Love Undecided

by Denise Wells

  “Yes,” says Remi. “But we are more feeling sorry for the boy that he was and the life that he could have had then we are the adult pedophile of today.”

  “You think so?” Lexie asks.

  “Definitely,” Remi says.

  “Well, that would make me feel better. To know that I’m not sympathizing with someone I’d like to see rot in hell,” I say. “Even though I really kind of am sympathizing with him.”

  “I still say it’s normal,” Remi says. “But more importantly, cheers to a job well done, my kick-ass crime fighting friend!” She raises her glass toward the middle of the table.

  I blush at the compliment, but of course still cheers to it.

  My phone dings with a text from Brad. My breath catches in my throat. I open it and it looks like a picture. Of a green blob.

  “What is this?” I show the picture to the girls.

  “Beats me,” Lexie says.

  “It looks like a tree to me,” Remi says. I look closer and she’s right.

  I get another text from Brad.

  Brad: Currently watching Ethan rescue a parrot and a cat from a tree.

  Me: A bird and a cat? You’re texting me this, why?

  Brad: Lady accidentally let the $10,000 bird out. Apparently he likes it in the tree. Cat jumped on the opportunity, pun intended, now both are stuck about 20’ up. Thought you’d enjoy it.

  Me: I’m sorry, did you say $10,000 bird?!?!

  Brad: Yep. And that’s Ethan half in half out of the telescope platform trying to get in a position to at least rescue one or the other.

  Me: So that’s what the picture is. It looked more like a green blob.

  Me: For some reason I thought you’d be texting me an apology.

  Brad: Apology? For what?

  Brad: Wait, are you saying YOU’RE mad at ME?

  Me: Yes, I’m mad at you.

  Brad: What did I do?

  Me: Seriously? You’re trying to dictate my actions and tell me what to do. Like some kind of dictator micro-manager.

  Brad: I think you’re exaggerating just a bit. Especially with all the ‘dictating’ you seem to think is going on. I don’t like it when you put yourself in danger unnecessarily, and that’s never going to change. What you did was selfish and inconsiderate and you didn’t give my wants or needs any thought when you made that decision.

  Me: Well, you knew what you were getting into before you jumped back in.

  Brad: What’s that supposed to mean?

  Me: I am who I am and THAT’S never going to change. I’m going to do what I think is right when I need to, even if you don’t like it.

  Brad: And how I feel means nothing?

  Me: Well, when you say it like that it sounds really bad.

  Brad: Kat - you’re saying you don’t care about your own safety. And worse, you don’t care that I care about your safety.

  Brad: I get your need to be reckless at times. Hell, I even support some of it. But, goddammit, don’t put me in a position where I have to watch you purposefully risk your life. Not when we already know your time may be limited as it is. Your safety comes before all else. Just please give me this one thing. Please.

  And just like that it hits me. This is my guy. Not only do I need him, but I deserve him. He’s it for me and there is no one else. Really, there never has been. I couldn’t be luckier than to have him as mine.

  Me: Holy shit. I’m such an asshole. I’m so sorry.

  Brad: There’s no reason to apologize.

  Me: Yes there is. I’m so lucky to have you.

  Brad: Well, I can’t argue with that.

  Me: Wow, full of yourself much?

  Brad: I’ll show you something full.

  Me: Was that supposed to be a sex innuendo/joke?

  Brad: Only if you found it funny and me irresistibly appealing.

  Me: I think it fell a little flat. But, I will say this - thank you for sticking with me, even though I’m a pain in the ass, basket case sometimes.

  Brad: Sometimes?

  Me: haha

  Me: Notice there are no exclamations points. They are sarcastic ha’s in case you didn’t notice.

  Brad: Noted.

  Me: I love you. Be safe. Thank you for caring about me.

  Brad: Always. Have fun, tell the girls hi from me. I love you.

  We eat our food, order another round, tease Remi about sexting with Alex last night, and give Lexie a hard time about agreeing to do a wine event with her ex, Trevor.

  All in all, it’s just like nothing has changed in my life.

