How Long Is Forever?

by Erin M. Leaf

  Eva glared at her friend. “The guy you twisted my arm into meeting for you told me I was too tall. Story of my life. I am never going on one of your dates for you again.” Not that I would anyway, now that I’m with Charlie, she thought, and a little spasm of happiness tripped her heart again. She pushed the tiniest bit of unease down into the darkest recesses of her brain. Charlie had been lovely this morning. So what if he still insisted she was too young for him? It was too late now. He had her, but more importantly, she had him, and she wasn’t about to give him up. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  “Yes, yes, he was a jerk. I don’t care. Focus, Eva,” Kyra said impatiently, snapping her fingers. “The hickey? Explain, before I lose my mind.”

  “Your inability to control your curiosity isn’t my problem,” Eva said, shrugging. She tried to play it cool, but her friend’s expression told her she’d failed, big time.

  “I swear to God, Eva—” Kyra began, but Eva cut in before she could work her way into a full-blown tizzy.

  “Fine! Fine, I’ll tell you,” Eva said, chewing on her lower lip. Kyra put her hands on her hips impatiently. Eva sighed. “Okay. So, you know that guy I like? Friend of my dad’s? He came over to clean out the back gutters on Sunday. It was pouring. I had a massive leak into my living room.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Kyra said, her voice rising higher with every “wait”. “You mean that giant dude, Charlie Green-something? The investment guy?” Kyra’s eyes went wide.

  “He’s not an analyst anymore. He started a boutique carpentry business with his cousin. They build tiny houses and redo campers and stuff like that,” Eva said. She didn’t know what Charlie retiring from his first career had to do with anything. It didn’t matter to her. She loved Charlie for Charlie, not because of what he did for a living. Her friend, however, looked like she was about to keel over from astonishment. “And yes. Charlie Greenwood. He’s nice.” Even as she said the words, she winced. Her friend never went for “nice”.

  “Nice? Uh-huh. Whatever.” Kyra flapped her hand. “You’re talking about the hot-as-hell dude who is, like, six feet ten, and built like a brick wall? Not to mention he’s a zillion years older than you? Mr. Silver Fox guy? The one you’ve been crushing on since forever? That guy?”

  “He’s not that tall,” Eva said defensively. She liked that he was tall. She didn’t ever have to worry about him being all weird about her height. Charlie was tall enough and strong enough to pick her up, and that was only one of his many amazing qualities.

  “Well, not for you, Ms. Amazon,” Kyra retorted. “But for us mere mortals, he’s a bit intimidating.” She tilted her head. “I can’t even imagine having sex with a dude like that. He could probably break me in two with one hand.” She smirked. “He must have a ginormous cock.”

  Eva glared. “He’s taken,” she said curtly, images of said cock dancing through her brain. He was a tad large, not that she had anything to compare him to except her toys. “Taken by me, Kyra,” she added, just to make things clear. “And he’s not intimidating at all. He’s the perfect height, if you ask me.” And he likes that he can let go with me, because I’m not tiny, she reminded herself. She remembered the way he’d picked her up, as if she weighed nothing, and flushed.

  Kyra laughed. “Easy, girl. I’m not after your man. I’m just after the details.” She grinned impishly. “The juicer the better.”

  Eva spun around in her chair, giving her friend her back. There was no way she could deal with Kyra with the memory of Charlie going down on her fresh in her mind’s eye. “Go away, Kyra. I’m not kissing and telling.”

  Kyra propped a hip on her desk, making it impossible for Eva to ignore her. “Seriously, though, Eva. Are you okay?” She asked, smoothing a hand down her pink and black patterned pencil skirt. “This guy is really is a lot older than you. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  Hurt me? Charlie? Eva glanced up, confused. Kyra was frowning, and Eva read genuine concern in her eyes. “I’m fine. Charlie is wonderful,” she said quietly, thinking of all the ways he’d made her feel special. She especially liked the way he’d let her drive their lovemaking, always checking in with her before he did anything, and never pushing her beyond her comfort zone. “He gets me, Kyra. And he’s not too big for me, and he’s definitely not too old, even though he thinks he is. He tried to tell me that I should find someone my own age.” She frowned, still annoyed over that particular weirdness. Weren’t men supposed to like younger women? “Which is ridiculous. After everything I’ve been through, I can’t really relate to younger guys. They’re shallow. They don’t understand what’s really important in life.”

