Lux had informed everyone of my desire to have a serious date while I’d been out with Oz the day before. Obviously Oz didn’t get the serious memo. But serious isn’t his style and I loved him just the way he was.
Eli had had today off, so it was decided he would have the next date. And here we were, Eli rowing a boat to the center of the lake, and I perched on the seat with a large hat. We were like a picture from a nineteenth century photo album. I loved it.
I’d even brought a book, so we could just drift around and relax in the sun. All that was missing was my parasol.
Val had packed us a picnic of baguettes and sparkling grape juice and chocolate fudge brownies, and the thought made me hungry for the first time in weeks.
Eli rowed us to a place where the branches of a large willow tree shaded the edges of the lake shore.
“This is bliss,” I sighed leaning back on my hands. My back was beginning to ache, but I didn’t care.
“Come here and sit with me,” Eli said, and I shifted slowly from one bench to the other, sitting between his thighs. “You can rest against me.”
I leaned back into his chest and sighed. I didn’t know how he always knew when I was uncomfortable, but he did and he always had a solution to make it better.
He leaned forward and kissed my hair. “Now, this is bliss.”
We sat in silence for a while, appreciating the sounds of laughter from the shore and the butterflies that seemed to make their home in the middle of Central Park. Everything seemed brighter, better.
We drifted on the water, the slight wind drifting us back toward the middle.
“Is this what courting was like in your day?” I asked, taking a deep inhale of his fresh, clean scent. Eli didn’t wear expensive cologne like Sam, Tolli and Ri. He didn’t smell like sugar cookies like Val or that sexy musk of Lux. Eli smelled like new beginnings. Like soap, and crisp mountain air and maybe a touch of antiseptic.
“Somewhat. Mostly we would take chaperoned strolls through manicured gardens. Or carriage rides, that kind of thing.”
“Did you have a wife?”
Eli shook his head. “No. I was married to my work. I was determined to be the Da Vinci of my age. It didn’t quite work out like that, though.”
I rubbed my stomach. “I guess not. You must have died fairly young.”
“Thirty-six.”
I wanted to ask why he was sent to hell. I was desperate to know. Who wouldn’t? I knew the rest of the guys stories, but Eli kept things closer to his chest.
He gave a chuckle, but there wasn’t a lot of humor in it. “Ask your question, Miss Jones.”
“Why were you sentenced to hell?”
“Because I sold my soul to the Devil to save my home from the plague. Well, the whole county actually. Lucifer was fairly generous with his definition of home.”
I watched a dragonfly land on the water, skimming the top as if gravity did not affect him. “You went to hell for saving people. That hardly seems fair.”
His hands reached down to stroke my stomach. “When it comes to the affairs of Heaven and Hell, things are rarely ever fair.”
I tilted my head back for a kiss, and Eli happily obliged. His lips were firm but there was tenderness there, such caring that it made my eyes water. He pulled back and stared into my soul. “I love you, Arcadia. You will live. I will save you.”
My body felt tired. My mind felt tired. My heart was exhausted. But Eli said it with so much self-assurance that I was almost certain I would. “I know you will.”
We sat in silence again, lost in our own heads. My eyes lulled with the gentle rocking of the boat. My body was more relaxed than it had been in months, even given the uncomfy bench seat. I was safe in Eli’s hands.
“Want to hear the strangest case I ever had as a young physician?”
I nodded. I was desperate to hear anything and everything about this man.
“They brought me a boy they pulled out of the frozen lake, much like this one, in the middle of winter. It was bitterly cold that year. I’d amputated so many toes from frostbite that I could practically do it in my sleep. The kid came in and was blue, the same shade of blue as Sam’s eyes. I placed him on my table, and did my checks. I took one look at him and pronounced him dead. No heartbeat, no breathing noises. The men that had brought the boy to me then went in search of his parents and I went back to staring into my microscope. Two hours later, they still hadn’t found the parents, but the boy sat up and told me he was hungry. I screamed like a maiden who’d seen a mouse. I checked the boy over and other than a bad case of frostbite, he was fine. I, however, learned not to assume anyone was dead until they were warm and dead. I had to convince his parents that he wasn’t a demon, and that it was actually a miracle. It was a tough sell but he went home and grew into a fine young man.”
I giggled at the image of Eli jumping and screaming. And the irony that Eli himself would actually come back as a the reanimated dead from hell made me laugh harder.
We ate our small picnic, and we talked in a way we rarely go the opportunity to talk. We talked about his life before and after he went to hell, and his family. And I told him about my parents, and the hospitals stays and my adventures with Clary while she was in college. This is why I had wanted these dates. I wanted these perfect memories, this closeness, with all of them.
By the time we were rowing our way back to the dock to return the boat, I was warm, relaxed and exhausted.
It took both the boathouse kid and Eli to pull me out of the boat and onto the dock, and I couldn’t even find the energy to be embarrassed. We walked back to the carpark, and I slid into Tolliver’s Jag. He still hadn’t gotten rid of it yet.
He went around the other side and buckled me in. Now it was actually getting a little tough to belt myself in, I’d stopped complaining about it. I rested my head back against the warm leather seats.
“Eli?”
