by Robin Cain
“Leave him for you?” Her tone sounded more incredulous than she had intended.
“Well, yes, but mostly I just wanted her to be happier. I don’t know if something would have come of us. I’d like to think it would have, but I don’t know. I just hated seeing her so unhappy. She deserved more. She had a big heart and he was totally taking advantage of it.”
“Where was he when you guys were fucking around? Didn’t he ever find out?”
“First of all, we weren’t ‘fucking around.’”
“Sorry. Where was he?”
“He was never around. Out of state, out of the country, working. Sadie came up here to get away from some other issue in her life, as I said, and he just never followed. I guess she slowly got the sense that it didn’t matter to him whether she was around or not.”
“Didn’t she have a job?”
“She’d taken a sort of leave of absence, I guess. She came up here to work on some house project he had planned.”
“You don’t like him much, do you?”
“I never met the guy, but everything I’ve heard seemed to me he had his priorities fucked up. I hate what he did to Sadie. And I really fucking hate what he did to us.”
“What do you mean? What did he do to you?” Sam assumed there was something more to this story.
“Once he had the accident, Sadie could never leave him. I lost.”
“Where is she now?” Sam hoped he would tell her she had moved away, far out of his world.
“Back in L.A. with him. She’s been here once since, but it’s to the point where I just can’t talk to her or see her anymore. It hurts too much. Wanting something so bad and realizing one day that nothing you do is going to get you any closer to having it. Well, it was killing me and I had to walk away. I just couldn’t say goodbye one more time,” he explained, his voice cracking on the last words.
“So you never hear from her? That’s it? Done?”
“She’s called a couple times since, but I can’t talk to her.”
“Ouch.”
“What good would it do? It was killing me.”
“Wow, you really cared for this chick.”
“Yes, and I will never understand why she made the choices she made.”
“Maybe she didn’t love you like you thought? Maybe... maybe she couldn’t handle your past?” Sam regretted her choice of words the minute she saw the look on Tyler’s face. He glared at her and took a deep slow breath.
“Guess we will never know, will we?” he said, slamming the bag of cookies down on the ground. The anger and hurt in his voice was palpable.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were so touchy about her... geez!”
“Just forget it. I told you it was complicated.” He immediately started gathering up their lunch stuff.
“I said I was sorry, Tyler. I just meant that, if she loved you like you say she did, well, wouldn’t she be with you right now?”
“Yeah, Sam, you know everything. Just forget it.” He stood up and started loading the cooler.
“No, I don’t know everything. Don’t be such a prick. You say you didn’t really date, but you love her and she’s married and she’s not with you. What else is a person to think?”
“Sadie and I... oh, just forget it. Think what you want. I’m used to it.”
Sam could tell this wasn’t going anywhere and Tyler had now shut down. She helped him clean up and get their stuff back onto the ATV. The date was obviously over.
After they got the four-wheeler loaded back in the truck, they rode back to Tyler’s house in silence. Sam tried to start a conversation a couple times but eventually gave up when he just continued to grunt in response. She felt bad, but she still didn’t understand why he was so mad at her. What was he doing with a married woman anyway? And one so much older? Didn’t he realize he had probably just been a boy-toy? He just wasn’t being rational.
When they reached his house an hour later, Tyler made himself busy putting things away and cleaning up the four-wheeler. Sam took the lunch leftovers into the kitchen, trying to be helpful and buy some time until he was ready to talk. She didn’t want to just leave and have things remain so ugly between them, but she was pretty annoyed with how he was acting. He was being such a baby. After awhile, he came into the kitchen to get something to drink, obviously still trying to ignore her.
“Are you ever going to talk to me?”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I want to apologize again for what I said. I also want to try and understand where we are at on this.”
“No worries. We’re fine.” Tyler continued to pour soda into a glass.
“Come on. I can tell you’re pissed.” She reached out for his arm as he tried to walk past her. The anger and hurt that lingered in his eyes was visible. “I said I was sorry. What else can I say? You loved her. She loved you. It’s over. Move on.”
“Easier said than done,” he snapped at her. “Besides, what makes you the expert on love?”
“Nothing, but based on what you told me, it doesn’t sound like there’s any happy ending waiting anywhere in the wings.”
“Thanks, Sam. I fucking appreciate your empathy.” His tone caused her anger to now get the best of her as well.
“Tyler, some old lady gets the hots for you, strings you along, stays with her crippled husband—and here you are trying to tell me that you love each other? Why didn’t you fight for her? Why were you willing to walk away if it was so fucking perfect and special?”
Tyler’s fist immediately clenched but he stopped himself short.
“You don’t know what the fuck you are talking about! First, nobody strung anybody along. There wasn’t a cruel bone in her body and what we had was something that could never be duplicated. And I did fight for her. Goddamn it, I did fight!” His rage and pent-up frustration came bubbling to the surface. “God damn you and God damn her,” he shouted. He threw his glass across the kitchen with all the strength he had in him. It shattered into a million pieces, causing sticky soda to spray all over the walls and floor.
