Tainted by Love

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Tainted by Love Page 10

by Jones, Gillian


  “Uh, no,” I’m about to say, but then change my mind. I figure I might as well grab what we need before they get here, that way it’ll be my treat. Shoving off the post, I move to the ticket window. “Actually, yes. Four tickets, please.”

  “Okay, great. What about the hayride? That’s extra. Will you want to go on the hayride?”

  “Hmm. Yeah, sure. Toss those in, too, please.”

  “Alright. How’s the ten-thirty ride?”

  Looking down at my phone, I see it’s already ten. I can’t fucking believe I’m at a bloody pumpkin patch on a holiday when I could be sleeping in. What the hell am I thinking? Clearly, I’m not. But after seeing Trinity’s face last night when Nadia and Brody kept teasing her about not knowing what she was in for today, I knew she was nervous about bringing the kids on her own. So, when Gavin and I were playing air hockey after dessert and he asked me to come along, there was no way I could say no. I mean, how could I possibly pass up an opportunity to make even better friends with Trin? I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees me.

  “That’ll work. Thanks, Phyllis,” I say, handing the grey-haired woman my credit card, having read her nametag. I return to the dusty parking lot to wait near my truck. With winter coming, I’ve put my Camaro in storage; there’s no way my baby should be subjected to the harsh Canadian ice and snow. I’m halfway to my blue Ford F-150, when I hear Gavin’s voice shouting my name.

  “Hendrix! You’re here! You came!” He rushes up to me.

  “Hey, little man.” I extend my fist so he can bump it. “I told you I’d come. And, here I am.”

  I look behind him for Trinity, my eyes finding her gorgeous smiling face as she makes her way over to us, Bella tiptoeing in tiny strides at her side. Damn, she’s a stunning woman with that pixie-cut, the long pink bangs sweeping across those beautiful grey eyes of hers. Her eyes match the armour she wears, especially around me; armour that doesn’t stand a fucking chance against me. “IN PERPETUUM ET UNUM DIEM”. That’s how long I’ll wait for this girl. That’s my plan.

  Despite her smile, I see the underlying worry and stress she tries to hide, and I see whatever burden it is that she carries on her shoulders when she’s not smiling. And the way her eyes go flat when no-one’s looking. One day, when she’s ready, I hope she’ll let me in and I can be the reason they never go flat again. I want to be the one to always make her happy. What the hell? Next, I’ll be reciting Shakespeare and writing my own fucking sonnets.

  She’s wearing tight blue jeans, those black UGG boots that all the chicks love, and a matching tight-fitting sweater that not only hugs her full chest, but highlights the white-pink tinge of her hair. She’s actually pretty fucking sexy.

  I try to hide the smile and the warm feeling that’s taking root in my chest. There’s something about this girl that calls to me.

  “Hendrix. Hi! You’re really here. Gavin said he invited you, but I figured you might have a billion better things to do than hanging out picking pumpkins,” she beams, the smile so genuine it lights up her whole face, and it’s like finding a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. A treasure.

  “Yeah, I…uh…hope you don’t mind.” I bump her shoulder. “Figured you might like the help. Some company and some man candy.”

  Again with the smile, the one I’m getting a serious crush on. Especially when it’s aimed at me.

  “Well, in that case, I would, and, yes, I’d love some. If you see any, be sure to point it out.”

  “Ouch. I’m wounded.” I cover my heart.

  “You’re impossible.”

  “So I’ve been told.” I put my arm around her, liking the feel of her under me way too much. I steer her towards the entrance.

  “Awesome. Well, thank you. Let me just grab the tickets and we’ll head in.” She says, moving out of my hold.

  “Already taken care of. We’re on the ten-thirty hayride.”

  “Wow, you’ve thought of everything. Let me know how much I owe you,” she says, reaching in her purse pulling out her wallet.

  Stepping in closer, I lean down towards her. God, she smells sweet, like sugary fruits and vanilla. “Your money’s no good here, Fruitloop. Friends are allowed to treat each other.”

  “Right…‘friends’,” she repeats, breathlessly meeting my stare, her eyes reflecting the same heat, and it takes everything—and I mean everything—for me not to pull her in and kiss the hell out of her.

