The Reconstruction of Cyprian

by Michelle Love

  “I know,” I interrupt him. “I’ll call you. Now go home. Mother went back to Los Angeles yesterday. It’ll make me feel better to know you’re at home, having a hurricane party rather than sitting with me at my place, bored and lonely.”

  With a pat on my back, he leaves me without saying another word. In his defense, he’s been trying to talk me into going home with him the entire day.

  Going to the bathroom, I run my hand through my hair and look at my reflection. “Who are you trying to change yourself for?”

  Shaking my head, I go back into the hospital room and sit in the chair my father left vacant. I don’t know how to explain to anyone why I feel the need to make changes in myself. Everything looks rosy, on the surface. Inside, I’m a mess.

  Twice I’ve done sexual shit that’s gotten me on Cami’s bad side. I can’t seem to learn the difference between right and wrong. To have been taught that, early on, would’ve been helpful.

  A lesser man would stand on the fact he was taught deviant sexual practices and that would be that. Women would comply or he’d simply not deal with them.

  So, why am I so hung up on Camilla Petit?

  She clearly doesn’t care for me. Leaving me like this, proves that much. But I still care for her. As a matter of fact, I need to try to call her to make sure she’s got somewhere safe to be, during the hurricane. If she’ll answer my call that is.

  My cell phone is still at home. Once I get there, I will attempt to contact her and make sure she’s okay. I don’t care if she hates me or not, I will not let her anger stop her from being someplace safe for the storm. Her little duplex apartment is nowhere nearly good enough for her to ride the storm out.

  The door opens and in sweeps the doctor. “Hey there, Mr. Girard. Are you ready to leave us?”

  I get up and shake his hand. “I am.” Lifting up my shirt, I show him the stitches which look excellent. “See, it looks great, don’t you think?”

  He nods and writes on a paper on his clipboard. “It does. If you can sign all these papers for me, I’ll get you a wheelchair and a nurse and you will be on your way. You’re doing so well. I think all that worry over having full time nurses around you was a bit too much. You’ll be fine. Did your staff at home manage to get you set up for this hurricane we’re about to have?”

  “They did,” I tell him as I sign page after page of release papers. “I’ll be fine. The place is huge.”

  “Oh, I know. I saw it just a couple of days ago. An ex-student of mine lives out that way. She and I met again when she was here in the hospital. It had been a few years since I had seen her and something just sparked inside of me when I saw her again. No longer my student and she was available, had me asking her out to dinner and she accepted. We had a nice night out. I’m hoping to see her again soon but she told me she’s just coming off a bad semi-relationship, she didn’t want to talk about.”

  My hackles start rising as he goes on about this woman he’s looking forward to dating. I sign the last page and hand him back his clipboard. “So, she’s a neighbor of mine?” I ask him and feel my stomach going tight.

  “Yes, she pointed out your estate. She said she heard about your hospital stay from the news and asked if I knew anything about how you were doing.”

  When he says nothing else, I ask, “And you told her?”

  He shakes his head. “I told her I wasn’t allowed to talk about my patients.”

  With a nod, I find myself asking him, “And her name is?”

  “Camilla.”

  Mother fucker!

  “I think she’s one of the cashiers at that convenience store at the edge of town. I think I’ve seen her before. Long, dark, curly hair, right?”

  He nods and smiles. “Her hair is gorgeous. Her eyes are like jewels, don’t you think?”

  “I really haven’t looked at her that hard. She’s a bit on the thick side,” I say, trying to get him to stop liking her.

  “Her curves are incredible,” he says as he shakes his head. “And man, don’t get me started on her plump, completely kissable lips. Man!”

  Suddenly, I feel terrible. “Guess I just didn’t look at her the right way. You think you two might hit it off?”

  “I hope so. She’s a great girl. And a hell of a scientist. She will do amazing things one day, mark my words.” He walks toward the door to leave. “You have to wait for your ride out. But you’re free to go as soon as they come for you.”

