The Beach House

"Well, it is a new kitchen. Monica stocked it all, and I don't know where anything is yet." I added a stupid smile to try and cover my ignorance.

"The same Monica who told me that if I didn't detox, I would go to jail?" Mia seemed truly intrigued by the web of Monica.

"Yep, and told me to help you detox or she wouldn't speak to me again." I didn't think before I spoke. I regretted my statement immediately and turned to Mia in attempt to rephrase.

"So you love this Monica?" What? Where did that come from?

"No! Absolutely not! We don't even like each other." I kind of blurted it out quickly. I didn't want anyone thinking I had any romantic desires for Monica.

"So why would you agree to help me?" She seemed intrigued as well as a bit agitated.

"She does things for me." I felt a bit nervous. I was screwing things up again. "I'm not good with people, so I pay her to take care of things." I pointed around the house. "All of this she did in three weeks." Saying it out loud sounded a bit ludicrous. I fell back to the truth and quietly added, "I'm glad she made me do it." Mia looked at me funny.

"You're glad she made you clean up my puke?" Mia was incredulous. I should never have opened my mouth. Why can't I ever think before I speak to other people? I couldn't look her in the eyes, so I looked at the floor.

"I'd do it again if it meant you would sit with me on the beach again." God, it sounded pathetic. I was pathetic. I heard a gasp and expected the worse. I wasn't going to hide from it this time. I lifted my head and Mia had a hand over her mouth. She had a strained look in her eyes. I guess she thought it was pathetic too. She shook her head and ran to the hall bathroom.

The retching started immediately followed by coughing and crying. She was in pain, and I felt it. I didn't make the pancakes fast enough. I ran to the bathroom with no idea what I was going to do about it. Her entire body went into convulsions each time she tried to throw up. Hardly anything was coming out, and you could see the pain in her eyes. There was nothing I could do. I sat down next to her and pulled her hair out of the toilet. I spent the next fifteen minutes trying not to cry.

Mia finally pulled back from the rim of the toilet wincing in pain. "God, that hurt!" There were tears down her face, and her eyes looked like they had just been punched. I grabbed a washcloth and soaked it with warm water. I sat back down and began to wipe her face clean. "I like you too, Dale." She gave me a weak smile. Her eyes were completely bloodshot and underlined by dark moons, her nose was bright red and runny, and she was pale as a ghost. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever met. I hugged her to me.

I finally got some water into her. I had her wrapped up in a blanket against me on the couch as another bout of shivering ran through her whole body. As I held her, I wondered how she broke through my walls. I stroked her hair and couldn't understand why I wanted to help her. I never wanted to help anyone before. I knew it wasn't because she saved my life, and it wasn't because of Monica's threats. I wanted her pain to go away. It hurt me to watch her. I ran my hand down her arm and saw the history of self abuse. Little bruised needle marks trying to heal. I didn't understand why I didn't find her appalling. I wondered if she would stay after she was better. A little fear began to fester. I shoved it aside. I knew where fear would lead. I would prefer that she left me than to shut her out again.

The night was long. I held Mia when she needed it and gave her space when she needed it. I always came back. She barely slept. Wave after wave of awfulness tore through her body. I cried when she wasn't looking. I have never seen anyone in such misery. She finally passed out around eight in the morning. I covered her and left her to sleep. I was so happy that it she was out of pain for the moment. I wasn't sure how much more she could take.

I was just pouring a cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to Dr. Williams. "Good morning, Doc," I said with a smile. Normally, a morning visitor would piss me off. "Got some fresh coffee on. Like a cup?"

"You're looking a bit more chipper than I expected. And yes, I would like one. Black." Wally smiled back and headed into the house. "How's Mia?"

"She's been sleeping for about an hour. She had a rough night, but we got through it." I poured him a cup of joe and handed it across the counter. He grabbed the cup and looked at me strangely.

"I've got to say, Mr. Tomlinson..." I quickly held up my hand and interrupted.

"Please... Call me Dale." I'd never done that before. It just seemed the right thing to do, and it made me feel good.

"Well Dale, I have a really good idea of what happened in the last 24 hours." He was examining my face as I took another sip of coffee. "I expected you to be a bit more frazzled. In fact I was surprised when I didn't get a phone call last night." I smiled. I didn't think I could explain it to him.

"I don't know how to explain it. We kind of got into a rhythm." I took another sip of coffee. For some reason, it tasted better than usual. "I think I actually helped make it less horrible." I smiled at the thought. That is exactly what I did.

"You'd make a hell of a nurse." He nodded his head to me as he took another sip. I wondered if he thought the coffee was good. "Not many people are built to handle a detox." I smiled inwardly at the compliment. He chuckled a bit, "I think that Monica thought it was going to be a bit tougher on you." Now, that made me smile outwardly!

"Who knew? Yesterday, I would have agreed with her." No need to hide the fact that this was new to me also. I actually enjoyed surprising the doctor as much as myself. I hoped secretly that he would convey his thoughts to Monica as well. Wally pulled a pill bottle out of his pocket and laid it on the counter.

"Sometime today or tomorrow, the violent symptoms will cease." His voice slipped into a clinical tone. "As soon as Mia can hold down food, she needs to start taking these vitamins." he was gesturing to the bottle. "They should help rebuild her a bit quicker. The detox has a tendency to zap the body pretty hard." His expression became more serious, and he made sure he had my attention. "Dale, the next part is a bit harder." I didn't like the sound of that.

"Detox will lower her tolerance for heroin. It is extremely important that she not begin using again." He again made sure he had my attention. "Mia could easily overdose if she went back to her old patterns." Fuck! That wasn't at all a pleasant thought. I didn't even think someone would consider reuse after what I saw yesterday.

"You are going to have to find out why she started using and ended up driving that boat into the rocks." He was very serious, and I didn't like what he was implying.