  Yet everything has changed.

  I have my girls, I have Brad back, I still have no evidence of disease, the last week has been crazy insane, but starting tomorrow I have my life back. And I’ll have time to relax and just enjoy being me for a while.

  Remi and Lexie are talking about the next movie Lexie should show at Lovestone’s Movie Night. And I let myself zone out for just a minute so I can examine how I feel. And I realize I feel good. I’m comfortable financially which gives me breathing room to figure out what I want to do next. Because shouldn’t life be about pursuing what you want?

  In some really bizarre way, Gil Iverson taught me that. He pursued what he wanted, to his own detriment. Because, of course, what he wanted was illegal, but he still got what he wanted, what he needed. His pursuit was methodical and relentless. Not only did he want the girls. Or at least photographic representations of the girls. But he also wanted to be set free. And in his mind, jail was the only freedom. How that makes sense to him, I’ll never know. But he gave his life to it.

  I want to know what I want. And I want to pursue it.

  “That’s a lot of wants,” Lexie says smiling.

  I didn’t realize I’d said that last part out loud.

  “Lucky for you, you have plenty of time to figure out what you want,” Remi says.

  “Oh, maybe you should write a screenplay!” Lexie says.

  “Or a book, you should write a book!” Remi says.

  And we are off and running at the mouth again. Man, I love these girls!

  Hours later, I have Uber’d home, showered off the stench of interrogation at the precinct, and am now crawling into bed. Brad is on shift until six a.m. It will be weird to get used to him being here and then not being here again. With his schedule, he’s usually twenty-four hours on, forty-eight hours off. But even that changes sometimes. So I will get him some nights, but not others.

  Sigh.

  I shouldn’t already be used to him being back after just one night, but I am. I’m such a wuss. I text him a drunken good night and am asleep before I even have a chance to read his response.

  Chapter 55

  Kat

  I wake up late and slightly foggy from three margaritas the night before. Brad is curled up behind me, my back to his front. One arm under my head, the other around my waist and close to cupping a breast. I move to lay on my back, trying to go slowly. His hand moves from my breast to just below my belly button as he rolls the other way to his back.

  I peek over at him to see if he’s asleep, his eyes are shut, his chest rises and falls slowly with each breath. I realize I’d better get out of bed before I decide to wake him up with his cock in my mouth. He must have gotten off shift and climbed straight into bed. I ease myself out from under his arm and slip quietly from the bed so I don’t wake him. This would be a good time for soak now while I still have no disruptions.

  Now that my creepy stalker is behind bars, I’m going back to naked hot tubbing as often as possible. Starting now.

  I lower myself into the water and turn on the jets. As always, the feeling is one of almost immediate relaxation. I still have some unusually sore muscles in random places, thanks to Brad, and the warm water feels good swirling around them.

  I get situated in my favorite lounger seat and adjust the jets to hit my lower back and feet. Both have been giving me some issues lately, just a little pain and discomfort. Probably because I have been more a
ctive and on my feet more this last week than I have in many of the months prior.

  Force of habit causes me to bring my phone with me and set it on the side shelf near the hot tub. I’m not expecting a call, but this last week with Bauer and The Shower Stealer has made me realize that anything can happen at any time.

  I’m still clearing my head and stretching my muscles when I hear Brad quietly come outside and leave me a cup of coffee and my pills on the shelf by my phone. I smile in his general direction even though my eyes are still shut. Allowing him back into to my life and to take care of me again has been the best decision I’ve ever made.

  I reach blindly for the coffee and bring it closer to my face, inhaling the deep aroma. I’ve always loved the smell of coffee, there is nothing else like it. I take a couple sips, wash down my pills, then set the coffee back on the shelf and get ready for my meditation.

  Just as I’ve cleared my head and transitioned myself into a zen like state, my phone rings.

  “This had better good; you are interrupting my soak,” I say into the phone, not even looking to see who is calling.

  “May I speak to Katarina Walker, please?”

  “This is she,” I reply, sitting up and opening my eyes. It’s never good when someone is calling and using your full name to ask for you.