Shocked by his violent eruption, Sam reached out without thinking and grabbed a hold of his arm. Putting her arms around him, she held him tightly, trying to get him to calm down.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m sorry.”
Tyler stood there stiffly, fuming with rage and trying to talk himself out of doing anything else stupid. As tears flowed down his cheeks, he was wracked by the sobs building in his chest. He slowly collapsed in her arms.
Sam leaned against the counter and held him without speaking, letting him just release everything he was holding inside. Unable to have predicted this, she wasn’t prepared. But it sure explained a lot of what had been going on between them the last few weeks.
And I thought I had problems....
When Tyler’s tears began to subside, Sam pulled back and looked at him. His eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, were filled with so much pain and sadness that she felt envy for the woman capable of creating so much feeling.
Sam leaned in and softly kissed away a single tear on Tyler’s face. She hesitated only slightly, and then filled his face with small, gentle, sensuous kisses, carefully working her way toward his mouth. When she eventually put her mouth to his own, she felt his lips move ever so slightly in response. She kissed one lip and then the other, softly biting his lip and teasing him with her tongue. “Tyler, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered.
When she heard him sigh, she moved her tongue, slowly and seductively trying to entice him to open his. She felt the resistance in his posture gradually slacken. She moved her hands down his back, grabbing his butt, hard and tight in his jeans and gently squeezed, pulling him against her. There was a hardening bulge in his pants and the beat of her heart quickened.
When Tyler slowly gave in to the urge growing inside of him, he allowed his hands to slide down her back, finding the firm round stack of her butt. As he pulled Sam in tighter, he hungrily
explored her mouth. The urgency of the moment gathered speed as he slid his hand between her legs and grabbed a handful of her flesh wrapped in its tight jeans. His appetite too great, his control now gone, he realized he must touch and taste every bit of this girl.
Possessed with this need to take her, he pulled up her shirt and covered her young breast with his mouth, pulling on her nipple with his teeth. He clumsily yanked at her jeans, trying to get them pulled down. He ripped her panties when she resisted and paused just long enough to turn her around and bend her over the counter. Widening his stance and grabbing her by the waist for balance, he rammed his now throbbing hard-on between her legs and hoped her warm and wet young flesh would be everything he needed. In an explosion of rage and lust, he pounded himself deep into her. Just as he cried out like a hungry wolf, he felt the hot surge of his seed as it raced to freedom.
eighteen
A WEEK AFTER Frank’s accident, he was transferred to a rehabilitation facility where he was made to endure grueling weeks of physical therapy, as well as hours of emotional therapy to conquer the trauma that accompanies paralysis. His journey to some form of normalcy was extensive and arduous. He worked long and hard to make a one-hundred-percent recovery but, despite his best efforts, the damage done was for the most part permanent. Though he had regained some feeling and muscle strength, his broken leg and the nerve damage to his spine had left him unable to walk unassisted. Though hopeful that continued physical therapy would bring further improvement, Frank’s doctors could give no promises or guarantees. Barring some future medical miracle, he would be dependent on a wheelchair for any forward movement beyond a few labored and supported steps.
While Frank endured the weeks of intensive therapy, Sadie concentrated on having their house converted to accommodate his wheelchair. Installing ramps was easier for her than trying to find ways to mend her broken heart.
Sadie never found the courage to question Frank’s explanation of the night of the accident. He’d simply said he had been driving Citra to the airport after a meeting they’d had. The why and how of it all were questions, falling short of ever being spoken out loud and lost in the urgency of Frank’s injuries and the struggle of his recovery. They never discussed the feelings that had carried them to this place. It seemed both of them simply wanted to go forward and, besides, Sadie found she no longer cared about the truth. She knew full well that Citra and Frank had never parted ways. And, no longer being a stranger to impropriety herself, she had neither reason nor desire to seek answers. Acquiescence seemed to be the price they were both willing to pay to move forward.
This accident had been a horrific tipping point. Sadie’s guilt, combined with the heartache of Frank’s circumstances, slowly sedated her psyche, persuading her that her place was by Frank’s side. Though she had managed to return to Sullivan once after the accident and had seen Tyler, their meeting had been a heart-wrenching experience for both. The unbearable pain of their goodbye took a serious toll on each of them. Tyler battled the demons of his own desire, wanting her desperately while still trying to respect her sense of duty. Unable to comprehend why Sadie was willing to give up the rest of her life for Frank and, more importantly, how she could walk away from the love they shared, Tyler had turned bitter.
In Sadie’s loneliest moments, which came often these days, she wasn’t sure if she could comprehend the reasons for her staying either. Tyler had given her something no man ever had before. Sounding so clichéd and ridiculous, it would be impossible for another to rationalize or understand, but she did. And, as long as she lived, she would hold his gift inside of her. Unable to keep her part of their promise, Sadie expected that regret would linger all the days of her life.
Now it was October and Frank was coming home. It would be the real test for all they had learned and believed they could ultimately survive. Sadie had wanted to go to the rehab hospital and bring him home herself, but Frank had insisted on having his new personal attendant do it. “We all need to get used to this process,” he had told Sadie, and she had conceded. After all, she didn’t know what he was going through.
