Better Than None (9 page)

Then he put his hands on my hips and started guiding me up and down as
I ground myself on him until he hit some ridge inside me. As soon as I felt it,
I knew, and apparently so did he as he kept hitting it over and over. I felt my
body tingling all over, felt this incredible wave come over me as my head
lolled and the wave kept building and building, but as it kept growing, as the
intensity of everything I was feeling continued to rise, so too did all my
emotions. As the tingling increased and the sensations built I started to feel
the tears prick my eyes. My emotions were coming just as fast and strong as
what I realized was my first orgasm ever via sex with a man. I couldn’t stop
any of it. The tingling and the shaking and the crying finally all crashed over
me as I came like I had never come before, sobbing and shaking, my whole body
wracked with what felt like every emotion and feeling possible. Sounds came out
of me that I didn’t even recognize as it seemed like liquid poured out of every
orifice I had. Snot was dripping from my nose, my tears were streaming, and I
squirted something all over Dr. Rosenberg’s lap. And as I continued to come,
Dr. Rosenberg grunted and growled his release. If I was a screwed up basket
case, he was a rabid animal, groaning and pulling at my hips like he was trying
to exorcise a demon.

When my body finally stopped shaking I opened my eyes and looked at him
in shock. Unfortunately, he returned the look. As intense as that just was, it
was clear that we were both taking stock of what just happened. I doubted very much
that was the first time he’d ever come having sex with a woman, but I certainly
wasn’t going to admit that was the first time for me. I knew my expression was
partly because of that, but looking at him with the passion now gone, knowing
that I had literally just poured everything out on him, I was mortified. I felt
so exposed, and I had nowhere to hide. I couldn’t even hide behind the haze of
alcohol.

 I stumbled off of him and started grabbing at my clothes, hastily
putting them on.

“Stephanie?”

I looked over my shoulder to regard him still sitting on the couch, my
juices all over him, then sniffled, and used the back of my arm to try to wipe
some of the snot off of my face while I tried to dress. With drunken sex, I
never had to face the reality until the morning after. But this, this was
staring me right in the face, literally.

“Stephanie?” he asked again, a little more insistently.

“Dr. Rosenberg” I started to say.

“Jesus fucking Christ, my name is Brad. And after what we just did, it
would be nice if you could call me that.”

I took a long look at him and just shook my head and rolled my eyes. I
couldn’t allow myself to believe that I could possibly hurt this man’s
feelings. Men didn’t feel. Not like women did. And even if they did, Dr.
Rosenberg wasn’t one of those men. He couldn’t be. So I chose to chalk his tone
up to him being a jerk and me being a fool. I’m not sure what it was that
attracted me to him, but whatever it was would have to be over and done with.
He was toxic. He was bad for me. What we were doing was wrong. And for the
first time ever, I finally felt connected to a man I’d just fucked.

Neither Barb nor I realized that the chemo was cumulative, so with each
session, her side effects were that much worse. She was so weak, so fatigued,
so sick feeling that she could barely get out of bed. My routine taking care of
her, her animals and her house continued. It no longer felt temporary. It
became my new normal. And I was feeling more and more like I was hanging on by
just a thread. I had no emotional or physical reserves and thought that Marty
wasn’t far off. One strong wind and I just might crumple.

I suppose it was good that once again, I didn’t have a moment to really
think about much anything, because whenever I did have the tiniest bit of time
to let my mind wander, it drifted back to what I’d done with Dr. Rosenberg and
how amazing it felt. I don’t know if it was because of my fragility due to my
mom’s disease, I’m sure that must have had something to do with the fact that
I’d finally let some of my walls down. What I couldn’t figure out was why the
hell I would let them down with someone like him. Then again, Marty had started
softening me up too and perhaps I’d simply made the mistake to open myself up
to someone like Dr. Rosenberg instead of someone safe like Marty.

While this week was Barb’s week off from chemo, she had to go back to
the hospital to get her drain internalized. Once again, we were back at the
hospital, answering the same questions, even seeing some familiar faces. As I’d
guessed earlier, this type of familiarity wasn’t comforting. And what was
supposed to be an outpatient procedure turned into admitting my mother once
again due to complications. Apparently, while removing the drain, they nicked
her hepatic artery. It sounded like a bad joke but the crusted blood that was
still on parts of her arm and gown made it clear, this was no joke.

She was still groggy as we were getting her settled yet again in a
hospital room when Dr. Rosenberg stopped in.

“Stephanie.” He acknowledged me coolly. No matter, the flush in my
cheeks was enough to warm the entire room. I hated that with him, I was unable
to hide my surprise and embarrassment. I didn’t expect to see him here.

“I heard about what happened while I was doing rounds to check on some
of my other patients.” Answering my question before I could ask it and then
turned to my mom. “Barbara, how are you feeling?”

“It hurts. It’s so sore.” My mom whimpered, her voice sounding smaller
than ever.

