Complex Kisses (Here & Now Book 1) Page 4

  Now how do I respond to that? I’ve been in plenty of awkward situations in life but this one has me feeling completely flustered. That is, until everyone else starts laughing. Everyone, including his wife.

  “Nice try to save yourself there, dad,” Caleb teases, “You almost fooled her.”

  “What?” Glenn scoffs, “I’m allowed to notice these things. She’s a lovely girl. And your mother knows how much I love her.”

  “Mom also knows how to lock you out of the bedroom,” Eric laughs.

  Looking just a little embarrassed by this, Sylvie quickly pipes in, “Oui, but your father also knows to properly beg forgiveness. He’s never spent an entire night on the couch.”

  “Ew!” Caleb really is shouting now. “TMI mom! T. M. Freakin’ I.” Laughter fills the room, our unease momentarily left behind.

  It seems his parents aren’t nearly as conservative as Eric led me to believe. They’re fun and relaxed with each other, freely expressing their feelings, just the way I imagine a great couple should. The way they interact with their sons, an extension of the love they clearly have for one another. It’s odd for me, being in the middle of this kind of family dynamic. It’s an experience I haven’t had since I was a kid, since before I lost my mom and sister. As foreign as it may be, it’s really nice.

  Feeling fully and openly accepted by the entire family, I join in the easy banter being shared. The conversation is kept light and flowing. We talk about the weather and news events. The boys go on a tangent about an upcoming baseball game they’re planning to watch, while Sylvie and I simply smile and observe. Everyone is laid-back, and acting happy. We might not be able to forget where we are, or why we’re all here, but this moment makes me think that maybe we’re all going to be okay. Maybe.

  “Well, it was really nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, but really I just dropped in to say a quick hello to Caleb.”

  “Please. You make me feel so old. Given names are fine, mon ange,” Sylvie urges. “I hope these rowdy boys didn’t scare you off. Having another woman around is nice. You cannot stay?”

  “No, it’s been fun. But I can’t stay. I need to get back to my father. The nurses can’t seem to get him to eat anything. I thought I might give it a try,” I ramble, telling them too much.

  They don’t need this information. They’re already burdened with their own worries. They certainly don’t need to take on any of mine, yet I can’t seem to stop myself. “He probably won’t eat for me either. He’s dying, but he’s still the most stubborn human being on the face of the planet. He doesn’t even really want me here, but I figure maybe I can blackmail him into eating if I promise to leave when he’s done.”

  They all stare at me like I’ve grown an extra head. And really who can blame them? I’ve ruined the lighthearted mood completely. Not surprising, given my recent trend of depression, anxiety and complete mental breakdown.

  “Well, dear,” Glenn speaks slowly, “Don’t give up. I’m sure he wants you here. He’s likely just uncomfortable having you see him in a place of weakness. Parents are the caregivers. It can be difficult to accept that kind of role reversal.”

  “Yeah,” Caleb agrees. “And, he’s probably scared.”

  The air feels thick with Caleb’s heavy words. Those words bounce around in my brain, bidding me to look beyond myself, look beyond my own discomfort and pain, to get a grip.

  Despite the gravity of what they’ve said, the Anderson men have provided me a reassurance of sorts. Maybe they’re right. My father pushed me away ten years ago, maybe he’s pushing me away again for the same reasons. He’s weak and afraid.

  “Thank you.” It’s all I can manage to say. I feel like an incredible ass for taking our fun meeting to such a place of despair. “Nice seeing you again, Caleb.”

  “The pleasure was all mine.” He grins at me.

  I turn to Eric, still standing beside me, and bravely ask, “Walk me out?”

  He simply nods his head at my request.

  There’s no touching as I lead the way out of the room. In fact, it feels like there’s ten feet of space between us. Ten feet and a giant block of awkward, and it’s my fault. I’ve made a fool of myself and turned a nice moment into a pity party. Ridiculous. This is not me. I am not this feeble, self-absorbed person. I’m a strong, independent woman. I’ve raised a child on my own since I was eighteen years old for Christ’s sake! Why the hell am I falling apart now? Over my asshole father? It’s embarrassing and shameful.