Eli turned over the Jag and she purred to life. I could see why Tolliver was so reluctant to get rid of it.
“Yes, Arcadia?”
“I love you too, you know.”
He put the car back into park and unbelted himself. He leaned over and cupped my cheek, and gave me a whisper light kiss. “I know.”
Chapter Nine
I hugged the toilet bowl as Tolliver sat on the edge of the tub and watched as I lost everything I’d eaten this week. Chemo sucked.
“Can I get you anything?” He asked for the thirtieth time.
“I just want to be alone.” He didn’t move. “Are you deaf? Go,” I yelled, the words harsh to my own ears, but I didn’t have it in me to apologize.
I didn’t even raise my head as he walked out the door, closing it gently behind him. I’d probably hurt his feelings. Fuck. I didn’t want to do that, but I didn’t want anyone to watch my relapse into misery either.
I burst into tears and sobbed in between dry retches. I missed Ace. She was so quiet now. I was lucky to hear from her once a day. I laid on the floor and curled around my belly. And I cried some more.
The door opened, and I saw Clary’s feet come into view. Or maybe Oz had taken to painting his toenails pink.
“Go away.”
“No.”
I looked up at her. “I mean it, Clary. Get the hell out.”
“No. I sat with you through this once, and I will do it again. Now get your whiney big baby butt off the floor. I brought some of those crackers that you could stomach last time.” She was using her nurse voice, and I sat up. I didn’t doubt she would make me if I said no again.
“Let’s wipe you down, and then you can eat. You live in a house full of men. I'm pretty sure not every single one of them aims right. Men are gross.”
She got a washcloth from under the basin and filled the sink with warm soapy water. She wiped my face, my neck and then my hands.
“I don’t know if I can do this again, Clary. It's not the same as last time. I’m weaker.”
Clary scoffed. “You might be physic
ally weaker, but you are mentally stronger. You are a badass bitch with everything to live for. You will fight, and I will be right there in your corner.”
She handed me a cracker and I nibbled it slowly. I was just so scared.
“I'm really glad you are here, Clary. I don’t know if I’ve told you that enough. I’ve been distracted.”
Clary pulled me to my feet and hugged me tight. “There is nowhere else I’d be. Now let’s get you to bed. At least you’ll never be short of bed warmers.”
I gave a half grin. “A lot of good that does me. Hopping into bed with one of them is like walking into a candy store on a diet.”
“Mm, but at least they smell good. Speaking of smelling good, have you met Tolliver's lawyer? The guy looks like sex in an Armani suit. I went to sign my employment contracts for the clinic, and the whole time I had these crazy Fifty Shades fantasies.”
I laughed. She was trying to distract me, and I was more than willing to be distracted. “He couldn’t possibly be hotter in Armani than Tolliver. The guy was literally on the billboard.”
She led me out of the bathroom and straight toward the bedroom. I could see all the guys hanging around my living room, looking worried. I gave them a half-hearted smile and a finger wave. I didn’t have the energy to reassure them.
“I don’t know. He must work out or something, because his ass looked like two melons in a sack.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “You know that isn't an attractive comparison, right?”
I slid between the cool sheets and sighed. My body was exhausted.
“Rest. I’ll get Val to send you in something white and bland later, and I’m not talking about Doc McBuffins.”
“Eli isn’t bland,” I defended weakly and she just laughed as she walked out my bedroom door.
Randomly, it was Valery that Clary got along with best, probably because he was always in the kitchen, and to her Irish family roots, the kitchen was the heart of the home. So I’d often find Val and Clary in the kitchen, discussing the effect of green juices on my white blood counts or something or other.
I wasn't jealous. Okay, maybe a little at first but it soon wore off. I was their only topic of discussion, and Valery would take me in his arms and kiss me any time he got within three feet of my person. Plus, they bickered like siblings. Even now, I could hear them arguing in the kitchen.
“I’m telling you, there is a Italian doctor who swears by kale juice as a tonic for all ills, and counteracts the toxicity of the chemo,” Valery said, his French accent getting thicker as he got riled up.
“Oh sure, because a Italian kook who did a TED talk is much more trustworthy than sound science,” Clary scoffed. I hoped Clary won this battle, because I hated the kale juice.
I dozed off, and when I woke it was to Tolliver and Sam climbing into bed with me, one on either side. I snuggled in between their bodies, and let their warmth chase away the chill of the chemo.
I pressed my lips to Tolliver’s chest.
“I’m sorry I yelled.”
“You never have to say sorry to me, sweet Cady. Go back to sleep,” he kissed my forehead.
Sam rubbed my back. “We’ll be here with you, always.”
I fell back into the blackness of sleep, exhaustion chasing away my dreams.
I walked between the velvet ropes of premium class at the movie theater, my hand wrapped in Valery’s. We entered the restored playhouse, with its ornate ceiling and tiered seating. It was classic movie Tuesday and we were here to watch Casablanca for our date. I didn’t want the chemo to slow me down. I wanted my dates, not only to spend time with the guys, but ensure they were on a path of a redemption that would go on without me.
