Fading Into Nothing

by Kelly Moore

  “You could have told me that before I took off.”

  “Then I wouldn’t have gotten cobbler and ice cream,” he says as he takes down three bowls.

  “He has a point there,” Will adds, laughing.

  I won’t admit it to them, but I love their banter. It feels like we have all been friends for a lifetime. Maybe that’s what love is too.

  “Good night, Hank. It’s your turn next week to cook. Make sure you have plenty of wine.” I holler at him as he gets into his old pickup truck. His tires crunch on the gravel as he drives off.

  Will wraps his arms around my waist from behind me and kisses the back of my head. “I like him, Mags.”

  “Me too. He would have made a great father.”

  “Yeah, those seem to be a rare breed.”

  I turn in his arms. “I’m sorry things haven’t worked out with your dad, but at least he’s always been around, and he adores your mother. I’m not even sure my parents liked one another.”

  “How did you turn out to be so good?” He kisses the tip of my nose.

  “I honestly don’t know. Lip and I had to practically raise ourselves.” I take his hand and lead him back into the house. “I don’t really remember a lot of those years. It’s like I laid down for a nap and when I woke up, I was all grown up, living in an apartment, and teaching young minds.”

  “Do you think you blocked it out because of the drugs?” He plops down on the couch.

  “I don’t know, and it’s not something I like to dwell on.” The old habit of rubbing my arms repeats itself.

  “I wish I could black out a few years of my life.”

  “Oh yeah, what would that be.” I sit next to him.

  “In high school, I was bullied all the time. Since Patrick was only a year older than me, we were always at the same school. He’d get wind of what was going on and beat the crap out of the person when he found out. He got expelled once, and I thought my dad was going to kill him. He wouldn’t listen to anything Patrick tried to tell him.” He lays his head back on the couch. “I think my dad thought I deserved to be bullied.”

  “That’s terrible. Didn’t your mother defend you?”

  “She did.” He shakes his head. “My dad always accused her of siding with me.”

  “With how different they are, I’m surprised that they’ve managed to stay together.”

  “He’s different with her. Most of the time he worships the ground she walks on, at least until I came along.”

  I scoot back to the corner of the couch and drape my arm over the back so I can turn and look at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “Mom doted on me. Not that she didn’t love Patrick equally, but she used to tell me that I had extra-special abilities that I needed help with.” He laughs. “I was a small kid and believed her. I didn’t think at the time that I had a disability.” He draws a leg up on the couch. “He hated the fact that I was defective, in his eyes,” he says using finger quotes.

  “You’re not defective, Will. I’m betting you excelled in math skills and analytical thinking.”

  “I did.”

  “That tends to be the pattern with dyslexic children. That’s what I tell the parents to focus the child on when they are struggling but obviously highly intelligent.”

  “My mom and dad were fighting one night. Patrick and I could hear them from our room. We snuck downstairs to see what was going on. It was the first time we’d ever heard them fight. Dad was sitting at his desk, looking over my report card. My mom kept telling him that I just needed more help. Dad said that I was damaged and would always be stupid. My mom came unraveled and took off her shoe and threw it at him, hitting him in the head. Mom stormed out, and we took off running back to our rooms. We didn’t see my dad for an entire week.”

  “I’m starting to not like your father very much.” I lock my fingers with his on the back of the couch. “Why did your mom take him back?”

  “I don’t know, but he was nicer to me after that, at least until I was older.” He leans in and kisses me. “That’s enough of my sob story. I want to carry you off to bed.”

  “I’m okay with where we are.” I smile at him.

  He places his hands on my thighs and pulls me down on the couch, underneath him. “This works for me too.” His mouth consumes mine with heat. I love the feel of his tongue moving with mine and his hips rocking back and forth with a need so strong he can’t quit moving. I’m so into his kiss, I don’t realize he’s stripped me out of my clothes.

  He leans up and digs a condom out of his jeans pocket. He places the foil pack between his teeth as he tugs his jeans below his hips. I take the packet and rip it open.