  As soon as we’re out of the room I turn to look up at Eric. “Listen, Eric. I’m sorry.”

  He cuts me short, not allowing my full apology. “No. Stop.” He looks angry and perplexed. Like he’s going to tell me off. I really can’t say that I blame him. Not one bit. I’m already telling myself off. “I don’t want to hear you apologize for your feelings. At least you’re brave enough to show them. I’ve been hiding behind fake smiles and lame jokes since the day Caleb was diagnosed. Until yesterday, it was all a show for Caleb. Yesterday was the first time I smiled for real.” His tone is harsh, but his words surprisingly empathetic.

  “Yesterday?”

  “Yeah, yesterday.” He looks me dead in the eye, no hesitation. “When I saw you and the dumbstruck look on my little brother’s face. I knew you were the reason he was looking so genuinely happy. He hasn’t looked like that in a long time, Jamie. We’ve both just been pretending.”

  “But I didn’t do anything. I was wallowing in my own misery. He’s the one who made me smile.”

  “Maybe. But you let him in - you gave him a smile and it wasn’t out of pity. That was a gift to him. He needs to feel like he can do more than make people cry all the time. He wants to keep making them laugh too. And you gave that to him. You made him happy, just by having fun and being happy with him, in the moment. Those moments are all we have, Jamie. Those are the things that really fucking count.”

  “Guess, I kind of ruined that now though, didn’t I.”

  “No. You didn’t. You just made the rest of us realize that we’re not the only ones in this place who’re suffering.” He speaks so candidly, looks so intent, I know he means every word of what he’s saying. “Besides, you’ve given Caleb a new challenge. You left his room with a frown. He’ll be on a mission to find you and make you smile again.”

  Just thinking about Caleb and his tenacity is probably enough to get me smiling. But at this moment, it’s Eric who has my lips moving upward. This man has quickly made a very large impact on my life. I don’t think he realizes the magnitude of what he’s done for me. He’s reached out to me in a way that no one has in such a long, long time. The way he held me in his arms while I cried? That was like a lifeline. I don’t know if he did it out of pity, or if maybe it was because he’s feeling the same level of despair. The reason doesn’t matter. It was an act of compassion that I desperately needed.

  How’s it possible that a man this sincere, emotionally mature and devastatingly gorgeous, has come into my life at the exact moment I needed him? He’s too good to be true. And I’m too much of an emotional wreck to take advantage of it.

  Taking a very deep breath, I quickly blow it all back out, making a giant raspberry. There I go, showing my unladylike side again. He’s already seen me talk with my mouth full. I’m sure my beauty points have dropped considerably by now.

  But Eric just smiles back at me. And what an amazing smile it is - full and bright with dimples showing. It gives me a rush of heat and a desire to find all the other ways I could make him smile. God, he really is great to look at.

  “Thanks, Eric. For everything,” I say sincerely.

  “Anytime.”

  Slowly, I turn and start walking back to my father’s room. “Hey!” He calls, after only a few paces. When I turn back to look at him, he’s playfully leaning on the door frame, one arm over his head, bicep flexing. Sexy as hell. And he’s staring at me.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll see you around, beautiful Jamie.” He winks.
His eyes don’t leave mine as he slowly walks backward into Caleb’s room. I helplessly stare back, until he’s out of sight.

  On wobbling legs, I make my way back to my father’s room. I’m still smiling, even as I walk in to face the one man who continues to break my heart.

  It’s my fifth day at the hospital. There’s been no change to my father’s condition - or attitude, for that matter. I never did get him to eat yesterday, and he’s been ignoring me today. When he isn’t sleeping, he’s staring hard at the blank television. When I asked if he wanted me to put something on for him, he answered with a gruff “No.” So, I guess maybe he isn’t completely ignoring me.

