Our Last Time: A Novel (20 page)

September 15
th
, 2006, 4:19p.m.

Willow

Wyatt and I
had met up at his house for the past ten days around five o’clock in the afternoon. I hadn’t spent the night since that first night. He taught me how to cook a different meal every day. We’d watch a movie or listen to music while eating, and then I’d head back home. We still hadn’t had sex, but that hadn’t bothered me. I was immensely enjoying my time with him, and for me, that was good enough.

My vacation came to an end today. It was Friday, and today was the day Wyatt was scheduled to have his cast removed. I returned to work today, and so I knew I’d be there when he’d come in for his appointment. Tessa strongly disliked me because she was jealous I had gotten vacation leave. As usual, Denise told me to ignore Tessa, and she also said she had missed me the past two weeks. I had missed Denise, too, so I told her I had.

I had two patients to care for. It was tolerable throughout the day. I was fairly neutral. I had taken a break, and sat on a stool beside Denise. Work had been slow. I’d be able to head out by five, I had known.

She smiled at me, then asked, “You and Blanquette all over each other yet, or what?”

I stayed silent for a few seconds, causing Denise to grow impatient.

“Come on,
details
, Willow,” she pushed me to speak.

I had taken a deep breath. “I love him,” I said loudly, practically blurting the words.

Her eyes widened as I heard a
ding
sound, close to us. It was the elevator.

“Perfect timing,” she whispered to me, turning to smile at Wyatt as he stepped off of the elevator.

Our eyes clicked at the same level, and I couldn’t control the smile that took over my face.

“Hey, Willow,” he greeted, his smile just as huge as mine had been.

“Hey,” I said breathlessly.

He had taken quick strides towards me, invading my space. He leaned over the desk, grabbed my face with his one hand, and kissed me right there in front of Denise. It hadn’t been a simple peck. It was a hard,
rich
, feel-all-over type of kiss, and I was starting to call this kiss
‘the Wyatt kiss’
because I believed it was his trademark. It had been the best kiss in the world, I thought, or at least the best kiss I had ever experienced. I had known only Wyatt could kiss me like that.

“You’ll be in there with me, right?” he asked, after parting his lips from mine.

“Of course,” I said immediately.

He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Your hair looks nice when it’s curled like this.”

“I’m glad you think so,” I retorted. “Your hair looks nice like
this
,” I said, running a hand through his hair. “But you probably already knew that.”

He grinned, shaking my hand off. “Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand so I’d stand. He nodded his head towards Denise, who was smiling smugly at us. “Hey, Denise,” he greeted her.

“Blanquette,” she said, smiling warmly, then.

“What room am I in today?” he asked her, as I walked over so I’d be standing next to him.

She chortled, amused. “You know what room, boy.”

And so, we headed to room
209
.

He sat on the bed as I closed the door. “Are you cutting it off, or is the doc?”

“Me,” I replied, half-smiling. “Don’t freak out, though. It’s just a vibrating tool. It can’t hurt you, or anything.”

He smirked. “I won’t freak out, Willow,” he assured me.

“Can you promise me?” I walked over to him, and then stood in between his legs.

He placed his hand on my waist. “Yes, Willow. I promise.”

I chuckled before holding out my pinky. “Pinky swear?”

“You’re ridiculous,” he sighed, but he was smiling. He crooked his pinky over mine, and then shook. “Pinky swear.”

I had put a fresh pair of gloves on before getting all of the things I needed. I gathered them close before taking the cast saw in my hands, and turning it on.

He held his arm out, and I sawed across both sides of his cast. He hadn’t made a sound. I then pried each side of the fiberglass open with the correct tool. With the scissors, I cut through the layer of cotton, so it’d come all the way off. I handed him a clean wipe before discarding the fiberglass cast in the waste basket nearby.

He was grinning as he wiped his arm clean with the wipe. “Feels good,” he said to me.

“You still have to go through an X-Ray, though,” I told him.

He weighed his head back and forth before standing, so he could throw away the used wipe. “I don’t know,” I heard him say, and then he pulled me close so he could wrap his arms tightly around me. “My arm seems perfectly functional to me,” he insisted.

I looked up so I could see his eyes, and I smiled widely. I slung my arms over his shoulders. “You’re right, but that’s beside the point. Doctor Venice said-”

He interrupted me by pressing his lips to mine, making a loud smacking noise.

“Wyatt,” I sighed. “It won’t take long.”

He nuzzled my neck, his lips pressed just below my ear. “If it’s a required procedure, I guess I have no choice.”

I scoffed, gently pushing him away. “It’s just to make sure you’ve healed properly. It’ll take less than fifteen minutes,” I promised.

He said okay, and his hand rested on the small of my back as we exited room
209
.

Doctor Venice was there to escort him to get his X-Ray. “You’re leaving with me after this, right?” Wyatt asked, turning so he was facing me.

“I’ll follow you home again,” I said.

He smiled. “I’ll see you in less than fifteen minutes.”

5:21p.m.

Wyatt's elbow was
completely healed according to the X-Ray, but we both could have guessed that. I was parking on the curb in front of his house, now. He had gotten out of his jeep and was quick to approach me as I put my car in park, and clicked it off with the turn of my key.

He opened my door, smiling brightly at me. "I just opened your door for you with my left hand," he said to me, as I got out of the car.

"I see that," I said, grinning.

He shut the door, and hugged me. "You have no idea how happy I am to have my arm back."

