Tainted by Love

by Jones, Gillian

  “And you’d better tell me everything, or you won’t be allowed to visit me anymore,” she laughs again, and it causes her to cough.

  “Funny. Seems to me certain people have been limiting my visits. Not sure they deserve my gossip.” I cross my arms over my chest in mock protest.

  “Oh, zip it and spill it. You know you want to,” she says, taking the proffered sip from the Starbucks cup Simon is holding near her mouth, helping her to drink.

  I fight back tears at seeing my friend so helpless. Andrea doesn’t look good at all, and I’m worried the news she has to share with me today isn’t going to be anything I want to hear.

  It’s been two weeks since I last saw her. Between work, Hendrix, and Andrea being either too tired or having had a bad day, it’s been way too long.

  “You’re lucky I missed you,” I say as I lean forward, shifting my chair closer so I can rub her arm. “How come you’re keeping me away?” I ask, barely audible. I’m upset that she’s kept me at arm’s length. I don’t mean to be selfish, but I’m just not ready to lose her so fast, and from my conversation with Simon a few days earlier, Andrea doesn’t have much time left. And I can see that now just by looking at her.

  “I didn’t want you to remember me this way. And I’ve been making decisions and plans and I wanted to see you when I was ready to tell you. And now I’m ready. You’re not going to like it, and I don’t wan—” She cuts herself off with another coughing fit, reaching out for a blue crescent-shaped tray on the side table. Simon places it under her mouth, and I feel tears pricking my eyes as blood dribbles from Andrea’s mouth into the waiting receptacle. I adjust my face mask.

  “Andrea.” I squeeze her hand, tears falling now that her coughing spell has stopped. Seeing her like this, I’m unable to keep them in anymore.

  “I know, Trin. I know.” She gives my hand a weak squeeze back as Simon fusses about, wiping her mouth with a gloved-covered hand.

  “All better, beautiful,” Simon murmurs, kissing her cheek before heading to the adjacent bathroom to rinse the tray and dispose of the soiled tissues. And my heart literally breaks, at seeing how strong these two people are. I feel suddenly hot and a bit dizzy, as if I might be sick. Thankfully, Simon comes back in time to hand me a bottle of water, as if he can see it on my face.

  “Thank you.” I twist off the cap, pull up the bottom of my mask and take a long sip.

  “Sorry you had to see that. This is why I don’t want visitors,” Andrea says, her voice weaker than before.

  “You know I could care less. I want to be here for you. I love you.”

  “Oh, sweet girl, but you are and you have been. You’ve made the last year bearable,” she hiccups, and I see that she’s crying. “You’ve helped me so much, Trinity, given me courage I’d never had. I love you, too, my dear. So much.”

  “I can’t lose you.” I take a tissue from the box Simon has passed me, and try to wipe away my tears, but there are too many.

  “I’m going to go for a walk. Let you two talk.” Simon gives me a sad smile before kissing my cheek and leaving us alone.

  “Simon’s taking me home tomorrow, Trin,” Andrea says, then pauses, to give it time to sink in.

  “What? How can they let you leave, you’re sic—Oh. Oh, no…” I say, covering my mouth with my hand to lock down the sob that wants to escape so badly.

  “I’m going home to die. There isn’t anything left that they can do for me here. I’m exhausted all the time. The cancers are spreading. They can’t find where the blood is coming from and I won’t survive a surgery. And my lungs are shot. My doctor has agreed to let me go home, to spend my final days with Simon in comfort and in peace. In love,” she says, and gives me a warm—but sad—smile.

  “Oh, Andrea,” I sob. “I’m so sorry. Please let me come over and help you be comfortable. I can cook and clean, I can help with anything you need,” I offer, but even as I say it, I know it’s too risky for me. Although my immune system is strong at the moment, things could easily change if the right virus or bacteria happens upon me. I know she and Simon wouldn’t be willing to put me at risk me by being in such close and intimate contact. Regardless, I offer, because if she said she needed me, I’d be there.

