by Devin Sawyer
CHAPTER 16 – PRESENT
As we prepare to leave, I feel comfort in knowing I’ll be back home soon, in my own bed. While the week went better than expected, I have no desire to stick around. Progress will need to be made in small doses. Lawson is lingering around the house, he’s spending a few more days here around the state’s big spenders before returning to Columbia or wherever he plans to travel next. Mrs. Calhoun is already flitting around the house stressing about our departure and complaining about having to readjust to empty nester’s syndrome. When it can’t be avoided any longer, I stick by Reece’s side, but he finally approaches Lawson and the two brothers go in for a hug. I have to wonder what their family interactions looked like the last three years I was absent. Reece never talked about it much and I can’t imagine our first year together made for a comfortable family gathering. Once the two separate, they jovially slap each other on the back and promise to see each other more. Reece will come down and fish with Lawson, Lawson promises to visit Portland mentioning a contact he has in our area. Lawson and I, throughout this trip, have yet to speak to each other in front of his parents. Any interaction we had was private or in the presence of Reece and others at events.
In an attempt to maintain our aloofness I give an awkward wave by my side. “Good luck with your campaign. Sorry we aren’t residents anymore to vote, but I’ll be sure to convince any remaining friends here that you’re their guy.”
“So that’s like what? One person?” he teases to everyone in the room, and even though it stings a little, it does lighten the mood.
“No,” I sass. “I have two friends here, thank you very much.”
His inquisitive stare and lifted brow, tells me I haven’t convinced him.
“I do. Finn and Cher are both still here.”
“Finn doesn’t count,” he gasps. “He’s my friend too. Of course, he’s voting for me.”
“That’s what you think,” I sass back one final time, wanting the final jab and everyone in the room seems to be content that we are all finally settling into our roles.
I follow Reece outside, his parents following, and I lift my carry-on into the rental car before joining him next to them. I watch them closely and I know they are sad to see him return across the country.
“Why does it have to be Oregon or New Jersey? Why can’t it be here? Everyone would love a restaurant of yours and I’m sure it would be a success. We’d make sure of it,” Emily tries to persuade Reece into keeping his options open.
I still love living in Oregon. I’ve never stayed in one area very long. Boarding school shuffled me back and forth. Then I tried community college and then South Carolina. When I think about it, I haven’t really felt a home like Portland since I lived in Turkey. I have no idea what Reece plans to do. I assume he wants to talk about it further with Lorenzo and me before any final decisions are made.
I interrupt as kindly as I can. “Mr. and Mrs. Calhoun, thank you for having me. I’m so grateful for your hospitality. I’ve had a great time coming back to South Carolina.” Alright, that’s a stretch but for the sake of kissing ass it seems to have gone over well and it appears at least some of my hospitality manners are still intact.
“See honey, Farah wants to come back too,” she tells him, and he shoots me a chastising glare. I shrug my shoulders at him in apology. I hadn’t meant to sound that persuasive. “Anytime dear. I know things are… odd, but we do hope y’all return more.”
“That would be great. I’m going to go grab my last bag while y’all say goodbye.”
I head back inside to grab my final bag, but I was dreading hauling the heavy thing down the stairs. Can’t people with money like this afford an elevator in their homes? This is why I stay in hotels.
“Looking for this?” Lawson inquires from the top of the stairs and I can see him holding up my large checked bag as if it weighs nothing, when I quite, in fact, know it’s breaching the fifty-pound threshold. He carries it down the stairs for me and I wait for him at the bottom.
The closer he gets, the more uncomfortable I begin to feel. It’s how I have felt every time he’s been around. I’m more alert. All our moments alone, feel too intimate, but I make an effort to pretend I’m unaffected. He places the cumbersome luggage gently at my feet and I smile sweetly but awkwardly.
“Thanks.”
“I would like to come visit sometime… if that would be okay with you. I used to be really close with Reece and when he moved, well it got harder.”
I got in the way. That’s what he meant to say.
“I hurt...” He clears his throat and starts again. “It hurt more than I like to admit after you left and for a long time. I probably should have said this to you sooner, but I’m not sure how to act around you still. I feel like I was a thousand different people this week when you were in a room, and I’m just trying to fucking figure it out.” For once I feel like this is the old Lawson I used to know. Just he and I, and I can hear the genuine tone in his voice. It’s low and gravelly and it’s at this moment I realize how close we are standing, close enough that we are almost using a whispering tone.
I nod, feeling the same. My body and brain still wanting to impress him, consume him, but my heart remembers the frustration and pain he made me feel. It’s that which I focus on when it gets cloudy in my mind.
“Just be… you. We will figure the rest out. I’d like for you and Reece to be close, and I’d like to have you around more. We will all adjust eventually.” I say it hoping to convince myself all the same.
“Right, well, have a safe flight.” His voice still soft and barely loud enough for me to hear it, even as close as we are in this moment.
