by Mindy Carter
"It's ten minutes till nine," he answers.
I slept for three hours, and did he not move the entire time? A voice above announces visiting hours will be over in ten minutes. I jump to my feet and scramble to get to my dad's room. I can't believe I let myself fall asleep.
When I make it to his room he's still asleep and I notice he looks peaceful. I follow the rise and fall of his chest with my eyes. I'm happy he's resting, but I wanted to spend more time with him.
"You both are exhausted. Let me take you home, so you can sleep." Keegan rests a gentle hand on my shoulder and I instantly relax. How can one man's voice give me so much comfort?
"I can drive myself home," I tell him.
"I know you can, but let me do this for you, please. It's only a ten-minute drive, Aimee. I won't even speak. Sleeping three hours isn't enough. You need a bed and a pillow, not that I'm complaining about you sleeping on me. Well, except for the drool you left on my shirt." He points to an invisible spot on his shirt.
"That won't happen again, Keegan. I wasn't lucid and you just saw it as another way to get to me."
A flash of disappointment crosses his face. He may even think he's losing his touch. I mean, I've fallen all over him before, how can I possibly resist him now? The key is staying angry. The minute I'm no longer affected is when I'll be in real trouble, but I'm angrier than I have ever been. I want to hit or punch something so bad, preferably him.
"That's not why I let you sleep on me. You think I'm this bad guy, and that every little thing I do is some underhanded trick. Aimee, you are fighting so hard to stay mad at me that you can't see why I'm really here."
Wow, he has some nerve, telling me what I'm supposedly thinking.
"Well, why are you really here, then? Since you know more than me." I practically spit the words.
"You have every right to be angry and I know I screwed up. I should have done things differently from the get-go, but I'm here because you need me. I promised you I'd never leave you again, and I'm not going to break that promise, no matter how many tongue lashings you give me."
"I don't need you, Keegan. All I need is for my dad to get well. Do you understand? He's my main focus." I let out a shaky breath.
"I do get that, I really do, but you're being stubborn. You have always been stubborn, and it's going in one ear and out the other, so I'll say it again and again until it's hammered into that beautiful head of yours. I'm not leaving."
God, he's so infuriating. He's doing damage by being here, forcing himself into the position of loving boyfriend.
"I have to check in with the nurse and let them know to call me if anything changes. I'll let you take me home, but you will be up bright and early to bring me back here, or sooner if I need to."
He's silent at my surrender. He's said his piece and he knows how I feel. The two of us fighting just outside my dad's room isn't helping anyone. Thankfully, he's a heavy sleeper, and he won't have heard any of this argument. I can take the stress, but not him and not now.
When I return after speaking with the nurse I find Keegan standing with his arms crossed. He has a faraway look in his eyes, and I can't help but wonder what he's thinking. I don't have to wonder too long.
"I was just thinking that we never had a fight when we were kids. Most people would find that odd, but with us it was just how we were. We always fit together."
I don't say anything, just stare at him. Thinking back, he's right; we never fought. He also never broke my heart or lied to me, so there's that, but I avoid telling him what I'm thinking. I can tell by the way he's looking at me that he knows anyway.
"Ready?" He motions us toward the elevators, and we walk next to one another to his car and drive home in complete silence. It's oddly comforting, and I'm not sure how to feel about that.
Chapter Six
Once we make it back to my house, Keegan doesn't say a word. I expect he can suddenly read my mind, because that's exactly what I kept asking for in my head: Quiet. He of course opened my door for me and helped me out of the car. Once inside, we both kick our shoes off, and I immediately make my way upstairs. I grab some towels for him and place them on the dresser in the spare bedroom, which used to be my grandmother's room. There is no trace of her in the room any longer, except for the lingering scent of roses. It always reminds me of her even after all this time. She will always be watching over me, watching over all of us.