  “And, what, let you risk getting sick? I can’t do that. And don’t ask me to. It’s bad enough I’ve let you come today. Soooo…you won’t be able to come see me again until I’ve passed,” she says, as huge tears drip from her once vibrant eyes. “I needed to be the one to tell you. To say goodbye now, before I can’t.”

  I can’t speak. I can’t find any words, they’ve escaped me. All I can do is sit and stare at Andrea, my beautiful friend, and commit her to memory as I listen to her tell me one last time how proud she is of me for moving forward with Hendrix, to never take a day for granted, and how I was one of the best people she’d ever had the pleasure to know.

  By the time Simon is back, I’m too overcome with emotion to speak or move. At some point, he must have taken my phone because the next thing I know, Hendrix is rushing to me and lifting me into his strong arms, whispering sweet words in my ear as he rubs my back and tries to calm me. I wrap my arms around his neck and cry big splashy tears as sobs and whimpers tear through my body. I kiss Andrea on the forehead, and Hendrix and I wave both soundless goodbyes to her and Simon as Hendrix and I leave the room for a nearby waiting area. He gives me some time to calm down, then walks me out of the hospital and drives me home.

  Hendrix is always what I need, in the best of times and in the worst of times.

  Later that night, Andrea called, sounding a little stronger, and we talked. I apologized for my breakdown, and she told me to shove it. But not before telling me how hot my boyfriend was (even with his paper mask on) and that she could die a happy woman having seen the man who loves me coming to my rescue the way he did, after seeing the man who finally saw me. Then there’s a silence, and Simon comes on to tell me that Andrea’s fallen asleep.

  I’m going to miss these calls…and her.

  39

  Trinity

  Pacing the length of the hotel room, I’m livid. The feeling of the soft carpet under my toes does nothing to calm my anger as I pace and pace, waiting, waiting.

  Clutching my cell phone to my ear, I silently will Shannon to pick up her damn phone already. Even if she is out with Cannon, it’s Code. We always pick up for each other. I need to vent before he gets back. Boy, is this man in the doghouse right now. He’s gone too far with his bossy-assed shit this time, let me tell you. A girl can only take so much before she loses it.

  Tonight was supposed to be a romantic getaway. Hendrix and I had a great time at the car show today. We made an amazing team, and we managed to drum up a lot of potential business for Ignition Inc. Hendrix booked a complete overhaul on a ’66 Mustang that completely made his day, and I got lots of great comments on my Powerpoint presentation.

  One of the best parts about today was that it was a perfect distraction, one I badly needed. I only looked at my phone about half a million times for updates on Andrea. Thankfully, the only message all day was from her. She wished us luck and pretty much demanded that I send her pictures of Hendrix and me throughout the day, before adding that even solo pictures of Hendrix leaning against some muscle cars would be okay, too. At first I was going to be a shit and write something cheeky back, but then she texted that she was only kidding, she really did want pictures of us both, that she was missing me. Which of course made me weepy. Hendrix had hugged me tight to his chest the way I love, which made me feel a lot better.

  It’s been a few days since Andrea was moved back home. She hasn’t changed her mind about me visiting, and I’m really trying hard to respect her wishes. I do, however, talk to Simon a lot, and I might have even popped in to see him and quietly help out the other day, too, doing some cooking for him while she was sleeping. What Andrea doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

  By the end of the car show today, I managed to send her twenty pictures of Hen
drix and me in all sorts of crazy poses and with some pretty cool old cars, too. She loved them, told me I’d made her day, and that made me happy. I even sent a few of just Hendrix in front of a hot rod, ’cause I’m nice like that, and he was thrilled to make muscles and pose for her. It honestly was such a great day for both of us; we should be out celebrating. Instead, I’m angry, and he’s out.

  “Come on, come on. Pick up…” I’m about to disconnect when Shannon finally answers.

  “Hey, you! How was the auto show? I bet everyone loved your presentation. Did Hendrix have to fight to keep all the hottie mechanics away from his woman? I bet he went all caveman, eh?” she drones, then hesitates. “Wait. Why are you calling me? You’re supposed to be living it up in Toronto with your man. Didn’t you have dinner reservations?” She stops, allowing me to get a word in.

