“You’re grinning.” She gives me a look that’s both playful and challenging. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
My hands remain idle at my sides. If I touch her, I won’t be able to stop. And as incredibly sexy as she is when she’s messing with me—teasing me—I can see the wear of the past two days in her slumped posture and tired eyes.
“I’m imagining you naked, that’s why I’m grinning.”
She sucks in her upper lip, making her lower lip look pouty.
“And now I’m leaving so you can get some sleep.”
Her head juts back. “Leaving? You’re not staying?”
“My stuff is at the hotel, and I fly out at six in the morning, using a commercial airline, which means I’ll need to be to the airport by four-thirty or earlier.”
Taking a small step back, her hands slide out of my pockets. “You’re right.” She shakes her head, eyes closed. “I’m not thinking. Clearly I do need sleep.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ellen
I don’t want him to go, but I can’t ask him to stay. For everything that he’s said or done that’s upset me—including evicting me—he’s more than made up for it by getting me here and staying for two days.
“Do you need anything else before I fly home in the morning?”
“I’m good.” You. I need you before you leave. And I fear that I’ll need you after you leave. But those aren’t my biggest fears.
I close my eyes as he cradles my head. He does it with such tenderness, yet there’s this fierce strength to his hands that makes each time he does it feel urgent—important—like he’s seconds away from telling me something that will change my life.
“Call me if you need anything. Okay?”
I nod, closing my eyes because here come the tears. Fuck you, tears! You weren’t invited to this going-away party.
My hands cover his as I hold in the sobs. He erases them with his thumbs and kisses my forehead.
“Why the tears, Elle?”
Elle. Don’t call me Elle right now. Ellen. Ms. Rodgers. Annoying tenant. Or even Seven. But Elle feels too personal when I need to make a break.
“Are you worried about your dad?” he asks.
I’m very worried about my dad. But these tears are not his. I shake my head. “You’d better go. I told you if you stayed I would fall …” In love. “Now’s not a good time for me to fall.”
With an intense look, he nods once. “You’ll be home before you know it.”
I laugh, pulling away and walking away. While filling a glass with water in the kitchen, I say the words, but I don’t look at him. “I won’t ask my grandparents to take care of him. They’re too old. My mother is dead. I am an only child.” I stare out the window to the reflections dancing along the water. “This could be life-changing for him. We don’t know yet. But if it is life-changing for him, it will be life-changing for me. If he can’t live unassisted …”
“You will move home to take care of him.”
I nod and turn to face him. “I feel like we’ve been trying to be something for weeks. And if you wouldn’t have shown up with your stupid cape on, ready to walk on water for me, I would have let us die in that parking lot. I was prepared to let that happen. That’s why I packed up my stuff.”
Swatting more tears, I let a painful laugh escape. “But you had to put on your Superman cape, and no girl in her right mind can resist falling for the superhero. So my tears are selfishly for me because you have a son who doesn’t want us together and I have a father who I know, in my intelligent therapist’s mind, will need me here.”
Flint rests his hands on his hips, staring at his feet. “You’re going to quit your job?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “But if he needs me, then I’ll find a job here.”
He rubs a frustrated hand over his face before looking at me. “It’s the right choice. You do what needs to be done.”
I nod.
“But …” He closes the distance between us and presses his hand to my cheek. “Anything … if you need absolutely anything, you call me.”
What if I need you?
I force a smile as he pulls me into his body. Grabbing the collar to his shirt, I lift onto my toes, and he meets me in the middle for a heartbreaking goodbye kiss. When the desperation wears away and we come up for oxygen, I keep hold of his collar, resting my forehead against his chest.
“Tell Harry I miss him and thank him for taking care of my babies.” I release him and fish my apartment keys from my purse, setting them in Flint’s hand. I force my head up to meet his gaze.
Flint nods.
“I’ll see you both soon, no matter what.” I know it could be for a final goodbye, but I don’t want to say the words quite yet. “Thank you, Flint Hopkins. Safe travels home.”
His face wrinkles in pain just before he kisses me one more time. It’s hard and painful, and then it’s over as quickly as it began. Without looking back, he grabs his jacket and the door closes behind him.
*
The next morning I sip my coffee, waiting for the doctor to arrive, waiting for my dad to wake. With nothing better to do, I reminisce about my youth. There was a day when I lived in the moment and planned my life no further than the next great adventure with Alex. We’d hop in the car on a moment’s notice with wadded clothes stuffed in a big bag, enough to get us by for a long weekend of climbing, biking, or surfing.
We slept in our little Subaru Outback almost as much as we slept in our bed. Our parents were happy and healthy. No one depended on us. We got by with working just enough to have money for play—and play we did.
No regrets.
You only live once.
Seize the moment.
Those were our mottos.
But accidents happen. Jobs turn into professions. Life starts to demand responsibility.
“Good morning.” The doctor brings me back to reality.
“Good morning.” I fake a smile, the one that says I’m good with being thirty-two and responsible.
He performs an exam and runs through some tests. I watch, feeling numb at the moment. Until … my dad stirs and opens his eyes.
“Dad!” I get in his line of vision, not caring if I’m in the way of the doctor or nurse.
Jumbled sounds fall from his lips. He flinches in frustration.
I squeeze his hand, and he gives me a faint squeeze back which is good—really good. “Don’t worry.” I smile. “We’ll find your words.”
His head moves slightly in a small nod.
I step back again to let the doctor finish his exam. His words echo like I’m hearing them from the opposite end of a tunnel. I knew they were coming, but I couldn’t fully imagine the anguish in my dad’s eyes as he tries to process everything.
Dysphagia.
Hemiparesis.
Pain.
Spasticity.
Possibly seizures.
Impaired vision.
Incontinence.
Speech and comprehension issues.
But … here it comes …
“Good prognosis.”
I smile at the doctor, but really, I’m laughing at him. The word good doesn’t fit after that list of possible post-stroke conditions.