by Jordan Marie
“Fucking hell, I fucked you while you were sleeping?”
“What? Of course not. You did get the ball rolling though. Once I got alert though, I was enjoying it too much to stop…”
“Wait. Babe hold up. How the hell did I get you going while you were asleep? Did I do you in the middle of a bar somewhere?”
“Oh no… it was a bed.”
“How? How did I get in your bed?”
“Oh…”
Again she blinks twice. Is it a nervous habit?
“I fell asleep without locking the door to my room at the motel I was staying at. You were so drunk you thought it was your room. You came inside… things got out of hand, really. No one should be blamed. I mean, least of all me who fell asleep innocently! It’s not like I was looking to seduce you.”
“Jesus H. Christ.”
“If it makes you feel better, you were really good at it.”
“Is that why you stayed with me? Because of how good my dick was?”
“Well, it was really good… of course that was before it became… broken.”
“I think I’m done talking about the past now.”
“Are you sure? I’m here to answer questions, Aden. Anything you need.”
“I need a drink and I’m thinking something stronger than water, babe.”
“If I get a vote, I’m not digging the babe thing. Maybe you could call me pumpkin? That’s cute.”
I grunt and walk off, leaving her calling my name behind me.
29
Hope
“Babe, where do we keep the wood glue?” Aden calls from the bedroom. Jack’s sitting in the living room watching his favorite cartoon, and me? I’m feeling like I’ve fallen through the rabbit hole.
“It’s in the kitchen sink drawer,” I answer, holding my face away from the phone.
“Did he just call you babe?” Daria asks, making me sigh.
“Yeah. I’ve tried to discourage him, but he says he’s trying it out for size. Whatever that means.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I tried to get him to call me darling, but that didn’t work.”
“Darling?”
“Yeah. Like those dreamy heroes in the movies from the 1950’s?”
“Girl, no man with balls is going to call a girl darling these days. Unless maybe he’s from the South and it’s going to sound much more like darlin’ with a twang.”
“Whatever.”
“I take it, since it’s almost Jack’s bedtime and Aden is still in your house, not in his motel room, or screaming at your door with the police, that you haven’t told him the truth yet.”
“I’ve tried,” I defend, basically lying. But, I’ve tried to tell him parts of the truth all week long and I should definitely get points for that.
“You’ve tried?”
“Yeah, I did. Earlier this week, I even told him how we slept together and included the fact that he was drunk and I was drugged.”
“Umm…honey, I’ve never been so drugged that I didn’t know if a man was…”
“I wasn’t… but damn Daria, it had been two years and he’s sexy in a jackass-but-still-hot kind of way.”
“Hey girl, I’m not judging. So, when are you going to tell him the truth?”
“Soon…”
“Hope—”
“I am Daria! I promise. It’s just… to be honest, and trust me I know how horrible this sounds, but…”
“But?”
“It’s been a really good week,” I whisper guiltily. And it has. Aden has been here for a full week. The motel looks amazing. We’ve moved into a routine where I watch Jack and he works on small things that need fixed. Then, he’ll watch Jack and I’ll clean… and sometimes Aden and I both will work outside while Jack plays in his new sandbox… a sandbox that Aden made him. Aden didn’t do it because I asked. He did it because he found sand from something the contractors did. It was the kind that was safe for kids, so Aden took it along with some of the left over treated lumber he used to fix the railing with and…
He made a sandbox for my son.
My son has never had anyone do something for him because they wanted to—except me. And Aden fixed him a sandbox…just because he wanted to surprise Jack.
“Hope, honey, you know I love you.”
“I know.”
“The longer you wait to tell him, the worse the fall out is going to be, girl. You have to tell him. Think of it like ripping a band-aid off.”
“I just…can I have this weekend?”
“What happens if someone comes looking for him? I’m not trying to be a pain, honey. I’m just…really worried about you.”
“I know. I do. I’ll tell him tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay. If you need a place to crash a few days. Come over. I miss seeing little Jack anyway.”
“I will. Love you Dar.”
“Love you too.”
“Tell me what?” Aden asks.
I blink a couple of times from shock. I didn’t expect Aden to be standing there.
“I… did you find the glue?”
“Yeah. What do you have to tell me?”
“Tell you?”
“I heard you tell Daria that you would tell me tomorrow. What are you going to tell me?”
“I could have been talking about someone else, you know. It didn’t have to mean you.”
“Was it someone else?”
“Well no,” I sigh and the sigh only deepens when Aden smiles.
This is a new Aden. An Aden that I never knew, and it’s an Aden that I’ve been treated to for a solid week. An Aden who is thoughtful, funny and sweet and yeah he can still be a grouch and a little hateful at times, but those times are not that often and when they happen…they’re kind of sexy.
He also has a really good smile. The kind that makes the little lines along the sides of his eyes crinkle and sometimes his dark eyes get a light in them that remind me of warm, melted chocolate. Which is why I’m caught staring at him right now, unable to think of anything else.
“Hope?” he prompts.
“Yeah?”
“What were you going to tell me?”
