I pace restlessly in front of Adam’s front window while waiting for him to get back. I don’t want him to panic if he tried calling me and couldn’t get through because my phone was disconnected. And I’m worried about how his meeting went. I can’t let him get kicked out of school on account of me. I’ll go and speak to the dean personally if I have to.
It’s so quiet here. I gaze up the lonely road at the dense forest on either side. It’s a pretty isolated spot. I haven’t seen another human being all day.
But it’s nice. After the tumultuous weeks I experienced, this escape from reality is what I needed. If only I didn’t bring trouble with me to Adam’s doorstep. His brother certainly seems to think I did.
And that’s my biggest fear—overburdening Adam with struggles he shouldn’t even have to deal with. Our relationship is new, and I want to cherish this time getting to know each other instead of having to make our way through the muck of major, life-changing problems. I wonder if deep down he’s sorry he met me. I have to make being together worth all this added stress.
I should have emailed Jennifer, but I can’t bring myself to go back to the computer after my incident with Brian. So I decide to root through the kitchen and make something special for dinner. Maybe it will make up a little for the unpleasantness Adam had to face today.
I open the refrigerator. There is a half empty carton of milk, a few cans of soda, a tub of butter, and some wrapped deli meat. Okay, that’s not going to cut it. I move on to the cupboard.
Bingo!
There’s a box of pasta and a jar of tomato sauce. I can definitely do something with those ingredients. An empty pot is already on the stove and I fill it with water. The trees beyond the kitchen window are bending in the breeze as a few snow flurries start to fall.
This winter will never end.
I set the water to boil and hear a car door slam outside.
Yes! He’s back.
I hear his footsteps coming up the stairs. I run and open the door to greet him.
“Now I can get used to coming home to this,” he says, scooping me up in his arms and greeting me with a gentle kiss.
“How did it go?” I inquire as he sets me back on my feet.
“Better than I expected,” he replies. “I can still attend classes until Chuck’s uncle decides whether or not my suspension is going to be permanent.”
“And that’s a good thing, right?”
“Yeah, I bumped into Charlie and Tommy at the hospital. You remember them, right?” he asks. “The guys who were with me on the ambulance, the day we met?”
“Yeah. They seem really nice.”
“Well, they’re gonna help me turn the tables on Chuck.”
“You’re kidding! How?”
“I couldn’t figure out how Chuck knew I swiped your number. Charlie and Tommy put two and two together, and it’s a good possibility that he was listening in on conversations when he was working the comm channel,” he explains. “There was a broken switch on the radio in the rig.”
“Jeez, it figures, right?” I ask. “So what are you gonna do next?”
“I think Chuck and I need to have another heart-to-heart conversation.”
“But can you prove that he was eavesdropping?”
“No, but I think I can scare him into backing off.”
“That worries me.”
“Why?”
“Well, let’s say you’re able to stop him this time. How do you know he won’t try something again?” I continue. “Do you really wanna work at a place where you’ll have to be constantly looking over your shoulder?”
“But Katie, I have no choice,” he states. “There’s not much else around here, and I love what I do. I can handle Chuck.”
But can he really?
It looks like Chuck has the upper hand in this round. Will Adam be able to turn things to his advantage by resorting to threats and blackmail? It doesn’t seem like his way of handling things, and nothing good will come of it. But I have to shake off these gloomy thoughts and try to look at the bright side.
We’re together.
“C’mon,” I say, taking his hand. “I started to make dinner. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving,” he replies. “What’s on the menu?”
“Does pasta sound okay?”
“Pasta sounds absolutely perfect,” he whispers, drawing me back into his arms. I shriek as he picks me up and carries me toward his bedroom.
“Adam, the water on the stove is going to boil over!” I yell.
“Let it,” he says, not even hesitating for a moment as we collapse on his bed. “I’ve been waiting for this all day. I…want…you,” he utters between kisses, “so…badly…”
And without another word of protest, I give in…
because I want him, too.
“These cookies are so good!” Katie exclaims.
We’re sitting up in bed as the snow softly falls outside. She’s wearing an old t-shirt of mine. The neckline is so worn that it droops, leaving one of her pale shoulders exposed. I glide my fingertips across her collarbone, reveling in the softness of her skin. She leans her head back, giving a contented sigh.
I’m addicted. I can’t get enough of her.
“You make me so happy,” I disclose.
She smiles bashfully and lowers her eyes. I can tell she isn’t used to receiving compliments, and I don’t mean to embarrass her, but I want her to know how much she means to me. She doesn’t deserve to be thrown out into the cold by her father. And it infuriates me to think that someone so special could be so easily discarded.
“Did you hear from your father at all?” I have to ask.
“No,” she whispers. “Not a word. He even disconnected my cell phone.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, willing her to look at me. I reach up to caress the side of her face.
“It’s okay,” she replies, her green eyes finally meeting mine as she gives me a small smile.
And that’s when I know that she realizes how much I love her. The look she gives me shatters any doubts. She is mine, and I am hers. It’s as simple as that.
“So where did you get these cookies, anyway?” she asks with a laugh.
