by RJ Heaton
Heather slows her mid-sized sedan as we pull into the gates to the cemetery—the gates separating the living from the dead. A cold chill runs up my spine. Lance is in here. I scan the gravestones as we slowly drive past them. There are so many headstones … so many family members, friends, loved ones. I feel their loss. Heather stops on the side of the road while my eyes remain on the curvy grass lines of the cemetery. Her door startles me when it closes loudly in such a quiet, surreal place.
“It’s over here.” I nod in understanding as I get maneuvered into my chair. The trek through the grass in a wheelchair isn’t the easiest, especially since it’s wet from the sprinkling rain we’ve had all day. I hear Heather swear under her breath a few times after the abrupt stops from my wheels getting rutted. Thank heavens his grave isn’t too far from the roadside. I feel bad for my sister having to struggle on my behalf … again.
She comes to a stop in front of a fair sized gravestone layered with bright, beautiful flowers. They look fresh. Someone must be keeping fresh flowers on it—probably his mother and sister. The compassion I see with the gesture makes the tears come hard. “Can you push me closer?” Heather complies.
The stone is beautiful, and I’m glad no expense was spared. The encryption reads:
Lance Francis Montgomery
1978-2015
A son that lived as a hero
A brother
And a best friend
Let his journey be peaceful
I knew the tears wouldn’t be hidden, coming here. All of my hate, frustrations, and sadness come pouring out with my tears. At my feet lies a dear friend. I miss him so much. I wish I could tell him one last time how amazing he is, or … was. He’s here because I had to leave that damn party. “Lance, I am so sorry I did this to you! It should be me in your place!” I have to wrap my arm around my gut to try to contain the sharp, excruciating pain aching deep inside. “Why?” I yell into the air. I feel Heather’s light touch on my shoulder, but she says nothing. She knows that I need to get this out. I hate that I’m unable to pull myself together, but I just can’t get past the fact that somehow all of this is my fault. I feel responsible for the death of a human life. I don’t know that I will ever be able to move on from that.
I don’t want to leave, but the trickling spring rain has turned into a down pour. Both of us are soaking wet when we get back to the car.
“Nikki, are you ok?”
I know that it’s not Heather’s fault that she wants to make sure I’m alright, but I am so sick and tired of people asking me if I’m alright. No, no I am not alright. I am losing my freaking mind. I have lost so much in such a short time, and I don’t know that I can rebuild from this.
Sixteen
My lungs burn from my frantic breathing. The dark box is so tight and compact that I can’t even move my arms. I try to pound against the box, but my arms are pinned to my sides. I don’t have the room I need to swing them. The oxygen is becoming thinner with each shallow breath that I take. I try to yell, but my voice ends at the wooden box. No one is going to come and save me. This is my grave. I close my eyes and take a deep breath letting the darkness take me.
It takes me a minute to catch my breath realizing I was having another nightmare. Lately, the nightmares constantly cloud my dreams. Restless nights are becoming the norm, but after this one, there’s no way that I am going to close my eyes again tonight. It takes me a few minutes, but I get myself into my chair and wheel myself into the bathroom. The cold water I splash on my face is refreshing. I glance into the mirror and barely recognize the reflection staring back—dark circles form a ring around my sunken eyes. I have lost a substantial amount of weight, and it is very obvious on my face. I haven’t intentionally lost weight; I just haven’t had much of an appetite. I look old. I need to figure out how to get some rest. I go back in the room to see what time it is. 5:00 A.M. No one else is up yet. A hot steamy bath sounds amazing, but the only bath is in the other bathroom. I make up my mind … I’m taking a bath. I grab my clothes and head down the hall to the other bathroom.
Surprisingly, the soak gifts me with a little energy. I hear commotion in the main room when I wheel around the corner. Heather is busy in the kitchen making breakfast, and Joe is sipping on coffee reading the paper at the table. He looks over the top of his coffee cup, and I see him wink, “Good morning gimpy.” The last few days we have been giving each other new nicknames.
