by Meka James
He gave me a pat on the shoulder before taking his wife’s hand and heading down the hall. The two led the way with me following behind. Just like my parents, those two had a strong marriage. Seeing them interact, witnessing their ease around each other made me a little envious. One day...one day I hoped that would be me and Ginger. But I had to take it one day at a time, and for today I only wanted to find out why she ended up here.
When we got to the nurses’ station, they directed us to Ginger’s room. A nurse was helping to transfer her from the wheelchair to the bed when we walked in. The side of her face was swollen and showing discoloration. It’d be a nasty looking bruise by tomorrow.
Memories of seeing her in the hospital after that bastard had nearly killed her came barreling back with force. She’d had bruises on her neck where he’d choked her and a nasty bite mark on one side. Her arms had looked like she’d been on the losing end of a street fight. I’d been so filled with rage I couldn’t think straight. If he hadn’t already been dead, I would have killed him myself. I’d been thankful she’d been asleep when I’d first arrived, she didn’t need to see that from me. Anger had been the last thing she’d needed to be faced with regardless of the fact it wasn’t directed at her.
I let out a controlled exhale and pushed those thoughts away. She still didn’t need to see that from me.
Chapter 12
Calida
As soon as the nurse left, Mom started fussing over me. Fluffing up the pillows and continuously asking me how I felt. How I felt? Ridiculous, that’s how. I passed out from yet another panic attack. I went from going six months without one to having two major ones within a week. On top of that, I’d fallen down the damn stairs, and they were all here, expecting some explanation.
“Mom, I’m fine,” I said, taking hold of her hand.
She patted mine and gave me a smile. She wore that same worried look that she’d had when they’d arrived from Greece. At least she’d stopped crying.
“Really, I’m okay.”
Dad cast a quick glance over at Malcolm who was putting his phone back in his pocket, before gently pulling Mom away.
“Come on, Sandy, let’s go see if there’s anything decent to eat. Malcolm, you need anything?”
“No, sir, I’m good.”
Dad leaned over and gave me a kiss on the head before dragging Mom from the room, leaving me alone with Malcolm. Butterflies filled my stomach. I nearly called out for them to come back. Why was I nervous to be left alone with Malcolm? Could it be because of the look on his face when he’d walked in? He’d tried to hide it, but he’d looked pissed.
Mal pulled the chair up beside the bed, and I kept my eyes focused on the fuzz balls that had collected on the ugly green blanket from one too many washings. He placed his fingers on my chin and turned my head toward him. His thumb ran across my swollen cheek before leaning down to place a feather-light kiss on my lips.
“Baby, what happened?” he asked, taking a seat in the chair. His warm hand wrapped around mine as he waited on an answer.
I shrugged in response.
“How do you not know?”
“Because I don’t,” I snapped, pulling my hand free.
He leaned back in the chair, running his hands over his face as he let out a groan.
“Baby, I’m just trying to understand. You ended up passed out in a stairwell and you have no recollection of even going in there to begin with. It’s...troubling.”
Mal sat forward, resting his forearms on his thighs as he waited in vain for me to shed some light on the subject. I went back to picking at the fuzz balls on the blanket. The silence stretched on.
I thought back over what I’d said to Dr. Carr. How could I have let any of that slip? What a difference a week made, apparently. I’d worked hard keeping Mal at a distance, keeping myself protected from my emotions, as they were the enemy and couldn’t be trusted. However, seeing Malcolm almost daily for the past week, having him near me, shot my efforts to hell and brought all those feelings to the surface.
I swallowed hard. I would have to do a better job of locking them away. They brought nothing but trouble into my life. My current situation was further proof of that. One week of “dating” Malcolm and I almost opened the floodgates on the complete ugly truth of my life with Seth.
Malcolm leaned back in the chair and let out a loud, aggravated sigh. “Macy said she’ll be by later.”
