by J. L. Berg
“We’ve done this many times before, so I feel like I’m repeating myself. I’m just going to tell you to be careful, Lailah. Take care of yourself. Don’t be overly ambitious and find yourself back in this room. You might not believe me, considering how protective your mother and I have been over the years, but I really do want you to have a life outside of here.”
She looked up at him from her position on the bed. Her legs were crossed, and I could see the wheels turning in her head as she considered what to say in response.
“Thank you…” she responded. “I don’t even know what to call you anymore.”
“How about Marcus? Can we start with that?”
She nodded, and I saw the briefest smile pass between her lips before she sobered once again.
“What exactly is going on between you and my mother?”
Marcus let out a lingering sigh as he leaned up against the wall. He looked tired. His salt-and-pepper hair that usually made him look suave and sophisticated now only served to accentuate the lines and dark circles under his eyes.
“The same thing that has been going on between us for twenty-two years. I get too close, and she pushes me away. She refuses to acknowledge that there’s anything between us, and I’m foolish enough to keep trying to convince her otherwise.”
“You love her,” she said softly, looking up at the man who could have been her father if things had been different, if life had been different.
“Every day since the first day I laid eyes on her,” he said with such conviction that it made my heart constrict in pain for him.
The CNA arrived, a guy I knew from the day shift, to help escort Lailah to the parking lot, and she stood, facing Marcus with uncertainty.
Finally, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Don’t give up on her, Marcus.”
Heavy with emotion, his eyes squeezed shut as he held the girl he’d loved as his own. “I’ll never give up—on either of you.”
I gathered up Lailah’s belongings and helped her settle into the wheelchair. We said brief good-byes to Marcus, promising to check in once a week, and then we headed for the door.
“Jude?” Marcus called on our way out.
I turned and found him standing in the same spot by the bed, watching us leave.
“Take care of our girl.”
“I’ll guard her with my life,” I vowed.
“I know you will. Take care, J-Man.”
I caught up with Lailah, who was halfway down the hallway with the CNA, chatting about the beautiful weather. We made our way downstairs, and within three minutes, we were stepping outside.
I thanked the guy, glancing down at his name tag to catch his name, and I helped Lailah up from the wheelchair. “We got it from here, Adam,” I said before turning to Lailah with a wink.
She looked around, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath of fresh air as it breezed past her.
“I’m free!” she squealed.
“Well then, why are we standing around and wasting time? Let’s get the hell out of here!” I laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her in the direction of my car.
“I’m sorry it’s not that great-looking, but it runs,” I said, regarding the less than stellar state of my car, which had probably seen more birthdays than she had.
“It’s green!” she exclaimed.
I threw her bags into the trunk. “Yep, split-pea, baby-shit green.”
“Eww…gross. Why did you have to ruin split-pea soup for me?” She laughed as we got in.
“Well, that is a color!”
“I think we should name it,” she declared.
I turned the key. “The color? I thought I just did.” I pulled out of the parking spot and drove the short distance out of the hospital.
We were officially free.
“No.” She laughed. “The car. Cars that are baby-shit green need to have a name.”
I turned my head with a look of mock surprise and shock. “Did I just hear you curse? I don’t think I’ve ever heard a bad word leave those pretty little lips of yours before in my life. Two seconds out of the hospital, and you’re already swearing like a sailor! I think I’m having a bad effect on you.”
She stuck out her tongue and laughed. “I’ve cursed before—in my head and maybe once or twice out loud,” she said, grinning. “You’re changing the subject. From this day forward, I hereby do so-eth—”
“Do so-eth?” I couldn’t help but ask.
She was literally vibrating with excitement. Being out of the hospital had awoken her spirit and had breathed fresh new life into her lungs.
“Shut up! It’s my fancy car dubbing speech. I’m supposed to sound like Shakespeare.”
“Oh, sorry,” I faked a cough as we turned west. “Go on. You do so-eth?”
“I hereby name this car, um…” She looked around, searching, and finally her eyes grew wide. “Yertle the Turtle!”
She was so proud of herself that she didn’t even notice where we were when I pulled the car to a stop.
“Very clever, Sam I Am.” I laughed. “But Yertle the Turtle was blue.”
“He was not!”
“He was,” I urged. “In the book illustrations, he’s blue.”
She looked over at me with her arms folded over her chest. “How the heck do you even know that?”
“My mom used to read to us a lot when I was little.” I shrugged. “And I’m smart,” I added with a grin, tapping on my temple.
“Well, whatever. We’re calling it Yertle, even if it isn’t blue. Now, where are we? And what are we doing?” she asked, looking up. She gasped when her eyes took in the panoramic view of the ocean.
“We’re going to put your toes in the ocean.”
I HADN’T LIVED my life completely in a box.
Living in Southern California my entire life, I had seen the ocean from time to time as we drove around the city. But sitting there in Jude’s car, seeing the turquoise water sparkle endlessly before me, I felt like I was seeing it for the first time. My gaze wandered down to the long stretch of sand standing between me and the gentle waves lapping at the coast.
