I may have overdone it in the suit!
Then my stomach clenches and I have to open the door and lean out as all the contents of my stomach come out. With a moan, I lie my head back and feel as if the world is spinning.
Crap! The virus has hit me!
* * *
Sitting perfectly still to try to stop my head from spinning, I find myself unbuttoning my long sleeve shirt and opening it to let the cool air in to help my body cool off that feels way too hot.
“This isn’t normal,” I say to myself. “I can’t drive like this.”
So I make the call to Zeek. “Hey, bro. Sup?” he answers.
“I need you to get someone to come with you. I’m going to send you the place I’m at and I need you to come get me and someone will have to drive my car home,” I say then feel my stomach lurch again and open the door and puke like I don’t recall puking before.
“Have you been drinking, Jude?” Zeek asks. “It’s like three in the afternoon, dude. So not cool!”
“No,” I say as I reach into the glove compartment for something to wipe my mouth with. “I have a virus. Mercy had one and I kissed her. What an idiot I am!”
“Shit, man. You sound awful,” Zeek says. “I’m coming for you, bro. Don’t try to drive. Rose’s boyfriend is here. I’ll bring him with me.”
“What?” I say. “That little user. Fuck that, Zeek. Not him”
“Sorry, bro. No one else is home. So you really have no choice. You can let him drive your car.”
I cut him off. “No fucking way, Zeek.”
“Or I can drive your car and you can ride in mine with him,” he finishes what he was saying.
“I don’t even want to spend five minutes with the little British cock-sucker,” I say then another wave hits me and I have to open the door to puke again.
“Chill, Jude. We’re on our way,” Zeek says then hangs up.
* * *
After I get rid of things I didn’t even know were still inside of me, I lie the seat back and breathe heavily. As my head swims, I think about my poor, poor Mercy and how she must be so sick she can’t even see the text I sent her to be able to answer me.
Then it hits me that I’m a selfish asshole who needs to be shot. Why did I send her that text at this time in her life?
She’s sick! She really is. And now so am I.
I call her and almost cry when I hear her answer, “Jude?”
“Honey, please tell me you didn’t read the text I sent you.” I burp and it tastes awful and almost sends me into another round of barfing.
“No, I don’t really like to open my eyes. They burn too bad when I do. I’m sorry. Here, I’ll read it now,” she says.
“No!” I shout and feel bad that I did that because it really hurts my head. “Don’t read it. Delete it. I was being a selfish, fucking asshole when I wrote it. Ignore it. I didn’t mean any of it.”
“What was it about?” she asks, sounding weak as hell and making me feel like complete shit.
“It was about me being the spoiled brat you tell me I have been on occasion,” I say as I laugh then stop because it fucking hurts to laugh.
“Oh, Jude, what did you text me?” she asks and I can hear the disappointment in her voice.
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” I say. “I’ll come clean even if you won’t. I asked you if you wanted me to leave you alone, forever.” I wait a beat. “But I don’t care if you do because I can’t leave you alone, baby. I love you, Mercy. I fucking love your ass. I mean it.”
“Jude, are you drunk?” she asks me.
I laugh and stop very quickly. “No. You gave me your virus. You, nasty girl. But I love you, I really do.”
“If I gave you this virus then your mind is about like when you’re drunk so I won’t hold you to what you're blurting out right now,” she says.
“So you won’t tell me that you love me, Mercy?” I ask as I close my eyes to make the world stop spinning.
“Jude?” she asks and I open my eyes and try hard to focus because I’d like to recall everything if she’s about to confess her love for me. “When I tell you those words, I’d like to see your face.”
“Oh!”
It’s not exactly what I wanted to hear but kind of close. “This feeling sucks, Mercy.”
“The virus or what?” she asks.
“All of it. Why can’t you tell me what you’re hiding? I swear to God I won’t judge you. I mean it. Just tell me, baby. I can take anything.” I belch then add. “Even if it’s that you have a man.”
My heart stops as I wait to see if the virus will make an honest woman out of her. “It’s not a man.”
Then what the fuck is it?
Mercy
Jude’s words are still ringing in my ears. I can’t believe he told me that he loves me!
And I have no idea how I’m going to be able to get him to allow me the space I need to keep my family life separate from him. He’s more than persistent. He’s what I would call obsessive.
He’s managed to gain a place at where I work in just a matter of days for the love of God!
What the hell am I supposed to do about that? How can I continue to keep him away from my home and the kids if he’s insisting on getting close? How can I tell him that whether he loves me or not doesn’t matter, I still can’t give him any more than I already am?
The kids slept in my bed with me. They wanted to cuddle with me to make me feel better. The little sweethearts. It helped too.
I feel a lot better. Weak as hell, but much better. The doctor was wrong about one thing. The virus lasted only twelve hours instead of twenty-four, a thing I’m grateful for.
His diagnosis of me taking too much on by myself is probably right but I’m not about to change anything about that yet. I made it through this two days of hell all alone with them, I can take more.
Not that I’m asking for more!