  “I know, we did, but we’re sort of fighting right now,” I say, walking over to the black bar fridge and grabbing the Sigg water bottle I’d tossed in there earlier.

  “What? How is that possible? That man is a dream and you’re…well, you?” she asks, surprised.

  “He’s being ridiculous. Overbearing. And way too bossy for my liking, the stupid ogre-head,” I scowl.

  “Wow, you really are pissed off if you’re breaking out the big names,” she chuckles, and I smile a little, but then scoff, realizing I might need to reevaluate my friendships. This one might have run its course.

  “Shut up. I’m angry. Don’t make me laugh. I’m mad. Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  “Yours, usually, but it’s Hendrix we’re talking about here. That man is crazy about you.”

  “Well, he’s completely in the wrong today, so you’re on Team Trin, okay?”

  “Alright, tell me what he did. Wait…he better not have left you alone in downtown Toronto. Tell me that’s not the case, before I hop in my car and come kick his ass.” And there she is. Friendship saved.

  “No, of course not. He went to grab us some takeout from that Persian place that’s supposed to be amazing, the restaurant we should actually be sitting in right now,” I sigh.

  “Oh, God. That jerk! The nerve!” she exclaims sarcastically. “Imagine, him bringing you some awesome takeout to eat in bed, followed by, I presume, a dessert of hot sex? You’re right. What a dick,” she harrumphs.

  “Well, that shouldn’t matter. It’s what he did before that counts.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “We were supposed to go out to eat, but I had a headache after the show so he cancelled. Told me I needed to rest. And I lost it on him. Told him that I don’t need another doctor, that I felt fine, that I was a competent adult who can handle going out with a headache. Sheesh, it was probably just from being under those goddamn fluorescent lights all day.”

  “What? You got mad at him? Why? Because he worries about you, Trinny? Do you hear yourself? Besides, if every time he suggests you might need some rest you freak out and have a temper tantrum, doesn’t that kind of prove his point?”

  I don’t answer her. I keep talking, my frustration overtaking my rational side.

  “But this isn’t the only time! It’s been more and more lately. Heaven forbid that I drive myself to my doctor appointments, or to group therapy on Fridays. He insists it’s because it’s snowing, but he’s treating me like I’m made of glass all of a sudden. Not that he’d admit to it, but I know that’s why. And when I went to see Simon, Hendrix insisted on driving me and picking me up. I’m not his goddamn child, or his burden; he has a garage to run and I can drive for Pete’s sake. Who does that? Or get thi—”

  “Trin, listen—” she says, trying to interrupt my tirade, but I’m nowhere near done yet.

  “Then, ha! Listen to this! This—this one, you’ll see he’s nuts. This morning we needed to leave to come to Toronto. I was going to feed Beast and change his litter before we left. And Hendrix lost it, forbade me from ever changing the litter again!” I start to talk louder, my hands flying around as I tell her what happened, almost shouting into the phone.

  “Fruitloop, come on. I don’t want to hit traffic on the 401, and we gotta set up. Doors open at ten,” Hendrix says from the kitchen, where he’s entered my apartment.

  “Okay, I’m almost ready. My bags are there,” I say, pointing to the couch. As I make my way into the kitchen, my steps falter as I take him in. He’s wearing a light-brown button-up which hugs a little across his broad chest, and his distressed blue jeans look great wrapped around his legs. I’m a little jealous of the denim getting to hug those muscular thighs and that gorgeous ass all day. His warm brown eyes meet mine, and I can tell by the sexy smirk that I’ve just been busted checking him out.

  “Like what you see?”

  “Hell, yes. Let’s just go straight to the hotel.”

  “Keep staring at me with those fuck-me eyes and we just might,” Hendrix says, eliminating the distance between us. “You look beautiful, baby. And I want nothing more than to slip inside you, but we really gotta go.” He kisses my forehead, “But I’ll definitely make it up to you tonight.”

  “Deal. How about you take my bags, and I’ll meet you at the truck in, say, seven minutes?”