I said a silent thank you for the change of topic. “Tell her that’s not necessary. I mean, it’s nothing serious. I don’t even understand why they’re forcing me to stay here tonight.”
I attempted to reposition myself only to be hit with a stabbing sensation in my ribs. I’d been through worse, I’d survived worse, but the pain still managed to take my breath away. Freaking concrete steps.
Mal was out of the chair, assisting me instantly. His hazel eyes met mine as he gently helped me sit up more. Again his fingers brushed across my cheek.
“When I got the call you were being taken to the hospital…” He stopped. He had a look I’d not seen before. Fear? He started to speak again, but there was a knock at the door, followed by the nurse entering with a wheelchair.
“Time for your MRI, Ms. Jokobi.”
Mal’s jaw clenched hearing me addressed by that name—Seth’s name. They’d all wanted me to change my name and were upset when Shawn was given the same name. They’d all thought it was that easy to forget any of it had happened. Like changing my name would somehow erase everything. Shawn was his son, no matter what name he had. I didn’t understand why they couldn’t comprehend that.
Mal stepped back to give the nurse room to maneuver the wheelchair closer. I kept my attention on her instead of looking at him. It didn’t matter, though. I could feel his eyes on me, which only served to feed into the anxiousness that had once again taken up residence in my stomach.
“I’ll be waiting when you get back.”
I gave a slight nod to acknowledge what he’d said before being wheeled from the room.
Chapter 13
Malcolm
Soon as Ginger and the nurse left the room, I took a seat on her vacant bed. Exhaustion came over me out of nowhere. She’d gotten so damned defensive when I asked what happened. It was a simple fucking question. How could we not wonder and worry about her passing out? Why in the hell would she get so pissed about it?
Ginger’s parents returned, stopping my trip down the rabbit hole of possible explanations.
Collin pointed to the empty bed.
“They just took her for the MRI.” I answered his unspoken question.
Sandy smiled and walked over with a cup of coffee and a cookie. “Got you something anyway.”
“Thank you.”
We sat and chatted while we waited for Ginger to be brought back. Once she returned, her parents talked to her for a bit, letting her know they’d pick up Shawn from Macy and get her car from Dr. Carr’s office. After they left, we ate and watched reruns of Law and Order.
“You don’t have to stay,” she said once the latest episode ended.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No, I’m just saying I’m sure you’d rather sleep in your bed than in a crappy hospital reclining chair.”
I reached over to take her hand, and placed a light kiss on her knuckle. The other was bandaged to keep her from moving her wrist. She’d have to be fitted for a brace before checking out tomorrow.
“Would you like for me to leave?”
She shook her head no, which was a relief since I had no plans on leaving.
“You mind if I watch the game?”
“No, go ahead. It’ll be just what I need to put me to sleep,” she replied, giving me a smile for the first time.
“Aw, it’s not that bad. I still think I can convert you into a sports lover.”
“That would be a pretty amazing feat.” She grimaced as she settled down in her bed.
&nbs
p; “You need another dose of pain meds?” I asked, getting up to help.
Ginger moved slowly, trying not to put pressure on her wrist. “No. It only hurts when I move. If I could just learn to be a statue all would be well.”
I moved her short bangs to the side, and gave her a kiss on the forehead, letting my lips linger there for a moment.
“Seeing you in a hospital again, like this, bruised and battered…you have no idea how relieved I am that you weren’t seriously injured.”
I moved away, and she kept her eyes downcast for a moment.
“Sorry,” her voice was barely above a whisper. “I hate to worry everyone.”
“Well, just don’t do it again,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light.
She looked up and gave me nod of agreement.
The MRI had come back clear, and Ginger was still tight-lipped on what happened. People didn’t pass out for no reason. That thought, coupled with how defensive she’d gotten when I asked what happened made me think she was hiding something. With any luck, she’d be willing to tell me what that was soon enough.
I dimmed the lights and turned down the volume as I settled down in the uncomfortable chair to watch the game.
