In the Nick of Time (61 page)

I’m procrastinating…

He was once again faced with a wave of fear, and he hated that shit. It was so uncommon for him, unbelievable, that when it struck him, it had a way of crippling him right there on the spot. This time, he simply took a deep breath, closed his eyes and asked himself, what was so troubling? His new process proved much needed, so he could get to the bottom of things and move on with his life.

What if she changed her mind?

What if she found someone else?

What if she doesn’t really love me?

What if…what if…what if…

You said you wouldn’t do this ‘what if’ business… liar.

Okay, yeah… all of that could have happened. Look at how we met? We were under a lot of pressure. Maybe she just needed someone to hold on to… I don’t think so, but that’s what’s causing this ‘what if’ shit, right?

He kept working around and through it, refusing to allow himself to sink into unfounded despair.

…But I know what I felt. I know what I saw when I looked into her eyes the day of her graduation… That was love. That woman loves me and if she’s forgotten about that, she’ll remember it when I grab a hold of her little, pretty ass…

He burst out laughing as he snatched his house keys and wallet and left out of the place. He walked a ways down and waited until he could wave down a cab. Shoving his fingers in his mouth, he whistled for the bastard. The driver slowed, rolled the window down. The damn car smelled of smoke.

“Where are you going?” the Nigerian man asked with a big, pleasant smile.

“I’m not in the mood for this shit, man. You hate Brooklyn drop offs and pick ups, right? You’re just cruising through.” Nick rolled his eyes as the driver tried to look surprised, as if that wasn’t exactly what was going down.

“If I tell you, then you’ll decide to lie and not take me, right? I’m not in the car yet. You can just leave my ass here but you want to ask me while I’m still standing here on the damn sidewalk where I’m going… I hate that shit. Come on, man! Cut me a break!”

The driver smirked, pointed to the back of the car, and turned to start his meter.

“I’m going to Union Street, man. Rose Water restaurant…not too far at all,” Nick offered as he dug in his pocket, sliding his key inside.

The cabbie nodded and pulled away from the curb.

He felt that flip once again, and then another.

Dancing butterflies in a grown man’s belly… He couldn’t believe that shit. But he loved it all the same…

Is that him?
I thought he said his car was black though… a Pontiac GTO, I believe.

Her anxiousness was making her damn near light headed as she stood under the burgundy awning in front of the place. She checked the time on her phone; it marked a little after one. The food aromas wafting out of the establishment caused her stomach to groan and moan, but she couldn’t focus on such a thing—she had a much
nicer
menu to peruse and it stood at six foot three with dark hair and storm-cloud-colored eyes…

A woman passed her by with a tray of colorful drinks along with what appeared to be perfectly seared tuna. The restaurant was growing more and more crowded by the minute. Taryn had never dined there before, and at times had reservations about new places, but that was the least of her worries. She didn’t care if they were serving toad stew and a side of fried fish lips; she just wanted to see her baby, touch and smell his skin, run her fingers through his hair, and pull him close. Suddenly, a cab pulled up in the middle of the street.

She observed from a distance as a hand emerged from the backseat with a wad of cash in its grip, then the back door of the canary yellow vehicle bolted open in quick succession.

“Oh my God!” She bum rushed the man, didn’t even look at oncoming traffic, risking her life without a notion as she hightailed it in his direction. Catching her in his grasp, he swung her around like a ride in an amusement park. “Nick!” Hugging him tight, arms around his neck, she pressed her lips against his own, hard. His skin smelled of musky cologne and aftershave and his lips held a trace of sweetness, reminding her of the flavor of crisp, fresh apples. The cab drove off, leaving them there in an upchuck of exhaust and Nick had to practically carry her out of the street, for she wouldn’t let go…no, she
couldn’t
let go.

They entered the establishment and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Wherever he went, she went too and wherever he looked, her eyes followed. The man grabbed her hand and followed the waitress with short, thin blond hair, practically marching to their seats towards the back, by a long brick wall lined with earth-toned guitar pick shaped fans. He’d cut his hair, and looked almost the same as when he’d entered treatment, only his skin now had a healthy glow; his eyes didn’t dance with recent signs of reddened inebriation and he appeared hopeful, confident. Along the surreal journey, an invisible swirl of his cologne wafted past her, made her pussy pulse and vibrate like something electronic and kinky.

What I’d do to get you alone right now, boy…

Out the corner
of his eye, he observed Taryn take in the eclectic crowd. Some browsed online via their laptops or handheld electronic devices, while others sat huddled close to dark, frothy beers, their legs leisurely crossed and an old fashioned, thickly bound book in their hands. Some people donned relaxed smiles while engaging in small talk, their body language letting the world know they were thankful for the lunchtime reprieve. The courteous waitress placed them at their table, handing each a menu, and went through her spiel of the fresh specials of the day. As he listened to the woman, a part of him felt as if he’d been released from prison and cast upon a brand new world he’d only dreamt about. It wasn’t the facility; no, Firststone wasn’t the prison… it was his addiction…