  He leaves and I sit on the bed and look out the window at the clouds that are starting to roll in quite heavily. All I can think about is she went out with someone else. She has to be done with me. And now a doctor is after her.

  A normal man with money and a career. A great catch for a normal girl, like herself. And she should have a great guy. She really should. Who am I to stand in her way?

  A male nurse comes in, pushing an old wheelchair. “Your chariot, sir.” He gives me a grin.

  I take a seat and say nothing. My mood is grim, to say the least. He wheels me away as I think about Cami and my doctor and them having an evening out. Dinner, dancing, drinks, normal shit like that!

  Jealousy is coursing through me, sending terrible thoughts into my head. Thoughts that shouldn’t be there. Things like going to get her and dragging her to my place where I’ll keep her until she teaches me how to be the man she needs.

  If she’d write me a manual, then I could follow it and she’d never have to look for another man again. I’d be her everything. I’d be all she would ever need or want in a man.

  The glass doors slide open and I point to the BMW, Ashton is picking me up in. “There he is.”

  Ashton sees us and gets out of the car to open the back door. “Classy,” the nurse says as Ashton tips his hat at us.

  “Thank you, sir,” Ashton says as I get up and get into the car.

  Just as the door closes, I recall my doctor saying he met her in the hospital. That means she did come to see me. But what the hell happened? Did she meet him again and just blow me off?

  That seems unlikely. But what did send her away without seeing me…

  Chapter 2

  CAMILLA

  “Do you have any more toilet paper in the back?” a woman asks me, excitedly.

  “No, sorry. We’re all out,” I tell her as I scan the three cases of water she’s buying. “Are you completely out at home?”

  “No, I’ve got about twenty rolls but you never know what might happen with a hurricane. It might be days and days before the stores open back up,” she says as she scans the store for anything else she might want to horde.

  “I’m sure we’ll all be back up and running in no time, ma’am. Will this be all, today?” I ask her as I try to ignore the tons of other customers who are literally taking everything off the shelves they can.

  The woman looks over my shoulder at the six cans of soup I bought myself before they were all gone. “Can I have those?”

  “I bought them, already. So, will there be anything else?”

  She pulls out a hundred-dollar bill and places it on the counter. “I’ll trade you this for that soup. All six cans.” Her dark brown eyes hold mine as she is dead serious.

  Politely, I push the money back to her. “No, ma’am. Your total is sixteen, fifty.”

  “I only have enough food at home for nine days. I may need that soup. Please,” she stomps her foot as she says the word, totally negating it.

  “Nine days, you say! Wow!” I shake my head and pick up the cans of soup and put them in a bag and hide them under the counter so no one else sees them and tries to take the only food I’ll have.

  Slamming a twenty down, she glares at me as if I’ve committed a horrible crime. I make her change and watch her leave, carrying all the heavy bottled water.

  The next person in line steps up. “And I’ll be needing three hundred dollars worth of gas on pump 1. That’s me in the truck in that spot,” a small red-haired man tells me.

  “I can’t set the pump for that
amount. How about ninety dollars, that’s more than enough to get you through this hurricane.” I wait to see what he says as he seems to be getting upset.

  “I have tons of old milk jugs in the back of the truck. I can handle the load,” he says. “Make the sales in increments. That’ll work.”

  “No, it won’t. You see, I can’t allow you to get gasoline in a container that’s not approved for it. You can’t fill up old milk jugs with it. Sorry. I can let you fill up your truck but nothing else, unless you have an approved gasoline container.” I watch as he turns a shade of red I haven’t see on a human before.

  “Look, I need that gas. So just take my money and turn the damn pump on for me. Don’t look at where I’m putting the gas. I won’t tell anyone about it.”

  With a sigh, I shake my head and look out at the store that’s gone crazy. The cooler is bare, the shelves are too and the sudden onset of beeping tells me this man is really going to be upset. “That beeping sound means the underground tanks are empty. We have no more gasoline, sir,” I tell him and watch him explode.