The glow of the TV still illuminated the room when I was awakened by Ginger’s mumbling.
“Seth…please…I’m sorry.”
I sat up to see Ginger clenching the covers and twitching in her sleep.
“Don’t…please!” she cried out.
I was out of my seat quickly, gently trying to shake her awake. Tears leaked from her tightly shut eyes. That bastard refused to give her rest, even in death he was managing to torment her.
I didn’t want to shake her too hard “Ginger, baby, wake up.”
She swung her arms wildly, striking me on the cheek as she fought for freedom.
“Stop! Please!” she begged again.
I pressed the button on her bed, flooding the room with light. Her eyes reacted to the stimulation, shutting tighter as she let out a strangled cry.
“Calida!” I semi-yelled, shaking her again.
Her eyes popped open, then shut again just as quickly to block out the light. Her breathing was heavy, as if she’d been fighting for her life, and I guess somewhere in there she had. She shielded her eyes as she reopened them. I reached over to the dimmer and adjusted the brightness. She drew in a stuttered breath, and wiped away the tears.
“I’m sorry for waking you,” she said in a low voice, while pulling the covers up to her chin.
Ginger wouldn’t look at me. Instead, she focused her eyes on the glowing TV.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m more concerned about you. Do you always have such violent nightmares?”
She shook her head. “Not as much as I used to.”
She attempted to readjust herself in the bed and drew in a sharp breath as pain hit her. I moved to help her, but she put her hands up to stop me.
“Please don’t touch me. You’ve done enough.”
The anger in her words might as well have been a slap to my face. I’d only been trying to help, so I didn’t understand what the hell I’d done to warrant her to say something like that. I stepped back and watched as she cautiously moved to get herself situated.
“Turn off the TV please,” she said before turning her back to me.
Chapter 14
Calida
I laid on the bed watching as Shawn played with the big block Legos. He grinned proudly every time he managed to stack one on top of the other. Staying a week with my parents was not ideal, but they refused to let me go home until I was better, and I found it easier not to fight. It was a help, as I couldn’t pick up Shawn without it hurting like hell. Plus, no matter how old you are, sometimes it’s nice to have your mom cook for you. Especially when she was a great cook like mine.
The downside was having Mom ask me a million and one questions whenever I’d avoid Malcolm’s calls. He’d come by only once, but didn’t stay long, because I’d told him I’d taken one of my pain pills and needed a nap. Mom fussed at me for lying, since my pain pills didn’t really put me to sleep. I ended up taking a nap because I didn’t want to listen to her tell me about what a great guy he was. I knew that. He could be everything I’d ever wanted in a man, or thought I wanted. But how could I fully trust him when I sure as hell couldn’t trust myself?
A soft knock at the door was followed by Mom popping her head into the room.
“Dinner’s ready.”
Shawn carefully climbed down off the bed, knocking Legos off in the process.
“Nana, see,” he said, proudly holding up his creation of three blocks stacked together.
She bent down to pick him up. “Aw, good job, my smart boy.”
I eased off the bed, and followed behind them. I was so grateful that the soreness was no longer as intense. If I moved the wrong way, I’d still got a sharp pain, but for the most part I was well enough to go home in the next day or two. Down the hall, and through the living room, I joined my parents in their large, open-concept kitchen.
“How you feeling, babygirl?” Dad pulled out my chair. He gave my shoulders a squeeze and kissed the top of my head.
Lasagna. The meal Mom reserved for “special occasions.” Three adults, yet four plates were on the table. I stared at her back as she buckled Shawn into his high chair.
“Better. I’m thinking we’ll head home tomorrow.”
“Nonsense,” he retorted. “You two should stay a while longer.”
“Us or Shawn?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
He laughed, and picked up his glass of sweet tea.
“Mom, are we expecting a guest?”
No sooner than the question was asked did the doorbell ring. She smiled then went to answer. When I heard Mal’s voice, I knew exactly what she’d done.
“Always meddling.”
