by Roxie Odell
“Oh,” she said, climbing up on a Windsor chair so she was at the right height to kiss him. “Coffee and ice cream sound good,” she said, pulling away.
At that point, the tattoo artist/makeshift fashion designer ducked out to wash his hands.
Another customer entered the parlor, but Cheri didn’t stop. She gladly reacquainted herself with the sweet, wet warmth of his mouth. “Yes,” she said, “the lady will gladly have coffee, pie, and ice cream.”
Chapter 15
“Thank bloody goodness,” Cheri muttered as the last day of the workweek reared its head. There was no way she could imagine working more than today after the week she’d had and last night’s craziness. She was exhausted when she woke up on Friday morning.
She lifted her eyelids and found her ankle propped up on every pillow that was not under their head. She half-thought it was an absinthe-induced dream, as she still felt slightly intoxicated from the natural binge of excitement the night before. She looked down at her ankle and couldn’t believe her eyes. “Wow,” she mused. “I really did it. I really got a tattoo.”
Thankfully, Thomas was good enough to remind her to hydrate, so she was totally functional for work. Still, she would have given anything to sleep the day away, right where she was.
Thomas entered the room carrying a tray of oatmeal with raisins, along with a giant glass of orange juice.
“Mmm. I have got to stop eating this way,” she said, slurping down the sweet, buttery hot cereal.
“I promise to be a better influence from here on out.”
“Okay,” replied Cheri. “This is gonna put me right back to sleep, but it’s so tasty.”
Thomas lifted the spoon to her lips.
She opened for him, instantly entranced and looking him deeply in the eyes. With only one glance, she found herself yearning for him, even more than she wanted the hot, sticky oatmeal. It was like an endless cycle of desire, chasing, sex, and desire all over again.
“We should check out of here and get you settled in at my place tonight,” he said.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable with that? You mentioned you needed space…”
“I am. Positive,” he said. “I shoulda pulled my head out of my ass and asked you before, but here we are. Now.” He smiled apologetically. “We all get caught up in life sometimes. Just needed a wake-up call.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him, then teased, “We all have our heads up our asses every now and then.”
He smiled bashfully. “Anyway, just so you know, I may not be home every night. I have to check on my father once in a while.”
“That’s understandable,” she said.
“At least you’ll have some space and breathing room. Till your house is finished.”
Cheri understood why he said it, as it was a matter of fact that neither of them was used to living with a roommate. Nevertheless, the brash remark hurt a little. Just for a second, she felt as if he was just doing what he thought was the right thing, rather than what he wanted to do. Still, she didn’t want to give her insecurity any ground, as she knew it was more destructive than anything else. The man had her name tattooed on his magnificent shoulder. She knew his beauty attracted attention, and folks would certainly ask whose name it was, who she was. Deep down inside Cheri knew he would tell them, with a smile on his face, and that was all the reassurance she needed.
Thomas hadn’t said it so many words, but putting her name on his arm was as much of a commitment as he could make without using his words and declaring it. Besides, it wasn’t just up to him. He had chosen their matching tattoos, and while it sounded as if it was all his idea, she secretly wanted it, too. They didn’t have rings, but they had each other, in one form or the other, permanently inked on their skin.
“I have to go to work with this thing on my ankle,” she said with a faux scold.
“Sexiest girl at the office,” he teased. “Do you have another pair of shoes? If they’re at the house, I can run by and grab them.”
She laughed. “I’ll wear what I wore last night. I don’t care. As long as they’re comfortable.”
“That’s my girl.” He tilted his head and watched her move to get dressed. “You sure?”
“It’s no problem. I’ll just tell my boss I got loaded on absinthe and well, you know…” she said with a smile.
He beamed, as pleased as he could possibly be with himself for convincing her to step outside her comfort zone. “I can’t wait to see it when it’s all healed up.”
“Our first little motorcycle together,” she teased.
“Damn straight,” he said, then kissed her on the forehead. “Alrighty! I have to get going. Let’s get you packed up and checked out. Eat up,” he said and winked. “We have time for that, but then we have to scoot.”
***
She had been in that place before, that blissful utopia of perfection, and she basked in it even as she sat at work. By midafternoon, she felt the need to prop her foot up, because she was just a slight bit uncomfortable. Even among all that swelling and pain, though, Cheri found it quite helpful to console herself with the warmth and adoration of knowing she would be staying at his place that very night. The next time I pull sheets back to go to sleep, they’ll be his sheets, she told herself. I belong there, and we belong together.
The day rolled by at a steady pace and she was happy when the work part of it ended.
Unfortunately, Thomas would not be escorting her to his place; he’d already called to say he had to have a family meeting about the care of his father. They were giving in-house care a try, but Thomas was pushing for a standard hospice, so his dad would have ‘round-the-clock attention and he wouldn’t have to race to his place to relieve anyone. It was something of a battle among the relatives, as not all the family members were so willing to shell out the money for full-time care.
