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Looking Real Good

Page 21

by C. Morgan


  “No,” I said firmly. “No sedative.”

  The nurse nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  We arrived outside my mother’s door. The furious yelling and screaming was louder here, and I knew it would be so much worse when the door opened. I glanced down at Kayla. “Are you sure you want to be here for this? I understand if you want to wait at the front desk.”

  “Lukas,” she said firmly, “nothing is going to scare me away, okay? I’m here for you. And your mother. Let’s see if we can help.”

  Damn. This girl was magic. Absolute magic.

  “Okay,” I said, feeling a little more confident. I nodded for the nurse that we were ready to go in.

  As soon as the door swung open, my mother’s shrieks reached an all-time high.

  She was standing in front of the window in her night dress. It was lilac colored and covered in bumblebees and flowers. The hemline was finished with lace. Her feet were bare, and her hair, permed a couple of weeks ago, was a wild mess. She looked around frantically until her eyes landed on me.

  “You!” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “You tell them to get their act together! Tell them they can’t treat me this way! Tell them I’m your wife and you’re going to sue them for trying to keep me here!”

  Wife. When my mother’s episodes got really bad, she always thought I was my father, the damn bastard.

  “David!” my mother shrieked. “Tell them!”

  I felt like a fool standing in the doorway not knowing a damn thing to say. My heart hammered away in my chest as my mother refused and resisted the aid from the nurses who were trying to see her safely back to her bed. Kayla’s hand still held mine, her grip tight as a vise, and I didn’t dare look over at her.

  One of the nurses spoke in gentle tones. “Mrs. Holt, that’s not your husband. That’s your son, Lukas. He heard you were having a hard night and he wanted to come see you.”

  My mother shot furious looks at the nurses. “Son? I don’t have a son. David, tell them we don’t have a son! Why am I here? Take me home. I want to go home.”

  My throat tightened.

  My mother’s gaze slid to Kayla. “And who’s this little tart?”

  “Mom,” I said sharply. But it was no use. She didn’t see me as her son.

  Kayla cleared her throat. “Hi, Mrs. Holt. I’m Kayla. We used to live near each other in the co-op apartments. I was that silly girl who was always knocking on your door asking if Lukas wanted to come outside and play kick the can with me and Lisa and the other neighborhood kids. You liked when I showed up because you always wanted a reason to kick Lukas off his computer. Do you remember how much time he spent on that thing?”

  Kayla’s words were spoken warmly, like from an old friend. She had the presence of mind to keep her cool and her kindness in the face of what always made me freeze.

  My mother blinked at Kayla.

  Kayla gestured at the chairs in the room. “Do you mind if we come in and sit with you for a little while?”

  My mother looked at the chairs and back at us. “I think that would be fine.”

  I wasn’t sure how Kayla had so effortlessly diffused the tense situation, but she had. She guided me by the hand into my mother’s room and the nurses slipped past us. They told me to come get them if we needed anything, but with Kayla by my side, I doubted we would.

  We took our seats.

  Kayla sat on the end of my mother’s bed. “It’s been a really long time since we last saw each other, Mrs. Holt.”

  “Call me Ally,” my mother said. “I always used to ask you to call me Ally. You were the girl with the pigtails and the skinned knees.”

  Kayla grinned. “That was me, yes.”

  “Your mother gave us apple pies on Sundays.”

  “Yes, she did.” Kayla nodded. “I always thought Lukas ate them all before he brought them home to you. I’m glad he resisted and shared.”

  My mother actually smiled. “Yes, he was always a good boy. He’s been taking care of me for as long as I can remember. Where is he, Kayla? Where is my son?”

  Her words hit me like a freight train.

  Kayla leaned closer to my mother and held out her hands. My mother reached for her and let Kayla wrap her hands around her own. Kayla ran her fingers over my mother’s knuckles.

  “Ally?” Kayla started. I could tell she was struggling to find the right words. “A lot has changed since we lived in those apartments. I have my own apartment now. I have a good job doing something I love. And so does Lukas. He’s grown up to be a really good man. You should be proud.”