Dad chuckled in response. “You know your mother.”
Mal walked in laughing at something Mom had said. Dad stood to greet him, and Shawn started squirming in his chair from excitement. What was it about that man that had my entire family on his side? Not that they knew there were sides to be had, but still. After he said his hello to Shawn, Mal looked over at me. I knew I needed to stand or say something, but I didn’t.
Instead, I took in the sight of him. His dreads were actually hanging free instead of being pulled back like normal. They’d grown and now hung past his broad shoulders. The dark blue Guess T-shirt was loose fitting but tight enough to hint at a well-toned physique. The light-wash jeans were a relaxed fit, and I couldn’t help but notice how nicely he filled them out from the back side. Mal walked over to where I sat, and when he leaned to kiss the top of my head, the smell of his cologne surrounded me. It wasn’t an artificial smell. No, it was clean, crisp, and undeniably male. Did he always smell that good?
His fingers ran across the now-fading bruise on my cheek, his touch left behind an acute awareness on my skin. “How you feeling?”
I looked up and smiled. “Better. Still sore in some places, but—” I turned to look at Dad, “—going home soon.”
Dad’s eyes widened, and he threw his hands up in surprise. “Why was that directed at me?”
“Because you’re trying to hold me hostage,” I teased.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. Dinner looks great, Sandy,” Malcolm commented as he took his seat across from me. “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while.”
“That is a shame. Calida has become a better cook, so she can keep you well fed.”
“What? Why am I responsible for cooking for him? He’s a grown man fully capable of cooking if he wanted.”
“Well, dear, if he’s anything like your father, you don’t want him in the kitchen.”
Dad and Mal laughed. I was stuck in the twilight zone, and missing the cosmic joke of my life. Most of dinner I spent trying my best to keep my focus on Shawn and ignoring the man sitting ac
ross from me. After dinner, I attempted to help Mom clean up, but she shooed me away. She said I had company to entertain. I wanted to retort that she invited him so she should do the entertaining, but I bit my tongue and headed into the family room where the guys were.
Dad and Mal were on the floor with Shawn playing with cars.
“Care to join us?” Mal asked when he saw me.
“No.” I shook my head. “Can I borrow you for a moment?”
“Sure.” He ruffled Shawn’s hair before walking over to me. “What’s up?”
“Take me for ice cream.”
“Okay.”
Music came blaring out of the speakers when Mal started his truck.
“How do you listen to that crap, and so loud?”
“It’s not crap,” he retorted, turning the volume down. “You need to have a better appreciation for Kendrick Lamar.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.” He gave me his signature boyish grin before cranking the volume back up.
The bass of his stereo system vibrated through the truck making my chest feel strange. How was he not deaf? The stereo in his Land Rover rivaled that of any night club or maybe it was because of the concentrated space it felt so much louder. I had to laugh when he started rattling off the lyrics of the song, words I couldn’t even understand. His head bopped along to the beat in perfect rhythm as he seat-danced for the duration of the ten-minute drive to Bruster’s.
“I choose the music on the way home,” I said when he turned the car off.
“You know you enjoyed the show,” he replied with a wink.
We got our ice cream then headed over toward one of the benches.
“You have a sweet tooth?” he asked before taking a lick of his chocolate.
“Not really, but I needed out of the house. Call it a jail break,” I answered with a small laugh before tasting my cotton candy explosion.
Mom kept watching me and asking if I felt dizzy. They were still worried as to why I’d passed out. I wished I could tell them I was having the panic attacks again, the few I’d had around them were never that bad. They’d happened before I’d begun therapy. I was lucky—if I could even use that word—because the worst of it came when I was alone, mostly at night. Plus, telling them would trigger a slew of why questions I didn’t want to answer. I certainly didn’t want Malcolm to know how big a role he was playing in my apparent ungluing. It wasn’t fair to him that I couldn’t keep it together. After all, he wasn’t really doing anything wrong.