The dark red blotch on my side had turned an ugly purple. “I’m fine.” It hurt when I pressed my fingers on it, but not as bad as it did when I crawled up the steps.
“Okay, if you’re sure you’re all right, I’m going to go home.”
“I’m sure.”
“I won’t be here tomorrow. I’m supposed to go back to the museum and help with that charity event, since Julia isn’t here.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Charity event.”
“So you may have to call the doctor yourself if you can’t get me.”
“I will.” My bladder clenched, and I took several wobbly steps in the direction of the bathroom.
“Paris?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Alice. It’s okay. I promise. Go to the event. I’ll be fine.” I stepped over the trail of clothes I’d left on the floor and stumbled into the bathroom. I barely made it. To stay upright, I had to prop my shoulder against the wall.
I left my boxer briefs in front of the toilet and turned on the shower. Even though I made sure to dial down the pressure, the water stung like a blast of superheated needles. I forced myself to stay there until the worst of it eased enough for me to wash.
The aches and stiffness flowed away with the water, and when I finished in the shower, I was able to take care of the basics. By the time I was done brushing and shaving, I was too tired to bother with getting dressed, and put on a robe. Besides, coffee was more important than clothing.
While the coffee percolated, I dug through the containers on the counter looking for the bread. Toast would be safe to eat. I hoped.
“Damn it, Alice. Where did you hide it?”
There was a wooden box on the other side of the kitchen near the stove. It didn’t match any of the appliances. The word ‘bread’ had been carved into the front.
How the hell had I missed that?
It could have been new. Knowing Alice, she probably changed out the food containers on a weekly basis. I stuffed two pieces into the toaster and ate a third slice out of the bag, then went on a search for the aspirin.
There was a half full bottle in the cabinet on the condiment wheel. I kept it there so when I woke up in my studio with a hangover I didn’t have to make it all the way to my bedroom to get it. Sometimes Alice would move it. Thank God she hadn’t.
I poured a few in my hand. Was two enough? Was six too many? I took four and washed them down with water from the tap.
The toast popped up. It barely had a chance to cool before I crammed a piece in my mouth. I was still chewing when the coffee finished. It was going to take it forever to cool, and I needed to wash down the crusty lump of dough stuck to the roof of my mouth. I got an ice cube from the dispenser and dropped it in my cup.
The intercom in the living room beeped. I drank my coffee. It beeped again. I went over to the elevator and pushed the talk button. “Who is it?”
“Paris?” Roy’s voice was even strong over the tinny speaker.
“Yeah?”
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.”
“Will you let me come up?”
I laid my forehead against the wall. “Now’s not exactly a good time.”
“I called you last night on the way home to make sure you got in okay. You didn’t answer. You didn’t answer this morning either.”
“I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound like you are.”
“I’m just…” I sighed.
“Please let me come up.”
I punched the send button. “Elevator’s on the way down. Top floor.” Julia was on the first floor, Alice had the third. Or maybe it was the fourth? I made my way back into the kitchen to drink the rest of my coffee.
The elevator doors opened. “Paris?”
“In here.”
Roy walked past the partition. “Are you sure you’re… Jesus, what happened to your face?” Then he was right there. Cradling my head, stroking my chin, my cheek, my throat. I closed my eyes until he stopped. “Did Julia do this to you?”
“What? No, no, she’s not even in town.”
“Then how did this happen?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I had a disagreement with a client who couldn’t take no for an answer.” I stepped away.
“Did you call the police?”
A fresh cup of coffee from the pot was still too hot to drink. I got another ice cube. “Do you want some? I just made it.”
“Did you call the police?”
“For what?”
“Someone beat the shit out of you, that’s for what.”
“He was the one who had to crawl out of the elevator.” I drank. “Believe it or not, I can take care of myself. Now do you want some coffee?” I took out another cup. “Goddamn it, will you quit looking at me like that? It’s just a few bruises.”
“If it’s just a few bruises, then why didn’t you answer the phone?”
“Coffee or not?”
“Why didn’t you answer the phone?”
“Is it illegal for me not to answer the phone?” Yelling made my face hurt. Roy touched the back of my neck and made small circles with his fingers. “I think I took a pain pill. I don’t really remember. I’m sorry.”
“What if you’d had a concussion? You could have died.” His voice cracked.
I stared at the coffee cup in my hands.
“You should have called me.”
“Why? So you could baby me? Tend to my wounds? Nurse me back to health?” I laughed.
“Is that so bad?”
I narrowed a look at him. “I’m not helpless.”
“I never said you were.”
“Then quit treating me like I am.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“So you’re saying if you showed up at my apartment and I was all bruised up, you wouldn’t care?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m too tired to argue.”
“We’re not arguing.”
“We’re disagreeing, it’s the same thing.” I poured him a cup of coffee. “You like it black, right?” I nodded for him. “Here.”
