With her head tilting to the side and her large, dark eyes shining with excitement, Deni asks, “Do you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
“Like you’re falling,” she states, allowing her whole face to light up.
It’s hard to figure what I’m feeling. I’m not sure if I’m living in the moment or looking to a possible future. Nothing’s been discussed or decided between Lucy and me.
For now, I tell her the truth as best I can. “I feel…still.”
“Still?”
“Content. Comfortable.”
“Not the words I was hoping you’d use to describe it, but all right.”
“It’s all I have right now, Deni.”
“Well, maybe it’s because you’re worn out,” she offers. “Making out in public is a big deal. I see good things.”
Looking down at the porch, preparing to shut her down, I note my sister’s feet are bare. Rather than continue our sibling banter, I all but lose my patience.
“Shoes. Damn it, Deni,” I clip out. “When we picked Gracie up this morning, I talked to Mom about meddling in your life. I told her I thought you were taking care of yourself. You have an illness, whether you admit it or not. Shoes are necessary elements in keeping you healthy while living with that illness.”
“Shit,” she mumbles. “I was so psyched to come out and give you a hard time about making out in front of Grace, I forgot. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Just take care of yourself. I don’t want to come back here three weeks from now and be visiting you in a hospital.”
As I turn to open the heavy storm door, Deni ignores my anger and further torments me. “Bring Lucy with you when you come. We’ll make it a party.”
Shaking my head as I take the first step into the house, I tell her, “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Maybe I am. But you, brother, are smitten by one of the same. I’m starting to take pointers from Lucy. The woman knows how to rile you.”
Lovely.
Lucy
“I’LL BE HOME TOMORROW MORNING, buddy. Tell Stella thank you for cleaning,” I urge my son.
From what he’s explained, Stella let Dillon take the lead in making pancakes for dinner, and she let him do it from scratch, no less. He told me he stopped helping and made ‘flour pies’ after she lost patience and took over.
“Can we go to the zoo tomorrow?” he casually inquires, ignoring my strongly advised suggestion and moving on to what’s most likely been on his mind for well over a month.
“Honey, I don’t know what we’re doing yet.”
“I do,” he assures. “We can go to the zoo.”
Nearly laughing out loud at his attempt to corner a plan I’ve thought nothing about, I gently explain, “We’ll see. I’ve had a long trip and I miss you. Maybe we can visit the animals another time.”
“Sure,” he whispers. I can hear the disappointment in his voice, and although I hate it’s there, I don’t spoil him. I never have.
“I love you, buddy. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Love you, too,” he returns with a slight whine before hanging up.
My time in Chicago has flown by. Because of this, I haven’t been able to catch my breath, let alone think about all that’s happened. Meeting Michael’s family. A downtown horse-drawn carriage ride. Shopping with sweet Grace. And, the most obvious, Michael and I being together. This trip was nothing I had expected it to be.
“What are you doing?” Michael questions, standing just inside our adjoining door with a towel wrapped around his waist. His bare chest still glistens from the shower and doesn’t help in keeping my thoughts sorted.
“Packing,” I reply casually, although it should be obvious being that my suitcase is open on the bed and I’m putting my things in it. “How’d I buy so much stuff?”
“Between you and Gracie, I unloaded a trunk full of crap.”
Turning quickly, I narrow my eyes. “Not crap.”
“Crap,” he utters.
“If you’re not here to be helpful, why are you here at all?”
“She makes shit difficult, even after a relaxing day.” He’s talking to himself again and, as usual, taking a jab at me as he does.
I ignore his comment and continue trying to cram everything I bought that Grace said Dillon would ‘love’ into my bag.
The lump of sadness which I felt in my chest earlier this morning is back, but now it’s seated high in my throat. Michael will notice just as surely as if it were visible.
“Lucy?”
Feigning a calm I in no way feel, I don’t stop what I’m doing to answer. “Yeah?”
When I said goodbye to Michael’s mom, I felt my eyes burn with tears. She told me she couldn’t wait to see me again and she expected to meet Dillon soon. I loved telling her about him.
Denise repeated much of the same, but when she reached out to hug me goodbye, her embrace was tighter than I expected.
I grew up as an only child and was conceived during a one-night stand. I never had an older sister or brother to terrorize the way Denise does Michael. I really like her, and leaving without knowing if I’ll see her again shouldn’t bother me this much, but it does.
Saying goodbye to Grace was just as difficult. Dillon and I have been alone for so long, and meeting Grace reminded me that at the rate I’m going, he may be an only child, too. He’ll be as alone growing up as I was. Not that it was horrible. I had all I ever needed. It’s just that Dillon’s lost so much already. He’ll never carry any memories of his father.
The touch of Michael’s hand on my back startles me. I jump in place and turn around. Apparently, the lump in my throat has made itself to my eyes because when I look up at him, he’s just as gorgeous as he was moments ago, but now he’s all blurry.
Shit.
His finger touches my cheek, swiping the tear that fell when I jumped in place.
“Hey. What’s all this?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and staring down with concern.
“I’m ridiculous,” I admit, pushing his hand away to wipe my face.
Michael pulls me and bends his neck slightly when I avoid looking up. “What is it?”
Pulling in a breath, I simply explain, “I like your family. Your mom, sister, niece. Meeting them, seeing how you all are with each other, and just being a part of…all of it.”
“So this upsets you?”
“Ridiculous,” I repeat.
“A little,” he softly agrees, pushing my hair off my shoulders and onto my back.
“When your sister hugged me goodbye, I thought…”
Shaking my shoulders, he grins. “My sister is nuts. The only thing you should’ve thought about when she was hugging you was what she was probably plotting. Believe me on this, sweetheart. I’ve got years of experience.”
I smile. I love the affection in his words, and how easily he finds it to call me ‘sweetheart’.
“I’d do just about anything to have a sister who loves me as much as Deni loves you. And even if she’s a little nuts, I really like her. She’s quirky.”
“You would think that,” he agrees. “You didn’t grow up with her, though. If I wasn’t chasing errant boys away from the house, I was lecturing her on reasons to stay away from them.”
“Bet that went over well.”
He sighs, running his hand through his still damp hair. The muscles in his chest work in sync as his bicep flexes. I admire them both as he stops moving and catches me staring. Smiling smugly, he leaves his hand to rest on the back of his neck.
“It’s not fair,” I murmur to myself.
Rather than ignore my thought said aloud, as I frequently do him, he asks, “What’s not fair?”
“Nothing,” I deny.
He pushes, “Say what’s on your mind.”
“I’m good.” I play innocent first, then tell him, as though it’s an afterthought, “It’s not fair to women like me. You’re hot, even beautiful. And you look how you look. But then look at me and with you still looking like that… Well, the thought is a little depressing.”
He blinks once, shakes his head as though clearing it, then blinks again. Obviously I’ve confused him. No more than he’s confused me all this time.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
I meant to say, if you keep looking at me the way you do, I’ll fall in love…if I haven’t already.
“I said nothing. Go away so I can finish fitting everything in my suitcase.”
“How long do you think it’s going to take to do that?”
“Fifteen or twenty minutes?”
He nods. “Are you hungry?” he offers. “I can order room service.”
“I’m okay.”
“Wine?”
I check the clock near the bed. It’s only eight-thirty. “Wine would be nice.”
Smiling obnoxiously, most likely remembering my behavior the last time I drank too much of what I now consider truth serum, he assures, “I’ll see you have as much as you need.”
Oh, I bet.
If I had any self-preservation at all, I’d stay quiet, but I don’t. The comment he made in his office weeks ago just entered my thoughts. Now that our relationship has evolved, I’m curious. “So, about the spanking…”