  My mother’s eyes shone with tears. “He was always such a good boy. Always trying to take care of me.”

  “Well, he’s still taking care of you,” Kayla said. “He comes to visit you here all the time. I know it’s hard to remember. I forget things too. One day bleeds into the other, you know? But it’s important you know that he comes here all the time, and when he’s not here, he’s thinking of you. And you know what else?”

  My mother sat in rapture listening to Kayla talk about me. Meanwhile, I stood by, heart hammering in my chest, hating this disease that made it so my mother didn’t see me even though I was right there, and loving the girl who was saving us both a little bit of pain by sharing her kindness. The storm raged inside me.

  “What?” my mother breathed.

  “He helps strangers, too. He volunteers a lot of his time to help people in need. And well, he helps me too. I was very lonely before your son and I started growing close again. Now I feel better. I feel happy. Because of Lukas.”

  My mother smiled. “Lukas.”

  “Mom?” I asked.

  Her eyes slid up to me. “Our son is a good boy, David. Did you hear?”

  Kayla licked her lips and averted her gaze.

  I nodded. “Yes, I heard.”

  Sometimes, it wasn’t worth trying to correct her. Sometimes, it was best to roll with it and pray like hell the next time I came to see her she’d know who I was.

  “Lukas and I went trick or treating with some other kids tonight,” Kayla said. When my mother’s eyes lit up, Kayla told her all about our evening, and she painted the night like I was a kid again so as not to confuse my mother. At first, it stung a bit, but as I sat and listened, I realized that even though she was remembering the me from twenty years ago, she was still remembering me. And that was a treasure.

  At the end of the night, my mother no longer wanted to watch her Charlie Brown movie. She let us help her into bed, and once she was all tucked in, I leaned over her and kissed her forehead.

  “Goodnight,” I whispered.

  My mother closed her eyes. “Goodnight, David. See you in the morning.”

  Kayla and I slipped out into the hall. Neither of us said a word as I leaned against my mother’s closed door. Kayla sniffled.

  I looked down at her and found tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Please don’t cry,” I whispered.

  She wiped her tears away with frustration and shook her head. “I’m sorry. This isn’t fair of me. I just… I didn’t know, Lukas. I truly didn’t know that you were dealing with this all this time. I wish you’d told me.”

  “Sometimes, it’s nice to pretend this part of my life doesn’t exist,” I said. “It might sound cruel but it’s true. Now you know. The cat’s out of the bag. It’s not like this most of the time, but when it is…” I trailed off, unable to find the words to describe the hurt and the pain this caused me. To be forgotten by your own mother was a cruel fate that I wished on no one.

  Kayla wiped the last of her tears away.

  “We should go,” I said. I didn’t want to be there anymore.

  Chapter 34

  Kayla

  I turned on Lukas’ shower and held my hand under the water until it was hot. Steam rose in billows in the shower stall that reminded me of the fog on the campus grounds earlier that evening.

  Halloween town felt like it had happened such a long time ago. All the events of
the evening had all muddled together, leaving both of us reeling in the aftermath of coming face to face with Ally’s terrible disease.

  Lukas hadn’t said a word since we got in the taxi and rode back to his place. I didn’t push him. If our roles were reversed and I was in his shoes, I doubted I’d have anything to say, either. He was hurting. That much was obvious. And all I could do to help was show him that I was there.

  Sometimes, the best way to do that was to help them do the little things that seemed like so much effort when they were drowning.

  So once the water was hot, I started peeling his Halloween costume off him.

  Lukas let me. He stood still, eyes cast down to the floor, his mind probably playing a reel of memories where his mother knew him as her son, and I stripped his vest off. His shirt came next, followed by the sash, plastic sword, boots, and balloon pirate pants. When he was down to his boxers, I turned him around to face the spray of water. I fetched a face cloth from under his bathroom cabinets, got it wet, and gently began wiping the makeup from his face.