As much as she hated that she would be alone there the first evening, it would at least give her a chance to become acclimated at his place, and his snobbish cousin wouldn’t be there either, as she was with him in Maryland. She somewhat looked forward to having the place to herself for a little while.
Just as Thomas warned, his calls and communication dropped. Since his father’s place wasn’t equipped with Wi-Fi, that made it even tougher. When he did finally get in touch, it was wonderful, and she was in bed when the late-night text brought her phone to life.
How’s my sweetheart? He wrote.
Rather than going with her first impulse to whine at him, she wrote back, Missing you.
Wish I was holding you.
Where are you? she texted.
Long story, one I should tell you in person, he replied.
It was not a great answer. In fact, the vagueness of it scared her to death and she simply had to know more. Give me a hint, she wrote back.
I’m away taking care of some old business. There was a pause before the next text came through. Have sweet dreams now. I’ll be home soon.
***
The night turned into day, into another night, another day, and then another night. He didn’t come home, nor did he text. The weekend was quiet and lonely without him. Cheri felt guilty enjoying his place when he wasn’t there. However, she couldn’t very well go back to her house.
After being alone in the house for a couple nights, Cheri also grew bored. With nothing better to do, she became overcome with the temptation to snoop. She had done that once before, long ago, and discovered his name on his mail, as well as a tube of mascara that had broken her heart at the time. She worried about going through his things again, maybe learning more about him than she wanted to know, but there was still something deeply satisfying about discovering more and more about the man she loved. He trusted her with his personal space, so she was sure he had nothing to hide.
“And I do love you, Thomas Graham,” she said to the empty house. She hadn’t told him yet to his face, but she had already decided that when all the drama surrounding his father and her hous
e settled down and things leveled out a bit for them, she was going to make that confession. For that reason, she changed her mind…realizing that there was no need for her to search for secrets.
Back when she holed up with him during the hurricane, Thomas had been so guarded. He didn’t trust anyone with anything. Every time she asked him a personal question, he backed away. Still, there was no denying the blistering chemistry they had, right from the second they met, and she was sure that was how she’d gotten through to him. She thought she had learned her lesson about pushing him for personal information, that she only had to be patient, because right after she spied his last name on his mail, he told her anyway. It was a weird head space to be in, being ashamed of getting information he should have freely given, but they were all past that now. He had opened himself up to her, and she had to put her juvenile urges aside. She didn’t resist completely, as she did stroll through and open a few drawers, but she closed them as soon as she saw that the contents were meaningless.
In his office, just to the right of the front door, there were all kinds of check books and credit cards. She thought it was unsafe to stash so many financial things in one place, but she had to assume Thomas knew what he was doing. Ashamed of herself for having stuck her nose where it didn’t belong, she hurried out of his office and told herself she wouldn’t go in there again unless she was invited.
In the living room, there was a remote-controlled fireplace, a big-screen TV, and a nice stereo system. Cheri indulged in his electronics, as she felt she was completely entitled to that. It soon became her guilty pleasure to sprawl out on his sleigh couch and stream podcasts.
She adored that particular piece of furniture, as it was easily wide enough to accommodate two people. It was beautiful and decadent at the same time. It was a good thing, too, because as luscious as the bed in the master bedroom was, she didn’t like sleeping on the top floor, in his room. It felt too remote, and she much preferred the living room.
She was just about off to sleep when her phone rang. She was sure the caller could only be one person, and that thought thrilled her to the bone. “Hey!” she sang into the device.
“Guess where I am,” he said cheerfully.
“Um, Laurel,” she guessed.
“Nope,” he replied.
“Um, Bethesda,” she guessed again, not even trying.
“How about in my driveway?” he said.
“Really?” she said, instantly perking up. She raced to the front window and lifted the curtain, then peered into the darkness. It was so dark out that the only sign that he was there was a little glimmer where the fender of his truck caught some light. “Oh my gosh!” she squealed when she spotted him already coming through the door. She jumped up to embrace him, as if they hadn’t seen each other for weeks and weeks.
“Honey, I’m home,” he said, do his best Desi impression.
“How’d everything go?”
“Well, believe it or not, I finally talked the family into moving him to the hospice in Chevy Chase. The second one of them had to take a shift, they were all onboard. He’ll get much better care there, and none of us wants to be on duty when he passes. He’s already been transported there and is as safe and comfortable as can be expected.”
Cheri was so moved by his willingness to help his father, and she found it truly touching that he was there to fight for him, even after their touch-and-go relationship. It was yet another testament to the large heart he hid so well.
“Now, how’s my little tattoo patient?”
She showed him her ankle. She’d kept the bandage on, not sure when she was supposed to take it off.
“How many days has it been? I think we can take that off and see what we’ve got.” He lifted her and carried her to the sleigh couch. He carefully peeled the tape off the ink on her ankle to reveal a perfect, tiny little motorcycle.
She traced it light with her finger.
“Wow. Isn’t that just adorable?” he said, smiling. “It’s perfect. Do you like it?”
“I do,” she said, beaming. “It was a great idea. I’m so glad I thought of it.”