“You know, when we were spat out of hell, it was the cinema that fascinated me the most. Television too, of course, but there was something magical about watching people moving in front of you, affixed onto film and then played to the world, and sound was somehow woven in as well. It was breathtaking, and it was the first time I’d felt pleasure in hundreds of years.”
His eyes lit up as he spoke, and I could only imagine what it had been like those first couple of weeks after they had been placed here by Luc. Especially for Lux and Sam, who’d had to adjust to a couple of thousand year’s worth of technological advancement and social reformation.
We found our seats, and Valery raised the arm rest between us so I could snuggle in close.
We’d all decided that I would go on one date a week so I didn’t exhaust myself, and if I timed it right, I would be feeling okay after the chemo too. Valery handed me his popcorn, and I took a handful.
The cinema was beautiful, its restoration done perfectly. The heavy midnight blue velvet curtains sat either side of screen, and I could see the intricate gold embroidery along the bottom edge.
Valery slid an arm over my shoulder and I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady thump thump of his heart, which defied nature itself.
He popped a milk dud in my mouth, and I let it melt on my tongue. People were still finding their seats, but the cinema was mostly empty. It was mainly hipsters and couples. The odd lonely soul sitting by themselves in an acoustically correct position.
“What are you going to do after I have the babies and get better and everyone is redeemed? Will you go back to being head chef at Epicurean?” I asked into his chest. He rested his head on my hair.
“Maybe, part time. I’m very fond of my restaurant, but not as fond as I am of you and what will be our little family.” He laughed. “Well, perhaps not so little, not with so many papa’s. They will be well loved bebe’s. I have already begun researching how to make the tastiest, nutritionally dense baby foods. My bebe’s will eat gourmet.”
I smiled up at Valery, his handsome, guileless face holding nothing but love for me. “You really don’t mind that the babies aren’t biologically yours, do you?”
“No, ma chérie. Because they are yours, and you are mine. I will love them like they are mine. They are a miracle, no matter who fathered them.”
The lights went down and the opening notes from Casablanca came up. I’d always loved this movie. Humphrey Bogart being suave as hell, and Ingrid Bergman just had a timeless beauty that made me seriously question my sexuality. When As Time Goes By played, my eyes misted over and stayed that way until the final scene.
Valery turned to me as the credits rolled, and kissed me softly. I kissed him back with an urgency that appeared out of nowhere, inspired by the loss, the time wasted, and the long goodbyes that happened in the movie, but struck a chord in my soul. Valery groaned and slid a hand into my hair. And come away with a chunk.
He pulled back and stared at the blonde strands still wrapped in his fingers, his face horrified. I stared at them too. Then I cried. Again. Fucking hell. Valery got out his handkerchief- who still used those?- and placed my hair in the center, bundling it up and stuffing it into his pocket.
“I am sorry, ma chérie. I should have thought…” He trailed off. I didn’t know who was more traumatized right now. “Would you like to go home?”
I wanted to be tougher, and say I was fine. But I wasn’t and all I wanted to do was go home, have Valery wrap his body around mind and sleep, hoping that I’d wake up tomorrow cured.
My lip quivered, and I pressed it between my teeth. “I’m really tired. We should go home.”
“Oui, my love. I will take you wherever you need to go.”
He stood and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, sheltering me against the world. “Will you sleep with me tonight?” I asked, and my voice was nearly lost in the happy chatter of the foyer.
“Always.”
Chapter Ten
Unlike last time, my hair all fell out almost all at once, in large chunks that were left behind on the pillow every morning. I’d get up, heave myself to the bathroom, and by the time I got back, the offending pillowcase would be gone, and the bed would be made. I was pretty sure Clary had taught someone how to do that speed bed chan
ging that nurses somehow managed. It was almost magic.
I struggled back into bed and onto fresh pillows. The only problem with magically changing linens was that it wiped away the scent of whoever had slept beside me. Luckily for me today, Oz was still there, arms folded behind his head, displaying a very impressive chest. Crossfit had honed him into hard muscle, and I wanted to find the creators of the regime and kiss their feet. The slight dusting of hair trailed down past his navel, and his grin got cocky as he caught me in my blatant perusal.
He waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t let me stop you. I could move the blanket if you want.”
I made a face at him and moved toward the bed, lowering myself down without much finesse and snuggling back into his warmth. Today, I was determined to be my old, happy self. Death be damned. Perhaps literally.
Today the babies were officially 28 weeks. While not ideal, we were in the safety zone. Though little Hope still needed another week or two of baking time. I was going for a 4D ultrasound, and I couldn’t be more excited to see my babies.
But first.
I laid a kiss on Oz’s shoulder, then his jaw, until he turned to kiss me. His hand slid over my ass and up to my swollen breasts. He juggled them in his hands like they were the world's most mesmerizing stress balls.
“Oz.”
“Hmm?” He still hadn't taken his eyes from my breasts.
“Are you going to stare at those all day, or are you going to do something with them?”
He pulled down my tank and kissed one nipple then the other. “Sorry, Cady Lady. We are at DEFCON 3. Nothing that could put undue strain on your heart or bring on early labor.” His eyes went back to my breasts. “Soon, my pretties. Soon.”
The Redeemable Part Three Page 6