“Hey, chump.”
“Am I going to have to separate you two?” I laugh at my sister and stick my tongue out at Joe. Since I have moved in, we have all grown into a morning ritual. We all sit at the table and enjoy breakfast together before Joe heads off to work, and Heather takes me to my physical therapy. It’s nice to have this time together.
“Can you believe in two days Lexie is graduating?” Time does seem to be going rather quickly. Today is Thursday, and then tomorrow I meet up with the lawyer again, and then … my beautiful daughter is completing a huge milestone in her life and moving on to another. Maybe I should take a few notes from her book.
***
My heart hammers against my chest. A mixture of nerves and excitement, have me on the edge of insanity. I’m more than ecstatic to see Ethan again, and as we get closer to the hospital, my anxiousness grows. I don’t think I was even this nervous at my wedding. I try to calm my hyperventilating by taking long, slow, and very purposeful breaths. Cool your jets Nicole. I can feel the scrutinizing gaze from my sister’s green eyes, but she never does ask what’s wrong, thankfully.
The smell of chlorine fills my nose, as I wait to see if Ethan or Laura will be my therapist today. The anticipation is killing me. Splashing in the pool distracts me, and I turn to look. An older gentleman in the pool, helps a young child swim. I’d guess he’s around ten years old. I don’t notice at first, but the child only has one leg. It breaks my heart to see that someone so young has to endure something so tragic. As I watch, I’m amazed how well he gets around. It doesn’t even faze him that he’s missing something that I would think, vital. Perseverance, that’s all it takes. I remind myself.
A light touch on my shoulder brings a smile to my lips. I know its Ethan. He rounds my chair, and my heart stops. It is absolutely impossible for anyone to be that good looking. I just stare unable to pull my gaze away.
“I missed you,” he says, sending all the mixed feelings I’ve had spiraling out of control.
I don’t want to admit it out loud, but I do, “I missed you too.” I blush and look down at my fingers in my lap. Ethan’s gentle hand cups my chin and lifts my face. His eyes are so filled with compassion and warmth. I feel drawn to him.
“Shall we get started?” I nod yes.
Ethan gets me into the pool, with more hands-on care than I think he uses with his other patients, but who’s complaining. Like Laura, he has me standing, but his body is right up against mine as he helps me make slow steps. The pressure of his body touching mine is dizzying. If he weren’t holding me up, I would fall over. I close my eyes as he uses his leg to push mine forward. We move in unison, as one. I’m tempted to take his hand and glide it between my thighs to ease this tension. Instead, I just squeeze onto his hand tighter. I am in way too deep.
I’m really starting to hate that our sessions are only an hour long. I might have to talk to Dr. Mitchell and see if he can extend that. A nurse I don’t recognize helps me in the dressing room. I check my phone as she pushes me out, and I see the missed call and text from Heather.
Hey got held up at work, can you call for a ride?
I pull my phone up to call Carrie but remember that she is out of town for work. “Crap,” I say not paying attention to anyone around me.
“What’s up?” Ethan’s sexy voice catches me off guard. He’s usually not in the foyer after our sessions
“Oh, nothing. My sister got held up is all, and I was just trying to figure out who I should call for a ride.” I shrug my shoulder like it’s no big deal.
“I ca
n give you a ride.”
“No … no. It’s fine. I’ll call a girlfriend. I’m sure someone will come to pick me up.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t want to hang out here any longer than you have to.” He’s right. I come here every day, and I would rather not sit here waiting for God knows how long for someone to pick me up. Besides, what could be the harm in him giving me a ride home? I doubt he would turn out to be a stalker.
“Nikki, I’m leaving too. It’s not a problem.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” I feel a bit skeptical having a stranger go out of their way for me.
“Of course, I’m sure. It would be my pleasure. If I didn’t want to give you a lift, I would have never offered.” He unlocks the brakes on my wheelchair before I can object and pushes me through the doors.