“You have a really nice smile.”
This is the moment that will always stay with me—like, for the rest of my life. Because it’s the moment I find out that Aden’s smile cannot touch Aden’s laugh. He laughs out loud and it’s like a one-two punch. I get the laugh and the smile—and they’re beautiful.
In moments like right now, it would be good if I reminded myself of what a dick the old Aden was. I need to try and remember that.
“Babe, what were you going to tell me?”
“Have you thought anymore about calling me pumpkin?”
“Uh…no. Don’t think that one’s going to happen.”
“I’m really not sure I like the babe,” I mutter, and I’m lying. I do like it. In fact, I remember him calling me that the night we slept together. The first time we had sex, we went to sleep. But he woke me up later that night. I was on my stomach and I remember him kissing my shoulder. I remember him brushing my hair to the side and I definitely remember his sleepy voice whispering in my ear.
“Babe, I got to have you again.”
I’ll never be able to forget that moment. It will live with me forever. I wake up thinking about it, I go to sleep thinking about it, and somewhere in the night, I get lost in dreams of it.
“Hope, you’re starting to fuck with my head here.”
I blink. If he only knew.
“What?” I whisper, panic filling me.
Did I give myself away? Does he know something? Oh God! Did he remember?
“You’re freaking me out. What do you need to tell me?”
“Oh…” Now is the moment. I need to tell him. It’s right there on the tip of my tongue. It’s time to come clean. Daria is right, I need to just rip off the band-aid and tell him the truth.
“Aden…”
“What?” he asks and this time it’s that exaspe
rated tone that I remember from before, and one that I’ve forgotten this week, but not that often.
“Sometimes people do things out of fear, you know? Like, they can have the best of intentions, but they’re afraid to tell the truth. Afraid of the consequences, really, and you know sometimes things happen that are beyond our control. Right? Like, you mean to do something, but time gets away from you and you just forget. It’s not done intentionally at all and then something happens and reminds you that you didn’t do it and things go all bad and…”
“Hope. Stop.”
“…you don’t know what to do about it, so you keep quiet and… What?”
“You’re freaking me out, Babe. Just come out with it,” he says and that’s the moment I know for sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’m unequivocally, going to Hell.
Going. To. Hell.
“I forgot your birthday.”
“Say what?”
“Your birthday. I forgot it. It was the day you fell and then you fell…so there could be no birthday festivities…”
“Festivities?” he laughs.
“Anyway,” I breathe out, pretending to be annoyed because, yet again, he’s being cute. “Then you were in the hospital and then you didn’t know who I was and then…”
“Babe, take a breath. Okay, so you forgot my birthday. Is that a big deal?”
“It is! This is a big birthday. A milestone really. We need to celebrate.”
“The motel’s grand opening is in two days,” he reminds me, and it is. He talked me into waiting and asking the local radio station and paper to promote the motel, so we set an official date. We had kind of kept our doors open during that time, but sadly no one magically showed up at the door.
“But we’re ready for the opening and Aden! It’s a—”
“Milestone,” he sighs. “Fine. We’ll do something tomorrow. You can bake a cake or something.”
“I’ll plan something special! Don’t worry. I’m really sorry I forgot.”
“Considering everything I’ve forgotten I don’t think it matters that much, Hope. I’m going to head on over to my room,” he says.
“Okay. Have a good night,” I tell him. He looks at me strangely.
“We’re going to have to have a real talk sometime soon, Hope,” he warns me and I get a funny feeling in my stomach. Real talks with someone you’re lying too like a lying, liar, mc-lying pants is bad. I’ve never had the occasion arise before, but I’m pretty sure I’m one hundred percent correct on that one.
“I’m always here to answer questions,” I tell him quietly, afraid he might take me up on it.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mumbles behind his hand while he rubs his jaw.
“What?” I ask confused.
“How old am I?” he asks.
I blink. Why didn’t I demand his ID when he showed up at the motel? Better yet—where is that damn ID? Surely he didn’t travel and drive without a driver’s license.
“Hope?” he prompts again.
“Fifty.”
“What?” he growls and this is a real growl. It’s the bear-hurt-in-a-trap growl. It’s the run for your life, you’re approaching the danger zone kind of growl.
“You’re… uh fifty.”
“Fuc—”
“Aden! Little ears!” We both turn to look at Jack who has fallen asleep watching Trolls.
“You’re telling me I’m fifty-years-old?” he hisses.
“Well, yeah. That’s not old you know. George Strait will be like seventy. He may already be. You have a lot of good years left in you,” I tell him, trying to make him feel better. I really have no idea how old he is. I’m guessing he’s closer to forty than fifty, but I think he’s definitely past forty, I didn’t mean to offend him. I was just rounding up.
“How old are you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, Hope. If I’m fifty, then how old are you?”
“A gentleman is never supposed to ask a woman how old she is, Aden. It’s considered rude.”
“How old are you, Hope?” he asks again, and there’s not a doubt in my mind that his voice has a warning quality to it now.
I really should have gone with forty.
“I’m twenty-six,” I tell him with a frown.
