Rescue Me

by Rochon, Farrah

  Renee thought about Friday night and her date with Rashad and Stanley Kubrick at his most symbolic. She wondered what Alex Holmes had planned for this Friday night. She couldn’t imagine him out clubbing, especially with a six year old to take care of, and definitely not with that injured shoulder he had to nurse back to health.

  And just why are you thinking about him, anyway? Renee thought to herself.

  “Because he is fine as hell,” she answered aloud.

  Margo poked her head out of Alex’s kitchen pantry. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the house? Even if it’s just another week?” She grabbed the aluminum foil from the pantry, tore a piece from the roll, and used it to wrap up the remaining apple pie.

  “One week won’t make much difference,” Alex answered.

  “Of course it would. It’s an additional week of healing time for your arm.”

  “I can handle it, Mama. Stop worrying.”

  “That’s not going to happen no matter what you tell me,” Mama said as she rinsed suds off a dish and wiped it dry. Not only had she brought dinner and dessert, but she’d insisted on cleaning up, too.

  “I was going to wash those dishes,” Alex said.

  “You were going to put them in the dishwasher. I’ve told you that you can’t count on those machines to get your dishes clean.” She lowered the pot that had held the chicken stew into the soapy water. “So, things went well at the school today, huh?”

  They’d talked a little over dinner about his and Jasmine’s day at school, but now that Jazzy had gone into her room to work on her penmanship, he could fill Mama in on everything he’d observed, which actually wasn’t much. Of course, Jasmine had not engaged in any of the behavior that had caused Principal Green to originally call him in, not with him in the classroom. The psychologist still thought his volunteering was the best way to allay Jasmine’s irrational— albeit understandable—fears of him dying.

  “Everything went well, but I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” He walked over to the sink and leaned against the counter. “Both Mrs. Overland and the school psychologist said they don’t expect her to misbehave while I’m there. It’s when I start to gradually back away that the psychologist thinks she may start to rebel again.”

  “The fact that she’s using Chantal’s death as an excuse concerns me. She seemed to be coping so well over the last year.”

  Alex shook his head. “Maybe she’s trying to get attention, and she thinks reminding them that her mother is dead will get her sympathy from her teachers. According to Toby, it worked for him.”

  Mama looked back at him with a disgusted eye roll. “Toby needs a good smacking,” she grunted. “What did Jasmine say when you talked to her about acting out at school?”

  Alex ran a hand over his head. “We haven’t really talked about it. I told her she was punished because I was called to the principal’s office for her, but that’s about it.”

  “Alex.” She turned and perched a hand on her hip. “What good is punishing her if you don’t discuss why she’s being punished?” she asked, the words thick with chastisement.

  “I know that won’t cut it,” Alex sighed. He attempted to cross his arms over his chest, then realized he couldn’t with his right shoulder’s limited range of motion. “But I have to psyche myself up for this conversation, Mama. I’ve been avoiding it for over two years.”

  “You need to sit her down and really talk to her, Alex. Jasmine has been through a lot for a little girl. That’s something we all have to remember. Just because she no longer cries every day, it doesn’t mean she’s over Chantal’s death.”

  “I know,” Alex admitted.

  “Think of how hard it was for you boys when your dad died,” Mama said, wiping her hands with a dishcloth as she made her way to his side. She cradled his jaw in her palm, which was still moist and slightly wrinkled from the water. “Your daughter needs you, Alex. You need to be there for her. Find a way to make her open up to you.”

  He nodded, covering her hand. “I’m going to talk to her.” Eventually.

  After Mama left, Alex poked his head into Jasmine’s room. She sat up in her bed, her back against the headboard, a book opened in her lap.

  “How’s it going, Pumpkin?”

  She looked up. “Okay, I guess.”

  Alex stepped into the room. “Something wrong?”

  She shrugged.

  “What is it, Jazz?”

  “I’m missing The Suite Life of Zack and Cody,” she answered. Alex’s mind drew a blank; then he remembered it was one of those shows on the Disney Channel she couldn’t live without.

  “No television for the rest of the week is part of your punishment,” Alex reminded her.

  “I don’t like being punished,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

  “That’s the point.” He stepped farther into the room. This was the perfect time to bring up the topic he and Mama had just discussed, but after such a long day, Alex didn’t have the mental strength for such a heavy conversation.

  Or maybe he was just being a coward.

  “What are you reading?” he asked.

  Jasmine held up the book.

  “The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes. Is it any good?” Alex asked.

  “Yes,” Jasmine said with an emphatic nod. “All the people at school make fun of Wanda because she wears the same dress to school every day, so she lied and told them she has a hundred dresses. But, Daddy, they shouldn’t make fun of Wanda just because she’s poor.”

  “No, baby. You should never make fun of anyone.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “That sounds like a really good book for you to read.”

  “Ms. Moore said it was her favorite book when she was a little girl.”

  Alex’s stomach tilted just at the mention of Renee Moore. “So, you like Ms. Moore’s class?” he asked Jasmine.

  “Yes.” Jasmine’s eyes lit up. “If I get all the questions right on my next quiz, I get an eraser that looks like an apple and smells like an apple. I want that eraser, Daddy.”