Seventeen
The vehicle he pushes me to takes me off guard, “a minivan? Aren’t you a bit young to be driving a minivan?” Ethan opens up the passenger door and helps me to a standing position. I am getting more comfortable with standing, but I’m not completely sturdy and it wears me out quickly. He stands right behind me and helps me get into the seat.
“Well, my Hummer and Porshe are both in the shop, so I had to drive this today.”
“Really?” I ask, dumbfounded that he would have two expensive vehicles.
Ethan bursts out laughing and his dimple that I’ve grown fond of appears. “No, not really. I bought this off of my mom real cheap. It runs good and gets me from point A to point B. I don’t need a flashy car.”
His statement takes me aback. Most young guys … well, what I can remember from my high school and college years, were that guys like it supercharged and the more horsepower the better.
“I don’t need to impress anyone. Not while I have all these good looks.” He winks at me, and it’s me laughing now.
“Of course, that will do it for sure.”
Ethan grabs the seatbelt and pulls it over me. “So you think I’m good looking huh?”
My heart quickens at his seductive tone. The belt clicks into place, but he lingers so closely. I swallow hard. “Yes … umm, you’re a very attractive younger gentleman.”
“We’re not that far apart in age you know,” he says, sliding back and out of the door.
He hums his white minivan to life, before turning to look at me. “Do you want to do something before I take you home?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s beautiful outside which is uncanny for this time of year, and I think we should take advantage of it.”
“I … uh, I don’t know.” I stutter.
“Oh come on. It’s good therapy. I know a perfect place.”
I should contest this for so many reasons, but he’s right. It is a beautiful day for May, and who wants to be cooped up inside for the rest of the day? Plus, I don’t think I want Ethan to drop me off yet. I like being around him. “Okay.” I agree.
He pulls up in a parking lot that I know well—the local park. “I thought we could go for a little walk.”
“We? You mean you walk, and I’ll take a nice stroll.” Memories of Carrie and I joking about a nice long spin comes to my mind. His smile is so warm with a perfect amount of mischief behind it. I wonder what he has planned.
The park is not overly crowded, since its eleven o’clock on a Wednesday morning. A few people mill about, enjoying the balmy sixty-five degrees. We weave around the park for a while and then Ethan stops at a grassy area, “your turn.”
I have no clue what he’s talking about.
“Time to stretch your legs.”
“I don’t think I am strong enough for that,” I answer nervously.
Ethan leans so close to my face, “trust me.”
Wheelchair locked, foot rest flipped up to the side, he grabs my hands and helps me stand. The ground is uneven, and I lose my footing. Instinctively, I wrap my arm around his neck to catch myself. He grips his hands around my waist tightly, steadying me. I thought my heart was pounding from fear of falling, but in actuality it’s pounding because of the proximity of Ethan’s body to mine. He shows no indication of loosening his grip. Instead, he reaches for my right arm, lightly grabbing hold of it and then he brings it up and over his other shoulder. Once my arm is in place, he wraps his arm around my waist. Silence falls between us as I stare up into his blue eyes. My body is buzzing. “Ethan,” I whisper.
“Sshh,” and before I can say anything he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. They are perfectly smooth and supple as he moves against me. I can feel his tongue searching for an entrance and my lips respond with a little hesitation. I slowly open to him letting the sensation engulf me as he explores my mouth. No awkward movements—our tongues just dancing together in perfect synchronization. My body attuned to every inch of him; his fingers digging into my back, pulling me into him, his hips pressed into my abdomen. My body is deprived and feels so greedy. I want this.
He pulls away for a split second—just long enough for me to get one gasp of air. Then our lips are sealed again with our hearts pounding against each others chests.
“Damn Nikki, I want you. His words instantly send a surge of warmth moistening my panties. But mo matter how good he makes me feel in this moment, in the back of my mind warning bells are ringing loudly. I still think this might be wrong. There is such a big age difference. What would my kids think?
