Trivial Pursuits Ch. 21

Over the next week and a half, Denny and Alessa did the best they could to see each other as much as possible. With the increase in his work load, it wasn't easy. However, when they were free, they ate dinner together at the office while he worked to get the new company off the ground. And though they were often tired when they got home, they made the effort to connect physically, whether it was to shower together, give the other a massage, although any attempt to just kiss and cuddle typically grew beyond those simple touches until they were consumed in orgasmic bliss, wrapped desperately in the limbs of the other.

Denny didn't sacrifice his early morning workouts, and Alessa watched as his routine began to take its toll on him. Though the awareness of her feelings was slow in coming, she began to make the effort to care for him. If they were lounging on the couch reading, she would mindlessly stroke the knots from his neck, bring him his afternoon tea, or offer to perform lesser tasks to ease his workload, and she always made his lunch and dinner. In a way it was just easier to make a double portion of whatever she made for herself, but it sprung from a deep place that wanted to see him cared for.

It took ten days of living together, caring for one another, that Alessa felt compelled to confess her own feelings, to reveal that, yes, she did in fact love him. On Tuesday, she made him promise to be home by eight on Wednesday as she had something special planned for him. Denny, always grateful whenever Alessa displayed the smallest bit of initiative in their relationship, simply smiled and agreed. She would prepare a nice meal, steak as it was his favorite—maybe broiled, maybe a garlic butter sauce—wear the racy, low v-cut black strappy dress she'd never had the courage to wear, and give him the geode she'd bought.

Wednesday morning, she got up with Denny, but as he went to workout, she got ready for work. Though it was a cold December morning, she wanted to tease him until he was eaten with anticipation, and so she wore her form fitting claret dress with ruffled cap sleeves. Her nude heels made her legs go on forever, and as she was reaching for her overcoat, Denny walked back into the flat, sweaty and still breathing hard.

He stopped midstride as he took in her alluring form. "Heading out early?" he asked as his hot gaze slid up her body.

Alessa felt the heat rushing up her face. "Yes," she managed to say in a strong voice. "Busy day, and I want to come back after my run at six, so I should get started." She slipped her camel coat on and picked up her bag. "See you there," she said as she kissed his cheek and slipped out before he could grab her.

Alessa had just stepped off the bus near the office when her phone rang. Before answering, she checked the caller ID. It was Bill, her stepfather. Her stomach instantly sank. She hit the ignore button and slipped the phone back into her pocket. He called around ten, which she again ignored. When he called at two, he left a voicemail, but she didn't want to hear his voice, didn't want to have that dampen her day. The voicemail could wait.

As anticipated, her tight, wine-colored dress did the trick to draw Denny's eye. Whenever he had occasion to talk to her, she caught his eyes wandering over her possessively, thrilling her, spurring her to be coyly flirtatious. And for her actions, she was caught off guard once again in the copy room of the library late that afternoon.

"Hasn't anyone told you there are consequences for flirting?" he asked in a husky voice as he pinned her to the wall. His mouth was dangerously close to hers, and she was mesmerized by the sensual curve of his upper lip, unable to think of anything but the smooth glide of it over hers.

"Flirting? Who me?" she whispered. "Who was I flirting with? I promise, when I laugh at his jokes, it's just to be polite," she teased breathlessly, her body suddenly very ready to come undone in his hands.

Denny gave an annoyed growl at the suggestion that she had flirted with another man and crushed his mouth against hers. For a moment, Alessa opened herself to be ravished, finding that her flirting had done more than arouse just him, that it had also aroused herself. Her fingers were in his hair and her hips were curving around his thigh until voices from somewhere in the library pulled her from the magic of his embrace and into reality. She pulled back and licked his lips once to tantalize him further, though she had every intention of leaving him unsatisfied.

"Now, now, Mr. Ashbury, behave yourself. Or did you forget we are in a place of business?" she reprimanded as she slipped from between the hard wall and his warm body. "I have to get this finished before I leave, or we won't be having my little surprise later," she declared looking over her shoulder at him as she hit the start button, the machine humming to life as a band of light hypnotically slid across her face before quickly returning to the other side.