  He muttered a hollow thank you.

  I ran the cloth over his eyelids. He kept his eyes closed in the wake of the cloth and I went to the tips of my toes to kiss his jaw, cheeks, and chin. I hoped he understood my silent way of telling him I loved him.

  Once his makeup was wiped away, I stripped him out of his boxers and guided him into the shower. Lukas didn’t protest, but he didn’t start washing himself either, so I discarded my costume as well and joined him under the hot stream of water.

  It felt good standing there naked under the water. I pulled him in close and wrapped my arms around his waist. He hesitated for a brief moment before engulfing me in an embrace and bowing his head so his cheek rested against mine.

  I turned my face to his and kissed him. He kissed me back, slow and gentle, and I turned him around so he was under the water. It ran down the sides of his face and settled in the corners of our mouths as we kissed.

  When we broke apart, I took his hand and pumped a dollop of shampoo into his palm. I told him to massage his scalp, and while he did that, I washed his body. The whole shower smelled like cedar and oranges.

  When I was finished, we stayed in the hot water and kissed. His body felt good against mine, but not in the way it had felt before. The lust wasn’t there like it used to be. Instead, I felt close to him. Painfully close. Each kiss left me wanting more of him—more of his heart, soul, and spirit. He poured more of himself into me as he backed me up against the glass shower wall.

  I almost said it when we broke apart. I almost muttered those three little words to him in that moment. I knew I loved him. But this hardly seemed like the right time. He was hurting deeply. I could see it in the permanent furrow in his brow and the depths of his eyes that the pain he felt was deep and sharp. I could tell he needed healing, not promises of love that he might not be able to return in his state.

  I turned off the water. Lukas let me towel him dry before I dried off too. I tied my wet hair in a tight knot on top of my head and followed him into the bedroom, where he collapsed onto the bed with a tired sigh. I pulled the blankets up over him and kissed him.

  He caught my wrist when I turned away. “Stay.”

  I ran my fingers through his wet hair. “You need to sleep.”

  “And I will,” he said. “But please stay. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

  He rolled over and I climbed into bed beside him. I had barely fluffed my pillow when he caught me for a kiss, his hand cupping my cheek, his other hand reaching down to grip my thigh and pull my leg up to hook it over his hip.

  I pressed in against him and reached down to stroke his cock. Lukas’ breath hitched in his throat and his pulse fluttered against my fingertips as I ran a hand along his neck. I worked him over slowly as our kisses deepened and our bodies began to take over. I rolled my hips, desperate to be touched, and Lukas responded by rolling over and pinning me beneath him.

  In the dark bedroom, I could just make out his eyes. He watched me for a moment as I lay beneath him. For a moment, I thought he was going to say something but he descended on me for kisses instead. He dropped his hips. His cock rubbed against me and I moaned softly. A plea for more.

  Lukas worked his way down the length of my body and got comfortable between my thighs. I watched as he licked and tasted me. He gripped my thighs as I reached my hands over my head and clung to his headboard. A rumbling sound of satisfaction rippled through him as he suckled and teased until my head buzzed with euphoria after my first release.

  He crawled back up and over, reaching across to the nightstand where he retrieved a condom. I watched him roll it on and spread my legs for him. He went to his knees, pushed my legs back, and slid inside me. I gasped.

  Lukas bowed over me and went to his elbows. He rolled his hips, his body grinding against mine, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I used my heels against his buttocks to guide him deeper. He groaned against the side of my neck as he worshiped me with kisses, and as I grew breathless beneath him, he stole kisses.

  The sex was nothing like the other times we’d been together. This was slow and sensual, intimate and steady.

  We were making love.

  I clung to his shoulders. My nails pressed into his skin and I pressed my head deep into the pillows, exposing my throat. He rewarded me with more kisses as another orgasm rippled through me. My toes curled and my pussy tightened. I was swollen and sensitive, and Lukas maintained his steady rhythm. He stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. He cupped my cheek and ran his thumb along my jaw. He watched me as I came, the sorrow I saw in him before now gone.

