To Hell and Back (9 page)

I’m moving a little more stiffly than I was a couple of hours ago.  It’s hard to bend enough to take off the ill-fitting blue sweatpants Claire found for me, but I don’t want to sleep in them. She also gave me a t-shirt with the words “CALL ME” emblazoned across the front and a grey zip-up hoodie that’s a couple of sizes too big. She apologized for the quality of the clothing and for not finding a warmer jacket, but apparently people only tend to leave behind things they really wouldn’t mind losing.  I thanked her profusely anyway because it was either this or a hospital gown and I was NOT leaving in something that doesn’t cover my entire backside!  Whatever state it’s in, this is my only outfit and I’m not going to sleep in it.  I have on a pair of throw-away underwear Claire grabbed from the labor and delivery floor but no bra.  I reconsider and leave the t-shirt on when I remember Carson saying he would “check on me” later.  It looks like a portion of my forty dollars will go to the cheapest bra and underwear I can find.  It’s going to take some getting used to having someone else take care of me like this.  I’m definitely not ready for Carson to take me underwear shopping.

I pull the quilt back to find soft flannel sheets beneath it and it feels like heaven to crawl into a bed with a real mattress. How they expect anyone to relax on those hospital beds is beyond me. I’m too tired to think about anything else right now and I drift off with Carson’s kiss still on my mind and lips.

Chapter Nine

Brielle

When I open my eyes again, it’s getting dark outside.  A glance at the clock to my left says it’s 5:02 pm.  I’ve slept for 5 hours!  The sun sets so early in the winter that it seems like we’re forever in darkness.  I briefly contemplate rolling over and just sleeping through until sunrise but I really want to see Carson.  Also, Mrs. Hanley probably expects us both for dinner.  I’ve never had one of her home-cooked suppers, but she’s famous for making amazing traditional comfort foods. When all the rooms are full, her dinners are for guests only, but if there is open space she will book dinner reservations for people in town.  Mostly bachelors and widowers from what I’ve heard.  No take-out, though.  If she serves you dinner, you eat it in her dining room with real plates, real silverware, and real napkins. 

I sit up and stretch, wincing at the movement and carefully reaching for the bedside lamp. I’ve just turned it on when I hear someone knock softly. Carson’s voice comes through the oak door, saying “Brie? Are you awake?” My heart jumps into my throat at the sound of his voice and I check to make sure the covers are pulled up around my waist.

“I’m awake, Carson. Come on in.”

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he teases.  He has several shopping bags in his hands and I wonder what on earth he has been up to while I’ve been lying here.  He sets a pharmacy bag on the table and I realize I’m glad he insisted on filling my prescription.  “There is a water bottle in the bag if you want to take a dose now.  I know you said you didn’t want it earlier, but I thought after all these hours you might be in more pain than you anticipated.”

I blush as I look at him, knowing that he’s not only right, but he’s really thought about me.  He pulls the water bottle out and opens it, handing it to me.  He shakes out two pills and puts them in my hand.  I haven’t even said I want them but somehow he just knows.  “Thanks, Carson.  It is worse than I thought.  You’re reading my mind already?” I ask and he winks at me.  It’s enough to make me melt into the blue flannel beneath me. 

“I’m just taking care of you the best I can. If mind reading helps, then so be it,” he laughs. I’ve swallowed the pills and he takes the water bottle from me, kissing me on the cheek gently before he sets it on the table. 
Keep reading my mind, dammit! 
Just because I’m in a little pain doesn’t mean I want to be treated like a porcelain doll.

I’m already craving his presence, his touch, every bit of him I can have.  He moves away before I can make my thoughts clear, though, choosing to sit on a small chair I didn’t notice earlier.  It looks like an antique dining chair and, although it’s quaint and fits in well with the décor in here, he can’t be comfortable.  His tall frame and lean, muscled body look more like they’re fit for a La-Z-Boy recliner than a turn-of-the-century wooden chair.