Roy took the cup and put it down on the counter. “Who did this to you?”
“I told you.”
“I want a name.”
“Why, so you can warn him to stay away? Trust me. He knows. Fine, if it makes you feel better, Gregory Tims. But if I were you, I’d at least wait until he was out of the hospital. Threatening a guy with his jaw wired shut just doesn’t have the same heroic effect.”
Roy picked up my hand. I almost pulled away, but he stopped me by rubbing my knuckles. The bruises ran all the way to my wrist. I hadn’t even noticed until then. They didn’t hurt.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” I leaned against him. “I didn’t exactly sleep very well.”
“It’s okay.”
“You deserved it, though.”
“Probably.” He petted my head and kissed my temple. I tried not to wince. “Sore spot?”
“Only when you touch it.”
He chuckled.
“Can we go somewhere?” Away. Far away.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere but here. The park?”
“It’s cold.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should probably rest.”
“I don’t want to.” I turned my face into his neck. He didn’t wear any cologne so there was just the subtle scent of soap and the powerful ambrosia of male. “Please. I just need to…go.”
He kissed me again on the other side of my face. “Have you got any boots?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because there’s almost a foot of snow on the ground.”
“No, there isn’t.”
“Yeah. There is.”
“And the city didn’t shut down?”
“It’s got a pret
ty bad limp.”
I pressed closer. My robe parted just enough so there was nothing between him and everything below my waist. “Maybe you should just take me to your place, fuck my brains out, and put me to bed.”
Roy held me. “How about I just put you to bed?”
I buried a frustrated groan into his shoulder. “You’re killing me.”
“I don’t mean to.”
If he’d been anyone else, I would have called him a liar. “There’s really a foot of snow on the ground?”
“Close to it.” He petted my back.
“How about we go to the park and build a snowman?”
He laughed. “I don’t know. My last few attempts failed big time.”
“Too bad we don’t have a sled and a hill. We could just go sledding. I’ve never been sledding. Always wanted to.”
Roy tipped my chin up. “Get dressed, and I’ll see what I can do.”
********
The address Roy gave the cab driver took us to the far side of the park where there were no paths or picnic tables.
“I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ve never seen snow like this.” It obliterated the sidewalks, the bits of trash in the street, turning stone and asphalt into a perfect stretch of white.
A canvas waiting to be filled.
The cold pressed against my cheeks, and a slight breeze carried away my exhale.
“Are you sure you’re warm enough?” Roy said.
“I put on two long-sleeve shirts and a sweater like you said.”
“Socks?”
“Two pair.”
“I’d feel better if you had some long johns.”
“Not in fashion.”
Roy shook his head.
“What? I can’t go around wearing something that would make my ass look like a marshmallow.”
He knocked on the driver’s window. “Can you pop the trunk?” Roy went to the back and got out a flattened cardboard box. He had to fold it over to keep it from dragging on the ground.
“Are you ever going to tell me why you dug that out of the dumpster?”
“I told you, you’d have to wait and see.”
I paid the cabby, and he left.
“C’mon.” Snow crunched under Roy’s boots as he walked to the trees.
“Where are we going?”
“Wait and see.”
“You keep saying that.” Within a few steps, snow crusted my boots and clung to the cuff of my jeans. The extra weight caused me to fall behind.
“Hurry up, slow poke.”
“Slow poke? People still say that?” I was out of breath when I caught up to him. “How do people walk in that stuff?”
“You should try several feet of it.”
“No, thank you.”
“This way.” He slipped through a gap in the row of leyland cypress.
“You realize if you want to have your way with me, you don’t have to haul me off into the woods. The bed would have been just fine.” A branch flicked back, launching a clump of snow into my face.
He laughed. “Having fun yet?”
I tried to brush it off of my scarf before it could drip down my neck. “You didn’t say anything about having to fight shrubbery.”
A culvert made a sharp drop between the edge of the park and an industrial area. Roy unfolded the piece of cardboard.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Making you a sled.”
“You do origami?”
He rolled his eyes at me. “C’mere.”
I walked to the edge of the dip. “That’s a long way down.”
“Seventy-five, a hundred feet.”
“And you expect me to sled down that.”
“It’s not that steep.”
“We should go to the mall and see if they have any parachutes on sale.”
Roy laid out the piece of cardboard. Ironically, the extended side flaps gave it an airplane outline. “Here.”
“What?”
“Sit down on it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“You said you wanted to go sledding.”
“Down a hill, not the Grand Canyon.”
“The kids in the neighborhood slide down this thing on cardboard all the time.”
“With no snow?”
“Sure. A hill’s a hill. You just get something that will slide on the grass and go.”
“Why would anyone want to slide down a hill with no snow?”