  Our lips crashed together as he closed in on his climax. I held him as he groaned and strained. My world slipped away and there was nothing but Lukas as he gave in to the pleasure. The kisses deepened until we could hardly breathe, and we fell apart, both of us lying on our backs staring up at the ceiling.

  I closed my eyes when he got out of bed to take off the condom and clean up, and I waited for him to slide back in and wrap me up in his arms.

  I woke to birds chirping outside Lukas’ bedroom window. My hair was still a bit damp from being tied in a bun all night, so when I got out of bed and went to the bathroom, I let it down. It fell in loose curls around my shoulders and smelled like Lukas’ citrus shampoo.

  I crept out of the bathroom while Lukas slept and I put on his bathrobe that I found hanging off the back of his bedroom door. It was plush and dark blue, almost indigo, and definitely too big for me. It probably hit him mid shin, but on me, it nearly touched the floor.

  I headed for the kitchen and struggled to find light switches as I went. His home was a sprawling masterpiece and I still wasn’t familiar with where everything was. As I explored his kitchen looking for things to make breakfast, I realized this might be quite the challenge. He had so many cupboards it took me ages to find his frying pans and even longer to find a cutting board. Once I had all my supplies lined up on the counter, I ventured to his fridge, which was stocked full with everything I needed to make us omelettes and toast.

  I pulled red peppers, onion, mushrooms, cheese, eggs, and the carton of milk out of the fridge. As I was balancing it precariously in my arms and carrying it to the counter, I heard footsteps from around the corner.

  “Good morning,” I called as I caught a runaway egg that tried to roll off the counter. “I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed. I didn’t think you’d be up so early. Do you want a cup of coffee? I can—”

  I broke off when I looked up and realized the footsteps I heard weren’t Lukas’.

  They were Lisa’s.

  Oh shit.

  Lisa stared at me in her brother’s bathrobe, standing in his kitchen like a domesticated housewife about to make him breakfast. Her mouth opened and formed shapes, but no words came out.

  My heart raced and my stomach rolled over.

  “Lisa,” I said. “I can explain. I know this doesn’t look good.”

>   “What the hell are you doing here?”

  I swallowed. How could I explain this to her without her feeling like I’d driven a knife in her back?

  I walked around the kitchen island toward her. “Lisa, I’m so sorry. This isn’t how we wanted you to find out.”

  “We?”

  I looked at my feet. “Me and Lukas.”

  “You and Lukas?” she asked incredulously. “There’s a you and Lukas? What the fuck, Kayla? Are you fucking my brother?”

  My cheeks burned and my palms started to get clammy. “It’s not about the sex, Lisa.”

  “So that’s a yes? You are fucking my brother? Where is he? Lukas!”

  “Lisa, please,” I begged. “He had a really rough night. Let’s not do this right now. He’s not the one you should be mad at. I am. I’m your best friend. I’m the one who crossed the line.”

  “You’re damn right you crossed a line,” Lisa seethed. “I can’t believe you!”

  I heard the bedroom door open. My insides twisted into a tight knot as I heard Lukas coming down the hall. He rounded the corner in nothing but a pair of sweats. He rubbed his eyes and still looked half asleep when he dropped his hands and spotted his sister. He looked from her to me, and back to Lisa again.

  “What the hell are you screaming about, Lisa?” Lukas asked.

  I groaned. That wasn’t the right approach at all.

  “What am I screaming about?” Lisa planted her hands on her hips and laughed without humor at the ceiling. “I’ve just discovered that my brother and my best friend are fooling around behind my back. I never expected this kind of betrayal from either of you.”

  “Betrayal?” Lukas asked. He shook his head in disbelief. “Lisa, I don’t owe you an explanation about who I’m seeing. I can’t help who I—”

  “Don’t give me that shit, Lukas,” Lisa spat.

  My mind spun. What was he going to say? He couldn’t help who he what?

 

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