  “Katarina, this is Dr. Michaels, I am calling on behalf of your oncologist, Dr. Wilder, who as you know is on vacation this week. I’ve taken a look at your recent scans and wanted to let you know I have some concerns about what I’ve seen and I’d like for you to come back in as soon as possible. Today is preferable, really.”

  My head starts to swim, I feel nauseous and dizzy.

  “What” my voice croaks a bit and I clear my throat “what did you see that has you concerned?”

  I hear him answering me with words like multifocal, osseous, metastatic disease scattered throughout the lower cervical, thoracic, and lumbar spine and suspected leptomeningeal metastatic disease and my phone slips from my hands and into the water.

  Brad comes out to the deck, already dressed for the day.

  “Did your phone ring? Is everything okay? Who would call this early?”

  The look on my face must have said it all, because a minute later he is in the hot tub with me, fully clothed, and gathering me into his arms.

  “Baby! Babe, look at me. Kat, what happened? Are you okay? Baby, did you drop your phone in the water?”

  For a long moment, all I can do is just lean into him and try to glean a sense of safety and security from being in his arms.

  I’m in a fog.

  My brain isn’t working correctly, I can’t possibly have cancer again. I just helped the police solve The Shower Stealer case. I wouldn’t have been able to do that if my cancer was active again. I mean, Brad and I just got back together. Remi has a new boyfriend. There is no way that this is a convenient time for this.

  I look up at him, confused. “Did you come in the hot tub in your clothes?”

  “That’s not important right now, baby. Tell me what happened.” He sits down and pulls me with him onto his lap and is running his hands along my arms and back.

  “I think I dropped my phone,” I tell him.

  “It’s okay babe, I’ve got it.” He picks it up from the side shelf to show me. It’s dripping wet. Good thing I got that ‘life proof’ case for my phone.

  I take a deep breath, look up at Brad, and say, “That was the oncologist who is covering for Dr. Wilder, the cancer is back. It’s in my spine this time.”

  He cups my face in his hands. “We’ll get through this, Kat. Everything will be okay.”

  He says it with such tenderness, I almost believe him.

  Epilogue

  Kat

  So far treatment is staving off the cancer. It’s not diminishing, but it’s not growing either. Since it’s been six months, I consider myself lucky.

  Tonight is the annual Law Enforcement Ball, which includes a, sometimes contentious, blend of firefighters, police officers, and detectives.

  But it’s hard, when we go out, to acclimate myself with my appearance again. My hair is thinning, my face is bloated, and my complexion is splotchy. Tonight, I’m wearing a backless, slinky black dress, better suited as lingerie, and a dangerously high pair of stilettos. But I can’t decide between my hair and a cute little fascinator hat, or a wig.

  I’m sitting at my little makeup table in the bathroom, going back and forth with each on my head.

  Brad comes up behind me, he puts his hands on my shoulders as he leans in to nuzzle my neck. He peeks up at me in the mirror.

  “You look amazing, baby,” he says.

  “No I don’t. I look terrible.”

  “You look amazing to me.”

  “I don’t want to look amazing to you. I want to look amazing to everyone.”

  He raises one eyebrow at me.

  I have got to learn that eyebrow trick.

  “You know what I mean,” I tell him.

  “Go with the Angelica Houston looking wig,” he says. “It makes you look dangerous and your eyes totally pop.” He says the last part with a bit of a lilt in his voice and I can’t get but laugh.

  “I love you,” I tell him.

  “Not more than I love you,” he says, his voice normal.

  “God, we’ve gotten sappy,” I say.

  “It’s so gross, right?” he says, his voice back to the lilt. He’s in his dress uniform, and he looks amazing. I can’t help but eat him up with my eyes.

  “Keep looking at me like that and we won’t be going anywhere,” he says as he swoops down to kiss my neck again. He gets me in that spot and I groan, instantly eager and wet.

  “Do we have time for a quickie?” I ask.

  “Only if you put on the wig,” he says.