“I can imagine. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” And just like
that, he was so conciliatory, so sincere. “I’ve talked with your doctor and
they just want to monitor you overnight. If everything’s ok, you should be
going home tomorrow.”

“Ok, thank you doctor.” She said weakly and then turned to me. “Honey,
would you lower my bed?” Dr. Rosenberg and I were on either side of her
bed.  I hated how relieved I was that I had some barrier between us. I
pressed the button, thankful to be able to look somewhere other than at him,
but I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.

“Do you need anything, mom?”

“No, honey, I think I’m just going to rest.” She looked and sounded
more frail than ever. Her pale grey-blue eyes looked at me, but she wasn’t
completely there. The meds, procedure and disease had all taken their toll. She
looked vacant. We held each other’s gaze before I smiled, and I was so grateful
when the corners of her mouth turned up. It wasn’t a full on Barb smile, but it
was enough to let me know she was still in there.

“Okay.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead, letting my lips linger
on her smooth skin. I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of antiseptic
and bleach. This wasn’t what my mom smelled like. This was the damn hospital
and its threadbare sheets and crappy antiseptic solution. This wasn’t Barb. Not
by a long shot. I lingered a bit longer, but her heavy breathing was my cue
that she was drifting off. As I raised my head, Dr. Rosenberg’s eyes bore into
me.

“Stephanie, perhaps we could talk out in the hall while your mom
rests?”

This seemed to be his go-to line, or at least it was with me. I
followed him out into the hallway, expecting to talk with him there, but he
kept walking. After witnessing what I just had with my mom, I wasn’t in any
mood for his games. I stopped and folded my arms across my chest, watching him
go, wondering if he thought I’d just pad after him. When he realized I wasn’t
in tow, he turned around and stared at me and then came walking back, annoyed, keeping
those damn eyes on me the entire time. What the hell was it with him and his
God damned eye contact? I stood my ground with my arms still crossed.

“I would prefer not to have this conversation in the hallway. Would you
please come with me into the lounge?” He said through gritted teeth. He sounded
so irritated, it somehow amused me.

“Sure, why not.”

We walked into the lounge and he shut the door. I wasn’t sure what he
was expecting, but I wasn’t in the mood for whatever it was. He moved towards
me and I held out my hand.

“I can’t do this. I can’t just be some girl you fuck when you run into
me during my mom’s treatment sessions.”

Dr. Rosenberg just shook his head and stared at me as he shoved his
hands in his pockets. He opened his mouth and took a breath like he was about
to say something and then just shook his head again, thinking better of it.

“What?!”

“You think that’s what this is?” he asked me like I was some idiot.

“You’re kidding me, right? What the hell else could it be? We don’t
know each other. We don’t talk. Tell me,
doctor
, what else could it
possibly be?”

“Is that what it is to you?” He spat. How could he be angry?

I don’t even know why I was engaging with him. It seemed that whenever
we talked it was caustic, yet I didn’t want to leave. Whatever it was, or as
bad as it was, part of me liked being there with him, even if all we were doing
was arguing.

“There is no ‘it’ Dr., er Brad. We’ve had a couple, I don’t even know
what to call them. Hook-ups? Sessions? Moments together? So you tell me, what
is ‘it’?”

He shook his head again and after looking at me for an interminably
long time, he looked at the floor and then back up. “For what it’s worth, I was
going to give you a hug. Ask you how you were doing. I wasn’t going to… Never
mind, Stephanie.” The way he used my full name felt like an assault, like
chastisement.

This time, he was the one to walk out leaving me wondering what the
hell was wrong with me. I couldn’t let myself believe that whatever we had was
anything more than just a couple of fucks. But after I left the hospital that
night and went to Barb’s house to take care of everything, I didn’t want to go
home. I wanted to find out what the good doctor was going to say. As I drove to
the Bel Air hotel bar where I’d first run into him, I wondered if I was turning
into my mom, chasing after a man who couldn’t ever possibly give me what I
needed, though I’m not sure anyone could have if I didn’t even know what that
was.

As I walked in through the lobby towards the bar, I equally hoped he
would and wouldn’t be there.

He didn’t even seem surprised to see me when I walked in. Either that,
or he just hid his emotions damn well. Perhaps both of the above. I stood next
to him and tried to read his face, but it gave nothing away. I wasn’t ready to
sit down. I didn’t even know if I’d be staying. I just had to ask the question.

“Ok,
doctor
, tell me what it is to you.”

A small smile appeared on his face and he motioned for me to sit. I
hesitated but knew the reality was I was glad he offered.

“Curiosity got the better of you?” He asked, his eyebrows raised. He
was cute when he wasn’t being such a dick.

“That or I’m a glutton for punishment. Or both.”

“So spending time with me is like punishment?” He grinned, but I wasn’t
going to let him win. Not yet.

“You’re not the easiest person to talk with.”

“Yet you came anyway?”

“Twice.” I grinned this time and he actually laughed. So the man could
laugh. Who knew?

“Would you like a drink?”