  Kyra swung her leg. “I know,” she said, finally dropping her gossipy persona and letting the bestie that Eva loved peek out. “That’s why I’m always trying to fend off my mother’s matchmaking. She picks guys that don’t understand me. She has no idea what I want, or what’s important to me. I’m not looking for some rich husband.” She shook her head. “I want someone I can relate to.”

  “And it’s frustrating, right?” Eva asked, seeing that her friend got it. “And more importantly, all those other guys can’t relate to me. I’m always too tall, too fat, or too smart for them. But Charlie is taller, bigger, and he might be just as smart as I am.” Eva allowed herself a tiny grin at how he’d react to that statement. He’d probably laugh and argue that he was smarter, and Eva would argue back, and then they’d end up in bed again. He really was her perfect guy. If only he’d realize it, and stop pretending that what they had was temporary.

  “You seem really happy, Eva,” Kyra said, standing up. “And you know that if you’re happy, I’m happy.” She frowned. “But,” she said, raising a finger. “If he hurts you, it doesn’t matter how big he is. I’ll have to kick his ass, and it won’t be pretty.”

  Eva shook her head, smiling as she pictured her tiny friend trying to kick Charlie. The image was ludicrous. “He won’t. I won’t let him.” She sat back in her chair. “You know me. I won’t let him do that.”

  Kyra just huffed, and then stalked off to her desk. Her confident swagger was somewhat broken by another explosive sneeze. It had better be allergies, Eva thought, amused, and still somewhat grossed out. If it isn’t, I may have to kick her ass.

  ****

  It wasn’t allergies.

  Eva reclined on her sofa on Friday night, blowing her nose and coughing into a quickly disintegrating tissue as she dialed Charlie’s number. It hadn’t even been a week since she and Charlie had made love for the first time, and here she was. Sick. If Kyra were standing in front of her, Eva would be tempted to smack her for not covering her mouth when she’d sneezed all over her. She’d had plans for the weekend, and they didn’t involve hacking up a lung.

  “Eva? Hey, how are you feeling? Any better? What did the doctor say?” Charlie asked when he answered her call.

  “I can’t make it to dinner, Charlie. I’m sick as a dog,” she rasped into her phone, grimacing at the finger-smudged screen. She’d have to disinfect it, along with everything else in her entire house. She had the plague. She’d been to see the doctor and had the antibiotics to prove it, since the stupid virus Kyra had given her had turned into a weird bacterial thing in her throat in record time. Who in the hell got this sick in only a few days’ time? “It actually hurts to talk. The doctor told me it’s strep on top of the cold virus, of all things. Ugh.”

  “Oh honey, that’s terrible,” Charlie said, concern evident in his tone. “I’ll bring soup when I come over later.”

  “No!” Eva cringed, thinking of how awful she looked. “You really don’t have to,” she said, wishing she were one of those women who looked pretty and luminous and tragic while sick. She wasn’t. She was the kind of girl who looked like she had leprosy. “I won’t be any fun to hang with. And you don’t want to catch this. Trust me, Charlie.” She coughed into her tissue again. “You really don’t want to catch this.”

  He laughed. “If I was going to catch it, I would�
�ve caught it sometime this week. I’ve been at your place every night, remember?”

  Eva flushed, which was quite a feat, considering that her fever already had her all hot and bothered. “I remember,” she whispered, giving up on her voice altogether. She’d been coughing since Monday night, but they’d both thought it was just a regular cold virus. Last night she’d been so tired they hadn’t done anything more than cuddle on the couch. When she’d woken up the next morning, she’d discovered that Charlie had carried her to bed and tucked her in. She had no memory of him doing it, and then he’d left her a cute note and a glass of orange juice on her nightstand. If she hadn’t already been in love with him, that would’ve done it for her. And then she’d tried to stand up and had found out that she was way sicker than she’d thought. She’d had to stay home from work. And even after all that, he still insists that he’s too old for me, and this is a short-term thing. Ha. He’s deluding himself, she thought, warmed by his concern.