  His fit is huge and I’m reminded of Yosemite Sam in those old cartoons as he blows his top. Gina manages to get the loud beeping to go away but the effect it had on our customers is still going.

  It seems to have sent them into a frenzy, even worse than they were before. A sudden crack of lightning has everyone going quiet. Then someone shouts, “Shit! It’s here!”

  With no more time to waste, the man stops his fit and hauls ass out the door, presumably to get to another gas station before all is lost. I go into automated mode and scan things like a robot, taking money and making change like a champ.

  Gina and I work, side by side, to clear up the customers and get them out the door. With a few more swipes of the last of the merchandise our store had, we are done.

  I hurry to lock the doors and turn off the outside lights. Gina closes her register as I look at the empty store. “Man, the first day back is going to be a nightmare too.”

  “It is,” she agrees. “But that’ll be day shift’s problem, not ours, thank God. Hurry up and close down your register. We need to get the hell out of here.”

  Moving back to my register, I quickly take the money out to drop it in the safe and punch in the code to shut it down. The machine has worked more than it’s ever had to before, with all the sells it had to make on this crazy day.

  Just as we get it all finished, the wind picks up. The howling of it makes me shiver and I find the rain is falling in sheets. “We’re going to get wet,” Gina says as we look out the glass door.

  The windows have been boarded up and we were instructed to place a piece of plywood on the door before we left. It’s leaning against the wall next to it and I don’t see us being able to accomplish the act, now the wind has picked up.

  Gina picks up the hammer and six nails that were left for us to do the job. “I’ll hold it up and you hammer,” I say as I pick up the heavy thing.

  Then into the rain we go. Me with the heavy board and Gina with the things to put it up with. I can hardly see as the rain pelts me in the face. The wind has it coming at us, sideways.

  Gina locks the door then I do my best to get the large piece of wood to the door and hold it while she hammers in the nails until all six are used. She tosses the hammer in the empty ice container and locks it up.

  Finished, we can go home. So, we go to get into our cars, soaking wet and cold. “Good luck,” I call out to her.

  “You too, Camilla. Hope to see you soon!”

  Getting into my car, I’m a shaking, shivering mess. I start the car and ease out of the parking lot, barely able to see as the rain is coming down so hard.

  We should’ve closed an hour ago but with the onslaught of people we didn’t make it out before the storm hit us, even though we were told to close the store early, we’re barely making it out at midnight.

  I can go about fifteen miles an hour and even that seems too fast. The road is covered with water. The windshield wipers are doing nothing to help me see. I’m most likely going to end up in a damn ditch.

  Am I doomed to spend this hurricane in a ditch with nothing between me and the storm but my car…

  Chapter 3

  CYPRIAN

  The rain is pouring and the thunder is rumbling so loudly, I can hear it before I open the garage door. I’m going out to get Cami. She hasn’t answered her cell phone for me at all. But I saw the hordes of people at her store and her car there, so I know she was merely swamped and not ignoring my calls. It’s midnight and I’d assume she’s made it home but I can’t let her stay there.

  Taking the four-wheel-drive truck, I make my way out of the garage and am met with a torrential downpour. I knew it was bad out here but not this bad!

  I have to go slowly down the driveway that has water flowing down it as if it’s a stream instead of a paved road. I have to roll my window down to punch in the code to open the gate and get soaked doing it.

  As I pull out of the gate, I see a set of headlights to the left and turn toward them to see if that’s her. The car is barely moving as I go toward it. The rain’s so hard, I can’t tell if it’s her until I get right on it.

  Rolling my window down as I see it is her, I wave at her to follow me and turn around and drive around to get in front of her. My large truck will shield some of the rain and make it easier for her to drive, I hope.

  Going at a snail’s pace, I pick up my cell and call her. “Cyprian,” she answers the call.