  Alex chuckled at the seriousness in her voice. “Well, you need to get to reading.”

  “I know. And I like the book, too. It’s good.”

  “Wow, an eraser that smells like an apple and a good book. School is a lot more fun these days then it was when I was a little boy.”

  “You didn’t read good books?”

  “Sometimes,” Alex said. “But we didn’t get to pick them ourselves. The teacher picked the books and we all had to read the same one. And we did not get prizes.”

  Jasmine shook her head. “Daddy, I am so happy I’m not old like you.”

  “Hey, I’m not that old.”

  “You’re a little old.”

  “That’s better,” Alex said. He leaned over and placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “I’m going to get your clothes ready for school tomorrow, okay, Pumpkin?”

  She nodded.

  Alex pointed to the clock on her nightstand. “Ten more minutes; then it’s time for you to go to bed. I’ll come back so we can say our prayers together.”

  A half hour later, after he’d tucked Jasmine into bed, Alex sat at the desk in the spare bedroom he’d converted into an office. He stared at the computer screen, contemplating the wisdom of picking it up and tossing the machine out the window. His professor had granted him an extension after he explained about his accident, but with the way he had to peck at the keyboard with one hand, he probably still wouldn’t get his paper done on time.

  If only he could go back to the days when his required reading was The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. These days, his reading time was consumed by European history. What in the hell had he been thinking when he’d signed up for this class?

  Alex clicked the disk icon at the top of the computer screen to save what little he’d been able to write on his paper, then shut down the word processing program. He would have to get to bed earlier if he was going to make it to St. Katherine’s on time tomor
row. Jasmine had nearly missed her bus this morning. He hadn’t expected it to take so much longer to get ready, but when trying to operate with only one functional arm he couldn’t expect things to work as smoothly as they usually did.

  Alex stripped out of his clothes and covered his bandage with the stretchy, plastic covering Eli had brought him from the hospital to prevent the dressing from getting wet.

  He stepped into the separate glass shower and dipped his head under the spray, expelling a contented sigh as the water flowed over his head and down his torso. The stress of the past few days had the muscles in his back rigid, the tension overwhelming. Alex turned the knob on the jets he’d installed—possibly the best decision he’d made when renovating this bathroom. The barrage of high powered water shot out of the stone laid shower wall, attacking his aching muscles with nearly painful force.

  God, it felt good.

  Alex let the powerful stream beat upon his body. As his muscles began to relax, he allowed his mind to wander. He wasn’t surprised when Renee Moore’s image popped to the forefront of his brain.

  Thoughts of her had hovered around the edges of his mind most of the day, and now that he had the time to really concentrate on her, Alex could not banish the onslaught of enticing pictures his mind conjured.

  There was something about her that captured his attention as no other woman had in years. That playful smile that tilted her lips and lit up her amazing eyes called to him. She’d been so easy to talk to the first day they’d met, when he’d walked her to her car and held her hand inside his own.

  His fingers tingled at the memory.

  He soaped his chest, using the heel of his hand to massage the aching muscles. His hand traveled down his stomach, then moved lower.

  Alex closed his eyes as his fist wrapped around the erection he’d become accustomed to taming in his nightly shower. But to night his hand didn’t move with the detachment he usually employed to bring about the physical release his body demanded. For the first time in years, his self gratification ritual was accompanied by a full blown fantasy.

  As he focused on the image of Renee’s face, his hand moved in slow, measured strokes. His breathing slowed, becoming labored with each pump of his fist. Alex thought about her smile, and his hand stroked faster. His memory summoned her sexy voice, and he pumped harder. He clenched his eyes tight; his pace frenetic as his fist moved faster and faster, squeezing tighter and tighter, pain mixing with pleasure. In his mind it wasn’t his own hand bringing about this rush of bliss; it was Renee’s.

  His release erupted in an explosion of pleasure. Alex braced himself against the shower wall; his knees weakened, his body shuddering as ripples of expended desire reverberated throughout his being.

  “Damn,” he whispered on a ragged breath.

  He opened his eyes and wiped at the water that flowed down his face in steaming waves. He tried to push himself from the shower wall, but after a slight wobble, realized his muscles didn’t have the strength. Alex sagged against the dripping wet tile, his body slowly recovering from the torrent of erotic sensations still coursing through his veins.

  “Have you given up on Mrs. Overland already?”

  Alex looked up from the list of students still waiting to see the nurse, finding Renee Moore’s enticing brown eyes staring back at him, a pretty smile gracing her lips.

  “Today is the hearing and sight screening for kindergarten through second grade,” he explained, gesturing to the clipboard with his pen. “I’m splitting my time between helping out in the classroom and giving Nurse Juliana a hand.”

  “I didn’t know you went out on loans.” She smiled. “Does this mean I can steal you for the library when I need extra help?”

  Was she flirting with him? “Um, I guess,” Alex answered. Her eyes always tended to have that sparkle to them whenever he saw her. He wasn’t sure if the smile in her eyes was just for him, or if everyone was afforded that sexy look.

  “I’m only kidding,” she laughed. She gazed over the array of colorful health brochures that had been laid out for the students. She picked up the one with the huge grinning tooth holding a toothbrush.

