by Chris Myers
Susan does, too. The guys slap him on the back.
“You need a bath,” Danny says. “No joke.”
“Thanks. I’ll put it on my To-Do list,” Lennon says.
Currie lies on the bed, not moving, with all kinds of monitors and tubes connected to her. She doesn’t seem any better.
Clive strides past Jonathan. “Got any crack for us, John?”
“It’s Jonathan,” he says.
Lennon actually smiles at this. They’re both sick.
I study Jonathan. It’s obvious where Lennon got his good looks from, his mom. Jonathan is a very worn-out version of Lennon. The hard lines of partying line his face. It’s hard to believe he’s in his early forties because he looks sixty. What does Denage see in him? Dollar signs?
Clive sits down near the bottom of the bed. He grabs Currie’s toes through the sheet. “Come back to us, little blossom. We miss you. Zoe really misses you. I saw her yesterday. I brought over pizza, and we watched a movie. Wasn’t the same without you.”
Susan sits in Danny’s lap because there aren’t enough chairs while I stand.
Lennon gets up. “Do you want to sit?” he asks me.
“Not really.” It’s hard to see Currie in that hospital bed. “How’s she doing?”
“Currie’s not getting any worse, but they’re not seeing the decline in the virus like they should.” Lennon smoothes back her hair. “Your mom called me.”
Lennon answers her calls but not mine.
“Why did she?” I ask with hesitation.
Lennon nods to the door. He walks hunched over, his normal energy drained from his step.
I ease out of the room with him. He’s wasting away like Currie. “What did my mom want with you?”
“To know what happened. I told her everything. I figured that was okay because she’ll hear it at the trial if it gets that far.”
“She hasn’t asked me to come home.”
“She will. She’s still in shock after finding out her husband is a child molester. Apparently, he has a record.”
“Great, so she should’ve called me to apologize.” Mom doesn’t want me back. We share too much pain with Dad’s death.
Lennon touches my shoulder. “She will. I told her that you were chillin’ at Rena’s.”
“Oh?” I say, staring at my sneakers instead of his handsome face. “I brought your homework.”
“Those are all mine? You didn’t throw out my Playboys or condoms in my locker, did you?” He gives me a wicked grin, which for once, I don’t mind.
“No. I didn’t see any. If I had, I would have.”
Lennon bumps my shoulder. “But you were going through my things.”
I want him to touch me again. It warms me when we connect. “Yeah, with the counselor looking over my shoulder.”
“You know, I can’t possibly do homework. I can barely think right now.”
“Currie would want you to. We’re going to graduate in another few months. You don’t want to make it up during the summer.”
“I’ll try to get some done.” Lennon stands up straight. “It’ll keep my mind occupied.”
His hand glides down my back. “Thanks for coming. It’s good to see you and the guys.”
Sparks burrow into me from his hand pressed against my spine. It makes me feel alive. I wasn’t expecting that.
We go back in and sit in silence for a few hours until Clive offers to buy us dinner from the hospital. I refuse. I’ve eaten enough hospital food to last me a lifetime, though when Lennon took me, it was somehow different.
After they eat, Clive says, “We’re going back. Can we get you anything?” His hand lands on Lennon’s shoulder.
Lennon shakes his head. “Thanks for coming. I’m okay.”
“I think I’m going to stay.” I worry how Lennon and his family will react to this. “I brought my schoolwork.”
Lennon smiles. “Are you sure?”
I nod, not feeling really confident about this.
“You can use Lennon’s room in our suite,” Jonathan says. “He’s not using it.”
“Thanks,” I say. That solves one problem.
Susan walks over to me and whispers, “Are you sure about this?”
My leg starts shaking involuntarily. “Not really.”
“Stronger women than you have succumbed to the seductive powers of Lennon Tyler,” she jokes.
“It’s just that. He helped me out…with my stepdad and all. I can’t leave him alone with them.”
Susan glances around at Lennon’s family. “You’ve got a point. I don’t blame you for wanting to help.”
“I thought you didn’t like Lennon.”