I turn to leave and notice that Keegan followed me. He enters the room, taking in the surroundings, and his eyes land on a picture on the nightstand of my grandmother and me from my high school graduation. Without looking at me, the words "Thank you" escape his lips. I don't feel like he was thanking me, but the ghost of the person this room used to belong to.
I walk silently out of the room and make my way to my own. I close the door, but don't lock it. There's no need; he won't be bothering me. He's already made himself more than clear, and even though I don't want to I trust his word. Once I'm in bed I stare up at the ceiling, and it takes me a long while to fall asleep. I can't stop thinking of the man down the hall, and the last time we were here, when he fulfilled a promise he made to me a long time ago. The prom for two that he orchestrated and surprised me with was so much like a fairy tale. I didn't think that we would ever be apart again after that, but I was wrong. Thankfully, exhaustion overtakes the memories and I fall into a deep, needed sleep.
***
I wake groggy. The sun is filtering through my bedroom curtains. I remove myself from my comfortable bed and walk over to my window. Pushing aside the curtain, I look out at the street. Everything is calm and quiet, and Keegan's car is still parked where he left it. I remember I'm dependent on him at the moment, since my dad's car is still at the hospital.
I make my way down to the kitchen and luckily don't run into Keegan. I hope he's still fast asleep. The clock on the microwave reads six in the morning, and I'm in desperate need of coffee. Opening the cabinets, I find I don't even have enough for a cup. I'm definitely out of luck. I decide to head to the local Starbucks after a quick shower. I dress in another pair of jeans I find in my closet and a blue tank top. I may have to go shopping while I'm here, since my wardrobe is back in New York. The clothes here are fine for a weekend, but I have no idea how long my dad's recovery will take.
I quietly tiptoe into the spare bedroom. I need the keys to Keegan's rental, but I don't want to wake him. Well, actually I don't want him to bully his way into taking me to get coffee. I spot his keys on the nightstand. I quickly grab them, glancing at the picture of my grandma before making a quiet run for the door. I take a deep breath and thank the stars he didn't wake. My heart is beating double time, but I have no time to waste so I immediately tiptoe down the stairs and out the door. I make sure I close the car door softly, and luckily when I start the engine it's quiet. I slowly pull out of the driveway to get my caffeine fix.
After getting my caramel macchiato, I take a small detour. I turn onto Rose Street, which is ironic since I'm heading to visit my grandmother Rose. I park the car in front of the duck pond that is located just across from my grandparents' graves. My father brought me here often when I was little. I remember my dad being sad, but he always gave me duck food to feed the ducks. There's even a portrait on our mantel of me sitting in front of the pond. My grandmother shares a headstone with my grandfather; he unexpectedly suffered a fatal heart attack when I was three years old. I don't have any memories of him. I always wished I at least had a few. From what I've been told, he was the love of my grandmother's life and her own prince charming. She never entertained the idea of marrying again. He was it for her, and he'd already completed her life by being a part of it.
I sit down in front of the headstone, my legs tucked underneath me. The chill in the air and cool gusts of wind make me hug myself. The cemetery is empty at this early hour, and that's what I want: to be alone with her.
"Hi Grams, it's me, Aimee," I say, feeling silly since I was her one and only grandchild.
/>
"I'm sure you already know that, but you know how I am." I let out a nervous giggle, because I'm having a one-sided conversation. I just wish she were still here to answer me.
"So, you probably know that Dad is sick. He's not here, but if he could be you know he would. I just wanted to talk to you, and I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while. I'm just really scared right now, about a lot of things." I pause, imagining her arms engulfing me in a much-needed hug.
"Remember when you said Keegan would finally get his head out of his ass and come running back to me? Well, it didn't exactly happen the way you said, but we found each other again, and it was just like a dream. Well, until it all fell apart. I know you've been watching, and saw how it all played out, and, well, now I'm a mess over Dad and all this Keegan drama that has my heart not knowing if it's coming or going."
