Cocktails & Dreams

by Autumn Markus

  Jena laughed. “Leisa’s exact words were, ‘Tell your nomad he has a home.’” Her smile faded and she ran her hand gently down his cheek. “Do you want a home with me?”

  “More than anything.” His eyes were serious as he shoved the key deep in his pocket. “You can’t have this back.”

  “I don’t want it back.” Jena searched her feelings and was relieved to find that there was no objection from any part of her mind.

  Nicholas sat up, pulling her upright as well. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his forehead against hers. “This is real?” he murmured, almost like he was speaking to himself. “Are you scared?”

  “Yep. Terrified. You?”

  “Nope. I’m getting what I want.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, and Jena closed her eyes, trying to commit this moment, the feel of his skin against hers, to memory. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her.

  Jena smiled and clutched his shirtfront, snuggling close. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I so like that, Nicholas.” He chuckled, stroking her hair. “You should be scared, though,” she said. “I have a terrible temper when I really get mad, and I hold a grudge. And I’m a slob when life gets hectic.”

  “I think I can handle that,” he said, raising her face and looking into her laughing eyes. He placed her hand in the middle of his chest and covered it with one of his. “Having this right here every night when I go to sleep will make up for a lot of slobbishness.”

  Jena laughed, running the fingers of her other hand through his hair. “Remember that when you trip over piles of laundry and have Top Ramen for dinner every night during finals week, if you’re relying on me to cook.” She smiled mischievously, “Of course, this also means you can take advantage of my exercise endorphins more often. I’m gonna wear you out, mister.”

  Nick groaned. “Do I hafta?” He laughed when she shook him playfully. He leaned back against the cushion and settled Jena against him firmly. “This is real,” he said again, and it was no longer a question. “I’ll be coming home to you every day.”

  Jena looked up, and the sight of his huge grin made her smile back. “It is real,” she answered.

  Toeing off his loafers, Nick slowly eased his feet onto the coffee table. He picked up the remote to Jena’s iPod dock and started it playing before leaning his cheek on her head.

  “Then there’s no hurry,” he said in satisfaction.

  Jena leaned against him more heavily, turning slightly so she could curl her legs on the cushion beside her. Draping an arm around Nick, she took a deep breath and listened for warning bells. All she heard was blessed silence and the steady beating of her own heart.

  “No, there’s not,” she said. “Welcome home, nomad.”

  Slipping into life together was as easy as breathing. By the next morning, Leisa was shopping for new towels for Travis, swearing that there was no way his linens were going to reside in her pristine linen closet. Conor found a place in a house with several of his fellow firefighters and had moved in with them by the next week. One long weekend of shifting furniture, two fights over broken knickknacks, and one epic battle over Travis’s recliner later, and the move was accomplished.

  Jena was surprised at how seamlessly her life and Nick’s melded together, though their schedules could be identical one day and wildly different the next. On those days that she might not see Nick when he was awake, Jena usually left a joke or a comic strip for him to find when he finally got up, or got home, hoping to make him laugh. Occasionally she left a note, or a few lines from some poem that made her smile, but the best part of every day was always waking in the middle of the night snuggled into Nick’s body, their feet tangled together and his arm wrapped around her body. Whatever crap had happened during that day fell away as their breathing synced and she drifted back to sleep.

  As soon the weather became chill, Jena resigned herself to receiving an inquiring call from her mother asking how many to expect for Thanksgiving. Sharon’s crow of triumph when Jena confirmed that there would be two people coming from Davis could have been heard from Ashland to Jena’s apartment.

  Hanging up the phone, Jena shook her head with a smile. She’d half-heartedly offered to stay in Davis for the holiday if Nick hadn’t been comfortable going to her parents’ house, but he had been adamant about wanting to meet them, and she was quietly happy about that. Now that Nick had settled into the routine of school and work, and now that he had the stability of coming home to her each day and decompressing, he was relaxed and happy nearly all of the time, and Jena was ready for her parents to meet this man that had captured her heart so completely.