  “Thanks, Hendrix,” says Gavin, staring up at us. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

  “Yes, thank you again, Hendrix,” Trin says. “I owe you a drink sometime.”

  “Are you asking me out on a date, friend? ’Cause I’m more than ready to take this to the next level.”

  “Hendrix,” she whispers.

  “It’s the truth, Trin. I’m not gonna hide behind wanting to be friends any longer. I want more.”

  “I can’t give you that right now,” she hisses. She turns and starts walking away from me. “Come on, the kids are getting too far ahead.” She nods to where Gavin and Bella are climbing the straw bales at the entrance.

  “Hey! You two ready to go have some fun, my friends?” I call.

  “Yes!” they both call out in unison, and run back to us.

  I put my hand on the back of Trin’s neck as we walk towards the woman collecting tickets for the Haunted Pumpkin Mansion.

  “Sorry, Trin.” I rub my favourite spot on the back of her neck.

  “Don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry. I wish things could be different,” she says, but winds her arm around my lower back. We follow behind the kids as they tear into the haunted house. I decide to let her cryptic reply go. For now.

  We spend the rest of the day having a blast (at a pumpkin patch—who knew?) and, yes, I crushed a whole lot harder on this crazy, spirited girl who continues to rock my world, especially the more she lets me see of the real her.

  Now, if she’d only see me.

  21

  Trinity

  Walking into the sterile, stark white, not-one-speck-of-colour-anywhere room to visit Andrea, I’m beyond nervous. I’m trying to control my emotions and failing miserably. She took a turn for the worse just after Thanksgiving. The last thing I want is to spend our time with me crying and unable to hold an actual conversation with one of my best friends, one of the strongest, most resilient women I’ve ever met.

  Holding tight to the small bag of healing gemstones I brought as a gift, I adjust my face mask one last time to be sure it’s covering my nose and mouth as I walk into the room. Taking a deep breath, I brace myself for what I’ll find when I reach the bed closest to the window. I let out a little sigh. At least she’s got a nice view, despite having to share the room with another patient.

  “Hellooooo?” I call, before peering around the half-drawn white curtain. “Are you decent?”

  “Even if I’m not, you better get that sweet ass of yours in here right now. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen my chick.”

  Wiping my tears before she can see them, I breathe deep again and approach her bed. I pause, mid-step, as I take her in. Seeing her now-frail body lying on a bed that consumes her guts me. More lesions mar her once pale skin making her body look bruised and battered. My eyes dart around her bed, noticing all kinds of tubes and wires poking into and out of and around the woman who’s become my saving grace—a friend whom—like Shannon—I’ve come to trust and share all my happiness and sorrows with.

  I can’t contain myself any longer. The dam breaks as realization that this is really happening settles in, and I start to sob. Reaching out a shaky hand out for me, Andrea coaxes me closer and I go willingly. She pulls me down onto her, tight. As I wrap my arms around her shoulders, I barely recognize the shape of this friend I’ve hugged so many times before. She’s disappearing.

  Crazy how things can change so quickly. For the last few months, she and I spent our after-therapy coffee talking about regular gossip and our daily lives. She’d pester me abou
t my lack of a love life, and I lived vicariously through hers as I listened to her gush on and on about Simon. Next thing I knew, she was confiding in me about how her illness had progressed, how she now had AIDS, and how she was planning on finally telling Simon everything. Through it all, she stayed strong and confident, assuring me that she still had time even with the Kaposi’s sarcoma she now had, saying that she just needed to be more careful.

  And she apologized over and over again for taking so long to tell me all the details of Simon’s reaction because they’d been too “busy”, if I knew what she meant. I’d been so excited for her. Andrea admitted that, if anything, her telling Simon the truth had brought them even closer. They’ve been spending every spare moment together, making up for the time they know will one day be stolen from them. I was happy for her, despite knowing it could be short lived. I just didn’t expect it to be this short.