“I would never date him, but if Danny and I have kids, and that’s a long way off, we’ll ask Lennon to be the godfather of our firstborn. He’s great with Currie and Zoe.”
And all this time, I thought they hated each other.
“Call me if you want to talk or anything. If you go for the infamous you-know-what, make sure he’s wearing a body glove.” Susan makes a face and shivers.
Clive gets up to leave. “Jinx, if you need a ride back this weekend, knock me up.”
I guess that’s British for call him. “I will.”
Danny pats my back on the way out. “Call Susan or me if you need us.”
“Yes, do that.” Susan gives me a hug and whispers, “Good luck with the Addams Family.”
I chuckle but try to hide it with a cough. They head out, and I’m left with the awkward silence until the doctor comes by.
“Currie’s not showing any more rabies symptoms. We’re going to take her out of the coma tomorrow afternoon.”
“I thought she still had the virus,” Lennon says.
“Her counts are down today. It’s just hard to say how far the virus progressed because when Currie came to us, she wasn’t exhibiting many symptoms like our other patients.”
“She’s going to be all right?” Lennon asks.
Yeager pats Lennon’s back in a fatherly way. “We’re doing our best for her, but I think she’ll be fine.”
The relief that washes over Lennon fills me with happiness. I’m not sure what would happen to Lennon if she didn’t make it. Lennon picks me up and twirls me around, knocking off an empty cup on the rollaway tray.
A really pretty nurse walks into the room. She sees us. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“No.” Lennon gives her that famous grin all the girls love at school. It’s beginning to seep under my skin as well.
“We were wondering if it would be too much trouble for you and your father to give the children a little concert tomorrow morning,” the nurse says. “Some of them are really sick, and it would lift their spirits.”
I can see “No” on Lennon’s lips, but his dad stands up. “We’d love to. What time?”
“Is nine too early?” the nurse asks. “We could bring many of them to the lobby in the cancer ward.”
“That would be fine,” Jonathan says.
I wonder what they’ll play. I’m sure Lennon knows all his dad’s songs, but will they play those or some from Indigo Blues?
“In that case,” I say to Lennon, “you need sleep, food, and you really need a bath. I’m surprised Currie hasn’t woken up from the stench.”
Lennon leans his elbow on my shoulder. “Are you offering to wash me by hand? If so, I’m ready to go now.”
I scowl at him. “Don’t be like your dad,” I say in a low voice.
“You certainly know how to kick a guy in the balls,” Lennon whispers in my ear.
His breath tickles my neck, and I don’t want him to stop.
Lennon stares at Currie. “I promised her I wouldn’t leave.”
“You go,” Denage says. “We’ll stay here tonight.”
“Trust me,” I say. “Currie would want you to have a bath.”
Lennon gives me a wicked smile, which makes me a little nervous. “I’m looking forward to that.”
CHA
PTER TWENTY-NINE
JINX
When we get to the hotel, Lennon kicks off his shoes and socks, shucks his shirt and jeans.
“That’s where you’re stopping, right?” I ask, thinking that I possibly made a mistake coming up here and staying. I’ve never tested out my theory, but I believe Lennon would respect me saying no.
“This is okay, isn’t it?” Lennon stands in the middle of the living area in boxers. They’re striped with little pink hearts. If he didn’t make me so nervous, I’d think they were cute. He’s lost weight but otherwise, has a solid, lean build.
His hand goes under the boxers’ elastic band. “Unless you’d rather I went au natural.”
His ribs are showing, which makes me want to fatten him up. “That’s fine right there. Aren’t you going to eat?”
He shakes his head. “I’m exhausted. I’ll order a big breakfast.” He scans both bedrooms, chooses one, pulls back the covers, and crash lands on the bed. “You go ahead with dinner. If you need money for a tip, take it out of my wallet.”
Not me, I’m not tired at all. I’m starving though, and Jonathan said to order room service on him. I glance at the menu. This is a five-star hotel with two restaurants. I order filet mignon, medium rare, with a baked potato and everything on it, a salad, and a pricey bottle of wine. So this is what it’s like to be rich. Now that I’m homeless, this may be my only chance to live the highlife.