It’s five in the morning and I’m trying to decide if I should get up and try to go to work or take a sick day. I deserve a sick day. I have never taken one in the two years I’ve been at the spa.
Carter rolls over and slaps me in the face with his little hand. It might be small but damn it, it still hurts. I roll over and shield my face from the kid and find myself looking at my niece, Mia.
Her soft curls are in a perfect nappy mess around her chubby, round face. Her little rosebud lips are pursed as if she’s ready for a kiss. My heart fills with the love I have for her and I kiss her cheek.
My decision is made. I’m staying home with the kids all day. We can order in some Chinese food for lunch and I’ll get some egg drop soup for us all to help build us back up.
* * *
Sure, it’s not Mom’s homemade chicken noodle but it’ll do in a pinch. I think I need to learn how to cook better. I certainly need to learn how to make that soup.
My cell phone lights up. So I sneak out of bed, careful not to wake the kids up and get my phone and head to the living room. Picking up my bottle of water, I head out and look at the phone which shows me that Jude’s awake and texting.
I settle on the sofa and take a drink of water then wrap myself in the throw that’s laying on it. It seems he’s doing better and wants to know how I’m doing so I call him.
He likes to hear my voice and I have to admit I like to hear his too.
He answers, “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hey, you,” I say with a smile plastered on my lips.
He sounds a little sleepy and sexy as hell. I bet he looks like a hot mess and man how I’d love to be cuddled up with him right now.
“Thanks for the virus,” he says with a chuckle. “It’s the first thing you’ve given me.”
“You are so welcome. I’m glad it was a short one.” I take another drink of water. “You are getting plenty of liquids, aren’t you?”
“I have a mini fridge in here. I need a nurse, though. You think if I sent someone for you, you could come and hang out with me today? You know you’re not going i
nto work.”
Man, how nice that would be. Laying around with him all day!
“Can’t,” I say.
“I see,” he says then gets quiet.
That kind of quiet that’s full of tension. I know he wants to ask me why but maybe he won’t since I’m still weak. I cross my fingers just to be safe.
To change the topic, I ask, “So, do you still love me, Jude?”
He chuckles again, sounding deep, manly, rugged, and sexy. “You recall that, huh?”
“I do.” I laugh to let him know I know he was out of it. “The things you say when you think you’re about to die, huh?”
“Mercy, I know I said it in a fevered fit, but I still have the same feelings. I do love you.”
I let that hang in the air for a moment then say, “Jude, we don’t even really know each other to make that kind of a statement yet.”
“Mercy, if you think I throw that little phrase around a lot I want you to know that I don’t,” he says. “And I don’t even want you to say it back until you mean it. But I want you to know that I love you. I have so many plans for us, it’s not even funny.”
It’s not funny nor possible!
“Jude, don’t make plans where I’m involved. You know when I’m available and when I’m not. Just because you said you love me doesn’t change that one bit,” I let him know.
“Maybe not to you. Maybe not yet. But it’s changed something inside of me. I don’t think I’ve ever really loved a woman before. I know I’ve never thought about any woman as much as I think about you. You tore up my dreams last night, girl. You were all up in them. And that’s how I want life to be from now on. I want you all up in my life. Every aspect of it.”
“Jude,” I say, stopping him. “That’s very nice to hear. It really is. If things were different, well, I’d love to hear you say those words. But things aren’t different. So, for now can we just take things slow?”
His silence worries the hell out of me. Can he let this thing between us go slow?
Jude
After a day of recuperation, I’m ready to get back on track and get this thing with Mercy going. She only talked to me twice yesterday because she said she was busy with sleeping and trying to get well. But she never sounded sleepy.
I’m taking Zeek’s car to the spa this morning so mine can be cleaned up. It reeks of puke and I can’t take that. His windows are tinted to the maximum darkness they can legally be so I look out my window at the car that’s pulling up next to me at the stop light.
It’s a black Suburban and I do a double take as I swear its Mercy driving. She’s talking to somebody and looking back. I can’t see through the darkly tinted passenger window to see who she’s talking too. But I do see that she isn’t noticing me at all.
I drop back behind her as we leave the light and follow her. Now I’m sure to find out what she’s been hiding!
Only three blocks up, she turns and I stay back far enough so she doesn’t figure out I’m following her. Then she takes a sharp right into a fenced in parking lot.
Parking across the street, I watch her as she gets out of the car and goes to the passenger door right behind the driver’s seat. I look at the sign of the little yellow building with the red roof and see that it’s a daycare facility.
Maybe she’s dropping off some neighbor’s kids.
She opens the door and it takes her some time to get the kid out. Then out comes a little boy. She takes his hand then goes around to the other side and I can’t see what she’s doing.
After a minute or so, I see her walking up the sidewalk. The little boy is walking beside her, holding her hand and she’s carrying a little girl.
The little girl has blonde hair just like Mercy’s, only the girl’s is really curly. A woman opens the door for her. Mercy kisses the girl on the cheek then hands her to the lady. Then she kneels down a little and kisses the little boy on the top of his head and pats him on the shoulder and says something to him.