This had been one of the biggest hurdles in their counseling sessions. Sadie was always trying to do things for Frank. What she considered helpful, he viewed as conciliatory—a crutch he didn’t want or need. He preferred to remain as independent as possible and he definitely did not want his wife to become his nursemaid. Sadie believed she could take care of him, but he had been insistent. They had agreed to hire a personal attendant to assist with the new medical and physical limitations associated with his handicap. Allowing Frank to come home on his own terms was the first step in transitioning into this new life together.
The employment of the personal attendant had come about somewhat circuitously. While Frank was in rehab, Sadie had received a call from his assistant, Janie, saying she had a friend who needed a job. Her name was Vivian Dean and she was a home health-care aide. Sadie resented the way Janie was always trying to butt into their private affairs. Being Frank’s assistant was one thing, but Sadie thought taking charge of his personal life was another. Frank trusted Janie, though, and convinced Sadie it was as good a place to start as any.
Vivian Dean was in her mid-thirties, unmarried with no children and, according to Janie, had recently become unemployed due to the unexpected death of a patient in her long-term care. Janie vouched for Vivian’s references, saying Vivian had once worked through an agency in the area and assuring them that Vivian represented an excellent solution. Both Sadie and Frank interviewed her several times, together and separately, and where Sadie found her somewhat evasive and a little quirky, Frank found her to be professional and capable. Sadie had reservations about a female assistant anyway, but she also sensed a façade she couldn’t quite put into words.
Frank had issues with the idea of a male assistant, so that took precedence in the decision making. Frank deferred to Janie so he and Sadie never even interviewed other candidates. Without a great deal of time to devote to the process and knowing that she’d always be on hand if something went awry, Sadie conceded that this was just the way it had to be. She was certain that once Frank got home and settled, they’d discover that an aide was no longer necessary. But she agreed to have Vivian start a week before Frank was released from the hospital.
It wasn’t until late morning when, through the window over the kitchen sink, Sadie saw the van pull into the driveway and Frank sitting in the passenger seat. Sadie felt the sharp end of sorrow pierce her heart, knowing how he hated not being in control. She took a deep breath and steeled her sorrow to cheerfully welcome them home. She walked out to the van just as Vivian shut off the engine. Frank turned his head and warmly smiled.
“Welcome home,” Sadie offered through the open window, reaching out for the door handle just as he opened it.
“Thank you. It’s good to finally be here.”
Sadie leaned into the space between them and kissed Frank briefly on the cheek. The noise and movement of the automatic van door opening startled them both.
“Hi Vivian,” Sadie said as she stepped back. “Everything go okay?”
“Oh yes. Everything was fine, though I believe our patient is a little worn out now.”
Our patient? Sadie didn’t like her choice of words. She exchanged wary glances with Frank. Having this third person around was going to take some getting used to.
Vivian quickly and effortlessly pulled the wheelchair out of the side of the van and unfolded it. Wheeling it around to Frank’s side, she briskly moved into the space between Sadie and the car, positioned the chair parallel to his seat and set its brakes. Sadie stepped off to one side, forced to remain an observer for now.
Frank unfastened his lap and shoulder restraint and pushed a button on the dashboard to automatically move his seat back and rotate it outward. This custom conversion had been the creation of one of his employees. It would work better once Frank got his leg cast off but, for now, the space transition allowed him to get his
legs out and set the foot of his good leg on the ground. Using the installed side rails and wheelchair arms for support, he was able to pivot his body and lower himself into the seat. The daily physical therapy he had endured had built up his upper-body strength and balance. Though he had only slight control of his legs, he knew they would support his body weight for short periods of time as long as he was centered and had support from the sides. He worked long and hard on this accomplishment, not wanting to ever be an invalid.
He successfully managed to pivot into the wheelchair Vivian had positioned for him, using strength he wasn’t completely convinced was available to him at the moment,
“Well done!” Sadie exclaimed. She quickly wiped away the tear that had fallen down her cheek.
“He’s a trooper, my Frank,” Vivian added, as she bent down to adjust the foot pedals for him.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
Sadie detected Frank’s false note of cheeriness, as well as the exhaustion and emotion he was trying to conceal. Vivian began chattering immediately.
“Oh, Frank is so good at all of this, like a real pro. You should have seen him at the hospital. He couldn’t wait to get out of there. All the therapists had a little party for him. Balloons, cake. It was quite the little send-off.”
Vivian continued to fill the awkwardness with her incessant chatter about the hospital and their ride home. Sadie was now grateful for the distraction, having been worried about Frank’s homecoming. Vivian’s taking charge was proving to be a godsend.
“Nice flowers. They give this thing a nice look,” Frank interjected, referring to the long concrete ramp that had been added to the house and he was seeing for the first time. Though it was late in the season, Sadie had also instructed the gardener to plant copious amounts of flowers and vegetation. The flowers wouldn’t last long, but she was attempting to disguise the ramp’s austere appearance. This resulted in softened edges and a sort of garden park-like setting.