“Sure.” What the hell. I was there. “Chopin martini. Thanks.”

“Expensive tastes.” Again his eyebrows raised as he took me in. I
didn’t want to believe that he was actually interested in me. Then again, that
was exactly what I wanted. Desperately.

“I learned early on that cheap alcohol hurts way too much the next day.
Plus, life’s too short to drink cheap crap.”

He just nodded to that. I didn’t even realize what I was saying until
it was out of my mouth. But it was too late. We both knew about shortened
lives, perhaps him more than me. He was surrounded by death every day.

My drink arrived and we toasted, followed by a long silence.

“So?” I prompted.

“Why the sudden interest?”

“Are you really going to make me twist like this?”

“No, I’m just surprised you’re here, that’s all.” He took a sip and
then added, “and glad. I’m glad you’re here, Stephanie.” This time, it felt
like he used my full name to drive home his point. He wasn’t dangling bait, but
I bit anyway.

“Why?”

He smiled, and seeing this man smile was disarming. It was so
incongruous with so much of the rest of him.

“The few times we’ve been together,” he paused and I blushed. “And I’m
not just talking about the times in my office.” My cheeks burned hotter. “The
couple times I ran into you here and at the other bar… you made me forget.”

A long silence spread as we both took another sip. When I gained enough
confidence, I found my voice. “Forget?” I asked softly. Too softly.

He smiled, melting me a bit. “For those brief moments, I forgot all the
shit, all the death, all of the awful things and I simply enjoyed myself. With
you.” He took a long fortifying drink, and upon hearing those words, I did the
same. I had no snappy comeback. No witty retort. We sat for a bit before he
filled in the silence.

“You weren’t happy to see me in the hospital, yet you came here.” He
stated. From anyone else, it would have been a question.

“I do a lot of things I don’t understand. You’re not the only one
confused by my actions.”

“A minute ago, being with me was like punishment. Now it’s confusing?”
This man was a lot more comfortable being insulted than the average guy. That,
or he was just so cocky that it all just rolled off his back. Even as I thought
that, I dismissed it. He was cocky, no doubt about it. But it was almost like
he expected the insults. It was easier to take the shot when you put yourself
in front of the fist and waited for the punch. I’d done that for years. I
always assumed that someone was going to sucker punch me that I turned around
and practically begged them to hurt me first.

“I wasn’t just talking about you, but yeah, it’s one word I’d use to
describe how I feel about this.”

“Do you know why you came here?” He asked sincerely.

“I wanted an answer to my question.”

“And, are you satisfied with the answer?” The corners of his mouth
raised with his eyebrows. There was something about him… I liked his blunt honesty.

I smiled and nodded.

We sat there in silence for a bit before he spoke again. And when he
did, his expression changed from forlorn to mischievous.

“So, Stephanie, would you like to forget with me again?”

I bit my lip to stifle a smile and nodded again.

He signaled the bartender and told him to put it on his room.

“You have a room here?” I know I did a bad job of keeping the shock out
of my voice.

“Why do you think I’m on a first name basis with the bartender?”

Before I could answer he stopped me. “Don’t answer that. Yes, I have a
room here. And sometimes at the other hotel where I ran into you.”

My expression gave away my question before I could ask it.

“My wife, eh, ex, is in the house. It’s just easier this way.” He
stopped walking and we just stood there for a moment.

For whatever reason, I didn’t want this man to sink back into reality.
I liked that I helped take away his pain. I knew that because of my
relationship with my mom I was hard-wired to be needed, so perhaps that’s what
this was. Or I had fooled myself into thinking I was special with my gift of a
willing body. It didn’t matter why though.

“Come on,
doctor
. Let me help you forget.” I held out my hand
and when he took it he squeezed, validating my overture.

We walked hand in hand to the elevator, which was odd. Such a tender
and familiar gesture from a man who could be so cold, and who still felt like a
relative stranger. The sad truth was that I’d talked to and been with him more
than any other guy in my past. Granted, the bar was pretty low, but whatever
this was, it was progress for me.

I expected him to maul me once the elevator doors closed, but he
didn’t. He didn’t make a move. We just stood there silently side-by-side,
hand-in-hand, listening to the soft dings that announced each floor. I wished
he’d have done something that would have taken me out of my mind, for standing
there with him like this was making me more and more nervous. It gave me too
much time to wonder what the hell I was doing. Far too much time. What had
started out as a comforting feeling was starting to freak me out. I pulled away
but he just held on tighter and started stroking the back of my hand with his
thumb, which simply made me pull again, harder.

“You don’t like holding hands?”

“I, I don’t know that I can do this.”

“Hold hands? We’ve already done a lot more than that.” He smiled as he
looked down at me. He was trying to be cute and sexy, but I could barely
process any of it. He was being nice. This was what I thought I wanted.

“Any of it.”

He let go and turned to me. I know he could see the panic, the fear. I
didn’t know why I was freaking out, but I started hyperventilating and backed
away from him.