“Ethan wait.” His face is flushed and laden with confusion.
“What’s wrong?” he breathes heavily.
“We can’t.”
“Why?”
“It seems wrong … I’m your patient.”
He nods in understanding, “I can tell them I can’t work with you and your treatment.” I can see that he thinks there is an easy solution, but that’s the least of my worries. How can I tell him what is really bothering me?
“There’s more isn’t there? Nikki, please tell me … are you married?”
I look down at my ring, kicking myself for not taking it off, “No, yes … but…”
“Nikki, tell me. Please … I have wanted you ever since the very first day I saw you.” Now I’m the one confused. “I saw Laura working with you, and I requested to be your therapist. I wanted to meet you—get to know you.”
“You did what?”
“I needed to meet you.”
This tidbit of information has my brain whirling in circles. I can’t believe he had actually requested to work with me. “But Ethan, I’m so much older than you.”
“Is that what this is about? My age … your age. It’s just a number, Nikki. I’m pretty sure there is something electric here. Don’t push me away because of a little age difference.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Hell no, it doesn’t bother me. You’re unbelievably attractive, and I am sure once I get to know you better, I’ll find out how amazing you are on the inside as well.”
“I have a son almost your age,” I blurt out.
He shakes his head in frustration. “Don’t you understand that I don’t care? I just want to get to know you.”
I feel horrible. I hate seeing the pain in his eyes, and that dimple gone. How can I get over the hang-up of our age gap? Can I let go and just have fun with him or will the constant fact of me being older get in the middle?
“Nikki,” Ethan’s voice is so soft. He raises one of his hands and gently traces the pad of his thumb over my cheek. The gesture makes my body sing. It’s been so long since I have been touched this way. My eyes close and I relish in the feeling. When he stops, I hesitantly open my eyes only to meet his staring down into mine. “Just get to know me. That is all I’m asking for.” There is a mixture of hope and pain in his blue eyes.
Is he really asking that much? All he’s asking for is for me to get to know him. It’s not like he is asking to move in and raise my children with me. I stare deeply into his steel eyes, hypnotized. I wish I could stop time and hold onto this moment. One thing is
for sure; I’ve been under the impression that my future has already passed me by, but right now … I see that it may still be ahead of me. I can’t verbally commit, but I nod my head once, indicating I will try.
Immediately, his lips crash down on mine. This time, there is no uncertainty to let him in. I welcome him, my tongue meeting his just as eagerly as his. Both of us pull desperately at each other—I’m starving for him.
“Damn Nikki!” we both gasp for air, “You’re so beautiful.”
It’s amazing how those three words make me feel. It’s as if I have been hooked up to my own personal helium tank—I’m weightless. I let my hand dip down over his chest and over his abdomen. I’ve never seen him without a shirt on, but I have a good idea how hard his stomach is after seeing his wet shirt clinging to his body. I feel the muscles hiding under his shirt.
“Why would you want me?” I ask it before I can stop myself.
“Why wouldn’t I?” His voice matter-of-fact, as if I am blind and can’t see the beauty he can. “The second I see you …” his face reddens with embarrassment while he shakes his head no—smiling.
“What? Tell me.”
“Every time I see you … I get rock hard.”
“Oh,” now I’m the one blushing. His confession catches me off guard.
“… but besides my body just telling me it wants you—there’s more. I can feel it. There is something underneath. A woman that is strong, independent and I believe in you … us.”
He must see something in me that I’m not seeing or feeling. Me strong and independent, yeah right. It’s more the opposite … weak, broken and tore down. That’s miles away from independent and strong. It’s only been the last couple of days that I have even been able to get to the bathroom on my own.
My leg wobbles, feeling tired, and I almost go down. Ethan’s quick movements keep me upright. “Here, let’s sit you back down. I relax a bit sitting down with a little more space between us. I look up to see him smiling brightly down at me. That dimple is going to be the death of me. “How about I get you home?”