I pat the bed next to me, unable to say anything.  Somehow the invitation to share a bed with me, even innocently, sticks in my throat. He shakes his head, though, and stays where he is. I know it’s silly, but rejection washes over me like a cold bucket of water. I’m trying hard not to feel insecure, but I can’t help wondering how long it will be before he tires of me. The helpless, inexperienced girl he rescued might be holding his attention for now, but I have nothing to offer him.  I still can’t wrap my head around the idea that he genuinely likes me or that he cares about me and wants to be right here by my side. That I’m falling hard for him is no surprise, but it’s hazy and dreamlike when I try to imagine him feeling the same way.

I decide to ignore the awkwardness and change the subject. “Just how tall are you?” I ask him.  He laughs a genuine laugh and I feel a little better at the sound. 

“More questions?” he asks me.  “I’ll tell you what.  I know you’re not used to people doing things for you and I saw you eyeing the shopping bags I brought in. For every bag I give you, you can ask me one question. Make it anything you want, but you can’t refuse any of my gifts. That’s what they are, Brie, gifts. Things I want to give you, things I want to do for you. So please let me.”

He knows how curious I can be!  How can I say no when I can ask anything I want?  Besides, as much as I don’t want to accept a thing from him, I don’t have much choice. With so little money in my pocket and some healing to do before I can look for a job, it will be a little while before I can contribute anything. I already feel guilty about what he must be paying for my room and board here, but I’m determined to pay him back as soon as I can.

“Deal,” I say with a smirk. I remember the kind of questions he asked me and I plan to get as much out of him as possible.

“I go first,” he says and picks up a very familiar looking pink-striped bag. I feel my face flush instantly and I know I don’t have to worry about going underwear shopping with Carson. He’s already gone by himself.

He hands me the bag and steps back from the bed a bit, almost like he’s afraid of my reaction.  I promised I’d accept the gifts; I didn’t promise to like it.  I reach in and pull out a variety of bras and underwear in all different colors and styles.  There must be twenty matching sets of underwear in here!  My face has gone from warm to inferno and I can’t even look up at him.  The thought of him walking around the store and picking out all of these things is more than I can handle. 

“Before you freak out on me, let me tell you that the salesgirl at the store picked out everything in this bag.  I didn’t even look through it; I just paid for it and left.”  Oh, thank God. “If anything doesn’t fit just leave it in the bag and I’ll return it,” he says. My face starts to heat back up as I check the tags and realize everything here is the perfect size.

“How-“

“Remember the night we went to dinner and I took a picture of you with my phone?  I showed that to the salesgirl and she made an educated guess.  I figured you were probably about a size four,” he says and adds, “When you spend as much time being fitted for wardrobe changes as I do, you get familiar with sizes.  Also, my sister is about your size and I know she’s a four because she always complains that the best clothes fit better on a size two. You’re both tiny, so I don’t know what a difference one size makes.”  He shakes his head.

I know a little about his sister already. Samantha Malone had a recurring part on Stonewall High during its last season. She’s about a year older than me, so that makes her two years younger than him.  Last I heard, she has a movie coming out this summer, but I’m kind of out of touch because I haven’t looked at a gossip rag since I met Carson.  It just doesn’t feel quite right anymore.

“Thanks, Carson.  It’s kind of awkward having you bring me underwear, but I’m really grateful to have it.”

“That’s it?” He sounds shocked.  “I worried about this one all the way back from the mall!”

Something dawns on me and I have to ask, “You know I think of you as my Carson, not as a celebrity, but that isn’t true for the rest of the world. So how does Carson Malone go to the mall and buy women’s underwear without causing an uproar?”

He laughs out loud and says, “You’d be surprised how well a baseball cap and glasses actually work. What’s good for Superman is good for me. Now, out with your question because I have more gifts to give you.”

“I’m going to ask this one Carson-style,” I giggle.  “So, how tall are you, what’s your favorite food, what’s your favorite color, and what’s the name of the movie you’re working on?”

“Oh, I see how this is going to go,” he says with a smirk. “Okay, I’m six foot two. My favorite food is pizza, but, from the smell of things downstairs, I think that’s going to change to Mrs. Hanley’s southern-fried chicken after tonight.  My favorite color is black and right now the movie is called ‘Into the Fray’.  That’s a working title, though, so it will probably change six more times before it gets to its first film festival.”