I should take a step back or go running but something holds me in place for a second longer, daring to make eye contact with him. His eyes are soft and questioning and before I know what’s happening, Lawson bends and his lips descend on mine. It is not rushed or hard, but a soft, chaste kiss as if maybe if we only barely touch it won’t count. My mind is frozen. I don’t move to run but I also don’t move to return the kiss. I just stand there, feeling his soft lips warm my own for the briefest second. As quick as he descended, he’s stood and turned to make his way down the hall without any further clarification as to what the fuck that just was.
He kissed me. Only barely, but that’s not the point, the point is that he intentionally bent to place his lips on my own. My thoughts are spiraling rapidly as I try to grasp and understand or even shout after him, but in the back of my head I register the front door opening, only a few feet away, and at that moment Reece’s head pokes through the door.
“You ready?” he asks, excitedly.
“Yeah. Coming.”
My body stark still, finally begins to move on autopilot, and I try to ignore the entertained face Reece gives me as he tries to figure out why I’m still parked like a statue at the bottom of the stairs, gazing into thin air.
Reece has the car running and his parents are still outside, waving us off. I manage to fake a smile as we pull out of the driveway but as soon as we head toward the airport, I throw my sunglasses on and stare out the window.
What in the ever-loving fuck happened back there? In my distraction, I hadn’t even stopped to assess whether or not I enjoyed the kiss. I mentally scold myself, of course I didn’t enjoy that. It was fucking stolen from me. Did he mean to do that? It’s not exactly like his lips tripped and fell onto my face. Had he planned on doing that? I don’t have an answer to that but as I sit on the car ride to the airport and all through security my anger at Lawson surges and the biggest question of all surfaces. Why would he do that? Why would he talk about valuing his brother in one moment and kiss me in the next. I get it, shit’s confusing. This is a real shit situation, but we aren’t college kids anymore.
Reece can sense my frustration. I brush it off as exhaustion, knowing I won’t sleep well on the plane. He seems to accept that answer because I have not even begun to think about whether or not I plan to tell him. I
mean, I can’t. I can’t just go tattle on his brother and really fuck shit up in the Calhoun house. This is South Carolina where hospitality and southern manners reign, but this right here, is some Jerry Springer shit.
Once we are finally loaded onto the plane, I finally decided to just go to the source, and I type out a quick text.
I’d like to know what just happened back there.
I turn my phone over and make sure it’s on vibrate, but almost ten minutes later I still have no reply from Lawson and the attendant prompts us all to power down our devices. I wait just a minute longer, but finally do as I’m told and prepare for the long flight. I hope by some miracle, that sleep takes me, and when I wake, I have some clarity. As I begin to doze off, I feel Reece, seeking out my hand, and entwining his fingers with my own.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” he whispers, but not so softly that the woman behind us doesn’t hear and uncomfortably clears her throat. I haven’t been able to openly touch and kiss Reece for the last week unless we were hiding off on our own, and here I am with the last man’s lips to touch mine being his brother’s.
I never hear back from Lawson. I texted him three more times after we landed, and I finally realize that he’s avoiding me or just has nothing to say. I finally deleted the string of unanswered texts and made an effort to return to my life in Portland. I can tell Reece is happy to be back to our lives here in the Pacific Northwest. He stripped me the second we hit the threshold of our apartment. Even when I was too distracted to come quickly, and he finished before me, he kept thrusting, never growing flaccid until he got me there, and then came in me again. He makes love to me in the wildest of ways. With Lawson there was desire, with Reece there is passion. It’s so different but confusing altogether.
Our lives start to return to normal after being back for a few days and for that I’m grateful. I return to my shift in the emergency room and even manage a shift with April. I have to fight back telling her everything when she asks about the trip. If I voice it that makes it real, and it doesn’t have to be. Part of me starts to wonder if Lawson did it to pay me back for leaving so suddenly the last time, if this is his way of doing the same, but I hope he’s not that vengeful. He seemed earnest in his intentions to get to know Reece better and want things to improve between the family, so I just can’t figure out what compelled him to do it. I’m most angry that I didn’t hate it. That I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t missed the way he felt next to me, touching me, that’s the worst part. That’s the part I’ve thought of every day since and my guilt is crushing me every night I’m with Reece. It is fading, I can say that much. The small feelings Lawson brought back were mild, but they were there, and I’ll make sure they don’t stick around.
With campaign season in full swing, I occasionally see his name flash across the news screens we have playing in the lobby at work and each time, I stop to see how he’s polling. It’s still early on but the race is close between him and the current incumbent. His face sticks in my mind the rest of the day. I read somewhere that we, as voters, are more prone to vote for the better-looking candidate. If that’s the case, then Lawson should have no problem winning the bid next November.
When I get home from my shift, I toss my keys on the kitchen table and debate going for a run around the neighborhood. I don’t have the energy to make it to the gym, but I could run a quick mile or two and decompress from my day at the hospital. Warm arms snake around me and spin me in my hospital scrubs and old lady sneakers that are padded to the max for walking the floor all day. Reece’s fresh smell washes over me.
“Hey what are you doing home? I thought you had to work tonight.” A smile warms my face and I can tell he’s in a playful mood.