  “I’m coming over, and I’m taking care of you, and you’re not going to argue with me,” Charlie said firmly. “I’ll bring you some chicken soup. And you’ll eat it.”

  This isn’t the argument I want to have, she thought, wiping her nose again. I’d rather fight over who gets to be on top next time.

  “Eva?”

  “Okay, fine,” she said, giving in way too easily. But honestly, she didn’t have the energy to disagree with him. She felt like crap, and Charlie always made her feel better. “I like chicken soup,” she rasped, then coughed again.

  “Oh, baby. You sound like an old woman with a three pack a day habit,” he laughed softly. “Hang in there. I’ll see you soon.” Charlie disconnected the call before she could say anything.

  I’m not old. Eva stared at her cell phone’s screen. Okay, then. He claims he doesn’t want me to get attached, and then he takes care of me while I’m sick. Typical male logic, my mom would say, she thought, smiling fondly. He has no idea how much he already cares, the big idiot. She let her phone fall onto the cushions and closed her eyes. She woke sometime later to the sound of her front door opening.

  “Charlie?” He was the only one besides herself who had a key. It had better be Charlie, and not my creepy uncle. She hadn’t heard a peep from Albert since Charlie had run him and his sleazy friend off, thank God. She struggled to sit up, then gave up as a wave of vertigo swamped her. “Oh, ugh,” she said, then grimaced. Her throat hurt like hell.

  “The one and only,” Charlie said, kicking the door shut with his foot. “Who else would it be? I’m the only one with a key to your house.” He was juggling two bags of food, and from the scent, Eva could tell one of them held chicken soup. He smiled at her when their gazes met. “Hey, there, sweetheart. How are you doing?”

  “Hey, Charlie,” she whispered, making a face at the pain in her throat. She tried to sit up again, but he frowned at her.

  “Don’t you dare get up.” He dropped a kiss on her head on his way to the kitchen. “I’ll get you something that’ll make it easy to eat on so you don’t have to come to the table.”

  Eva watched him head for her kitchen. Five minutes later he reemerged with a tray. He set it on her coffee table and helped her sit up.

  “I’m sorry to be such a bother,” she said.

  “You’re not a bother. You’re sick,” Charlie said, handing her a spoon. “Eat as much as you can. I’ll take care of everything else.”

  Eva sighed, but then he gave her a look. She gave in and started eating. A half hour later, she’d managed to consume three-quarters of her soup and a few crackers. Her throat still felt like someone had run sandpaper over it. “Thanks, Charlie.”

  “Of course,” he said, setting his empty soup carton on the tray. “I’ll clean this up in a minute. You just sit tight, okay?”

  Eva nodded, watching Charlie stuff the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. I really wish I weren’t sick. It’s not every day that a hot guy waits on me hand and foot. What a wasted opportunity, she thought, feeling sorry for herself. She coughed, then blew her nose again. She felt a little better, enough to realize Charlie looked tired. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with his company logo on it, so she knew he’d come straight from work. He’d told her a couple days ago that he and his cousin were trying to finish up a tiny home for a client, and he’d been working late all week. A stray bit of sawdust still clung to his sleeve, and she wished she were well enough to brush it off for him. “I hate that you have to see me like this.”

  “It’s no big deal, honey. Everyone gets sick.” Charlie gathered up the soup she hadn’t been able to finish, and balled up his empty sandwich wrapper, then tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “You need rest, Eva. Just try and get some sleep.” He stood up then, and went to the kitchen to dispose of the mess.

  She sighed. “I’m tired of resting.” Her voice came out half whisper, but she knew he heard her.

  He smiled at her after he came back to the living room. “I know you’re tired of resting, baby. Being sick sucks.”