  Still…there was a thread of uneasiness that wove through her contentment. After accepting a few calls from his mother, Nick had started to avoid the phone once again. Jena had a sense that Mrs. Cooper’s calls had begun to center on him talking to his dad; one particular conversation that Jena had inadvertently walked in on had seemed intense, and she’d heard Nick growl out something rude about his dad before he abruptly snapped the phone closed and turned to her with a strained smile. He’d immediately tossed the phone into a basket and started asking about Jena’s parents and their upcoming trip, finally relaxing as she followed his lead and pretended she’d not heard anything. Later that night, though, Jena lay awake, wondering if that had been the best thing to do. Should she have pressed him about his relationship with them? Despite their obvious dislike for her, Jena didn’t want to be responsible for him cutting ties with his parents—she felt sad just thinking about the fleeting pain she saw Nick’s eyes when he hung up the phone that day, and when she imagined how it must have felt from Mrs. Cooper’s end. Sharon could be crazy, but Jena couldn’t imagine hurting her mother that way.

  She was thinking about that while driving to school when the bright shrill of her phone cut through her fugue. Glancing at the caller ID, she smiled, glad to leave her dark thoughts.

  Leisa didn’t even let Jena get out a hello before she launched her ear assault.

  “Well, Daddy called last night at a most inopportune time, and Travis answered the phone. All hell broke loose and now I’ve been disowned.”

  Jena grinned. “You haven’t told them that Travis moved in yet?” she asked in a scolding tone.

  “Hell, no. I think my sister must have dropped a hint, the little witch. I should never have told her. Besides, have you told your mom and dad?”

  “It’s been over a month, Leisa,” Jena answered.

  “I notice you didn’t answer the question,” Leisa retorted sharply.

  Jena sighed. “No.”

  Leisa laughed. “Thought so. Travis was going home with me, and I was going to tell them then. Anyway, this will all blow over soon, but I’m gonna teach Daddy a lesson and not go to Little Rock for Thanksgiving. I told Travis you wouldn’t mind if we tagged along with you.” She waited expectantly.

  Jena hit the gas as she jumped in surprise. She struggled to pull her thoughts together and avoid the car in front of her that had abruptly grown closer before she answered. “I’m sure Mom and Dad would be fine with you guys coming. They were pretty disappointed to have their favorite adopted son miss dinner, anyway, and they ask about you all the time.”

  She tried to decide if the extra guests would be a good idea or not—they would certainly take some of the pressure off of Nicholas. Her brothers were so much older, and had each been married so long that any boyfriend of Jena’s had been traditionally subject to intense scrutiny.

  “I knew you’d say that,” Leisa said smugly. “So, what does one wear to Thanksgiving dinner in Ashland, Oregon? What’s the weather like there in November? I’ve only been there in the spring. I can’t imagine your parents standing on ceremony, but you never know. I have an aunt who still insists my cousin wear a tartan skirt for Christmas, and she’s thirty, for God’s sake! And Travis needs to know what the sleeping arrangements will be, since he usually gets the guest room, and of course, I’ll be taking that
now. Can we sleep together, or do we have to play virginal? You know, that’s such a change that it might just be fun. And should we bring a gift? Mama says we should, but I don’t even know what’s appropriate here. Wine? Beer? A casserole?” Jena heard her take a long swallow of something before she spoke again. “So…what?” Leisa waited expectantly.

  Jena pulled into the parking lot of the school and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. Thinking hard, she tried to answer as many questions as she could remember. “Whatever you want. Cold and wet, the same as here. I don’t know. Mama knows? Not necessary, but beer is fine. Did I get ’em all?”

  Leisa sighed with exasperation. “Jena, you’re making no sense at all. Go drink a tub of coffee and call me back when you’re more coherent.” The phone went dead in Jena’s hand.

  “Holy Mother of God, Thanksgiving might have been a rash offer,” she muttered to herself, grabbing her backpack and heading to her first class. Leisa called twice more with another slew of questions before Jena finally turned her phone off.