“Because it’s fun.” Roy yanked me over. “Now sit.”
I did, and he got behind me, framing my body with his.
“Pull the front up and tuck your feet behind it.”
My bruised knee protested, but I managed to squeeze myself in. Both of us on the cardboard shrank it down to a shoebox.
“Are you sure this thing is big enough?”
“You only need enough to cover your ass.” Roy put his arm around my ribs.
“Kind of like a Speedo.”
“A what?”
“Never mind. So how do we make it go?”
Roy extended one of his legs out to the side and did the same with the opposite arm. He rocked his body and the cardboard went a few inches. “Work with me here, Paris.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Scoot the box.” He rocked again. I did the same. We moved another handful of inches.
“It might just be me, but I think we’re supposed to move faster than this.”
“We will, but we just have to get going.” Roy shifted his weight and dug his heel into the snow. “Now on the count of three, give it one good scoot.”
“There’s a good scoot?”
“One…”
“I don’t think this is going to work.”
“Two…”
“There’s a reason they make sleds.”
“Three.” He pulled with his foot, pushed with his hand, and shoved with his hips. Our makeshift sled went a whole two feet before stopping on the incline.
“Wow,” I said. “That was exciting.”
“You didn’t scoot.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault.”
“You were supposed to scoot.” He stood.
“Where are you going?” I started to stand.
“Stay there, I’m going to give you a push.”
“What?”
Roy put a hand on my shoulder. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
“So you’re sending me down alone?”
“No, I’m going to jump on when it gets moving.”
“Roy…”
“On three.”
“Roy, I don’t think—”
“Three.” Roy pushed hard enough to tip me forward, and I leaned back to keep from landing on my face. The cardboard began to slide, and Roy dropped down behind me. The angle of his landing shoved us forward.
Then the bottom of the culvert headed right toward us. “Roy?”
“Hang on.” Roy got one foot on the box, but his left leg was still cocked out. His heel caught the ground before he could pull it in. The box turned, and the view went from the bottom of the hill to the edge we’d dropped from.
Any minute, I expected to break the sound barrier.
“Roy!”
“I got you.”
“Roy!”
“We’re okay.”
“Roy!” The box made a slow turn. Roy tipped, and I went with him. Then world went head over heels.
My cheek plowed a line in the snow until Roy pulled me back. I tried to grab onto something to slow us down, but there was only powdered ice. It collected on the arms of my coat and rode up the sleeves. Roy hit the ground with the heel of his boot. What promised to be a stop turned into another spin. Any second we were going to smash into the ground, break an arm, a leg. As if it mattered. It would all hurt.
I clenched my eyes shut.
The rapid descent became a gradual slide. Braced against Roy’s chest, we made another half turn, then stopped.
“Are we dead?” I cracked an
eye. Gray clouds meandered overhead.
“No, of course not.”
I tried to sit up, and my elbow caught Roy in the ribs.
“Ugh—”
“Sorry.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” I knocked away the snow turning my bangs into dreadlocks. Another attempt to sit up failed. I rolled over.
Our cardboard sled joined us at the bottom of the culvert. Roy followed it with his eyes as it came to a landing a few yards away.
“I’m no expert,” I said. “But I think your sled had a malfunction.”
“Looks like it.”
“What about you? Anything broken?”
“Just snow in unpleasant places.”
“At least now I can say I’ve been sledding.” I buried a laugh into his shoulder.
Roy held me. “Sorry that didn’t work out like I planned.”
I picked at the snow clinging to his hair. He caught my hand and pressed his thumb into my palm. Our gloves kept us from making skin to skin contact, but they couldn’t stop the heat radiating from his flesh to mine.
“I think next time, we should stick to something safer,” I said. “Like snow angels.”
“The ride might have been rough, but you have to admit the landing was worth it.”
“So you’re saying risking life and limb was only a small price to pay to get me to top.”
His smile was subtle. “Just to get you at all.” He cupped my chin. I let him pull me closer. My bangs lay across his forehead, and the tips of our noses touched.
All I had to do was steal the hair’s breadth between us to touch my lips to his.
“Was it worth it?” he said.
“It happened so fast I didn’t even know what was going on.”
“But was it worth it?”
The wind kicked up, bringing a fresh snowfall. Somewhere a horn honked.
“Tell me, Paris.” He was so close the ghost of his lips brushed my mouth. “Was it worth it?”
Caught in the power of his voice, held by the strength of his gaze. There was only one answer. “Yes.”
********
Roy and I walked to a café about a block from the park in search of something warm to drink. The street lights turned on, and the temperature dropped. I huddled in my coat.
“You should have said something.” Roy put an arm around me.
“What? That it’s cold? I don’t know if you’ve noticed the three feet of snow on the ground.”
“Almost a foot.”
“One, three, it’s all the same.” I shivered.
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