I had an idea, but I hadn't said anything.

We went inside, and of course, he opened the door for me with his left hand. I was heading straight for the kitchen, but he had grabbed my shoulder to stop me.

"Nope. You sit on the couch. I'm cooking tonight," he told me.

I paused for a moment. "Okay," I said.

I wasn't going to fight him on it. This was something he had been wanting to do for ten days, or maybe even longer.

"How do you like your steak cooked?" he yelled to me from the kitchen.

"
Uh
, medium well!" I shouted as a response.

I was watching a random television show when he came in, carrying two plates of food. He had cooked rib-eye steaks, broccoli, and some homemade mashed potatoes.

I had known I was in love with him for a while, but somehow, as I sat here eating this food he cooked just for me, I had fallen just a little bit more.

"It's delicious," I told him. "Thank you, Wyatt."

"There's more," he said, as he slowly ate his food.

"More food?" I asked.

"No," he chuckled. "Well, yeah, there's more food, but I meant there's more that I want to do with you tonight. And I'd like it if you spent the night with me again, too."

"Okay," I smiled. "And I can arrange that. I just don't have any clothes," I shrugged.

"You can wear mine," he said simply.

"Wyatt..."

"I'm serious," he murmured. "And remember the drawer? I was serious about the drawer, too."

"You're too much," I blushed.

"Too much in a
bad
way?" he questioned, his expression quizzical.

"No," I answered immediately. "In an overwhelmingly good way, actually. I'm not used to being treated so greatly is all."

"Well," he sighed longingly. "You'll get used to it."

I smiled at that comment.

We were finished eating soon, and we both carried our dirty dishes to the kitchen.

"Do you have a coat in your car? It's going to be a little cold later," he spoke, as he scrubbed our dishes clean in the sink.

"I have a sweater."

"That'll do," he smiled over his shoulder.

Once he was done with the dishes, he grabbed my hand and held onto it tightly as he led me through the hall. Then suddenly, we were facing his front door.

"Where are we going, exactly?" I asked him quietly, my mouth close to his ear.

He grabbed and held my waist as he opened the door. He kissed my temple before he said, "That's for me to plot, and for you to find out at the right time."

"Whatever," I breathed, smirking.

We both got in his Jeep once I retrieved my sweater, and he started driving.

"Here, take my phone," he said, as he handed me the nicest phone I had ever seen up close.

"What kind of phone is this, and what do you want me to do with it?" I questioned, as I studied the device curiously.

"It's the new HTC Universal, but that's not important. Go on the web, and search 'places to visit in Chicago'. You pick one of the places, but I'm going to take you to my favorite spot first."

I was dumbfounded as I flipped the phone open, coming into view of a large screen and a qwerty keyboard. "Uh, is it touch screen?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "
What
, you've never used a cell phone or a PDA with a touch screen before?"

"No, Wyatt," I muttered. "I have a Motorola flip phone, which I thought was edgy enough, but apparently it's not as edgy as a pocket PC. That's what this is, right?"

"Yeah, it's a pocket PC," he sighed, but he hadn't made fun of me. He quickly pulled out a little wand from a hidden slot on the device, and handed it to me. "Use the stylus to click icons and links, and use the keyboard to type. It's fairly simple technology, honestly. You'll get the hang of it fast," he told me.

"If you say so," I whispered, as I used the wand to click on the Web icon. "This
is
pretty cool," I commented, as I did as he asked.

"I wouldn't own it if it wasn't pretty cool," he laughed lightly. "Did you find a place yet?" he asked.

I scrolled for a moment, but I had only one place in mind that stuck with me. "I didn't need to search the web to know this place exists, but how about the drive-in?" I asked slowly.

I saw a smile take over his face. "Do you have the number, so I can get the movie times?"

I grinned. "Dialing the number now," I said, as I handed him the phone.

I watched his face as he listened to the automated movie times, and as he hung up the phone, we were making a turn onto a dirt road. "There are two movies playing. One is at seven, and the other is at nine. What are you thinking? A romantic comedy from last year, or that new John Lennon documentary?" he made brief eye contact with me as he spoke.

"Hmm," I paused. "I'm thinking John Lennon documentary. Romantic comedies are kind of a drag. What are you thinking?" I smirked.

"Huh," he stared in wonderment as he came to a stop a few yards away from a line of train tracks, and an old picnic hut. "I'm thinking you're my soul mate."

I grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him. We both pulled back as a smile met both of our faces.

"What are we to do
here
?" I asked suddenly.

"Come on," he said, opening his door. "Follow me."

And I had done just that.

I hopped over the shifter, stopping him from closing his door by sticking my foot out.

"Willow, what are you doing?" he looked at me incredulously.

"Following you," I shrugged.

He laughed. "I didn't mean to this extent," he said, motioning towards my outstretched leg.

I snickered. "I thought it'd be funny."

"It is," he grinned. "But Willow, we're
adults
, you know."

I was glad he had it in him to mock me, honestly. I was way too caustic, and often self-deprecating. I couldn't have it any other way. We had similar humor, which for me, was hard to find. Even Kennedy had had enough with my sarcasm at times back in the day. Wyatt and I, on the other hand, could have been the masters of sarcasm.

"I didn't say we
weren't
adults," I lifted my eyebrows. "Are you going to let me exit, or what?" I asked, tipping my chin towards his left hand, which had been firmly holding the door in place.

"Oh, right," he immediately opened the door all the way for me.