  Travis took one look at her shell-shocked face when she walked into the therapy room after class, and burst into laughter. “Leisa?” he asked, and chuckled again as Jena nodded mutely. “She started calling me when you stopped answering your phone, and I think I’ve got her situated.” He spun around in his chair. “Did Sharon have a coronary when you told her we’d be coming? She just loves guests.”

  He snickered, and Jena knew he was remembering his first Thanksgiving at Casa Del Baker, when Jena’s mom had refused to believe that he and Jena were just friends. Jena didn’t think Trav would ever want to return to the house of hell, but he thought Sharon’s matchmaking was so funny that he had to see if she could top it at a later date, and fell into spending most short school breaks with Jena in Ashland.

  “Yes, she does…and I’ll call her at lunch.” Jena cringed and hid her face as Trav tossed her a stern look. “I’m sorry! They’re just going to be insane over this. You and Nicholas and Leisa? She used to be my homeless puppy, when we were undergrads, and she and my dad really hit it off. She can make him laugh like no one else.”

  “I’m a homeless puppy, huh?” Travis grinned. “Just for that, I might have to contemplate slipping Sharon a few details I know about you and Nicholas. And noise. She’ll have you two locked in the basement at night, with her ear over the vent, of course.”

  Jena’s head jerked up. “You know about the vents?”

  Travis shrugged. “Sure. Your brother, Dan, told me years ago. Who doesn’t know?”

  Muttering to herself, Jena grabbed her first patient chart and stalked out to the therapy room.

  By lunchtime, she had worked up courage enough to call her mother. As expected, Sharon’s joy at having Travis and Leisa was extreme. Jena heard what sounded like dancing before her mom launched into a barrage of questions that was almost as loud, fast, and incomprehensible as Leisa’s fusillade from the morning. Jena’s ears were ringing when she snapped her phone shut. She laid her head on the cool desk and puffed out a quick breath.

  “Jen?” Travis ventured cautiously as he poked his head around the door. “Everything okay?” He slipped in and shut the door.

  She closed her eyes. “Mom is looking up recipes for sweet potatoes and barbeque along with the turkey to honor ‘our southern guest.’ Oh, and boiled peanuts. She’s going for an all-region theme, I guess. And there was some mention of trying to find Rocky Mountain oysters in your honor. I might never forgive you for that one.” Jena glared at Travis, and he quickly wiped the smile off his face. “Dad gave you and Peter his standard ‘no unmarried sex in my house’ lecture, right?” Travis nodded, the grin creeping out again. “Well, Mom offered you the laundry room for assignations where Dad isn’t likely to find you, and she promises not to listen at the vent, but I think she was lying. I’ve been offered the basement—damn, you’re good—with no vent promise, I might add. She wants Nick’s mother’s number to find out what his favorite dishes are and if he prefers feather pillows or hypoallergenic foam. She prefers the names ‘Caroline’ and ‘Michael’ for our kids, and warned me to never name a boy ‘Francis,’ because it’s too confusing. Shall I continue?”

  Travis burst out in loud laughter. “There’s more?”

  Jena nodded mutely, banging her head slowly on the desk.

  “Oh, this is going to be fuuuuuuunnnnnn…” Travis was whistling merrily as he grabbed the chart for his next patient and headed back out the door.

  Jena decided to get a jump on her Thanksgiving packing when she got home and was in the bedroom when she heard the door open and shut quietly. When she didn’t hear anything else after a minute, she called out. “Nicholas?”

  “Here.” His voice sounded tightly controlled, and Jena frowned, her chest tightening at the unexpected tone.

  Leaving her suitcase on the bed, she went looking for him. He was leaning in the refrigerator, eyes scanning the shelves. “Dinner?” he asked.

  “I hadn’t thought about it yet.” Jena ran her hand under his scrub top and rubbed his back. “Stir-fry, probably. What happened to the sex suit?” she teased.

  He grabbed a bottle of Becks and shifted away from her to lean against the counter. Taking a quick swig, he answered. “Got messy. I need a shower. Do you mind doing the food?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he swallowed the rest of the beer and headed down the hall toward the bathroom.