Denny was getting hard, and he could only think of getting off at the moment. "Fuck," he muttered, though he couldn't keep from smiling, if not a little devilishly, at being had. "Very well, Ms. Allen. Then I'll see you at home." He turned to leave. "And not before," he stated pointedly, warning her that anymore attempts at distracting him would not be welcome.

She raised an eyebrow before nodding. "Very well. At home, then." Alessa didn't even wait for six o'clock before she closed everything down and headed to her gym for a run. She ran faster than was her typical pace, an eager excitement energizing her to perform better. She picked up the last of the ingredients on the way home, and after a quick rinse off in the shower, she dressed in the slinky black dress and set about making a delicious dinner.

She was just pulling out the broiled steaks when her phone rang again. Unsurprisingly, it was her stepfather. She tried to ignore it, but when a text came through, her heart stopped. He wrote that her mother had been taken to the hospital early that morning. It didn't look good. In a flurry of action, Alessa changed out of her provocative dress into jeans and a sweater while texting Denny that dinner was cancelled; her mother was in the hospital. She blew out the candles and left the intended gift sitting at his spot at the table. She hopped in her little car and sped to the Oakland hospital where her mother had been transferred.

Thankfully by the time Alessa arrived, it was late enough in the evening that the parking lot wasn't overrun with cars and she was able to find a close spot without having to navigate the confusing, desolate underground hallways. She found the directions to the ICU waiting room, and though the hospital had done a commendable job of remodeling the former white, sterile spaces into something mimicking wood and the warmth of home, the frantic pain in her heart wasn't fooled into believing anything but the worst.

"Bill, what's going on?" she asked quickly when she saw him sitting slumped in a large maroon leather chair, ubiquitous of waiting rooms everywhere.

When he looked up, she saw the red eyes and tears. He looked awful. "Baby, it isn't good," he answered. She ignored the crawl of her skin and focused on finding out information.

"What happened?"

"I found her this morning," he trembled as he remembered. "She wouldn't wake up. That's when I notice-" he took a shaky breath, tears repooling in his eyes, "her bottle of Tramadol."

"What about it?" her voice questioned, low and hard.

"It was empty. We'd just gotten it refilled yesterday. A month's worth. Ninety of them. Gone."

She couldn't stop the tears immediately springing in her eyes. "What are you saying? She...took them? On purpose? Why? Why would she do that? Why?" she asked, a frantic quality growing in her voice.

He was crying now as he shook his head and stared blindly at his hands. "She didn't want to do it anymore. She wouldn't get a new liver and she didn't want to be sick anymore," he managed to say between his sobs.

"What about her liver?"

"The Lupus, baby, it was killing her liver. There wasn't anything they could do. They couldn't give her a new one because her disease would just kill it, too."

Alessa stood and backed away, feeling suddenly more betrayed than ever. "She knew this? You knew? Why didn't she say anything?"

He lifted his pitiful face, tears soaking his fat cheeks. "She didn't want you to worry, baby." Her skin crawled and her stomach lurched.

"I want to see her. I want to see her, now," she stated firmly.

He took a shaky breath before standing up and wiping his cheeks. He went through a door that marked the entrance to the ICU. In a short minute, he was back with a young woman in scrubs. "She'll take you back. Since you're here, baby, I'm going to go to the diner and get something to eat. Haven't eaten all day. Be back." And with that, he trudged away, his sniffles still audible even after he had rounded the corner and was out of sight.

The young nurse led Alessa through a wide, circular central area with individual rooms around the perimeter. The walls were sliding glass doors so the sleeping patients were visible to the nursing staff. Her mother was on the far side.

Alessa eyes swept around the small cubical. "What is all this stuff?" Her tone emotionless.

"Well, she wasn't breathing on her own when she arrived, so they intubated her," she explained.

Despite the faux wood paneling and soft green curtains, the shrill beep beep beep of the machines, the flashing green and red lights on the monitors, and the whoosh of the respirator machine all kept Alessa rawly rooted to reality.

"Can she hear me?"