“You’re twenty-six,” he repeats in a whisper. “You’re twenty-six and I’m fifty and you don’t see a problem with this?” he growls.
“Age is just a number. We get along great…well we did... Until….”
“I don’t want to know. I’m leaving before you can tell me something else and make me want to slit my wrists,” he mumbles, and then, just like that, he turns and leaves, leaving me to stare after him and wonder what I can do for his pretend birthday tomorrow.
Well that, and wondering just when I’m going to reach the point that I tell so many lies I can’t keep them straight and they all explode…
Right. In. My. Face.
30
Aden
“This was nice, Hope.”
I look at the woman sitting on the sofa across from me and she’s still a mystery. I’m married to her, supposedly, but for the most part nothing about our relationship seems like we’re married. I’ve been here a week now, and tomorrow the motel opens for business and I feel like… a visitor. I definitely don’t feel like I’m married and as cute as Jack is and as much as I care for him… I feel like I’m on the outside looking in at the two of them. I can see everything I’m supposed to be a part of, everything I kind of want… and yet I don’t feel a part of them.
I have so many questions, so many things that I want answered or explained. I haven’t pushed it. Primarily because every time I do, Hope’s answers scare the hell out of me. I know it’s way past time that I get some real answers, however. I had planned on sitting down with Hope and getting the answers to those questions tonight. Then, I showed up and she had dinner fixed and a homemade birthday cake—chocolate, which was amazing. I know money has to be tight. I know this because in the week that I’ve been here, Hope is cleaning houses for people in town to supplement our income, and yet, she took time out of her busy schedule—not to mention money out of her budget—to make me a special dinner of steaks, salads and baked potatoes to go with the birthday cake.
The fact that she’s cleaning houses and paying the bills, while I’m doing nothing, makes me feel like shit. I’m starting to pray I never get my memory back. I don’t want to wake up and be that man again. The old man who gets drunk and hangs on the side of a woman like Hope, taking and taking and giving nothing back.
I’ve thought about walking away. I’d be doing Hope a favor. One thing stops me. It makes me a selfish bastard, but it’s the truth.
I remember her.
I don’t mean that I have memories, but I have…feelings. I can remember how she tastes, the sounds she makes during sex, and the smell of her…. Fuck. The scent of vanilla is driving me crazy. When she’s looking at me, it’s… familiar. When she says my name, I know in my heart I’ve heard it before.
So, I’m still here. Because I can’t just walk away. Which means I’m going to have to get some answers soon. Things are going to have to start changing because… I can’t keep going like I am. I feel like I’m in a dark room, blindfolded, and unsure of the first step I need to take.
“It’s not over yet.”
“It’s not?” I ask surprised.
“Jack’s asleep so I thought…since it’s your birthday and all, we could watch something besides cartoons on the television.
“What are we watching?”
“I have a horrible confession, Aden. I don’t watch movies.”
“What?”
“Don’t laugh but… I hate television and movies. I’m a reader. I read. That’s what I do.”
“I see, and you’re telling me this… Because?”
“The last movie I watched was an old DVD that I got at the flea market for a dollar. I loved it though and sometimes I watch it after Jack goes to sleep.
”
“I never watched it with you?”
“What?” she asks, blinking.
“I didn’t watch the movie with you?”
“Well, usually by the time I crash and watch it you’re gone…”
“I see,” I mumble. “So, what’s the name of the movie?”
“Die Hard!” she says excitedly.
“Die Hard?”
“I know you probably don’t remember it, but it’s amazing and Bruce Willis is the greatest male actor ever. Seriously! He can’t make a bad movie.”
“He’s an asshole. He’s rude to everyone,” I growl and then, when I realize what I’ve said, my body goes completely still.
“Aden? Do you remember Bruce Willis movies?” Hope asks, confused, and sure enough that frown is on her forehead again. Standing up and acting on impulse, I reach over and rub the pad of my thumb across the small indention.
“I’ve probably read it somewhere or something. It’s funny the things I can remember and the things I can’t,” I shrug—for some reason however, that doesn’t feel completely honest. Something about just the name Bruce Willis makes me feel like maybe I know him. Which is crazy. I’m sure nowhere in the history of the world does someone like me rub elbows with the Hollywood elite.
“Oh… We don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to,” she says softly.
“I can think of nothing I’d like more than to spend time with you, Hope,” I tell her, and that at least is completely honest.
“You’re being very sweet,” she whispers. “I’m really not used to sweet Aden. I don’t think I’m prepared.”
“I’ll go slow,” I wink, and I sit down beside her on the couch.
She tenses up a little when I sit down and I feel like a damn kid. I’m supposed to be married to this girl, but it’s almost as if we are strangers. That’s something I want to change. It’s something I need to change, because there has to be something between us besides this. If there wasn’t I wouldn’t remember her like I do… Would I?
She messes around with the DVD player and the television. I find myself staring at her ass as she’s bent over in front of me. My dick jerks against the zipper in my pants. The old Aden might have needed help to get his motor running, but apparently this one doesn’t.