  “Not at all, Mr. Pissy,” Jena muttered to herself, getting out the cutting board. Chopping vegetables with vicious efficiency made her feel a little better, though a tiny part of her brain remained on high alert, her heart beating faster and her breathing elevated.

  By the time Nick came back, wearing old jeans and a soft red button-down shirt, Jena had the stir-fry on the table. “So…how was your day?” she asked quietly.

  “Fine,” he answered shortly. He jabbed chopsticks into his food and took a quick bite, then looked up with a brittle smile. “How was your day?”

  She launched into an abbreviated version of her calls with Leisa and her mom. Nicholas laughed in the appropriate places, but it seemed off. Jena reached out to stroke the back of his left hand with tentative fingers and he jumped, moving the hand to his lap.

  Jena leaned back in her chair and stared at him, dropping her unused chopsticks on her plate. “Nicholas, talk to me. Something’s wrong.” She hesitated. “Would you rather stay here for Thanksgiving? We can make something healthier than my mom’s calorie-fest and avoid the insanity. It’s a win-win situation.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Jena,” he replied. “You can’t cancel on your parents right before Thanksgiving.” He patted her hand with a tight smile before returning his hand to his lap. “It will be fine.”

  Sure it will, she thought grimly.

  Jena picked up her chopsticks again, determined to lighten the mood. “So should I give my mom your mom’s number?” she joked. “That way you’ll be sure to get at least one thing you like. Probably everything you like, really.”

  “Not necessary.” His eyes were cool again. “Besides, I’ve already spoken to Mother today. She offered to fly me home for the holiday, on her, and she’s a little disappointed that I didn’t take her up on her offer. I’m not sure how your mom’s call would be received.”

  O-kay, Jena thought, dropping the single bite of food she’d managed to scoop up back on her plate.

  She tried again. “Have you done any arthroscopic surgeries yet? I’ve taken the anatomy courses, of course, but I would really love to see the scope in action and how the doc takes the individual muscles into account, specifically those that connect to the thigh. I was telling Stefan today—”

  Nick’s head jerked up. “I thought you said he was Travis’s patient.”

  “He is,” Jena responded, surprised at his harsh tone. “Travis just had to leave early so he could catch a prof for a few questions about the courses he needs to specialize in music therapy. He doesn’t want to drag it out forever
, so—”

  “Aren’t there any other therapists who could see Stefan? I know you didn’t want to bring your personal life to work, but he did stalk you last time, Jena. That should be a special circumstance.” Nicholas leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

  “I think ‘stalk’ is too strong a word. He had a crush.” She shrugged. “It happens.”

  “Really? How often?” He leaned forward, tension in the lines of his shoulders and his neck.

  Jena shook her head. “We are not arguing about this, Nicholas. You’re pissed about something totally different, and you’re making it about my work. Don’t shut me out, damn it! Tell me what happened today.”

  “Whatever. Refuse to answer my question.” He pushed away from the table and stomped toward the bathroom, shutting the door with a sharp snick.

  What the fuck? Jena thought, stunned at how quickly the evening had gone to hell.

  She followed him to the door and knocked loudly. “Hello! Jena to Nicholas! I really don’t know what is going on here, but I’d like a little explanation.”

  Nick came out of the bathroom and edged past her in the hallway. He grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter. “Well, as fun as this has been, I think I’ve had enough.”

  Jena’s head was spinning. “Where—”

  “Out,” Nicholas answered shortly, shrugging on his jacket. “I haven’t seen Conor for more than a few minutes in a while.” He yanked the door open before stopping in the doorway. Jena could see his hand grip the doorknob convulsively, but he didn’t turn around. “Don’t wait up.”

  The door shut loudly.

  “Dick,” Jena yelled. Throwing the almost untouched food into a container, she put it in the fridge, quickly cleared the table, and washed the dishes. That done, she sat on the couch muttering to herself before grabbing her own jacket. Fuck him.

  Nabbing her keys and phone, Jena started to shove them in her pocket before deciding to toss the phone back on the counter. There was absolutely no one she wanted to talk to, her mom, Leisa, and Dickolas being the most likely to call.