“Lorenzo called me. He found someone interested in investing in our restaurant. He has a contact on the east coast, and he loves the idea of having the chefs also entertain as they cook and wants to talk about funding and locations.”
He grins ear to ear in total excitement. He loves working in the food industry. He’s one of the few people I know who thinks food is sexy. It makes him sexy to find attraction in the everyday thing others take for granted.
“That’s amazing! Tell me everything! When do you meet? Where are you looking? What’s your menu? What kind of entertainment?” I batter him with questions. His excitement is infectious, but I partially panic internally, wondering if it means we will be relocating to the east coast. My concerns are soon squashed.
“The meeting is next week. I offered to fly out there to meet with them. That’s why I’m home early. I decided to split so I could come home and plan for it. Lorenzo says he’s open to discussing west coast locations. He’s not excited about being so far from his family, but once the place was up and running, he could help manage the day to day from afar. The rest I have no idea about yet. Lorenzo and I are both brainstorming a pitch for now. We’ll call each other tomorrow once the excitement has settled and we can form sentences again.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I tell him as I place my hand on his shoulder and he leans in to kiss me again and I lose myself in our happiness.
“If we can pull this off, I promise to move you out of this apartment and into the most beautiful home, baby.” He promises me in my ear. He spoils me. Always has. “And I’m going to marry you, whether you like it or not.” His voice more demanding now. I like when he’s bossy and for that, I lead him to the bedroom where he can put his bossy mouth to good use.
CHAPTER 17 – PRESENT
I miss you, the text reads. It’s enough to send my world turning on its side and keep my brain from thinking clearly. I’m not sure why Lawson would wait so long to respond to my previous texts and certainly not with that.
“Is everything okay? You look sick,” April observes from across the table we’re eating lunch at outside the hospital. I shove the phone back in the pocket of my scrubs.
“Yeah, fine. Just an unknown number. Tell me more about this guy you managed to go on three dates with in the one week I was out of town. I didn’t think we had that kind of time outside the hospital.” I distract myself from the ‘what the fuck’ text that is a week too late.
“That’s because you’re always rushing home to your man candy to do God knows what, but it’s not to have babies. I would have locked that shit down, like, immediately.”
“Hey! There’s plenty of practicing. We aren’t ready for kids. Plus, I really don’t want to get us into that kind of responsibility when he has this new business endeavor. Maybe by the time he’s finished with it, we both will be ready to talk marriage and babies and all the stuff you’ve been pushing for the last three years. And I really want to run my own clinic.”
“Speaking of which, I heard some gossip that a few of the nurse managers on the units plan to retire together next year. There could be a few openings soon. Have you been brushing up your resume?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you skirted around the question of your dates last week. I’ll get back to that, but no. I need to take a look at it, maybe take some classes in the area to brush up on some of the healthcare management skills. I don’t really love working on the inpatient wards, but nurse manager would be a good promotion to eventually get me closer to running the free urgent care clinic.”
“On the plus side, I think you’re the only person who wants to run that clinic next time the spot opens. Run solely by nurses, and a physician who only responds if paged? No thanks. That place is always overrun with patients and chaos. I don’t know who else would want it.”
“I have some ideas for it.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do and I’m sure you’re going to be amazing at it. Come on, let’s get back to the ER. Our break is over.”
We head back to the unit and I don’t take my phone out again for the rest of the workday. Whatever games Lawson is playing, I don’t want to be a part of it.
~
“How’s your pitch going?” I ask Reece who’s currently hunched over the d
ining table staring at an Excel spreadsheet. He leans back, exhausted by the stress that the project has put on him since he took the call from Lorenzo.
“I can’t imagine asking anyone other than a bank for this much money.”
“Well, he has other successful restaurants. I’m sure he’s prepared for whatever the two of you will throw at him.”
“It’s so much more than a restaurant though. It’s the entertainment piece that’s running costs through the roof. It’s chefs that are comedians, it’s hiring singers as hostesses, comedian bartenders, and light shows, it’s theme nights. The bar is set so high that I’m starting to question if it’s realistic to maintain.”
“Portland has a great tourism scene. I think as long as you have a good city, and a good location you will pull in the crowd. That place sounds awesome. I don’t even care what you cook me if I’m enjoying myself… Speaking of, are you cooking tonight or want me to whip something up for us while you work on that?” He cringes and stands from his chair.
“I can do some quick steaks and veggies for us. I don’t want to risk food poisoning when I have a presentation next week,” he jabs.
“I’ve never given you food poisoning!” I insist. “I just burn things sometimes.”
“You cook all the nutrients out, boo. I got it. Tell me about your day,” he says while pouring us both a small glass of wine that he likes to drink while he cooks and hands me my own.
“Same ol’, same ol’. Two of my regulars were in today. The kid I’ve told you about in the past that was in a gang came in to get his old wound looked at. He keeps refusing the IV antibiotics he needs to cure it, but we won’t send him home with an IV in because of his drug history and he won’t stay in the hospital for the six weeks of treatment he needs. We just keep prolonging the infection with oral antibiotics.”
“Gang activity was pretty non-existent in Charleston, I can’t even comprehend what’s going through that kid’s head.”