I roll my window down to see if I can hear anything. Then I hear her voice as she waves and turns to walk back to the car, “I love you two. Be good. I’ll be here at six to get you.”
That’s not the way anyone talks to a neighbor’s or friend’s kids, is it?
Mercy has kids! And she lied to me when I asked her that question!
Why would she lie to me?
* * *
Following her to the spa, I can’t even think about what I’m going to say to her. She lied to me!
I’m too pissed to face her right now, so I take the next left and change my plans for the day. I won’t be going to the spa today. I have no idea if I’ll be able to contain my pissed off state.
Instead, I think I need some more information and I think I might know how to get that. Mercy may not be willing to let me in on why she’s hiding those kids from me, but there’s more than one way to skin a cat.
A little phone call has me well on my way to finding out what her deal is. “Hi, I was wondering if you would be willing to accept a donation of children’s books.”
The woman answers enthusiastically, “Of course!”
I thought so. “Can I bring them by this morning?”
“That would be great. Anytime will be fine. Just ring the bell and I can come check your ID and let you inside. Your name is?” she asks.
“Jude Hurst,” I tell her.
Quickly, she asks, “Oh! Of Hurst Oil and Gas?”
“Yes, mam. Our company is helping out some of Dallas’ daycares and I picked yours.”
She squeals with delight. “Will the news media be with you?”
“No, this isn’t a public outreach program. This is private. Very private. What are your policies on reading to the kids?” I ask as my wheels are turning in my head as I’m trying to figure out how I can get to talk to at least that little boy who seems like he’s old enough to be able to carry on at least a little bit of a conversation.
“If you’re talking about you reading to them, that will be fine. Your reputation is very public. You have no criminal history and that’s what we care about. So when can we expect you? I’ll set up a little reading time today if you want.”
“How about around nine. I’ll bring some fruit trays so the kids can snack while I read them a few stories. I really love children,” I say as I head out to a bookstore to load up on some books.
“That sounds wonderful!” she gushes. “See you then.”
As I drive down the road I get the sudden urge to give Mercy one more chance to come clean with me before I go all undercover on her. She answers her phone, “Good morning, Jude. Will I be seeing you this morning?”
“No,” I say. “I have things to do this morning.”
“Oh! Okay. This afternoon then?” she asks, sounding a little disappointed.
Well, so am I!
“I’m not sure yet. Mercy, are you sure you don’t want to tell me why you are so busy? You know, the real reason why you can’t do more with me or let me come to your house?”
“Jude, for God’s sake, let it go. Crap!”
She sounds exasperated and now I am too. I mean, damn! I told her kids were not a deal breaker so what the hell is her problem?
“Fine, Mercy! Forgive me for giving a fuck about you!”
“I’m sorry, Jude,” she says as her voice goes very soft. “Call me when you figure out if you’re coming to the spa today or not. Okay?”
“I will,” I tell her then hang up.
Why the hell would she hide her kids from me? Or is there more than kids she’s hiding?
Protective Urges Part 6
Jude
Carrying a box full of children’s books, I ring the bell outside of the daycare and find a young, dark haired woman answering the door. She’s all smiles as she looks at me through the glass window then I hear a buzzer and the door opens. “You have to be Mr. Hurst.”
“I am,” I say as I go inside. “And you are?”
“The kids call me, Miss Abigail,” she
says as she leads me down the hallway. “Follow me. I have the older kids in the reading room and they’re pretty excited about the new books.”
As we walk into the room, the kids jump up and down and cheer as if I was carrying in toys for them all. But all I can do is scan them all for the little boy who has on a Spiderman shirt and a pair of khaki shorts and short blonde hair. The one I saw with Mercy early this morning.
It would be great if I knew his name too as I see three little boys wearing similar outfits, all of them have short blonde hair too. Crap!
I did not see this coming. So I adjust my plan and place the box on the table the young lady is gesturing to. “Here you go,” I say as the kids rush to the box.
“Hold on kids,” Miss Abigail shouts. “First things first. What do we have to say to Mr. Hurst for giving you all these books?”
“Thank you, Mr. Hurst,” they all yell at the top of their lungs.
One of the little blonde, Spiderman shirt wearing boys hugs my leg and looks up at me. I run my hand over his head and see no resemblance to Mercy but give the kid a smile anyway.
“Thanks for the hug. What’s your name?” I ask as I pat his head like a dog and stop because that just seems wrong.
“Hank,” he says then lets me go. He points to the other two who also have on the shirts. “These are my best pals, Cody and Carter. We all wanted to match today.” He tugs at his shirt.
I wave at the other boys and ask, “So, who wants to pick out a book for me to read?”
The kid named Cody raises his hand and the kid named Carter takes a seat. His eyes are a little glassy and he has slightly dark circles underneath his little blue eyes.
Mercy has blue eyes and if she had that virus I bet her kids did too. So I ask the kid named Carter, “Hey, man. You feeling okay, buddy?”
He nods and looks down. He’s shy too and quiet and the way he moves his arms to cross over his chest reminds me of how Mercy does that all too often.
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