Room service arrives and opens my bottle of merlot, lets me sniff the wine, like I know what I’m doing, and offers me my napkin, then he waits. Oh yeah, tip. I scrounge through Lennon’s jeans, which are on the floor in the living room. I shuffle through his wallet unsure how much to give the guy. The meal was sixty with the wine. That’s twelve bucks, I think. I hand him that. He seems satisfied and leaves.
Lennon’s wallet is still open in my hands. It’s rude to snoop, but he’ll never know. He has mixed bills, including a couple Ben Franklins, a platinum Visa, his license, and a triple “A” card.
A recent school picture of Currie and Zoe peeks through the plastic window and another picture of Lennon holding Currie when she was an infant is stuffed behind the other one. He must be eight or nine. His face looks so much younger, sweet and innocent. No photos of Mom or Dad. There’s a stack of Lifestyles condoms crammed inside, extra-large. He’s prepared for anything.
I don’t find any little black book filled with girls’ numbers, so I take out his Galaxy. It’s not locked. I shuffle through his contacts. Currie, Zoe, Yellow Taxi, the Nowaks, Rena, the boys, my number, which makes me grin, and the Humane Society. I let out a laugh at the last one.
Lennon really doesn’t have a girlfriend or any girl he considers close, not even Bailey. His two faves are his sister and Zoe. Everyone needs someone. There’s no doubt that Currie will grow up and go off on her own. She’s already a free thinker and bossy.
After putting everything back, I dig into the meal. It’s so good I let the juice from the filet run down my chin before wiping it away. I feel like a princess in her castle, like the bride Katie Winthrop without the litter of male suitors.
When I’m finished, I pick up Lennon’s clothes, neatly fold them, and put them in his room. He’s out cold. I pull the sheet over him. He’s so long his feet hang off the bed. Oil sheens his longish, thick hair, very Johnny Deppish.
I check out the rest of the suite. Two big bedrooms, a bar, a living area and two bathrooms, one of which has a Jacuzzi tub. I’m so there. After soaking myself into a raisin, I brush my teeth and put on pajamas. Fuzzy Happy Bunny bottoms with a matching pink tank. Definitely not the camisole Gabby bought for my birthday.
The beds are made where Jonathan and his girlfriend sleep. Denage’s luggage is flapped open. On top of her clothes are a few photos. I pull them out. I may as well go all the way. The top photo shows Currie, Jonathan, and Denage in front of the Cinderella castle at Disney Land. The rest contain all three of them at parks, museums, restaurants, traveling to San Francisco.
Not the Jonathan that Clive and Lennon describe, but a sober middle-aged man having fun with his daughter.
I can never forgive Step-monster for what he’s done to me, so I’d understand if Lennon can’t either. I shouldn’t have judged Lennon and told him what to do. Though it makes me sad, how hard Jonathan tries to be a parent. Maybe Lennon should loosen up a little, though addicts often repeat their own history. It’s a hard choice for him to make.
Currie probably doesn’t remember the bad things because she’s nine. It seems unfair to her not to spend more time with Jonathan when Heather has little interest in her. I don’t remember seeing any photos of Heather and her at the house, only ones of Lennon and Currie. They travel and do a lot together. It’s obvious from the pictures on their end tables and walls.
I glance around at Jonathan’s and Denage’s bedroom. It’s too creepy to sleep in their room. I pad into Lennon’s. He’s dead to the world, so I crawl into the bed.
It’s ice cold. At least my side is. I know I shouldn’t, but I slide next to the bear snoring beside me. It’s like sleeping next to the sun he’s so warm.
CHAPTER THIRTY
LENNON
When I wake, Jinx is curled into me so that we’re spooning. It’s quite a pleasant surprise. My good morning hard-on pokes her little butt. The scent of her hair in my face and her soft skin brushing against mine unglues me. The cute snuffling sound she makes as she burrows her face into the pillow makes me chuckle.