“My friend Stacy at school,” I relate. “She’s always baking for her kids, and I’m her resident charity case. She’s always trying to fatten me up.”
“Not a chance, mister,” she jokes. “You’ll be skin and bones until the day you die.”
“You’re probably right,” I admit with a chuckle. “I mean, look at these scrawny arms and undefined abs. There is no hope for me.”
“I don’t know, they kinda turn me on,” she says, blushing as she pulls back the sheet, exposing my bare chest. I inhale sharply as she runs her hand lightly up my ribcage.
Oh God, what this girl can do to me.
“I’m glad you were my first,” she reveals. “I…had a bad experience…with a guy, and you helped erase all of that for me.”
“Do I want to know what happened?” I ask. “Or will I wanna jump out of bed and punch this guy’s lights out?”
“No, I was drunk and stupid, which is sad because I never drink and I never go out to clubs. But last year at Jennifer’s bachelorette party, things got out of hand, and an older guy I knew from high school tried to take advantage of me.”
I don’t know what to say. Katie, drunk in a club, getting picked up by some guy? I don’t want to picture it.
“Why are you telling me?” I inquire.
“Because today when I went to use your computer to email Jennifer, your brother was trying to IM you and I intercepted the message.”
“What was it about?”
“He thought you’d be upset about some girl named April getting married.”
I always thought when that news broke, I would be absolutely devastated. But I feel nothing. No remorse, no anguish, no self-pity.
Nothing.
“Say something,” Katie pleads.
“April was my first serious girlfriend. We hung out together when I was in California,” I begin.
“Is that why you left?”
“Mainly.”
“Wow.”
“She cheated on me, broke my heart. I had to get outta there, start over somewhere else.”
“Did you?”
“After these last twenty-four hours with you, I finally did.”
“Are you sure?” she asks. “Brian thought you would freak when you found out about it.”
“What I had with April was fun while it lasted. But she didn’t love me. I don’t think she ever did. And I was so infatuated with her that I couldn’t see how things really stood between us.”
“Do you still love her?”
“Honestly, I thought I did,” I pause as Katie’s face falls. “But what I felt for her is nothing compared to what I feel for you.”
She smiles at me as a tear runs down her cheek.
“Katie, when I saw you again, there was nothing I wanted to do more than stand by your side for the rest of my life. Even the day we met and talked in the ambulance, I felt such a connection to you that it scared me.”
“Is that why you didn’t say anything when you walked by me in the hospital?”
“You knew I was there?” I question. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was scared, too.”
“Well, two emotional battering rams like us deserve each other, don’t you think?”
“Looks that way.”
“You’re it for me, Katie. You’re my world now.”
She doesn’t need to say anything. The kiss she gives me speaks volumes.
It’s inevitable. I wake up with a fever. Under the weight of all this stress, my immune system lets me down…again. My throat is on fire every time I swallow. I’m really sick.
Adam keeps looking at me anxiously as he gets dressed for school.
Great. Yet another problem of mine for him to worry about. Haven’t I put this boy through enough already?
He walks out of his bedroom and returns with a thermometer.
“Let me take it again,” he insists.
It even hurts to talk, so I simply nod before opening my mouth.
He times sixty seconds off his wristwatch before checking the reading.
“One hundred and two…it’s up from an hour ago,” he says, pacing the room. “If it goes up any higher, we’re gonna have to go to the emergency room.”
I adamantly shake my head, pointing at the window as a gust of sleet rattles the glass. Overnight, the peaceful dusting of snow suddenly turned into an ugly winter mess. I’m more worried about Adam driving on that treacherous, windy road than I am about my health. I can’t believe his morning class isn’t canceled or at least delayed due to the poor driving conditions.
“I guess you’re right,” he responds. “I don’t want you to have to go out in that. It’ll probably do more harm than good.”
“I’ll call my doctor while you’re gone,” I suggest, wincing as my airway constricts around every word.
Luckily, last night we reinstated my cell phone under Adam’s plan. So it’s back up and running.
“I promise I won’t be long. I’ll get through these couple of classes and come right home. I hate leaving you here all alone like this. Are you sure you’ll be all right?” he asks.
I nod emphatically.
“Okay,” he says, trying to smile. He comes toward me and kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry you’re sick.”
“Me too,” I manage to get out.
“Just stay in bed and relax,” he orders. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Drive safe,” I whisper, but I’m not sure if he hears me as he unlocks the front door and hurries down the steps.
Through the window, I watch as he scrapes the accumulated ice off his windshield while warming up the car. About ten minutes later, he is on his way, driving carefully over the glazed road.
Please let him come back to me in one piece.
All my life, I’ve suffered from these sudden attacks. My body basically shuts down. The doctors never really had a diagnosis, blaming these bouts of illness on a poor immune system, susceptible to disease. Grandma always said I was born nearly two months premature, and I never stood a fighting chance.
It’s beyond frustrating, and it’s the main reason why I can’t hold down a job. Who will give an employee a week off every month due to illness? Not many.