The nurse said nothing at first, before responding with a well-trained smile, "If she can, I'm sure it would do her good to hear your voice." There was another pause as Alessa stared at her mother in the white gown with small blue designs. Her hands were lying cadaverously on top of the white blankets. The only proof that she still live was the stark fact that they were connected to IVs and oximeters. Her mouth was agape, and taped to her lips was a large, invasive plastic tube that ran down her throat.

"I'll leave you alone with her."

Alessa was vaguely aware that the sliding glass door didn't close completely when the nurse left. She stood in the middle of the small space for an unknown length of time, waiting for something to remove the surreal cruelty of it all. And then she was moved by the need for comfort, her mother's comfort.

"Mom," she whispered as she took a desperate step forward and then another until she was sitting down next to her, her face leaning closer as if to scrutinize the shut eyes, to compel them open. "Mom," and then she shuddered at the pathos heavy in her voice. She reached to take her hand, but paused as she took in the small clip attached to the end of her mother's index finger. Deciding it was harmless, she held her hand, noting how cold it was. It wasn't the lights, she knew, that made her mother appear so yellow. How had she not realized, not put together the last time she saw her how sick she was becoming?

Because she hadn't wanted to face it. Hadn't wanted to accept the possibility. The mortality. The loss. "Mom," she pleaded, suddenly needing nothing more than her mother's smooth hands on her cheeks. She placed her cool hand against her wet face, pressed it against her, but it wasn't the same. It was just a hand. It wasn't full of her mom's love, of her mom.

It was all so unfair, Alessa thought, a desperate helplessness and anger boiling in her chest. The feelings burned her, both warring for the uppermost place in her consciousness. And when the vacillating pull of anger and despair became more than she could handle, she gave up and wept, her head buried against her mother's stomach, her lifeless hand limp against her cheek. She wasn't allowed to sob long, as the young nurse had returned, bringing a box of tissues for her tears and a gentle hand on her shoulder to lead her out. She sat with her in the waiting area while Alessa did her best to stem her tears as-despite the enormity of pain and anger-she didn't feel comfortable enough to blubber in front of a stranger.

When she seemed somewhat together, the young woman smiled at her, patted her shoulder and left. But Alessa heart was far from calm, a growing fury raising with each broken beat. And the more she thought about the unfairness of her mother's life, the more the blackness churned and rose until hot tears once again flowed from her eyes. She had drawn her feet up to the seat, her forehead resting against her knees while she wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Alessa?"

Her eyes snapped open.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"Bill called me this afternoon. He was worried because he couldn't get ahold of you. He told me what happened," Alex explained, coming to sit next to her.

Whatever had been brewing inside of her sent electric currents out to surround her, charging the air with the tension in her heart. She sat up, stiff, her feet dropping to the floor. She nodded, trying to engage, not yet aware of her strained response to her father's presence.

"How's she doing?" he asked, placing his arm around her.

She barely shook her head. "Don't know. Not good."

"How are you doing?"

Again the minute shake of her head. "I'm surprised to see you here," she blurted.

"Well, of course. I care about you and your mom."

Her brow wrinkled in disbelieving confusion. "You care about my mom?"

Alex didn't hear the note incredulity in her voice. "Of course. We were married."

"Yeah, but you're not any more. In fact, you did the exact opposite thing you should have done if you had cared about her."

Alex frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You left her. You left us."

Alex face softened as he lifted his shoulders up in a gentle shrug, his palms turning face up. "But that doesn't mean I stopped caring."

Alessa stood suddenly, spinning round to stand in front of him, her fists forceful at her sides. "How can you say that? How could you have hurt her so horribly and still claim you care about her? You have no idea how miserable her life is and all because you left us!" the hot, furious tears were back. They blurred her vision, and in her ire she swiped angrily at them. At seeing her distress, Alex stood as well, reaching her for her futilely. "No!" she said, pushing his hands away and taking a step back. She clutched her own arms around her middle now, tears refusing to stop pouring down her cheek. "My mother's life has been hell because of your selfishness. My life has been hell because of you! Don't you see that? Don't you get that?"