I wipe a stray tear that is running down my cold cheek and replay everything that has happened in the last few days, and then the tears flow for what seems like forever. I cry for it all, my dad, grandma, and Keegan. The loss is excruciating for so many different reasons. Keegan is the only man besides my father that I have loved with my entire heart, unconditionally. Even though I don't want to love him, I do, because there isn't anyone else for me. Sure, I could wait till the pain of his betrayal dissipates and move on, like I did before, but that wouldn't be fair to anyone, or me. I tried doing that with Liam, and I don't even know if friendship will ever be an option for us.
"Boy, Grams, I'm a mess, a big fat ball of mistakes and regrets."
The wind whips a stray hair into my face, and because my face is wet from tears it just sticks to my cheek. I tuck it behind my ear and shift closer to the headstone. I feel like I'm trying to listen for a secret, or an answer that will solve my problems, but there is only the whistle of the wind through the trees.
"A sign, Gram, just a little sign to help me get through," I plead, but I get nothing. I sit in silence and just enjoy it. I'm disappointed, but I'm a little lighter since I've been here with my grams.
"Well, I need to go and check on Dad. He misses you too. He's all alone here, but he won't leave, and believe me I tried. He's stubborn and this is his home, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't mine too; it always will be. I'll come visit soon. I have a feeling I'm not going anywhere for a while."
I stand up and wipe the invisible dirt off my pants. I turn toward where my car is parked and look into the blue eyes I've dreamed of for so long. Well played, Grams, but he's still not getting off easy, if at all. He's given me a world of hurt that can't just disappear in a few days. Do I want to forgive him and get back what we lost? Of course I do, but having one conversation about it isn't enough. I don't know if ten thousand would be.
Keegan smiles at me, his arms and legs crossed, leaning on his car. His hair has that sexy just-got-out-of-bed look, and he's wearing jeans and a gray Henley that fits him snugly. He doesn't look mad, or upset. He's just waiting, and I have no idea how he got here, but one thing Keegan isn't is a quitter; if there is a way, he'll find it.
I notice he's holding a white bag and I'm instantly curious about what's inside. I straighten my shoulders and hold my head high as I walk over to him and prepare for another showdown.
"How did you know I'd be here?" I ask him.
"Lucky guess. I just had a feeling."
Keegan stands up straight and steps toward me. He is towering over me and he has a glint in his eye, like he is amused by something.
"Are you mad?" Like, enough to give up and go back to your exciting life in the city?
"You know, I probably should be, but I figured you would try and be all stealthy. I wouldn't quit your day job just yet to be a secret agent. "
"You were awake, weren't you?" I state, a little disappointed that he just let me sneak into his room and take off. Suddenly I'm a little less confident standing in front of him.
"Yeah, but Aimee, it's an old house and the floorboards creak. You also may want to think of having the door hinges oiled."
I think he's just trying to make me feel better about my lack of stealth skills.
"Are you okay? You've been crying, I can tell. Everything with your dad is okay?"
I look at him and realize with no make-up and my tear-stricken face that I must look a mess. I shouldn't care about my appearance around him, but I still do.
"I'm fine. My dad is fine, well, I haven't heard if there has been any change, and my tears are none of your concern."
I look at the bag he's holding. When he sees me eyeing it, he smirks.
"If you want to find out what's in here, you have to go somewhere with me, and before you say anything, it's not even eight yet, and visiting hours at the hospital don't begin until nine. I promise it's close and you'll like it."
Has he completely forgotten our rules? Keegan is always going to do whatever he wants, and I blame his parents for letting him get his way as a child.
"What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?"
"You want to go even if you think you don't, because you are going crazy wanting to know what's in here." He lifts the bag, teasing me. He's good, and for a moment I think about walking out of here and going straight to the hospital. What are they going to do, kick me out? But I'm hungry, and I think there might be something yummy in there. My decision is made for me as my stomach growls like a lion. Stupid hunger.
Keegan lifts one eyebrow as he hears the sounds coming from my traitorous stomach.