  The Friday following Thanksgiving was when everything changed. Simon texted me from Andrea’s phone, telling me that Andrea had been admitted to hospital with pneumonia so she wouldn’t be at therapy that evening. He said she most likely wouldn’t be able to come for a while, either, not with her immune system so weakened. He also told me that she couldn’t risk having visitors at that time. He swore, however, to keep me updated and he did. But even once they had the pneumonia under better control, her body just couldn’t bounce back well enough for her to go home.

  Andrea’s been a patient at the Juravinski Hospital for almost a month now, and this is the first time she’s agreed to let me come visit. Despite my protests, she asked me to respect her wishes and stay away and, reluctantly, I had. Thankfully, we’d at least texted nearly every day. But texts did not prepare me for the Andrea I now see before me.

  “I thought I told you: none of this,” she admonishes, pulling away and smiling. “You promised, no tears.” Her voice is almost a croak.

  “I’m a liar. I admit it,” I say, doing my best to laugh, moving to sit in the chair beside her. The last thing I want to do is hurt her.

  “I told Simon you couldn’t be trusted,” she wheezes, “and that together you and I’d probably set off the panic alarm with our tears and dramatics. Nurses will be running in here any second now.” She also laughs, a bit of that familiar sparkle showing in her eyes.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” I blurt. “I hate Fridays without you. It’s not the same.” I wipe my eyes with the Kleenex Andrea’s passed me.

  “Yeah, I really did keep it interesting, didn’t I? All my issues. Whatever do they talk about now?” she teases. “Trust me, I’ve missed you, too. Texting isn’t the same as our post-meeting coffee-and-gossip sessions, that’s for sure.”

  “Agreed. I pretty much just run out of there at the end, now. It doesn’t feel the same,” I shrug.

  “Aww. I love you, too, chick.”

  I want to ask how she’s feeling, but I don’t, because it’s obvious. She’s dying. I can pretty much infer that she feels like crap. I don’t need to make her think about it when I’m here to be a positive distraction.

  “Spill,” she says, cutting through my thoughts.

  “Spill what?” I play dumb, or at least try.

  “I wanna hear more about how much you’re falling for this Hendrix person,” she eyes me knowingly, “’cause if you ask me, he’s totally got it bad for my girl.”

  “I told you, we’re friends. Nothing more. You know I can’t do more. Took me long enough to accept that we could even be friends.”

  “Bullshit. You’re hiding. And trust me, Trin. It’s not worth being a shadow when you deserve to be the light. And you, my beautiful girl, most definitely need to open your eyes here. I’m living proof. Did you know my boss came in yesterday?”

  “No! What? He did?”

  “Yeah, crazy, eh? You know what he told me? That he always thought I was a great guy, and that he regrets not being able to have met the incredible woman he now knows I am.”

  “Wow, how did he even know?”

  “Well, I’d called HR, to see how to go about giving my notice. The next thing I knew, Simon was escorting him into my room, and I was dressed as me, hence it all became obvious.” She gestures at her long auburn wig. “We’d always gotten along really well, so it was a nice surprise that it didn’t change anything between us.”

  “Amazing. I’m really happy you got to have that closure. I know that was a huge struggle for you.”

  “Me too, Trin. Me too. So take my advice, please.”

  “Alright, lay it on me, old wise one. I might not take it, but I’ll hear you out.” I reach for the water jug, pouring some into the styrofoam cup sitting on the rolling hospital table, noticing Andreas’s voice sounding scratchy.

  “Shush you.” She thanks me then takes a long sip before going on. “Think about it. You wanted Jared to see you, but he obviously had blinders on. Now, with Hendrix, I think you might be the blind one. Sounds to me like he’s a good man who, so far, likes what he sees, Trin. He’s been a good friend. He’s trying. Not to mention, I have a good feeling about this one. Call it a dying woman’s intuition.”

  “Oh my God, don’t say that. That’s terrible,” I fuss.

  “Relax, it’s just a bit of bedside humour.”

  “Well, I’m the one at your bedside, and that isn’t funny,” I mock scold. “Now, go on already with this genius advice. I’m riveted.”

  “You’re such a brat sometimes.”

  “It’s what makes us click,” I smirk.