  “Are you sure?” Alex asked. “I wouldn’t mind joining you in the library. Just say the word, and I’m there.” Okay, was he flirting now? It had been a long time since he’d played the game.

  “Really, that was just a joke,” Renee said. “I’ve been doing a pretty good job holding down the fort in Mrs. Johnson’s absence. The library isn’t in danger of collapsing. Yet.” She smiled. “However, on the subject of needing a little extra help, my aunt nearly did cartwheels when I told her about your offer to check out the house.”

  “Good,” Alex said.

  “Whenever you’re able to stop by, you will be more than welcome.”

  “I can stop by tomorrow after school lets out, if that’s okay.”

  She hesitated for just a minute before nodding. “That’s fine.”

  “I promise not to take too long,” Alex said, sensing it wasn’t really fine. “I just want to get an idea of the work that still needs to be done so I can give my foreman a heads up. It should take a half hour, tops.”

  “Of course, of course” she said. “Let me give you the address.”

  She flipped over the smiling tooth pamphlet, took the pen out of Alex’s hand, and jotted an address on it.

  “I’ll have Aunt Lorna leave the front door to the house unlocked, just in case no one’s home. It’s not as if there’s anything inside worth stealing.”

  “I’ll be there between five thirty and six o’clock.”

  “That works for me,” she said. “Thank you so much, Alex.”

  “My pleasure,” he said with his own smile.

  “I’ll see you later,” she said, and headed down the corridor.

  Alex still wasn’t sure if he would admit to actively flirting, but seriously, how long had it been since he’d deliberately smiled at a woman, hoping to elicit a reaction from her? He was flirting with Renee Moore.

  And he was enjoying it.

  Chapter Six

  Alex spooned two scoops of mashed potatoes from the microwavable dish and brought Jasmine’s plate to the kitchen table where she sat with her chin resting in her hands.

  “Are we supposed to have our elbows on the table?” Alex asked.

  She slowly dragged her hands away from her face and let them fall into her lap. It would be one of those nights.

  “What do you want to drink, apple or cranberry juice?” he asked.

  “Can I have Sprite?”

  “No. Apple or cranberry?” Alex asked again.

  “Cranberry,” Jasmine said with that resignation that had become her signature when she knew she could not get her way.

  Alex retrieved two glasses and filled them with cranberry juice from the refrigerator. He picked up one glass and automatically reached for the other with his right hand, grimacing at the pain that shot through his arm.

  He was getting tired of this one handed crap.

  It had been nearly a week since he’d left his mama’s house and moved himself and Jasmine back into their home. Alex wondered for about the hundredth time if he’d made a mistake. He had to wake up an hour earlier in the mornings because it took him twice as long to do everything with one arm still incapacitated.

  Alex brought Jasmine’s juice to the table, then went back for his own. Taking his seat, he reached out his hand and Jasmine laid her tiny hand in his palm.

  She bowed her head and prayed. “Father God, bless this food, my family, and my mommy in heaven. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Alex reiterated. He gave her hand a squeeze before letting it go.

  His chest tightened at just the thought of this little girl. Her mere existence was such a source of wonder; he could stare at her for hours on end and still marvel at the gift God had given him when He’d blessed him and Chantal with their daughter. Jasmine was the one thing that prevented Alex from completely regretting his ill fated marriage.
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  It wasn’t until Jasmine asked, “What, Daddy?” that Alex realized he was still staring at her.

  “Nothing,” he answered. “How was your music class?” he asked, using his fork to break off a chunk of meat loaf.

  “I got to play the cymbals,” Jazz answered around a mouthful of potatoes. He couldn’t fault her for this slip in manners. He had asked the question just as she was stuffing the potatoes into her mouth.

  Alex wished they could sit and talk cymbals throughout dinner, but that would be avoiding the issue. Dr. Powell had recommended Alex broach the subject of Jasmine’s behavior since he had already been at the school for nearly a week.

  “How do you feel about me hanging out at the school?” Alex asked.

  She scrunched up her mouth and shrugged.

  “What’s that face supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Jazz mumbled.

  “Well, do you like me being at the school, or do you want me to start staying home?”

  Another shrug.

  This was going well. “Jazz, do you know why I’ve been helping out at the school lately?” Alex asked.

  “Because Grandma and the doctor said you can’t pick up big stuff at your job,” she answered.

  Alex chuckled. Of course, Grandma’s orders rated higher than the doctor’s.

  “That’s true,” he said, “but that’s not the only reason I’ve been at your school this week. You know why Daddy had to put you on punishment, right? Because you called Mrs. Overland nasty names and threw the chalkboard eraser at her.”

  She slumped her head, burying her chin in her chest.

  “Why did you do that?” Alex asked.

  She hitched her shoulders, but said nothing as she pushed the remaining potatoes around her plate.

  “Jasmine, look at me.”

  She raised her head and her eyes were bright with unshed tears, her bottom lip quivering.

  Alex clenched his fist against the urge to pull her into his arms and tell her all was forgiven, but that wouldn’t solve this problem. She needed to admit to what she had done.