  “What’s taking you so long?” I say breathlessly.

  “Eager, are we?” He takes it from me and sheaths his hard cock.

  I impatiently wrap one leg around his bare ass, encouraging him to hurry up. He grabs me by the shoulder and sits me up, placing me on the edge of the couch. He’s on his knees in front of me. Taking my hips, he draws me forward onto him. I rest my hands on his shoulders, and he braces his hands on the back of the couch.

  “Don’t move,” he orders. His breath is on that sensitive spot of skin behind my ear. It only fuels me, making me more eager to feel him deeper inside me. I wiggle my hips, and he stills me with his hands.

  “Don’t fucking move,” he orders again. He slowly pulls out, so his tip is at my entrance. He slides his hand between us and spreads my own wetness around. He inserts two fingers into my rear end. I gasp at the burning sensation.

  “Has anyone ever touched you here?” He moves his fingers in and out.

  “No,” I barely get out as I bite my bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Good,” he says as he continues his movements while he pushes his cock inside me.

  There is no building; my orgasm explodes like fireworks around him, drawing his cock and fingers deeper inside. He lets out a wild groan as I squeeze him tighter and tighter.

  When my orgasm starts to wane, he removes his fingers and thrusts harder and harder, pushing me back into the couch. He suddenly stops and pulls out of me.

  “Turn around,” he demands. I get up and do as he says, placing my knees into the back of the couch with my hands braced on the top. He presses forward and moves in behind, spreading my legs wider with his knees. He has me bent over the back of the couch when he enters from behind. He’s kneeled beneath me and pulls me onto him as he reaches around my chest and tugs at my taut nipples. I use the back of the couch to lift and lower several times on to him.

  “Damn it, Mags!” he yells and grabs my hips. His fingers are going leave a mark, but I don’t care. With every thrust he’s deeper, hitting a spot I didn’t know existed inside. I lose myself in the sensation and let go, and he roars my name behind me and pulses deep inside.

  When we finally find our breath, he lays me beside him on the couch, lying face to face.

  “That was incredible,” I tell him.

  “You are incredible,” he says, kissing me softly on the lips.

  We spend the next two weeks lounging by the beach, swimming, and taking long walks during the day. Our nights are spent in each other’s arms, learning more and more about how well our bodies work together. Will is so in touch with the noises that I make, he makes me lose control, and I’ve learned he really does like a little kink.

  I haven’t told him yet, but I’ve fallen madly in love with him. He’s the sweetest and not to mention a demanding lover. There isn’t anything that I don’t love about this man, and I feel pretty lucky that he walked into my life.

  Chapter 10

  One month later…

  * * *

  “Hank, are you here?” I yell out into the market. I’ve been calling him for the last hour, but he hasn’t answered his phone. “Go look upstairs,” I tell Will. The market is normally closed by seven, and it’s Hank’s night for dinner, but the open sign is still hanging up in the front door. Will and I had set our chairs down
at the beach to watch the sunset before we headed to Hank’s for dinner. I had just sat down and dug my toes into the sand when I swear I heard a woman whisper Hank’s name. That’s when I started calling him.

  My heart stops when Will yells, “Maggie, call 911.” I rush up the stairs two at a time to find Will leaning over Hank, feeling for a pulse. I snatch my phone out of my purse and call for help.

  I can feel my own face turn ashen from fear. “Is he”—I swallow my shaky voice—“alive?”

  “Yes,” he answers quickly. “Hank, can you hear me?” Will rolls him onto his back.

  There’s a visible knot on the side of his head where he evidently hit the ground. My shoulders start to quake as I kneel down next to him. “We’re here, Hank. You’re going to be okay,” I tell him, trying to convince myself. “Help is on the way.” I rub my hand up and down his arm as if touching him will fix him.

  “Stay here. I’m going to go outside to meet the ambulance.”

