In the Nick of Time (62 page)

He smirked and played with the edge of the table, running his thumb slowly along it. “I like it; it’s pretty good actually.”

“Do you like ginger tea, too?” She raised her glass of water to her lips and took another sip.

“I’m not really a tea person…prefer coffee.”

“Hmmm, well, you haven’t had
my
ginger tea…” She winked.

“It’s special, huh? I’d like to try it. It better be as good as you say.” He tossed her a wink right back. “Look, I was getting ready to say something before we got interrupted.”

“Sure, go right ahead.” She folded her hands on the table and leaned forward, giving him her full attention.

“I love you so much, Taryn.” He paused, stared her in the eye. “I know you’re independent and all that shit, but—”

“All that shit?!” She mocked, laughing.

“Yeah,” he said. “But anyway, I don’t want you going from apartment to apartment anymore when you already have a home.”

“Nick, you’ve lost your mind.” She shook her head vigorously. “There is no way in hell I’m goin’ to go live with my parents! They—”

“No, no.” He smiled and raised his hand in the air to put a halt to her declarations. “Not with them. With
me
…”

At that moment, it appeared as if the woman’s complexion had been sucked through a vacuum, only leaving a shade of ash gray.

“You actually look scared!” He rolled his eyes and cracked up, leaning far to the side in his chair.

“No, I’m not scared…just…just surprised is all.”

“I want you to move in with me. I want you in my bed when I open my eyes in the morning. I want you wrapped up in our sheets, still warm from our sex. I want you to come home from your dream job, dead on your feet, and find a bath running for you with rose petals floatin’ in it… I want us to cook dinner together. I want to teach you Spanish and for you to teach me all of your wisdom… I want to have you as my very own, love you down, lift you up, and give you every damn thing you need. I can do it, if you let me.”

The woman’s throat grew tight right before his eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. She looked to the left, then to the right, a frown on her damn face. He wasn’t sorry, and if she didn’t like his suggestion, so be it—but he’d be a fool to not propose it, to have his woman couch surfing when she could be lying right next to him…

“Okay.” She held her head high, broke out in laughter.

“You almost had me going there!” He narrowed his eyes on her, waved his finger in her direction.

“I’m so glad you asked.” She cackled. “You know we aren’t supposed to do this, right?”

“What? Two addicts movin’ in together?” He nodded, clearly not giving a damn. “That’s what they say in AA… I don’t adhere to AA. I’ve read all of the books, the pamphlets, their info. They act like one size fits all. It doesn’t. We’re not all alike. I know what I need and what will work for me. I’m not saying I’m cured, or that I won’t be tempted again, that’s bullshit… but what I am saying is that having someone who understands me and what I’ve been through is what is going to help me, not hurt me.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Let’s take a step back…” She grew serious once more.

“Sure, what is it?”

“I, uh…” She hung her head and his heart immediately pounded faster. He reached over, grabbed the woman’s hands, and clasped them between his own.

“Whatever it is, baby, you can tell me.”

…Please don’t tell me you cheated on me, Taryn. I can take a lot of shit, but if you fucked around on me I just might lose it!

“I… I almost relapsed not too long ago.” A slow tear came down her face. “So, I think you should know that before I move in with you. I was
this
close!”

He quickly released her, pulled a napkin out of his pocket, and handed it to her. “Here, baby…”

She dabbed at her beautiful eyes, choked up a bit.

“Okay, let’s talk about it,” he offered. On the one hand, he was relieved she’d confessed; on the other, he was hurting so badly as he sat there and watched her cry.

“I’ve been going through a lot, Nick, and it sucked that I couldn’t call you, talk to you. I know you would’ve talked me off the cliff. We just have a way with one another.”

“I know… I know…”

“So, I have been having trouble getting people to hear my ideas. Money got low, so I even tried to get some modeling gigs. One of them was promised to me. I went in, and was ready to do the job, get back in the swing of things. They took my photos, everything seemed to go perfect and then… they called me and said they decided to go with someone else.” Another tear fell. “My self-esteem right now is kinda fucked up, Nick. That’s not like me…”

“I know.”

“I feel so weak, and silly! On the one hand, I don’t want to get paid for what I look like anymore. Then on the other, I’m mad because no one wants me because of what I look like. I’m so damn silly, so ridiculous.” She sniffed, dabbed at more tears. “Crying because they didn’t pick me…boo fucking hoo! Big damn deal.” She shrugged, trying to pull herself out of the funk right before his eyes.

“I have to now face the facts, face the music… I’m getting up in age in the world of modeling anyway,” she said with a grimace. “I used to be a force in the industry, and not to sound cocky, but I had my own look, you know? And no one could compete with me. If someone wanted me for their magazine, show, whatever, then they really wanted me…’cause I don’t look like everyone else and that was a plus. Now that I’ve had a double mastectomy and my hair is still not fully grown out, they look at me like I have five heads. These people still want the girl with the tits and curly, natural hair flowing down her damn back…but I’m not her anymore, and I’m fine with that.” She pointed to herself. “But my bread and butter is contingent upon being her and if I try to reinvent myself, which has been my mission since Firststone, no one wants to hear or see it.