  Sitting quietly in the chair next to his bed, I reply to Hunter’s latest message. It’s just one in a long string of texts between the two of us.

  Math was annoying today

  Are you still doing fractions?

  Yes they r stupid and boring

  Well, if you want to be an architect and build stuff like you do in Minecraft, you’re going to need to take a lot of math classes.

  UGH

  If he didn’t have school and a bigger social life than me, I’d be content to chat with him like this all day. To the average person it may just seem routine and boring but to me, our texts are a gift. I love them. And right now, I need them to keep me sane.

  Leaving my nine-year-old in Toronto with his best friend’s family was not an easy thing for me. Thankfully, they were happy to take him into their home. But I still worry. I worry that I’ll overextend his welcome. I worry that, maybe I don’t know these people well enough to leave my kid with them this long. I worry that he’ll feel uncomfortable in their house. Most of all, I’m worried he may miss me or need me and I won’t be there for him the way I always have been, up ‘til now. So far, my worries seem unfounded. But it’s our daily, mundane conversations that help set my mind at ease.

  Jackson wants me to join baseball with him this year

  Do you want to play baseball?

  Not really but he’s my best friend I don’t wanna let him down

  I guess you have a decision to make.

  My kid amazes me. Bad grammar and refusal to use punctuation aside, he’s always considerate of everyone else’s feelings. I don’t think he has a mean bone in his body.

  Wow thanks mom best advice yet

  Except when it comes to taunting me. God, he can be an antagonizing little shit. But he’s my antagonizing little shit, and I love him to pieces. Besides, he learned all of his sarcastic humor from me. I guess it’s only natural that he’d eventually use it against me. There’s no one to blame, but myself. I just wish he didn’t use it against me on such a regular basis.

  Well, you’re the one who has to live with the choice. I’m not playing baseball with a bunch of little boys.

  ok your right

  I know I am – none of you could keep up with me :)

  Hahaha NOT

  Silly banter aside, I’m amazed by my own kid. Not once in any of our conversations has he asked when I’m coming home. He knows I’m worried about being so far away from him. He knows I’m anxious to get back there. And he also knows, for the moment, I’m where I need to be.

  How does a nine-year-old get to be so wise?

  No baseball. But can I take a woodworking class this summer

  Woodworking?

  Yeah I wanna learn to build stuff – u could help since ur already good at it

  That sounds awesome, bud.

  Hunter: Cool :)

  I think I must have lucked out. Hunter is the best kid I know and I’m dead certain that’s not a result of my stellar parenting skills. Giving him love, kindness, and the freedom to be himself are my only guidelines.

  The majority of my life with Hunter has been like a giant experiment - a lot of trial and error. Raising him on my own has meant having no one to hand him off to when I’m tired, no one to consult with when I’m worried, and when I mess it all up, no one else to blame. But whenever I’m unsure, I think about my mom and what she would have done. It doesn’t stop me from wishing she was still around to give me advice but it does make me feel a little less alone, a little less afraid.

  Go finish your lunch you hoodlum. Have a good afternoon at school.

  Love you mom

  Love you too, bud. Miss you.

  Texting with my son has me feeling renewed. It’s so good to have more than just a quick morning “hello” with him. It helps ease the aching in my chest. I’m feeling calm. Almost happy.

  There is another factor adding to my improved mood - I had the most amazing sleep. Despite the lumpy hotel mattress and all my stress, I fell asleep thinking of Eric and the sexy smirk he gave me when he called me beautiful. It’s a mental image I’ve had on repeat since the moment it happened. I can’t stop thinking about him. I don’t want to stop, even with all the other thoughts that should be in my mind.

  The motor on my father’s bed whines as it starts to incline. I didn’t even realize he was awake. He stares me down as the bed slowly rises.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  Shocking, it’s the first sentence he’s spoken in almost a day. It’s not the talking that I find surprising, but the lack of sarcasm or malice in his voice. He simply sounds curious. Like a normal person.