  We get to the Ball just in time to take advantage of the end of cocktail hour. I can’t drink when I’m in treatment, so Brad gets me a club soda with lime from the bar, and a local craft brew for himself. We settle ourselves into a corner of the ballroom and watch the people. I’m not quite as up for socializing lately as I’ve been in the past. I see two very familiar looking heads, but they disappear almost as quickly. I shake my head.

  “What’s the matter?” Brad asks.

  “Nothing, I just thought I saw Remi with Bauer. It was weird. I think my eyes are playing tricks on me.”

  “It sounds like it.”

  Then I see a flash of pink hair and am convinced it’s Lexie.

  “I swear I just saw Lexie too. I think I’m going off the deep end, babe,” I say. Brad turns me around to face him.

  “Imagining your friends is one thing, but if it turns into dancing unicorns or scary clowns, let me know.”

  I laugh.

  He smiles and spins me back around to face the ballroom.

  “Surprise!” Both Lexie and Remi yell.

  I jump so high ice flies out of my glass.

  “Holy shit! What are you guys doing here?” I ask as I move in to hug them both. They look amazing. Remi is in a three-quarter sleeve, gathered red wiggle dress with a crossover neckline that shows her curves off in an almost indecent way. With her dark hair in victory rolls, eyes heavily lined, bright red lips, and peep-toe pumps, she looks like a carryover from a pinup calendar you’d find in a mechanics shop in the 50’s.

  And Lexie couldn’t be more her opposite if she tried. Looking like a little punk rock pixie in a black strapless baby doll mini-dress with an extra-large glittered belt, tulle skirt, patterned black tights, and heeled ankle boots. Her bright pink hair pulled into twin spikey knots on either side of her head.

  “Sexy not-ex thought you could use a little moral support on your big night out,” Lexie says.

  “I’m so glad to see you guys. How’d you get in?”

  “Sexy not-ex got us dates,” Remi says.

  I turn to Brad. “Thank you,” I say and kiss him on the cheek.

  Ethan shows up behind Lexie and hands her a glass of champag
ne. He knocks beer bottles with Brad as a hello.

  “So, you’re the date?” I ask Ethan.

  “I’m a date,” he says.

  “And I’m the other,” Bauer says as he approaches. Handing Remi a martini, dirty from the looks of it. He holds up his glass of bourbon in acknowledgment.

  “I can’t believe you did this,” I say to Brad. He shrugs in return as if to say it’s no big deal.

  “And I really can’t believe you did this,” I say to Remi, motioning to Bauer.

  “I’m offended, Cookie,” Bauer says. “The Ice Queen and I have become friends.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say friends,” Remi says.

  “How about tolerating one another for an evening for the sake of a friend,” Lexie suggests.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Remi says.

  “Hear, hear,” Ethan says raising his bottle. Bauer drinks to it, shaking his head.

  A throat clears into the microphone on the stage, and the fire chief calls for everyone to find a seat as the first course will be served soon. We make our way to our table, and Brad pulls out my chair for me and gets me situated. Then whispers into my ear that he’ll be right back.

  Bauer, seated to my right, gives me a little wink. I squint my eyes back at him.

  The Chief, still on the stage, asks for everyone’s attention.

  “We have a very special presentation tonight that I know you won’t want to miss. If everyone could please quiet down for just a moment,” he says.

  The room quiets.

  I look around for Brad, not wanting him to miss the special presentation, but I don’t see him anywhere.

  “Hello.” A new voice beckons from the stage.

  Brad’s voice.

  “For those who don’t know me, my name is Brad Matthews. I’m a lieutenant with the SSFD.” A round of cheers and whistles echo through the room from his station mates and friends.

  “I’m up here tonight to ask for your help,” he says looking at me.

  I lean over Brad’s empty chair, to Remi, on my left. “If he asks for cancer research donations, I’ll kill him!”

  Her eyes twinkle back at me, but she says nothing.

  “You see,” Brad continues, “there’s a woman here with me tonight who means more to me than I can possibly put into words.” He pulls the microphone from the stand and begins walking across the stage with it.