Thomas’s face spread with surprise. “You?” He shot her a hurt expression. “C’mere, Miss Hello Kitty,” he said, then started to tickle her, something he knew she absolutely hated.
“Uncle!” she cried.
He stopped instantly. “I’m not your uncle,” he teased, “but you can call me Daddy if you want.”
She scrunched up her brow, not sure if she liked that much. “You’re not my daddy,” she said, “but you’ll always be my…Thomas.”
“I’m that and then some,” he agreed and grazed her lips with his. When he pulled away from the near-kiss, though, there was a very serious expression on his face. “I know I had to get you good and liquored up to go through with it, but you’re okay with this, right? You seemed really onboard.”
“Of course I was, and I still am,” she said. “I kind of have to be, as I’m stuck with it for life now.”
“Just like me,” he said romantically. “I hope.”
There was such an intense attraction in the room, a heavy cloud of happiness draped all over them like the coziest of quilts.
He seemed ready to say more, but the ring of his phone stopped him short. “Damn it,” he complained when he looked at the caller ID. “Sorry, but I’ve got to take this.” He stood and walked toward his office, on the other side of the staircase. “Yes, this is Thomas Graham,” he said, very businesslike.
Cheri had never realized just how much she liked hearing his name, such a beautiful, powerful moniker, as strong as the man who held it. Thomas Graham…Cheri Graham, she thought. She caught herself staring at him, and while she knew he had a right to his privacy, she was a bit baffled by the weird face he made as he slumped against the front door.
“When?” he asked weakly.
She swore his voice went up an octave, as if he had somehow regressed to being a little boy. In that moment, she knew exactly what the call was and who it was about.
Thomas didn’t move much, except to press his phone button to end the call. He turned his head toward her, wearing a troubled look on his face, then grabbed his keys.
“Do you have to go?” asked Cheri solemnly.
“Yeah,” he said shortly, with a hostile look in his eye that instantly evaporated the good vibes they’d shared just moments before.
“I’ll go with you,” she offered.
“No, no,” he said tensely. “Stay.”
“But I want to be with you,” she insisted.
“No! This is not about you!” he snapped.
They were both stunned by his outburst.
Thomas had admittedly never been good at handling strong or painful emotions, and something about them turned him into a hothead. There was a definite pattern that Cheri wished she could deny.
“Look, I’m not really gonna be good company,” he said, trying to backpedal.
“Is it your dad?” she asked.
“Yeah, Cheri, who else?” he said, practically biting her head off again. “He wanted to know if we could go play golf on Sunday.”
“Gosh, Thomas, I just—”
“No, it wasn’t my father. It was the people at hospice. He’s gone. Dead. I’m sure it’s my fault. If I had just left him alone, let him be…”
“This isn’t your fault.” She reached to touch him.
He pulled away like her touch burned him. “Don’t. Please.”
She hugged her knees, his rejection hurting more than she wanted to admit. “What do you want me to do?”
Seeing the damage he’d caused, Thomas moved beside her with tears in his eyes. His voice was full of emotion as he uttered, “I just have to sign some stuff. I knew this was gonna happen. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”
“You were just doing what you thought was best,” she said, but he was not to be consoled.
Thomas held his head in his hands. “I killed him, Cheri,” he declared, in total
torment. “I insisted that they move him, and it was too much for him.”
“You didn’t know,” she insisted. She was still pissed that he couldn’t control his temper, but her heart broke for the agony he was in.
“Maybe I did know. Deep down, maybe I did,” he said. “You know I’m no good when it comes to facing difficult choices and hard emotions. I’m all up for fun and games, but this? I just…”
Cheri stood, confused. “Fun and games?” she asked.
“You know what I mean,” he said impatiently. He then offered her a kiss, but it was as cold as ice. “I’m sorry,” he said absently. He stuffed his wallet in his back pocket. “Don’t wait up for me,” he said. “I’ll probably be a couple hours. In fact, if you want me to check you back in at the hotel—”
“Wait. You want me to leave now?” she asked, in utter shock.
He hesitated. “No,” he finally said. “It was just an idea. I thought you might be more comfortable there, with all this shit going on here.”
“Are you okay to drive?” she asked plainly. “Clearly, you’re not yourself.”
“I’m fine.” He glared at her before suddenly storming out of the house.
Cheri stared at the door he slammed behind him, her heart riddled with hurt and worry. It felt as if he’d walked in with a bouquet of roses and left after beating her with them. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad suggestion for me to go back to the hotel.
She knew she wasn’t going to be able to go to sleep, even if she was completely exhausted, which she wasn’t, but she crawled back onto the sleigh couch and drew a light blanket up around her. Much to her surprise, after she listened to the podcast for a while, she began to doze off.
Hours later, Cheri was pulled out of the deep, intense sleep she’d somehow managed to achieve when she heard a key jiggling in Thomas’s door. Great. He’s finally home, she thought with a yawn, glancing at his stereo system to see that it was two-thirty in the morning. She wanted to be happy to see him, but her heart sank at the notion that she had no idea which version of Thomas she was going to encounter when he walked in.