Skin Like Dawn (When You Come to Me)

by Alyse, Jade

  She walked a little closer to them. Something in her belly thumped at her. She flattened her palm against herself, gazing downward, swallowing thickly, imagining a time when it was just her and her own goals, her passion, her future. She closed her eyes slowly, fighting the urge to weep at her own helplessness.

  She could take Zuly up on her offer, but what would that bring her? More strife and struggle in her relationship than she was prepared to deal with? Brandon had made it very clear about what he expected from her - and she was far too weak to even think about fighting back. Storming out and collecting her thoughts was her only defense, really; and she waited for Brandon to come running after her and apologize. Like he always did.

  How sick was that?

  She picked up one book and began leafing through it; a picture wedge in between pages tumbled out. It was an image of her with her sisters, taken by her mother at some point, when they couldn’t have been any older than middle school aged. It was a reminder, really; of why she was doing it in the first place. Sometime long ago, she had fallen in love with the idea of saving her family singlehandedly. Being the hero that her “somewhere estranged and lost” father, Raphael could never measure up to.

  She often thought about him and where it all went wrong, suddenly filled with anger, spilling over the edge of her. She could stop it, of course, but she often wallowed in it, unsure of how she would really feel if she finally let it go. Let her father go. He’d disappeared when she was on ten years old; and with it her resolve to ever trust that men would always come through, no matter the circumstances or strife.

  Even Brandon.

  She now punished her own husband with silent resentment; pulling away emotionally when they made love, refusing to exhibit unscathed vulnerability.

  What the hell would come of it if she did?

  With Brandon due home in an hour or so, she reached for her cell phone and pressed the “talk” button.

  “Hey, you.” Zuly’s voice always sounded so pleasant and reassured. The way she used to be.

  “Hi. Are you free for dinner in a few? Let’s talk.”

  “Of course. That seafood place downtown sound good to you?”

  “Yes. I’m changing my clothes now.”

  “Great. See you soon.”

  ZULY GARZA WAS SITTING BY THE WINDOW, with a frosted mug of beer in her hand. She glanced up and smiled as Natalie approached, immediately putting her at ease. “Well, for someone who just changed their clothes, you look great!”

  Natalie took a seat opposite her. “You didn’t know? I’m in constant, silent competition with you.”

  That wasn’t too much of an exaggeration - Zuly Garza bled with style. From her bobbed, chocolate brown haircut that fell just below her chin, to her carelessly bohemian attire, which looked as though it were plucked from one of those expensive boutiques downtown. She caught the eye of many in her wake, but didn’t seem to notice.

  “Oh, stop it.” She took a sip from her beer. “I’m not one for small talk, so why did you want to see me?”

  “I think you already know.”

  “Natalie Greene, I’m flattered, but I was under the impression that you were married and very much in love with your husband?”

  “What? No.” She waved her hand frantically. She immediately remembered Zuly’s references to her lesbian lifestyle and quickly grew uncomfortable. “I’m never switching to that side.”

  “Well, just let me know if you change your mind. But for the real reason that you wanted to meet with me...?”

  “I’m taking you up on that job offer.”

  Zuly arched an eyebrow. “Are you, now?”

  She nodded. “Yes, please.”

  “And what does your husband have to say about this?”

  “He’s not going to know for awhile.”

  “Come again?”

  “You heard me.”

  “This is not going to interrupt any ‘marital bliss’, is it?”

  Natalie sighed. “I have to do something for me. I can’t keep waiting around all day for my husband to come home, twiddling my thumbs and shit in between. I need something for me.”

  “I respect that. Let me make a few phone calls once I get home and see if we can get an interview set up.”

  “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

  “No worries,” she said with the bounce of her shoulders. “I’m only a first-year resident, but I know a couple of people. Now, we can continue on with dinner.”

  “Yes. I’m starving!”

  WHEN SHE WALKED THROUGH HER FRONT DOOR, Brandon was sitting in the living room, gazing up at her. Immediately tense, she slammed the door behind her, attempting to breathe easily. “Hi,” she murmured.

  He clasped his hands together. “Hello.”

  “Been here long?”

  “I’m not sure. But I see someone turned their phone off, making it nearly impossible for me to get in contact with them.”

  “Were you expecting dinner on the table when you came through the door? I’m sorry, I forgot what role you wanted me to play in this marriage. Should I just go ahead up the steps to our bedroom and lay on my back, legs spread, and wait?”

  He closed his eyes as though to collect himself before speaking. “Christ, Tallie...”

  “I haven’t much fight in me left, Brandon.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I went for a drive.”

  “I wanted to take you to dinner. To apologize.”

  “I’m not hungry. But we don’t have to go anywhere for you to be man enough to apologize.” She folded her arms. “Better yet, explain yourself. Explain to me where this misogynistic, chauvinistic prick came from?”

  “Misogynistic?” He stood to his feet. “Seriously, baby? Is that what you think of me?”

