her face.
“Nicole. Hi.” Mary gave her a relieved smile in return.
“Whatcha up to? Going home? Why don’t you come over to my place? I’m off work now.” Nicole stretched her arms over her head and weaved her body back and forth as she stretched. Mary gave a short huff of laughter at her antics.
“Sure,” Mary agreed, nodding violently. I couldn’t help thinking, If her head were a bobble doll, it would be a cute one.
“Boys, you’re on your own. Please don’t kill each other. And if you do, make sure there’s plastic on the floor to protect it and make clean up easy.” Mary bounced over to Nicole waving to us as they walked off, heads together, arm in arm. Fast friends.
That left Paul and I, standing like idiots, staring at each other. “Come on, Paul. Let’s get a drink. Maybe we can hash this out.” I decided to try being reasonable. Standing with my hands in my back pockets, I waited for Paul’s answer.
I could see his wheels
turning as he thought about the idea before finally nodding. Still not having said a word, I didn’t quite trust the way he was acting, especially with the devious glint in his eye. But I had to try. This was Mary’s father after all.
I opened the passenger door for him and he slid into the butter soft leather seats of the Jag. After sliding the seat back to accommodate his long legs, he leaned his head back on the headrest and sighed in relief.
Out of the corner of my eye I glanced at Paul resting against the seat as it soothed him. I leaned forward, fiddling with the controls that controlled the seat and backrest, heating and massaging him.
After watching him for a few minutes I knew he was asleep, so I pulled over to check out upper scale restaurants that served a good meal and alcohol. For me it was still too early for strong liquor, but a beer certainly couldn’t hurt. I stretched my neck, the stress of the morning making the muscles tight.
Ah! There we go. The Smokehouse Brewery. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a collection of beers. That sounds perfect.
Making sure I knew the directions, I checked all my mirrors for cars or cops and did my illegal U-turn.
Trying to wake up Paul was for the birds. He slept like the dead. “Paul!” I shouted in his ear, shoving him hard. He snorted and shook his head as he blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to come to his senses. His slack face rapidly became hard again as his sharp eyes settled on me.
“Come on, Paul. Are you awake yet? Man, you’re a hard guy to wake up. You sleep like the dead. Does the Smokehouse Brewery sound good for breakfast? I was looking forward to a fine steak with eggs and a craft beer.
He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought of a brewery. The twenty-five years of upper-scale living had turned him into a snob. I guessed living with my grandparents and their modest requirements kept me balanced in the real world.
Paul shook his head at first but shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence. We both exited the car and entered the restaurant. I liked it, with its presence of understated elegance.