I turned to him. “How? I don’t know if I can make it through all that thick sand without having breathing problems or getting too tired,” I admitted, hating my limitations and weakness.
“I’m going to carry you,” he simply stated.
“The entire way? In the sand?”
“Yep. Now, come on, let’s go!”
He pushed open his door and jumped out, and I was left staring at an empty seat. Moments later, he was opening my car door, grinning.
“The water isn’t going to make it all the way up here.” He held out his hand.
I reached out and took it.
“But that’s a long way to carry me, Jude,” I said.
He gave me a dubious, amused expression. “You weigh about as much as a box of Cracker Jacks, and in case you didn’t notice during all those times when you had your hands shoved up my shirt, I’m in good shape.”
His wink that followed was what sent my cheeks aflame, and I couldn’t contain the laughter that sprang forth when he lifted me into his arms.
“See? Piece of cake. Now, if you’re done complaining, I think we have something to do.”
I nodded excitedly, wrapping my hands around his neck, as he cradled me, and we took off down toward the sand.
“Where is everyone? I thought California beaches were always packed,” I said, looking around at the very empty beach.
Only a few surfers dotted the shoreline, carrying boards to and from the beach.
“It’s early still. The beach will start to fill up in the next hour or two, which is why I wanted to come now. I thought it would be nicer to be here without a thousand people running around.”
Gazing up and down the long beach, I smiled. “Yeah, it’s peaceful now. I like it.”
The sand changed from light to dark as the waves grew closer.
“Can I walk t
he rest of the way?” I asked, eager to feel the damp sand between my toes.
“Yeah,” he said with warm tenderness echoing in his voice.
I kicked off my flip-flops just as he began to slowly lower me to the ground. Our eyes met the second my feet hit the cool sand. It was gritty and wet, and it felt completely wonderful between my toes. Our fingers laced together as a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. I turned toward the horizon, and we walked the last few steps to the water’s edge. The icy water rushed over my toes, and I gasped.
“It’s cold!” I yelped.
Jude’s deep laughter filled the air. “Why do you think the surfers are in wet suits? You’ll get used to it,” he promised. “We can walk for just a little bit.”
Hand in hand, we walked down the beach, talking and laughing, as others passed by. It was the most normal morning I’d ever had, yet it felt extraordinary and exhilarating. It was a feeling I never wanted to end.
“I didn’t think this would happen,” I admitted.
We came to a stop not too far from where we’d started.
“I never thought I’d have a day like this, a day where I wouldn’t have to think about what others were doing while I was stuck at home.”
“We’ll have a lot more days like this,” he promised, tilting my chin.
He captured my lips. The kiss started sweet and delicate as our mouths brushed lightly against each other. As his fingers found their way into my hair, pulling me closer, while he fisted strands of my blonde waves in his palms, it turned into anything but sweet.
“We need to get off this beach,” I urged, pulling away breathlessly.
“Yes, good idea,” he agreed.
He grabbed me at the knees, and I was tossed up into his arms. We reached the car, and he set me down.
“Where to now?” I asked.
“We’re going home,” he answered, his eyes blazing with fire.
And my belly clenched in anticipation.
We drove several miles and pulled into an older apartment building lined with palm trees and a faded wooden sign. Jude pulled into a marked spot, which I assumed was his, and he shut off the engine.
“Stay here, and I’ll get your door,” he offered before disappearing out the driver’s side.
I heard the trunk pop open, and moments later, he was at my door. I took his hand and stepped out, taking a moment to look around. Even though the building was showing its age, it was well maintained, obviously by a dutiful manager or owner.
Our apartment was similar in style and had much of the same feel. The owner had inherited it from his father and strived to make sure his family’s legacy lived on. He didn’t have much, but he was a loving landlord, and he was always there to help when something had gone wrong. Our appliances weren’t brand-new, and our carpet had a few years of age, but everything worked perfectly. I was fairly certain he was undercharging us as well, which was the reason my mom had stayed for the last fifteen years.
Jude walked us over to a flight of stairs and stopped. “Sorry, second floor, no elevator.”
“It’s okay, Jude. I can manage a few stairs,” I said, taking the first one as I pulled him along.
He followed as we made our way up. A cool breeze from the ocean tickled my neck as our feet found the final step, and he turned to the right to take us along the open hallway. Passing by three or four other doors, we came to a stop, and he fished out a key before opening the door.
I peeked inside, seeing a small love seat and kitchen table, as he dropped my bags on the floor in front of me. I’d just crossed the threshold and heard the door shut when he pushed me against it, and his mouth closed over mine. My gasp of surprise quickly turned into a longing moan as his hand skimmed up my bare thigh.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you to myself without anyone else around. No distractions,” his husky voice rumbled. “No interruptions.”
My belly tightened, and my legs quivered from hearing him speak. Just his voice alone had me nearly panting. “And now, you have me,” I answered, not believing the bold words that had just escaped my shy, innocent lips.