  “I don’t know what to make of you. One minute, you’re the man I married...a man respectful of my need to be a little independent, to carve my own path...the next, you’re this man who I wake up to and don’t even recognize. Who’d rather have me on my back, pinned by the wrists, or on my knees glorifying your dick. Which one are you today, Brandon?”

  “The one who loves you. Who’s always loved you. The one who can’t stand it when you’re mad at him.”

  Damn it. She dropped her arms at her side, sighing. “I wasn’t mad. I was hurt. I’m still hurt.”

  He came nearer to her, placing his hands at her sides, pressing his lips into her forehead. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I just want to take care of you and the baby. And I’m finally in a position where I can. I’m still the same guy who irritated you back in college.”

  She gazed up at him. “Are you?

  He nodded, reaching toward her face and tilting her chin upward. He pressed his lips into hers. “Yes. But people do evolve, baby. And that’s what I’m doing. I’m finally in a place where I feel like I’m evolving. And I want to take my family along with me. You’re my family, baby. And I want to take care of you.”

  She placed her hands at the sides of his face, pulling it toward hers, so that his forehead rested comfortably against her own. “You do. Just by being in my life, I swear.”

  “You just so happen to be a great cook, and I just so happen to like your cooking. Is that a crime?”

  She laughed. “No.”

  “And you enjoy cooking, still, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s all that matters. Maybe I just won’t eat your cooking a couple of nights a week, just so you don’t feel I’m being chauvinistic.”

  “That’s unnecessary, Brandon.” She kissed the side of his face. “Are you hungry?”

  “For food or for you...?”

  “Ha.”

  “Yes, I didn’t eat lunch.”

  “Go sit down. I’ll see what I can rustle up really quickly.”

  She had to admit that no matter her stance on Brandon’s behavior at present, she did love cooking for him. There was something about him waiting in the living room while she put something toget
her, that made her feel special. Every once in awhile he’d saunter into the kitchen behind her, lift the lids of pots and pans and once she’d tell him to get out, he’d kiss the side of her face, chuckle to himself, then quietly exit.

  Spoiling Brandon Greene, seeing him happy, made all of the bullshit between them worthwhile. But she’d never admit it to him.

  SHE BROILED A FILET FOR HIM AND A FEW STEMS OF ASPARAGUS, THEN WATCHED HIM SLEEP A FEW HOURS LATER. She picked at his hair, stroked it every once in awhile, gazing down at him and smiling for no damn reason at all. Every so often, she’d lean down and peck his forehead, closing her eyes, savoring the taste of him, relishing in the innocence of their relationship.

  She decided that she would appease him for now. She knew that no good would come of telling him about her job aspirations, however small or trite, and she didn’t need the headache. She wanted to keep the mere thrill of being in a hospital again to herself for awhile.

  Hell, she was frightened. She wasn’t sure how she would react being in an environment like that again. There was no sense in dragging her husband into it either - she was sure that he had his own issues to deal with.

  Still...it felt good to have something of her own again. So, maybe smiling down at him lovingly was a little deceitful. He trusted her absolutely, didn’t he? What business did she have crushing that image of her?

  THE NEXT MORNING, HE ROLLED HER OVER, MADE LOVE TO HER, got dressed, then kissed her goodbye. She watched his car roll out of their driveway as she stood on the porch, waving admiringly from a distance. In a few hours, he’d give her a call on her lunch break to check on her and how she was feeling, encourage her to take a walk if she felt lightheaded. She’d love the sound of his voice, but wouldn’t allow herself to fall victim to it. She couldn’t afford to be remorseful at present - she had a meeting of her own.

  Not too long after her husband left for work, Zuly Garza called with good news: Head Nurse Wendy Sheffield wanted to schedule an interview with her. Zuly had spoken very highly of Natalie and felt that the interview would go well.

  She would most certainly have to do her best not to tell Brandon anything.

  She got dressed in the best outfit she could find: a black pencil skirt, loose turquoise blouse, and a black cardigan. Standing in the mirror, she smoothed her hands over her belly - nothing showed.

  Befriended by bravery, she arrived twenty minutes early for her meeting. Zuly was waiting by the gift shop in the lobby. Natalie dodged wheelchairs, personnel dressed in scrubs, lab technicians, and everyone in between. The sight and smell of it all excited her way more than she thought possible.

  Anticipating her nerves, Zuly hugged her quickly. “You have enough time to grab a coffee or something before we head upstairs. What do you say?”

  “And be more nervous than I already am? No thanks. Just prep me for Head Nurse Wendy.”

  Her new friend sighed. “Well she’s Director of Nursing. She spends most of her shift in the ER, yelling at the rookie nurses and paramedics till she’s blue in the face. We have a couple of admin openings in the ER and in the pediatric wing. If I know Wendy well, she’ll want you to be able to do both. She’s tough, but she’s got a good heart. She even gives some of us doctors a hard time. But, I think you’re up for the challenge. Tell her up front that you’re pregnant and she may go a little easier on you.”

  “She sounds like my mother.”

  Zuly chuckled, leading Natalie to a set of elevators. “She has a couple of boys at home. Both in high school. So, she’s got her work cut out for her here and at home.”