  “I’m not a baby,” she said, annoyed. He always said that, and most of the time she knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but this time she couldn’t help thinking of how much he hated their age difference. Having him call her “baby” just emphasized that he was more than a decade older than she was. And it shouldn’t matter. She was an adult, dammit! But she wanted to be a healthy adult, so she could strip off his clothes and have her way with him, and instead she was sitting on the sofa wearing her ratty old sweatshirt and mismatched socks. The truth was that despite her bold words to Kyra, somewhere deep inside, she was afraid that he wouldn’t stick around for very long. She wanted to savor him for as long as she could. Everyone leaves me eventually, she mused, head pounding as images of her parents’ funerals danced through her thoughts. She really was sick if she couldn’t keep her shit together. Usually she did much better than this. Eva rubbed her forehead, frustrated.

  “Hey, stop that,” Charlie said, putting a finger to the wrinkle between her brows. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but you don’t have to worry so much, Eva. Plus, your face could freeze like that, and then what would you do?” He winked at her.

  She gave him a look that told him she wasn’t in a flirty mood. “What are you, my grandmother? That’s an old wives’ tale.” Eva grimaced, then coughed again. “Besides, I already scare people away with my height and fatness and whatever-itude. I’m amazed you’ve stuck around as long as you have.”

  “It’s only been a week since we started this thing. I know it can’t be forever, but it can be a little longer than that,” Charlie said as he gathered her into his arms. “Don’t fuss. I’m here, aren’t I? Just relax. Try to get some sleep.”

  “But for how long?” she asked before she could stop herself. “How long will you be here?”

  “Oh, honey,” he murmured, running a soothing hand down her back.

  She knew that he knew she wasn’t asking about just this night. I want to know how long he’s going to stay for real. Forever? Two more weeks? A day? she pondered, even as she hated the way her thoughts turned maudlin when she felt like shit. Just go to sleep, girl, she finally told herself. Charlie was here now, and he was holding her just right. She had a lot to be grateful for.

  Eva was almost asleep when she heard Charlie’s whispered answer to her question. “I’ll be here for as long as I can, sweetheart.”

  That certainly isn’t forever, is it? she mused.

  The thought didn’t soothe her at all.

  Chapter Nine

  For the next month, they slipped into a routine: Eva would come home from work to find Charlie hanging out in her kitchen. He liked to cook for her, and since his hours were flexible, he often surprised her with food. He made her laugh. He gave her back rubs when the long ride on the bus home twisted her spine into a pretzel. In return, she cooked for him on the weekends and dragged him out to the movies. More often than not he slept over, holding her in his arms the entire night. T
hey never argued. They just … fit. They fit into each other’s lives so perfectly she couldn’t remember what it had been like without him there, in her house. In her heart. Falling in love with Charlie was so damned easy. How could she help it?

  But then there were the times she’d catch him frowning seemingly at nothing, but whenever she asked him what was wrong, he’d smile and say nothing. Often, she’d wake up late at night to find him standing at her window, staring out into the darkness, and she’d realize that he’d waited until she fell asleep and then left the bed. When she asked him why, he simply said he couldn’t sleep, but she knew that wasn’t why he kept his distance from her. He didn’t like how good they were together. He didn’t like the way they just fit together so easily. He was afraid. She could feel it, deep in her bones.

  And he never invited Eva over to his house.

  Oh, she’d been there before, when her parents were still alive. She remembered the soaring ceilings and gorgeous wood walls of his private cabin set in the middle of God only knew how many acres of woodland. His place was a testimony to privacy, built for a very private man. And somehow, she knew that by coming over to her house all the time, he was saying something about the impermanence of this thing between them. It made her ache. It felt like he was breaking her heart very slowly, in tiny little increments, which was so strange, because she’d also never been happier in her life.

  And then, on a Monday morning a little over two months after they’d begun this thing that Charlie was afraid to label, and that she called her Hot Daddy Fling just so she could watch Charlie squirm, Eva lifted her head out of the toilet and cursed her life. What the hell had happened to her damned birth control? Dread filled her as she swallowed the rising bile. She would not barf again. She refused. Or at least not again this morning. Maybe this afternoon, she told herself. She frowned, then leaned over the toilet again, trying to dry heave quietly. When she was done, she rinsed her mouth.