His lips curved upward as he repeated, “Now, I have you.”
His mouth slammed against mine, and I lost myself in his touch. He pulled my thigh around his waist, fingering the delicate edge of my panties running along the curve of my butt under my shorts. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert as I felt his touch against my skin. His free hand curved around the back of my head, angling it, as his tongue thrust deeper and harder.
A tiny beeping sound behind my ear startled me like a bucket of cold water, and my eyes flew open. I felt the warmth of Jude’s hand leave my neck, and then he held it in front of him, looking at a watch. Curious, I looked up at him, waiting for an explanation for the beeping.
“Time for lunch and your pills,” he said, pushing a button on the side to turn off the high-pitched noise.
“You set an alarm?” I asked.
“Yep, I have alarms set for each one of your pill times and every meal. I might have put one in there for a once-a-day vitals check.”
“You are pretty serious about this.” I laughed.
“Nothing will ever be more important than taking care of you. Ever,” he said.
Oh…
Well, I couldn’t think up much of a cheeky response to that.
I love you. Will you marry me? Yeah, that would probably be a bit too soon.
“Now, stop distracting me with your womanly ways, and let’s get you fed and medicated.”
He kissed me briefly on the cheek and slapped my butt, which caused me to yelp. Picking up my bags where he’d left them in the middle of the entryway, he started down a hallway, and I followed. There were two doors, which I presumed were the bedroom and bathroom.
He stopped in front of one and turned. “You don’t have to sleep with me. You can take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor or the couch. I don’t want to rush you,” he said hesitantly.
I took a step forward and then another until I brushed up against him. My fingers moved around his stomach, up his chest, and to his shoulder where the strap to my bag was resting. Sliding my fingers underneath, I lifted it and placed it on my shoulder.
“I’m sleeping with you.”
“Thank God,” he answered, a relieved breath of air escaping his lungs.
I walked past him, grinning, and entered the bedroom.
Like the few other places of the apartment I’d seen, the bedroom was sparse in its decoration. It fit what I knew of Jude. Alone and lonely for so long, I didn’t expect to walk into something out of a Pottery Barn catalog. His room was neat and tidy with no dirty piles of clothes or trash lying around. His bed was made, and he had a small dresser in the corner.
I set my duffel bag on the dark blue comforter and zipped open the top to pull out the giant Ziploc of pill bottles.
“Old people have nothing on me,” I joked, opening the top to sort through the different bottles.
He settled down on the bed and watched me. “If they keep you here, in my arms, it doesn’t matter.”
I found the three bottles I needed for lunch and turned to face him. His hands moved up my legs as I slid into his lap. I loved the feel of his arms around me.
“That’s all I want,” I said. “To stay in your arms forever.”
His arms tightened, and conviction laced his words as he spoke, “You will, I promise.”
I only hoped he was right.
The alarm on his watch went off two more times throughout the afternoon, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his dedication.
“Did you steal my hospital chart?” I asked when the second alarm went off.
“I didn’t have to steal it,” he scoffed. “I’m a hospital official. I just went in and looked.” A grin spread across his face.
“Well, you’re not going to wear that watch all the time, are you?” I asked, sinking down into his lap on the couch.
“No,” he
said softly. “I think I could ditch it at bedtime.”
The tip of his nose skimmed the curve of my neck, making me shiver. My lips parted, and my eyes fluttered closed. His hands closed around my waist and squeezed. Then, he lifted me up onto my feet. I opened my eyes to meet his cocky grin.
“Dinner first,” he said.
My mouth curved into a pout.
He laughed, tapping on his watch. “Okay, okay…stupid watch.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the kitchen.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we’d do another meal in. We can go out tomorrow, but I’m not ready to share you yet.”
Yes, please.
“Sounds good,” I answered, watching the way his butt moved as he walked ahead of me. I definitely wasn’t ready to share him either.
Could I just hold him hostage in here forever?
“Do you want to help me make dinner?”
“Yes, absolutely. Are we making pizza again?” I asked, grinning.
I remembered him saying he’d had to get directions on how to make it, so I was curious on what he was going to cook up tonight.
“Nope, no pizza. We are making baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans.”
“Did you go to chef school while I was in the hospital?” I asked, sitting down on a stool he’d placed in the kitchen for me.
After pulling several things out of the fridge, he turned to me. “Asking you to stay with me wasn’t a rash decision. I’d been planning it, hoping, and praying for it. I knew you’d get out of that hospital one day, and I hoped that when you did, you’d come home with me, so I wanted to be prepared,” he admitted.
“You learned how to cook for me?”
“I just did some Internet browsing. It wasn’t that hard. I looked up basic recipes, bought groceries for a change, and tried a few things.”
I stood up, took the things he had in his hands, and set them down on the small counter. “You learned how to cook for me.”
“Yeah, I guess I kind of did.” He smiled.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” I said in bewilderment.
“Help me.” He laughed.
“You got it!”