I’m instantly handed another bag and this one contains a huge pile of True Religion jeans in several styles and washes. I usually get my jeans at Walmart!  The twenty dollars I usually spend wouldn’t buy the belt loops on these!  My face must reflect what I’m thinking because Carson immediately chimes in, saying, “My sister swears by these.  She’s always saying they make her ass look good.  Not that there’s anything wrong with your ass, Brie. You deserve to wear the best since you have the best.”

Now how do I argue with that?  Damn, he’s good. “Thanks Carson.  I, uh, appreciate that,” I laugh and move on to my next question.  “How long did you date Madeline Young and how serious was it?”  I’m not sure I want to hear the answer to this but it seems like the easiest way to find out a little bit about his dating history.  It might not be fair, since I have no history to tell him about, but I can’t stand it and I have to know. 

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned her to me, Brie,” he says.  I remember throwing her name in his face the night I told him to leave me alone for good.  Maybe this wasn’t my wisest question choice.  “I’ll tell you, though, that she and I never really dated.  We have the same manager and he thought it would be good publicity for us to be seen together.  We went to a few of the same parties and let them photograph us together a bit.  It sounds cocky, but Madeline did have a thing for me for a while. She’s an okay actress, but off-screen, she’s kind of a mess. She really isn’t my type.  She isn’t you.”      

I give him a sideways look, letting him know I see through his flattery.  No matter what he says, a beautiful actress who has a “thing” for him makes me nervous.  I don’t have any real claim on him, so I squash the twinge of jealousy I’m feeling and think about my next question.  He turns the tables on me, though, asking, “Where are you getting all these ideas about Madeline, anyway?”

Oh, boy. Looks like guilty little secret number one is about to be revealed.  “I may have had a teeny obsession with gossip magazines for the last few years.  And a little celebrity crush on you, well, on Maxwell Presley.  Both of you, you as him, whatever,” I stammer. 
This is so embarrassing.
  “I haven’t looked at one of those since I met you, though.  It feels weird now.”

“Brie, pretty much everyone on this planet has looked through at least one of those things. They’re everywhere. But anything you want to know about me, just ask me. I never want you to wonder if something you heard or read about me is true.  I love that you had a crush on me, Brie. It’s actually adorable.”

“So you and Madeline, you never, um…” My words trail off and I can’t finish the thought out loud. 

“What? Slept together?” He looks surprised.  “No, Brie, we didn’t. There have been girls in my bed, though, I’m sure you must figure I’m no virgin. But now I’m all yours, Brie. There is no one else.”

“Carson, I’m, um… Well, I am a…”

“A virgin? I thought you probably were.  Your innocence is such a huge part of what I like about you.”

I’m embarrassed that my inexperience is so obvious.

“Brie, just because I’ve been with girls before doesn’t mean I expect that from you.  We’ll get there when and if you’re comfortable with it.  If it does happen for us, I’m happy that I will be the only one who has shared your bed.  Now I get to give you another gift.”

He hands me a small bag with a large diamond embossed in gold on the side. Dear God, he’s gotten me jewelry! “I know you usually wear those little gold hoops, but you don’t have them on now.  I guess those are gone for good, so I wanted to replace them for you.”

I peek in the bag and look back up at him. “There are two boxes in here, Carson.”

“Well, I wanted to replace them and get you something new. I can’t help it, I want to spoil you.  I answered your questions so you have to accept my gifts,” he said smugly.

I pull out the first box and, true to his word, it’s a pair of gold hoops very similar to the ones I usually have in my ears. These, however are definitely much better quality.

My hands shake a little as I pull out the second box.  Whatever is in here, I’m sure it’s too much.  I pry open the rectangular box and gasp.  Inside is a white gold chain with a gorgeous pendant; it’s the outline of a flower and it’s set all the way around with crystals.  My face pales a little as it occurs to me that those aren’t crystals; they’re diamonds. I just stare at the box, not sure what to say.

“It’s a lotus flower, Brie. It’s a symbol for new beginnings.”

There are tears flowing freely from my eyes as I look up at him.  He’s taken something that should be too expensive, too hard to accept, and made it perfect.  “Carson, I…”  I want to thank him, but there just are no words.  I reach for him and he finally sits next to me on the bed.