“…I want to see it.”

She smiled ever so slightly. “Yeah, I love that you do.” She winked, sniffed and blew her nose.

“Look, you act like this changes something. I appreciate your honesty, okay? I don’t expect a perfect girlfriend, Taryn. What I expect is someone that is
trying
, someone that is putting their best foot forward and working towards positive goals. You are strong, okay? This is a roadblock, a stepping stone. You’ve fought much tougher battles than this and you’ll make it. Now what happened during this relapse?”

She looked at him for a moment or two, nodded and continued.

“Well, that incident happened with the job that fell through. I have no money. I was stressed out… I didn’t want to talk to anyone, just alienate. I actually picked up the phone and called someone I knew had some pills.” Her head dropped once again, and she withdrew within herself. She said nothing for at least thirty seconds. “I went to the dealer’s home, and we got into it… It wasn’t pretty.”

“What’s his name?”

“Yeah! Like I’m going to tell my cop boyfriend and then believe you’ll not do anything.” She laughed mirthlessly. “It’s over, baby.” She waved him off. “I survived, didn’t want the shit, didn’t take anything. I am still disappointed in myself though, that’s why I told you. I want to always be honest with you… even if it makes me look bad.”

He leaned back in his chair and did a slow clap, causing her to blush and lift her head ever so slightly.

“Stop focusing on your fuck-ups. That is one of the biggest lessons you taught me, Taryn. Instead, pay attention to the progress and the process and all that you’ve accomplished. You tell me that you’re trying to reinvent yourself, right?”

“Right.”

“And that these photographers, agencies and designers are rejecting you. Okay, everything that is new is rejected at first, Taryn. People get a certain idea in their mind, and it’s hard to break from that at times. You keep on pushing forward… you keep selling, and eventually you will find a buyer. Secondly,” he said, cleared his throat then continued, “You had a very serious illness. You were in
real
physical pain, which led to all of the shit you subsequently dealt with in order to get healed. If people aren’t sympathetic to that, screw ’em. You’re gifted, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re resourceful. You are wise beyond your thirty-two years… and you have a hell of a man who is madly in love with you.”

She laughed, tossing her head back. “I do have a hell of a man…that’s true.”

“And so is everything else. So, you are already ahead of the game, not behind. Focus on that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Do we have a deal?”

“We do.” She picked up her napkin and spread it across her lap, her smile growing forever bigger.

“Alright. Now, I want you moved in as soon as possible. I got nothing but time… I don’t go back to work until next month and trust me, they are going to have me get established in a slow fashion. It’s just normal procedure. So let’s not waste this valuable time, okay? Let’s arrange to get a truck for your stuff in storage, get you over to my place…
our
place. We’re about to make some shit happen. Welcome home, beautiful…”

…Later that evening

“I
t’s closed until
eight tomorrow morning.” She tossed her cell phone on the glossy, emerald green dining room table trimmed in gold.

“We’ll get a few things and come back.” His eyes darkened as he pulled her by the lapel of her jacket, made her come to him. A smirk creased her face as she raised her hand and combed her fingers through his hair. Slowly, she closed her eyes, anticipating his next move, relishing the way the softness of his mouth moved against her own. His warm hands moved to her back, exploring, holding her tight.

I don’t know where his bedroom is, but we’re going right now!

She began to push into him, tried to force the man back into the recesses of a darkened hall decorated with mirrors and what she presumed was imitation fine art in elaborate silver frames. They moved like a fine-tuned locomotive, their limbs frantic to grip one another, fingers searching and grabbing fabric, trying to tear it away and expose their heart’s desire.

“Mmmm!” He moaned as he jerked at his shirt, forcing the thing open, exposing his hard chest and the long, silver chain she’d been accustomed to seeing draped around his neck. It swung in the semi-darkness like a pendulum as they pulled and tugged at one another until he reached behind himself and turned his bedroom doorknob. She could feel his resistance, and her body followed the laws of inertia as she chased and followed after him once he departed from her oral embrace. He hit the light, and made haste to fling his shoes off, his pants and underwear soon to follow. Close behind, she removed her blouse, her fitted tank top and her form hugging jeans that she’d spent an entire morning trying to pick out. The room smelled of clean linen, like fresh laundry right out the dryer and a bountiful amount of fabric softener to boot. On his dresser sat a glass figurine of a police hat and on his nightstand, carefully placed crystal containers filled with odds and ends, including a watch and spare change.

He’s clean…doesn’t seem obsessive about it, but keeps a nice place…