  “Follow me to my place,” I say in as a commanding tone as I dare to with the tenacious woman.

  “I’m not about to argue with you. I’m freaking out right now. I was thinking I’d have to spend the storm in a ditch or worse. Your place sounds like Heaven to me. I also left the soup I got myself to eat, while I ride out the storm, at the store. So, I was going to be starving too. Thank you.”

  Relieved to hear she’s grateful and won’t be a pain in the ass about my help, I say, “Good, and I have tons of food, just follow me, Cami.” I end the call as I want her full attention on driving and find myself smiling like an idiot as I look at her headlights in my rearview mirror.

  I’m going to have her home with me and she cannot leave anytime soon as the hurricane will keep her ass trapped with me. I realize that sounds a little creepy but I’ll take her any way I can get her.

  Finally, we get to the gate again and I’m soaked once more as I roll the window down to put the code in. The gate opens and in we go, all the way to the garage. I open two of the doors, so she can pull into a place I made for her, just in case I did manage to get her here.

  Once I have the garage doors shut behind us, I feel so much better. Getting out of the truck, I realize just how wet I am and when I see her, I find she’s completely drenched. “My Lord, look at you!”

  She gives me a frown. “I’m freezing, Cyprian. Do you think I could borrow some of your cozy pajamas?”

  I nod and take her hand, leading her inside the warm house. “Of course. A nice hot shower is what you should take first. I’ll warm us up something to eat while you do that. You can sleep in the bedroom across the hall from mine.”

  I catch her smiling. “That’s very nice of you. Thank you. Were you looking for me, or on your way out?”

  “Looking for you. I tried to call you several times but I saw you were busy at work. I was going to ask you to come here, anyway. That little apartment of yours isn’t sturdy enough, in my opinion.” I lead her up the stairs and to the room across the hall from mine.

  When I open the door, she looks around and whistles. “Man, this is a hell of a lot nicer than where I was going to spend this hurricane. I had planned on making the tub my bed for the duration of the storm. You know, in case parts of my house blew away.”

  I shudder at the thought then say, “The bathroom is fully stocked and I’ve already taken the privilege of putting some things for you to wear in the closet and the drawers. I had bought you some things if you’ll reca
ll.” I gesture for her to go inside. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done. I’ll be waiting to eat with you.”

  She turns to look at me with a quizzical expression. “You were planning on me staying, huh?”

  “I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Your safety is more important to me than almost anything. I was prepared to throw you over my shoulder and bring you, kicking and screaming, if I had to.” Then I close the door and leave her alone.

  I’m trying so hard to keep my hopes at a moderate level that she will see fit to forgive me. I know there can be nothing physical right now, anyway. That does take the pressure, to get her into my bed, off.

  After changing into dry clothes, a dark brown set of pajamas, I go to the kitchen and open a bottle of expensive red wine and take a tray of lobster rolls, my chef left for me, out and pop them into the oven I already had heating up. I see a casserole dish of homemade mac and cheese and pop that into the oven as well. A salad is in another bowl and I take it out and place it into a nice crystal bowl and decide to set the table in the small dining area that has large windows, so we can watch the storm while we eat by the fire’s light of the fireplace that’s in that room.

  I find long white candles in the cutlery cabinet in the room and find the set of dishes I want to use too. I smile all the while as I place a deep red table cloth over the small, round table.

  White dishes accent it perfectly and I find the scene gorgeous and more romantic than any meal we’ve consumed together thus far. And I pray many more will come.

  The sound of the oven timer beeping has me going back to the kitchen and finding the food is nearly ready. Our salads and wine, I take back to place on the table and then go back to get the dishes out of the oven.

  When I walk back in, I see her, standing at the island in the middle of the large kitchen. Her feet are bare and she has on the deep blue, silk pajama set I bought for her on our day long date.

  Her hair is wet and hanging in loose spiral curls around her freshly washed face. “You look gorgeous.”