  They exited the elevator on the third floor in the east wing of the hospital - all pediatrics. The corridors were flanked in orange, red and yellow, with looming cartoon pumpkins, in anticipation for Halloween in the coming weeks. Nurses skipped around on the linoleum in brightly colored scrubs and sneakers, with stethoscopes around their necks, their temperaments far lighter, as though to suggest that nary a sick child existed in their area.

  “As you can see,” Zuly began, taking Natalie’s arm, “This is the pediatric wing. This is one of the best children’s sectors in the state of Oregon. Better yet...the Pacific Northwest.”

  “That’s a lofty claim.”

  “You’re telling me. We do a top notch job here. Lots of pressure from the CEO to be great, of course. But we manage just fine. Keeps the funding from running dry.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Zuly led her into a small conference room at the end of the hall. Natalie imagined the number of families who’d been in these same seats, with the difficult task of discussing the options for their sick child.

  “Have a seat anywhere. I’ll go page Wendy at the nurses’ station. Can I get you anything? Water? Juice? A prayer?”

  Natalie smiled. “A prayer would be nice.”

  “You don’t need it. This is where you belong. Be right back.”

  HEAD NURSE WENDY SHEFFIELD was tall. Really tall. Her bright green scrubs barely reached the tops of her sneakers. With a mess of bushy brain hair piled high on her head, and a face that didn’t care too much for makeup or accessories, she took her seat opposite Natalie once cordialities were out of the way.

  “So, you’re Natalie Chandler.”

  “Natalie Greene, actually. Just got married in August. It’s taking a little while to get everything switched over.”

  “Hmph.” She had a clipboard in her hands, and she now glanced down at it, ruffling through a small stack of papers. “Well, you can start by changing the last name on your resume. I’m sure that’s the easiest. Mazel Tov.”

  Natalie cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

  “I see you’ve worked in a hospital before?”

  “Yes. St. Mary’s in Athens, Georgia. While I was an undergrad there.”

  “And what did you do there?”

  “Whatever the nurses and doctors wanted me to do. I worked in the pediatric wing there, filing records, assisting the families in anyway that I could.”

  “I see. And you worked in the library at UGA?”

  “Yes.”

  “More of the same, I suppose...?”

  “Yes.”

  “Zuly speaks very highly of you and your work.” Hands clasped together, she glared into Natalie. “You do realize if you mess my hospital up, it’ll reflect poorly on your doctor friend and her future, yes?”

  Natalie nodded. “I’m highly intelligent and capable. You won’t get any trouble out of me.”

  That was the truth, actually. She’d never been much of a nuisance. Hell, she was a reflection of Helen Chandler and she was raised to be better than that.

  Lying to her husband probably wasn’t a great start.

  Head Nurse Wendy held the clipboard to her chest. “Why don’t we give you a two-week trial run and see where we are after that?”

  “It’s only fair.”

  “Spectacular.” Her tone was mocking. “When can you start?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  Head Nurse Wendy got to her feet. She nearly touched the ceiling. “Be on this floor, in this wing, no later than eight-thirty. Understood?”

  Natalie stood up, too, extending her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Sheffield. You won’t be disappointed.”

  “I hope not.”

  SHE DROVE HOME FEELING A SENSE OF ACCOMPLISHMENT. And she carried it with her throughout the day; so much so that Brandon was questioning her attitude when he waltzed through the front door a little after six that evening.

  He approached her from behind, grabbing at her waist. “What’s gotten into you?”

  She shook her head like an impish child. “Nothing. Just in a good mood, that’s all.”

  A tad bit of guilt got to her, then. She’d just lied to her husband another time. Eventually they would all catch up to her and she would have to explain herself - but for now, she relished in the idea of having something all to herself.

  “Well, whatever’s making you smile like that, let’s keep it coming
.” He pressed his lips into the side of her face. “Unless it’s another man. I’d have to make a gun purchase very soon.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  That night, they went to bed aside one another, she, in the comforting nook of his shoulder blade. He gazed toward the ceiling, holding onto her head, breathing easily. “Tallie...”

  “Hmm?”

  “You asleep?”

  “No.”

  “I can’t sleep either.”

  “Close your eyes, and start counting those sheep...”

  “Or, we could talk.”

  “Talk?”

  “Yes, remember talking?”

  “Vaguely. I don’t remember much of anything we did before we...you know...”

  “Ha, ha.”

  “I’ll start.” She raised herself up on one elbow and gazed down at him. “How was your day?”

  “Decent. We landed a new account today. I already have the storyboards in my head.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Going to meet with the artist first thing in the morning and see what we can get down on paper. Next, I’ll have a couple of the copywriters brainstorm.”

  “Wow. You really are a creative director.”

  “Crazy, right? Who would’ve thought they’d give a job like that to a fuck up like me?”

  “Brandon, stop it.” She kissed his cheek. “You’re talented and you know it.”

  “I also visited a new art gallery today.”

  “A new one?”

  “Yea, I go to art galleries on my break with a coworker of mine. Helps me gain some inspiration.”

  “And what coworker is this?”