  I nod as Will runs down the stairs. “Please, Hank, you have to be okay. I can’t lose you.” I keep glancing at my watch as time seems to have stood still. I hold back my tears and keep talking to him.

  “He’s up here.” I hear Will barreling up the stairs with heavy footsteps following him.

  Will wraps his arms around me as we stand out of the way and let the paramedics work on Hank. After they hook him up to their equipment, one of them says it looks like he’s had a heart attack.

  My tears that had been held back start falling. I watch helplessly as they load him onto a gurney and carry him out through the store into the ambulance. Will snags Hank’s keys, and we follow them to the hospital in Hank’s beat-up old truck. A split second after we are in the cab, he jams the truck into gear and guns the engine.

  During the short ride to the hospital, I can’t help but think about how much Hank has come to mean to me in such a short time. I love him like a father, and I’m not ready to lose him so soon. Will is quiet and focused on the road, but he slips his hand down from the steering wheel and grasps my hand. We share a look, but no words are spoken between us.

  The truck is barely in park before we open the doors and rush inside the emergency room. It’s a small hospital with only a few people scattered among the chairs in the waiting room. I sit while Will checks us in at the front desk. There is a fresh coat of paint on the newly decorated room. It doesn’t smell like your typical antiseptic hospital. There is a woman cradling a baby, rocking back and forth. In the far corner, there is a man lying down with a hoodie over his head. His clothes are tattered and dirty. He sits up as a woman dressed in scrubs brings him a cup of coffee.

  “I’ve got us all checked in. They said they will let us know something as soon as they can.” Will sits beside me, and I lay my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around me. “He’s going to be okay,” he says in a whisper.

  For the next two hours before a nurse comes and gets us taking us to Hank’s room, memories of the last few weeks bounce around in my head like Ping-Pong balls. My knees feel weak as we follow her to his room. He’s hooked up to all kinds of equipment and surrounded by pale walls with fluorescent lighting. There is a whiteboard on one of the walls with a nurse’s name written on it. The beep of the heart monitor draws me back to Hank.

  “Is he okay?” I ask the nurse, whose name is Ava.

  “He’s going to be fine. The doctor will be in to see you in a few minutes,” she says as she cancels an alarm.

  Will pulls up a cushioned chair next to the bed. “Here sit beside him.” I do as he says and squeeze Hank’s hand. Will stands behind me rubbing the tension from my shoulders.

  “I’m Dr. Smith,” a tall man says as he walks in, holding out his hand. “Are you related to Hank?” he asks.

  “We’re the only family he has,” Will answers.

  “Well, Hank is a lucky man that you found him when you did. He suffered a heart attack and a mild concussion from his fall.”

  “Is he going to be okay?” Will asks.

  “Yes. We were able to stent one of his coronary arteries that was blocked.”

  “Why isn’t he waking up?” I sniff.

  “He was sedated for the heart cath. He’ll wake up soon. We did a CT of his head to make sure he didn’t have a bleed from hitting it on the ground when he fell.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Smith.” Will shakes his hand again.

  “He’s going to need to take it easy for a few weeks. I’ve known Hank a long time from the market. He’s not going to be a very good patient.” He laughs.

  “We’ll see to it that he behaves,” Will says.

  As soon as the doctor leaves the hospital room, Hank’s eyes open.

  I stand over him and hold his hand. “It’s okay, Hank. You’re in the hospital.”

  “What happened?” His voice sounds raspier than normal.

  “You’ve had a heart attack, but you’re going to be fine.”

  He raises his hand and rubs the knot on his head.

  “You fell and hit your head. Do you remember anything?” Will asks.

  “I remember walking up the stairs and feeling a little light-headed.”

  “Were you having any pain?”

  “Not pain, but a slight pressure in my chest.”

  “They fixed you all up.” I rub his shoulder and tears fill his eyes.

  “I do remember one other thing,” he says as his lip quivers. “Alice was there. She kept telling me to get off the floor. She said there was someone that I needed to meet. I loved the woman, but she could be crazier than a sack full of raccoons. I have no idea what she was going on about.”