"Fine, but only because I don't want my stomach to start eating itself."
"Obviously." He grins and holds his hand out for the key to the car.
Huffing loudly, I reach into my pocket, pull out the key, and drop it slowly into his hand.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?"
I roll my eyes. How is it no matter how hard I try, he always seems to get his way?
Keegan opens the passenger door for me and without making eye contact with him I slide into the seat. He gets in on the driver side and places the white paper bag behind his seat.
"Don't even think of touching that bag," he warns.
I turn my head, holding in a smile as I place my cheek against the cool glass of the window. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how he just affected me.
"I guess it would be a waste asking you where you are taking me. I'd like to text Reese, in case you decide to kidnap me."
He lets out a deep laugh that sends goose bumps right up my spine. It's the kind of laugh that should be trademarked as Keegan's alone. It's all commanding and controlling, like he has it all figured out. That laugh is my answer, a big fat hell no.
I watch as we drive through town. It's the opposite of New York City, small, quiet, and serene. Not much ever happens here, which is surprising, being a college town. I could have stayed and attended Indiana University of Pennsylvania, or even gone to school in Pittsburgh, but I wanted to go to school where my mom did. There was no other school for me; I didn't even apply anywhere else.
Being here feels safe as I reminisce about the happy childhood I had here. Even with Keegan here, it's like I'm cocooned in a safety blanket.
The car turns down a gravel road, and I remember when I was growing up that this property was an old abandoned farm. I'm curious what could possibly be here that I would like.
When Keegan pulls the car to a stop in front of an ancient run-down barn, I'm nervous. This looks like the start to a horror flick, and I don't want to be the chick that gets axed.
I look around. I can't see anything else, but there's only a tiny house with graying wood. The roof is hanging over its porch and I'm positive no one lives inside.
Keegan opens my door, startling me. I look at him, not moving, and he waves that white bag in front of my face, taunting me, as if offering a dog a bone so it will listen to a command.
Call me Fido, because I grab the hand he offers and get out of the car. He runs into that scary-looking barn and I hope there isn't some guy with a chain saw in ther
e. After a few minutes, Keegan comes out holding a blanket. Thankfully no ax murderer, but I'm not convinced one isn't hiding in the trees.
"Come on, it's over here."
"Umm…what's over there? What's going on?" I ask defensively.
"Seriously, Aimee, why are you freaking out?"
I admit I've watched a few too many scary movies. I blame Reese for her addiction to all things gory. Who watches The Devil's Rejects five times in a row? My best friend, that's who. Why couldn't I have found a best friend who shares my love of everything Jamie Fraser?
"Well, you're not telling me why you've brought me here, and you bribed me with whatever is in that bag. If you want me to go any further, you're going to have to give up the goods," I say.
He walks back over and places the blanket on the hood of the car.
"Close your eyes, and no peeking. You can use that cute little nose of yours to smell what's inside."
"Keegan, you have got to be off your rocker, and maybe all this fresh air is messing with your head. I'm not sniffing what's in that bag." I feel like we are fourteen again and have fallen into our old camaraderie. He looks at me with determination and he isn't budging, so I do what Aimee does best and give in to Keegan James.
He knows he's won. "Close them," he commands.
I close my eyes, and all I hear is the wind blowing through the trees. I feel Keegan's body heat as he steps closer to me. He leans in and whispers, "Sniff."
The way he says it is all raspy and breathy, and as usual my body and my head are not on the same page. I seriously need to have a conversation with them about this.
I do as I'm told, and I smell sugary goodness that leaves me salivating. I chalk it up to hunger and not the way he is making my insides feel. Way too soon he pulls the bag away, and I suddenly want to pummel him, grab the bag, and run. He's really testing me, and one thing I don't mess around with is food. I've always had a strange addiction to it, and he knows exactly what he's doing. I want to be angry, but my stupid brain is telling me that if I don't have what's in that bag I might explode.