  “Anyway. Here’s my thinking. Maybe you need to let him in a little.” Andrea cocks her head, eyes pleading with me.

  “I can’t. I’m scared,” I admit. “Petrified actually. He’s too intertwined into my life now—the shop, with Dex and the boys, with me…he’s a great friend, you’re right. And my feelings do cross the line, believe me. It’s hard for them not to, he’s way too hot for his own good. But I tamp those feelings down because the thought of hurting him destroys me. He deserves so muc—”

  She cuts me off. “Don’t you think he deserves to decide what he deserves, or what he wants?” she challenges. “Maybe he’ll surprise you, Trin. Some people do. I’ve met two men, no less, who have recently surprised the shit out of me. And you want to know the ridiculous thing? Sometimes we walk around playing victims, thinking we’re the only ones subject to stigmatizing and assumptions, but you know what? I think sometimes we’re our own worst enemies. In this case, Trin, I say you need to see where it goes and not be so closed-minded. Jared was a dick, but Hendrix doesn’t deserve to be punished because of some asshole from years ago,” she says, like she hasn’t just given me the biggest platter of food for thought I’ve ever had.

  I spend the next couple of hours with Andrea, laughing, crying, and soaking up every minute of time I can with this incredible human being. Before leaving, we make plans for me to visit again in a few days.

  Now to go home and try not to choke on the piece of humble pie she just dished out to me.

  22

  Trinity

  I pay and thank the Uber driver before slipping out of the woman’s Honda Accord in front of Ignition Inc. Walking through the glass entry door, I feel lighter than I have in a long while. I had a really good visit with Andrea, and I’m confident that somehow I’ll make peace with the inevitable.

  I’m looking forward to seeing Hendrix right now. Maybe he’ll give me one of those hugs of his I love so much. Nothing beats the way his strong arms envelop me, the way his smell sticks to my clothes when I reluctantly pull away from the cocoon his body makes around me. Maybe I will start working on letting my guard down with him, somewhat? Andrea’s probably right…

  Stepping into the lobby, my good mood immediately vanishes because of the ogre that lives inside Hendrix. He doesn’t often come out, but when he does, it’s a complete one-eighty from the man I’ve come to call friend.

  “You’re late,” he scowls from behind the counter, as the door chime rings above my head. The door closes behind me, a
nd my good mood and thoughts about moving on with my life are now apparently fleeing for the parking lot. I scowl back.

  “Sorry. My car wouldn’t start again, and the Uber was slow.” I shrug my shoulders, making my way towards the sexy man-o’-anger.

  After I left Andrea, my piece of shit car wouldn’t start—again. I know I was supposed to ask Joe to tune it, but I never brought it up. Besides, it’s been working great since Hendrix put a new alternator in it a few weeks ago. I knew the shop was booked solid with appointments today, and there was no way I was going set them back any further on account of me, so I left it in the hospital parking lot.

  “Call next time,” he grits, annoyed. Is he freaking kidding me right now? This is the last thing I need after the emotional morning I’ve had. He better prepare for battle if he thinks I’m going to take his crappy mood.

  “Jesus, I was ten minutes late, boss. I didn’t think I needed to call in for that. An hour late, sure, but not ten minutes. I mean let’s be seri—” I cut myself off as he stomps around the counter to stand in front of me.

  “For a ride, Fruitloop. I meant call for a ride. You know I’d come pick up your sweet ass in a heartbeat,” he says innocently, like his comment was the most natural thing to say. “Can we work now?” he asks, and it’s then I realize I’ve been standing there fish-mouthed, staring at him.

  “You had me ready to take your head off, and then you say that? Jesus, you are impossible.”

  “So I hear. A lot. Can we work, then, now that you’re here and I know you’re safe and I don’t gotta worry about you. It’s a busy afternoon and I have back-to-back appointments. Got shit to do. And I know you’re not about to tell me where you’ve been or anything, but I can tell you’ve been cryin’ again and I hate that look in your eyes. It pisses me off. So let’s get to work, so I can bang some shit.” He moves to return to the shop but I reach for his arm, stopping him. Turning back, he steps forward and looks down at me.

 

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