"Why has your life been so bad?" he asked, saddened and perplexed.

"How can you ask that? Have you no idea how heinous your wife is to me? Don't you see how Shelly treats me? She hates me! She's always hated me and treated me just like the unwanted stepchild. And yet, never, in all these years have you once stood up for me. Once told her that her words were mean and inappropriate."

"Shelly doesn't-"

"Don't you dare fucking deny it!" she hissed, refusing to allow him to avoid seeing the truth. "Every damn thing she says is a caustic, disparaging remark. She either alludes that I'm dumb or not pretty or not good enough to fucking breathe. And the fact that you are so oblivious to it makes me wonder if you don't somehow agree!" she ranted, finally voicing her deep-seated fears.

"Alessa, I know how brilliant—"

"Stop ignoring it! Stop ignoring how she treats me! Stop being so oblivious to how your selfish behavior has hurt me. If you hadn't left, my mom never would have married Bill—" but here she stopped, her arms tightening around her even more as she turned from her father. Alessa's lips were pursed together to keep from saying anything more. Her eyes were closed to shut out the world.

"Alessa, sweetie, talk to me," Alex pleaded.

She only vehemently shook her head, wishing her denial could eradicate reality. She drew in a shaky breath, suddenly even more raw at having torn at her father. "No," she said, shaking her head again. "I don't want to talk about any of that right now." She didn't turn around, but knew she'd have to resolve the matter at hand, if only temporarily. "I don't want you here. I don't need you here. Please, please just go and we can talk about it later. Right now," another shaky, resigning breath, "right now it doesn't matter. I just need to focus on my mom. I'm sorry I brought it up."

Alex was silent before he complied. "Alright, I'll go. But I do want to finish this discussion, to say whatever there is to be said. I hope your mother pulls through," he offered sadly. "At least...at least give me an update? If anything changes?" He waited the several seconds it took for her to nod in agreement. Before he turned to leave, he reached out his hand for her, but it fell away as he simply said, "I love you, Alessa."

Reluctantly, Alex left her, the weight of the pain of his child finally registering and settling deep inside his gut like cold stones. As he headed down the hall and turned the corner to the elevator, he stopped short, suddenly surprised by Denny who had arrived in the middle of their argument and chosen to stay quiet in the shadows. The two men exchange stern expressions, each somehow warning the other to not hurt her before Alex continued on his way.

When Denny heard the ding of the elevator and the swooshing of its doors, he emerged from his hidden position around the corner and slowly walked to her, knowing a hurt animal was a wary and dangerous thing. "Sweetheart," he whispered a moment before he slipped his gentle arms around her. Surprisingly, she didn't push him away, but instantly turned to him, burying her wet face against his chest. He held her while she poured a lifetime of her pain out onto him. He sat with her quietly as she explained through tears all that had happened with her mother and her fears of the worst and how somehow her interaction with her father had diverged into the painful episode he had just witnessed. Denny was patient and tender as he held her, guiding her to the chairs so they could sit and wiping her tears with his thumbs.

Eventually Bill returned and Denny introduced himself to the stepfather whose deeds he knew were responsible for so much of his damaged girl's mentality. It was all he could do to restrain himself to not punch the creep in the face.

As there would be no news from any doctor for quite some time and her mother appeared stable, Denny took Alessa home. Wordlessly, she undressed and went to bed, while Denny looked around the kitchen. She had planned such a nice evening, but the steaks were cold now, as were the potatoes. He sighed and got busy putting the food into the fridge. Walking through the dining room to join her in bed, he spotted the gift at his place at the table. Denny sat down and eyed it thoughtfully. He gave pause before reaching for it, wondering if he should wait for her to be present. He looked at the tag attached to the pretty silver ribbon.

Because you see me

He opened it slowly, his curiosity now piqued. Denny was surprised to find the breathtaking geode, mesmerized by both its beauty and meaning. He slowly turned it over in his hands, revealing the inner qualities that sparkled dazzlingly even in the dim light. He smiled softly as he sat it down, and then with a weariness born of so many more things than the commonplace life, he went to bed, carefully drawing the sleeping woman into his arms.