  Chuckling, he walks towards my couch and picks up my laptop and overnight bags. “What’s gonna take exactly seven minutes?” he asks.

  “I have to run down to feed Beast and change his box, and give him a little love. I know he already misses me,” I beam.

  “The hell you are,” Hendrix all but barks in my direction, completely taking me off guard. I haven’t heard him speak to me in that tone since the first time we met.

  “Pardon me?” I ask, not hiding the shock in my voice at all.

  “I said ‘the hell you are’. You’re not to change the cat litter anymore. Joe, Brody or I will do it. I already told them and they agreed. No way you’re gonna touch that again, ever.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me? Why the hell not, exactly?” I tap my foot to keep myself from throat-punching him. “I’m seriously getting tired of this alpha bossy shit you’ve got going on lately.”

  “Too bad. I’m not compromising on this. Not gonna risk your health over some goddamn cat litter…”

  “Stop talking, Trinity!” Shannon’s voice cuts through my rapid thoughts and ramblings.

  “What? I’m not done yet,” I reply, annoyed.

  “Jeez, let me talk. You’re going on and on…”

  “Sorry. I’m just crazy mad.”

  “I get that, but, man, did you call for my opinion or to simply make me suffer while you vented down the line at me?”

  “No, I need advice. Sorry,” I say awkwardly, taking a long sip of water, my throat dry from being long-winded.

  “Did he tell you why? Knowing Hendrix, there must be a reason for it.”

  “Yeah, he mentioned some parasite that cats carry in their feces. I guess pregnant women and people with inadequate immune systems can catch it and get really sick. Apparently he’s been Googling all kinds of stuff about HIV and AIDS. Anyway, it’s called toxoplasmosis—or something or other. I got pissed because you catch it from touching cat shit, Shannon. I’m not touching the shit, I always wear disposable gloves. He’s being a tad too dramatic and way too overprotective,” I sigh, angry all over again as it accumulates in my mind. Not just about the catbox incident, per se, but when all the other incidents are grouped together with it, the whole picture seems like overkill. I’d already more or less gotten over the cat litter thing this morning. How could I not, with an apology like this…

  I’m about to tell Hendrix to leave, when he scoops me up and places me gently on the countertop despite my protests. Nudging his way between my legs, he takes my face in his hands and begins rubbing his thumbs gently along my jaw. “You can’t be mad at me. You can’t fault me for loving you so much, and wanting to do everything I possibly can to keep you healthy and safe.” He rests his forehead on mine. “I intend to make you be my forever, Trinny. Don’t want any stupid shit that I c
an prevent taking you away from me.” His sincere words completely obliterate my anger.

  “Exactly,” I hear Shannon mutter, breaking me away from my thoughts about the first time he pissed me off today yet managed to convince me to forgive him. Not this time, though. He’s gone too far telling me that I need to stay home and rest. This is supposed to be a romantic getaway!

  “What does that mean? You’re seriously not taking his side?” I shout.

  “Trinny, he’s not being too dramatic. Hendrix is being protective of what’s his. Sure, he’s a bit over-the-top and could probably improve in the communications department, but give him a pass once in a while. He’s also a man who’s so deeply in love with you he can’t see past it. Hendrix may be a little overbearing but that’s okay with me, since it’s only because he wants to keep you healthy for as long as he can. He’s scared to lose you. It’s got to be in the back of his mind, especially after seeing Andrea in that hospital bed. I love him all the more for that. I get it, because even though I ignore it most days, sometimes the thought of not having you in my life creeps to the forefront, too, and I think the worst. Only for a second, but it guts me. So, yeah, Trin, I get him. And I’m on his side this round,” she says, and I hear her sniff. Then I hear Cannon in the background asking if she’s okay.

  “Shit,” I groan, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re right. Oh my God, you’re right. He’s just trying to keep me safe. To protect me as best as he can. Jesus, I’ve been a complete bitch, haven’t I?”

  I hear the keycard door lock beeping, signalling that Hendrix is back. Even if he is a little too much to take sometimes, I realize he does have the best intentions, wanting to keep us together for as long as possible. How did I ever question that logic?