I’ve been placed on more medications than I can count, but nothing works. I’m treatable once I get sick, but there’s no magic cure that prevents infection from striking time and again. Sadly, I’ve learned how to deal with it. Instead of fighting against my fate, I accept what comes my way. It helps me heal faster.
I should stay in bed like Adam said, but my restless mind won’t let me sleep. I grab a blanket and put it around my shoulders as I sit on the couch. At least the TV will offer some distraction.
Unconsciously, I turn to the home shopping channel. I always watched it with Grandma when I was under the weather. If I close my eyes, I can pretend she’s here with me now.
I don’t have my contacts in so I have to squint to see what time it is. Just after ten o’clock—the doctor’s office is open. I take my phone off the table and dial.
“Doctor Mitchell’s office, can you hold, please?”
“Yes,” I say, hoarsely.
Five minutes later, a voice comes back on the line. “Thanks for waiting. How can I help you?”
“Hi, it’s Katie Turner. I’m running a temperature, and my throat is killing me.”
“Turner…Turner, ah yes, Katie. I see here that you’re no longer covered by your previous insurance. What Doctor Mitchell usually prescribes is pretty expensive. Do you want me to check if there’s a generic version? Would that be your first choice?”
My stomach drops. I was covered under Dad’s health insurance. Did he remove me from his plan? A cell phone is one thing…but I can’t believe he would go this far.
“Hello?” the receptionist asks. “Are you still there?”
“Yes…yes, I’m still here,” I croak. “And yes, please go for the generic version first. Do you have any idea how much it might be?”
And how I’m going to pay for it?
“I don’t know, dear. I’m guessing somewhere between $250 and $300.”
I don’t have more than $20 left in my wallet. Where am I going to get the money?
“Okay, thank you,” I manage to say before hanging up the phone.
I can’t put off calling Jennifer any longer. She thinks I’m still at home. Sometimes she gets busy with the kids, and a few days will pass between texts or emails. She’s my only hope.
Shaking, I dial her number. On the seventh ring, right when I’m about to give up, she answers.
“Katie, is that you?” she asks, out of breath.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I answer. “I’m at Adam’s. He took me in.”
“You sound terrible,” she says. “Are you sick again?”
“Yeah, I just got off with the doctor’s office and they’re gonna call something in. But Jennifer,” I reply, my voice breaking, “I’m not going to be able to pay for it. Dad already removed me from his insurance…” I can’t hold it in any longer. I break down.
“Katie…shhhh…listen…listen to me, okay? I’m here for you. I’m not going to abandon you,” she affirms. “Your father’s a complete asshole, that’s nothing new. I only wish you’d come here so I could take care of you. I hope you didn’t think I’d turn you away.”
“No,” I admit. “I wasn’t even thinking straight when I left. But Adam’s been really great about everything.”
“Is he there with you now?”
“No, he had to go to class.”
“So you’re by yourself?” she asks. “Katie, you know how you get. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“It’s only for a couple of hours,” I relate. “I’ll be fine.”
“What’s your temp?”
I don’t want to tell her. She’ll panic.
“Katie?” I hear the warning tone in her voice.
“One hundred and two. No big deal.”
“No big deal? Are you kidding me?” she asks. “You ended up in the hospital the last time. That’s it. What’s the address of Adam’s place? I’m coming over.”
“Oh no, you’re not, Jen. Please calm down,” I urge. “Adam will pick up my medicine, I’ll be fine.”
“Does he have enough to pay for it?” she questions. “He only works part-time on the ambulance, right?”
“He was suspended.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he got in trouble for copying my number off Grandma’s chart.”
“Well, isn’t that romantic…in a twisted sort of way.”
“Ha, ha…”
“But seriously, Katie. If he’s not working, how is he gonna pay for your meds, never mind everything else?”
“I don’t know.”
“Jeez, Katie…”
“Please don’t give me a hard time about this right now, Jen,” I beg. “I can’t take it. We’ll figure something out.”
“You’re gonna have to.”
I sniffle, unable to check my tears any longer.
“All right, stop. You know I can’t stand to hear you cry,” she responds. “Give me Adam’s address. I won’t come over and bother you. I’m going to write a check and put it in the mail. Just to tide you over until Adam gets back to work. He shouldn’t have to take on the burden of paying for things he can’t afford. I’m your family, and it’s the least I can do.”
“But…”
“Katie, I don’t want to hear it,” she admonishes. “You’re going to take this check and cash it—end of story. I feel absolutely sick inside to think of what your father did to you, and it’ll go a little way toward making me feel better about things.”
“Thanks, Jen,” I whimper.
“And stop crying. You’re going to get dehydrated. Go pour yourself a glass of juice and lay down. You hear me?” she asks. “You have to take care of yourself, if not for you then for Adam. That boy has enough on his plate already. Got it?”
“You’re right,” I reply. “I have to think of Adam.”
“That a girl,” she encourages. “Call me later, and let me know how you’re doing.”
“I will.”
“Love you, Kit Kat.”
“Love you, too.”
I put down the phone and close my eyes to try to ease the pounding in my head.
What kind of mess did I get Adam and myself into now?