He was now seeing and hearing things in an entirely new way. His senses were acute, for things he’d not noticed or simply accepted ‘as is’ seemed to now acquire new smells, textures, and had a story to tell. Everything from the reddish brown floor to the ebony iron ceiling gave him pause. When the woman walked away, offering them time to peruse their menus, he immediately grabbed Taryn’s hand, dragging her closer, and yet a bit closer still. His hand trembled ever so slightly, and he prayed she didn’t notice as he grazed the side of her face with his fingertips, falling in love with the silkiness of her flesh. Her eyes gleamed shiny and bright, like twin pools of hope. Her purple painted lips parted, showcasing the dazzling teeth he’d grown accustomed to.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, so do you.” They both laughed lightly. Now that he had her up close and personal, could sigh a bit with sweet relief, he studied her carefully. Her hair had grown out so much. It was still short, but could surely be wound around a finger or two. It glistened with each wave and curl, the sides tapered to her beautifully sculpted face. As if she’d gotten a chill, she removed the scarf from around her neck and wrapped it around her tresses in a cute little bow.

“It’s so good to see you, to hold you,” he choked out.

“You have no idea, Nick, how much I’ve dreamed of this moment. It was only two months, but at times felt like two years.” She looked away, down at her menu, tucking herself away from his sight.

He nodded, pulled back ever so slightly, allowed her a moment to gather herself. His damn heart was beating out of his chest and each breath he took tied itself with ribbon around her soul.

“So, uh, I saw you took a cab.” She looked briefly up at him, gripped her menu with both hands, then gave it another careful glance.

“Yeah, I took a cab.” He smirked, looked around the place, taking in more sights and sounds.

“But you told me that you hated cabs. We even joked about it once.” She turned a page, perusing the entrée selections.

“I do.”

“Then why did you take one instead of driving? It’s not like you got a D.U.I. or anything.” She looked back up at him, this time her gaze fixed on his.

“Because, Taryn,” he said before clearing his throat, “I want to remind myself of what I will be dealing with should I decide to not stay sober…”

“Wow…just, wow…” She smiled ever so slightly and shook her head. “That’s really something.”

“Yeah.” he said, still wearing his grin. “I don’t mind the train, but I hate cabs. They’re too fucking expensive, it’s inconvenient, sometimes they don’t want to pick me up, and then I have to resort to waving my police badge… It just isn’t my thing if I can avoid it. I need to know what it would feel like to have to deal with it all the time should my license be taken away because I’d relapsed. So, I promised myself that I would force myself to take a cab at least once a week to a place I really wanted to go.”

“Are you punishing yourself, too?”

He was struck by the question, for he hadn’t even ventured there when he’d decided upon it.

“Mmmm, that’s a good question, baby. Maybe? It’s possible, I suppose. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s for two purposes. Maybe it’s both.”

She nodded. “I bet it is…”

“We haven’t even been together for five minutes, and you’re already giving me food for thought. I love the shit out of you.” He leaned forward, gripped the woman by the back of her scarf-covered head and forced her into his grip. Pressing his lips urgently into hers, he claimed her and thrust his tongue inside her mouth, needing to taste her right then and there. Soon after, he reluctantly released her, and they simply stared at one another an additional second or two, before turning away in shyness. He loved it! And… he decided to tell her so.

“Why does this kinda feel like a first date or something? Like the girl I’ve had a crush on for months finally let me take her out? It’s crazy.” He laughed as he looked down at his menu, finally ready to focus and pick something to order.

“It does feel kind of like that…but it feels good. You look so great, Nick. How do you feel?”

“Honestly?” His brow lifted. “Happy, scared, excited…different. The same, strange…familiar.”

“How is your health?” Her face grew a bit more serious.

“It’s actually pretty good. I had another full physical right before I graduated. Cholesterol, blood pressure, all fine now.” He sighed. “How about yours?” His smile faded as his worries for the woman pulled at him, causing a slight delay to his next series of breaths. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, picked up her glass of water and took a thoughtful sip. “I’m great, actually. My scans show no return of the tumors… I’m NED.”

“Who’s Ned?”

She laughed lightly and slowly closed her menu. “No, I’m sorry. That’s cancer lingo. It means there is ‘No Evidence of Disease.’ It’s an acronym.”

He nodded in understanding. “There better not be… We have a lot to do, catch up on…build a life together.” The woman looked darn right startled by his words. Her eyes grew large and her lips parted as if ‘can you repeat that, please?’ would be her next utterance.

“Let me get right to it.” He shoved his menu further away and clasped his hands. “I want to—”

“Good afternoon, are you two ready to order?” The waitress stood before them, her notepad and pen in hand.

He sighed internally. He’d been gearing up to put himself out there, expose his inner workings, declare what he desired, and put his damn cards on the table but then, a road block arrived with a sweet grin and the wine menu…

“I’d like to have the panko fried shrimp and crushed purple potatoes,” Taryn announced.

“The
salsa verde
okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine.” She handed her menu back to the woman. “And I’d like an iced tea, please. Plain, no sugar, and lemon.”

“Of course. And for you, sir?”

“To drink I’d like a ginger beer, any brand is fine. For my meal let me get the fried goat cheese and grilled yellowfin tuna, please.”

“Wonderful. Anything else?” The server took the menu from his hands.

“That’s it for now, thanks.”

The woman nodded and walked away.

“Ginger beer, huh? I would have never seen you as a ginger beer type of guy.”