I would so love to wake her up and have sex, but instead, I sigh and get out of bed. Why I’m behaving myself with a hot chick in my bed I have no clue. She joined me, but I’m guessing Jinx probably didn’t want to sleep in Jonathan’s bed in case they decided to return in the middle of the night. I also can’t do it because of what her stepfather did to her. No girl should have to put up with that. I dread the day Currie goes on her first date. Good thing I own a gun.
When I step into the shower, I’m fully aware of how bad I stink. I’m surprised Heather didn’t say anything. My hair could trap insects it’s so sticky with grease.
After a shower and shave, I feel almost human again. It’s six-thirty, plenty of time for our big debut as father and son. I’m not looking forward to that at all, but the concert’s for the kids, and Currie would want me to do that.
I order everything on the menu because my stomach growls so loud it could wake the dead. Jinx is still sleeping. She looks peaceful and cute. When her head moves, the mass of copper tendrils sweep onto her pink cheeks.
I know I shouldn’t, but I bend down and give her a long, sweet kiss. Her lashes flutter open. The good news is her first reaction isn’t to slap me silly or push me away.
She rubs the sleep from her eyes. “What was that for?”
“For being my friend. It was nice of you guys to come up after I didn’t return your calls. It was even nicer that you stayed.” I’m beginning to like having her around.
Jinx stretches her slender arms above her head. “Clive’s your friend, and I’ve never seen you kiss him. You must give him tongue behind my back.”
I grin at that. “He does look good without a shirt. Kissing him isn’t near as sweet as kissing you,” I tease.
A smile filled with warmth spreads across her face. I can’t believe it’s for me.
“Now I know why all the girls say you’re such a good kisser,” Jinx says.
Using one hand, she draws me closer to her. Her lips brush against mine. She’s kissing me. She must still be half asleep.
“Glad to know I live up to my reputation.” My hand reaches behind her neck to dig my fingers into her soft hair. She doesn’t flinch and presses against my caress. I’m so into her right now, and amazingly enough, she’s into me.
Her eyes glitter from sleep and the sun peeking into the bedroom through the partially opened drapes. “You cleaned up,” she says. “You smell a lot better.”
“I’m going to the hospital. You can sleep in if you want.”
�
�No. I want to go. I’m just cold.”
I slowly ease my way into bed next to her, half expecting to receive a pushback. Instead, she nuzzles against me. It’s a good thing my dick is corralled in my pants because he’s feeling rather cheerful.
“God, you’re warm,” she says, trembling. She could be cold or it’s the aftershock of her stepfather. Either way, I’m gentle and slow with her.
I wrap my arms around her. It feels good to hold her next to me. “I’m good for something.”
She rolls over to face me, one hand caressing my waist. “We’re not going to…”
“No. You’re not ready.”
“Thanks.” Jinx’s mint green eyes peer into mine. She presses her mouth against my lips. Her teeth nibble on my lower lip before her tongue encourages my mouth to open. Her tongue then explores my lips and teeth as she kisses me more deeply.
“What’s that for?” I ask, using her words, not wanting her to stop.
“I may actually like you.”
I grin. “That’s a shock.”
“It is.” Both of her hands cradle my neck. “Your dad’s trying really hard. What’s up with that?”
I shrug. “He didn’t for eighteen years, at least with me.”
She presses closer to me so that the length of her body touches mine. “It couldn’t be all that bad. He must’ve given you music lessons. You’re incredible. How old were you when you started?”
It’s hard to focus on talking when all I want to do is hold and kiss her. “Five, when I first took piano.” It was one of the few things Jonathan and I did together. “We both had lessons twice a week. And then voice when I was eight.”
Jinx rolls over so that we’re spooning again and my right arm secures her against me.
While my chest is against Jinx’s back, I bury my nose in her hair and inhale before coming back up for air. “All our music teachers came to the house because sometimes, Jonathan was too wasted to take his lessons, but I never missed them. He made sure of that.”