  “Alice,” I whisper. “I heard her over the wind call your name. I knew something was wrong.”

  “You two do know Alice isn’t alive, right?” Will says with raised eyebrows.

  We both say in unison, “I heard her voice.”

  Hank continues. “I didn’t want to come back. I wanted to stay with her, but she kept telling me it wasn’t time yet.”

  “I believe you. I know I heard a woman's voice saying your name when we were sitting on the beach. It had to be Alice. She’s the one that saved you, Hank.”

  “I don’t know that I believe in all that mumbo jumbo, but I’m glad you’re alive,” Will says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Look, you’re not going to be able to work in the market for a few weeks. You have to take it easy.”

  “I can’t close the shop. The people in this town count on me being open.”

  “Will and I will run it for you. I don’t want you to worry about a thing,” I say.

  “Have you ever worked in a store?” Hank asks.

  “No, but I’m sure you’re going to be sitting in a chair telling us what to do.” I look up at Will, hoping he’s supporting me.

  “I think between the three of us, we can handle it.” Will laughs.

  Two days later, sure enough, Hank is sitting behind the counter at the market supervising us. I hadn’t realized how busy his little store gets during the day. Several women from the town have dropped off baked goods for Hank. One of the ladies even flirts with him, but he’s clueless to her touching him every chance she gets.

  “I think Shirley has a thing for you, Hank,” I tease when she shuts the screen door behind her, but not before turning and smiling back at him.

  He runs a hand through his gray mop of hair. “There is only one woman for me,” he says, but I catch him watching her walk away.

  “I don’t think Alice would want you to be alone the rest of your life.”

  He looks up at me like he’s never even considered it before. “Do you think Shirley really likes me?”

  “Okay, killer, I think you need to recover fully before you even consider what Shirley wants from you.” Will chuckles.

  “Will, you’re awful. They can just be friends.” I slap him in the chest.

  He leans forward and speaks in my ear. “At his age, there is no time for friendship.”

  “You are bad. Don’
t go giving him any ideas.” I laugh.

  “Don’t worry, dear, I have no interest in anyone but Alice. I’m only teasing with you. I’ve known for a long time that Shirley likes me.”

  “I’m done with the two of you.” I point my finger between the two of them, and they both snort in laughter.

  As the last customer is leaving and I’m flipping over the closed sign, I see an unexpected familiar face getting out of a limo. “Uh…Will, were you expecting a visitor?”

  He walks over and stands beside me. “How the hell did he know where to find me?”

  “I’m guessing your mother.”

  “Help Hank upstairs. I’ll handle this.”

  I take Hank by the elbow and help him up. He keeps looking over his shoulder and grumbles something all the way up the stairs. Once he’s settled onto the couch, I quietly trickle midway down the stairs like a slow leak.

  “Why are you here?” Will’s words are sharp as a tack.

  “I was passing through, and I wanted to see for my own eyes. Your mother told me you were lending a hand to someone in need.” He looks around the market with his nose in the air. “Why aren’t you in New York running your business?” His tone is tinged with anger.

  “Don’t worry about my business. It’s being taken care of.” I can hear the anger building in his voice.

  “You followed that girl here, didn’t you?”

  “That girl has a name. It’s Maggie.”

  “Ah, Ms. Harper, the elementary school teacher.” He laughs sarcastically. “You should be in Savannah trying to make up with Phoebe.” My name comes out like something sour against his tongue, sharp and jagged. It makes me cringe, and I can only imagine what it tasted like to Will.

  She’s getting married, Dad, in case you haven’t heard.”

  “I happen to know she would take you back if you would apologize for your…indiscretion.”

  I hear Will’s shoes pad across the tile floor and then a loud thud like fists slamming on the counter. “How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t cheat on her. She was in love with Patrick. Not me!” His thunderous voice echoes through the store.