  “A few things, actually.” I hesitate, not trusting that he won’t turn on me at any moment.

  “I bet you just can’t wait to be rid of me, can you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s okay, James. Can’t say that I fucking blame you. I’m a ripe old asshole - rotten to the damn core. Me being gone will be a blessing. For you and me.”

  My smile is long gone. I knew his civilized approach was just a smoke screen. He always liked luring me out into the open so he could cut me back with his hateful words. Even when the negativity is turned back on himself, he has a way of mocking me with it. Making me feel responsible for his unhappy disposition.

  But at least he’s talking.

  “Blessing? You think this is a blessing? Sitting here, watching you die, knowing you’re happy to let cancer eat you alive? Knowing, you don’t even want to try. You’d rather die miserable and angry? You’d rather be alone? Yeah, what a great blessing it all is.”

  “Fuck you. I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t need any of this shit. If I want to be done with my sorry goddamn life, that’s my prerogative. Who the hell do you think you are to tell me any differently?”

  “Why do you do that? Why do you always try to push me away?”

  “I don’t need to push you away. You like leaving. Remember?”

  His words slice through me with the honest reminder of how easily I gave up on him before. He has a point. Do I have any right being here now, expecting anything to be different? Could things ever be better between us? I’d hoped facing his own mortality might have mellowed him out a bit. But despite being physically weak, he’s still an immovable force of will.

  “Dad …”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Hartley! How are we feeling?” Nurse Judy greets, as she waltzes into the room with no regard for the depth of conversation she’s just interrupted. Either she doesn’t register my emotional turmoil, or she’s just grown immune to witnessing people in their most vulnerable states. This probably isn’t the first time she’s walked into a deeply personal conversation. She also doesn’t wait for a response to her question before letting us know, “It’s lunch time if you feel like you might want to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry,” dad snarls at her. He’s barked, bickered and berated. His warning clear - stay far, far away. But to this point, Judy hasn’t been scared off.

  “Well how about some tea or ginger ale,” she persists. Nope, not afraid at all.

  “Fine. Give me the ginger ale.”

  “Excellent!” She beams. From the smile on her face, you’d think she just climbed mount Everest. Turning to me she says, “Why don’t you go get yourself some lunch too, honey? You loo
k like you could use it.” Her mothering tone leaves little room for argument.

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t stay?” I try, reluctant to leave when it’s what my father has just accused me of being best at. Even if he’s right, the stubborn streak I’ve inherited from him makes me want to stay, just to prove him wrong.

  “Get out of here James,” he grumbles, “I don’t need a goddamn babysitter.”

  Ever the eloquent one, my father.

  “Okay, fine,” I concede. “But, I’ll be back later.”

  I say it as a warning, but mean it as a promise. It might be the guilt talking, but part of me holds out hope that there’s still time for us to bury some of this pain and resentment. It’s a promise to myself to not give up. Not yet.

  * * *

  Lunch time in the hospital cafeteria reminds me a bit of high school, except with less acne and even fewer seating options. I’m about to admit defeat and just take my food back to my father’s room when the crowd parts and I see him.

  Like a total creeper, I stand watching Eric as he sits alone in the corner with his eyes downcast and his face a blank mask. He looks the complete of opposite of the playful, smiling mental image I’ve been fantasizing over. He looks troubled.

  Without a second thought, I go to him.

  “Hey. You up for some company?” I ask, moving into the seat across from him.

  Quickly losing the frown, he hits me with a drop dead gorgeous, panty melting smile. But as stunning as his mouth may be, that smile doesn’t bring out his dimples. It doesn’t reach his intense green eyes.

  “Hey, beautiful. If you’re the one keeping me company, then I’m all for it.”

  “Don’t do that,” I stress.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Remember our talk yesterday?”

  “Which part?”