"She was just stoned and lost control of the boat." I was trying to defend Mia. There is no way she meant to hit the rocks. His face became more sympathetic.

"Heroin doesn't remove all your inhibitions. It doesn't suddenly make you stupid. It removes the pain of life." He was having trouble explaining. "She meant to hit those rocks, and she didn't expect to survive it." Oh God! I didn't want to hear this. Somehow I envisioned the heroin was some kind of accident that got out of hand. It was a much better history than what he was proposing.

"We have to find out why she did it." I was looking down at my coffee cup. I wasn't sure I wanted him to continue. "She is not going to want to tell you." I remembered the pain when she told me to "get the fuck out!" I would take the puking any day over that. "If she doesn't face her demons, her future is not good. We have to heal both her body and her mind." I looked up from my cup, and I knew my eyes were watering and my hands were shaking. His expression quickly changed.

"Oh shit! I didn't realize," Wally continued in a softer tone. "I can bring in a professional to get her through this. This can get pretty painful, and feelings get hurt during the process." He looked at me with sorrowful expression. "It's normal that you would feel a bond with your patient, but it's rarely healthy if you let it go too far." Suddenly I was pissed. That he would insinuate that my concern was some kind of normal bonding process that should be ignored. Mia wasn't just my patient. She was as much my nurse as I was hers.

"Mia and I are two sorry fucked-up individuals." I didn't care how it sounded. Wally looked shocked at my statement. "We will get through this together and we don't need any psychiatrist screwing things up." I was looking him straight in the face. In the past, I would have left the room instead of entering into a confrontation. Not now, not with Mia at stake.

"Dale, I don't think..." Wally was interrupted by a weak voice from the hallway.

"You heard him Doc." It was Mia, dressed in my robe and pale as ever, leaning against the wall. She was looking at me. "I'm not going through this with anyone but Dale." Her smile was weak, but it felt like an ocean of waves. Wally looked between Mia and me a couple of times and sighed.

"Okay. If you two are still friends after this, I will eat my hat." He realized he couldn't stop it. "I would still like to drop in and monitor your physical recovery Mia." I still couldn't believe she backed me up. In public. I answered for her.

"That would be great Doc. I would hate for her to be sick any longer than necessary." I realized I was still staring at Mia's smile and quickly returned to looking at Wally. He was shaking his head, wearing a smile.

"Not what I expected at all." He chuckled and held his hand out to me. I shook it and winked at Mia. "I'll be back in two days to give you a physical, Mia." She gave him a weak wave. I showed him out the door. I gathered Mia in my arms.

"I was hoping you would sleep a bit longer." I whispered to her. She still looked weak.

"I got your back baby." I know she tried to sound strong, but it just kind of trickled out. So adorable. I brought her back to bed. She surprised me by dropping the robe before climbing naked into the bed. I felt guilty admiring her curves as I pulled the covers over her naked form. "I am so tired... Just can't seem to stay asleep." She yawned as she said it.

"Be right back." I said and for some reason I kissed her forehead. It was cold and clammy but very soft. I headed to my office library room or at least what I envisioned Monica thought it should be. I looked across the shelves and picked up my 25-year-old copy of The Hobbit. Sitting on the desk was the book I was reading the day Mia saved my life. I knocked it into the trash. I was sick of my old rules and the book really sucked.

I pulled a chair up next to Mia. I sat and propped my legs up on the edge of the bed. I opened the book and began to read. I always loved The Hobbit and the trilogy that followed. A story of the small and meek defeating evil and changing the course of all for the better. It got me through some pretty tough times. I wasn't sure it would suit Mia's literary taste. I just figured her mind needed to rest. I would read, and she only had to listen. I looked over between paragraphs. Her eyes were closed, but she was wearing a smile. I could tell she was still awake. I continued reading.

By the time I got to the second chapter, Mia was out cold. Her head had tilted to one side, and her mouth had a little drool hanging on for dear life. I closed the book and watched her for a few minutes before my head drooped down and I joined her in dreamland.

I awoke later with a stiff neck. Sleeping in a chair has a penalty for those in their thirties. Mia was gone. I wasn't surprised at first. She had been getting more animated as the hours wore on. Then I remembered Bob's comments about old habits, and I got a bit scared. I searched the bathroom and the other bedrooms on the way down the hall. I picked up my pace and didn't slow down until I saw her sitting on a stool in the kitchen. She had her back to me, looking up at a cabinet full of SpaghettiOs. Embarrassment creep into my bones.

"Ahh, that's kind of a little obsession of mine." I scratched my head trying to figure a way to explain my childish tastes. She didn't move or respond. Something wasn't right. I walked carefully around the counter, my concern was rising. As I got close, she turned to me. There were tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Adrian loved those. Sometimes, it was the only thing I could get him to eat." I could see the pain in her eyes. I didn't understand the context, but I knew it hurt bad. I pulled her to my shoulder and closed the cabinet.

"I'll get rid of them." I didn't care if I ever ate another can. "I'm so sorry you saw them." I didn't know what else to say. I had no idea why they triggered so much pain.

She pulled away from my shoulder. "No, you'll keep them right there." Her crying had stopped, and the tears were smeared by my shirt. "They are good memories: Adrian coming home from school, the kisses and hugs." She was tearing up again. "I tried to get him to eat better, but he loved that crap." She was blubbering, half laughing, and half crying. I saw more pain, and I had no way to take it away. I asked the obvious question, the one I really didn't want an answer to, but I knew she had to answer for me.

"Adrian is your son?" I gave it present tense, hoping I was wrong, but knowing where this type of pain comes from. I felt it when my Grandma died. She dropped her head back to my shoulder.

"Was." She said quietly. "One minute, life was great, and the next, there was a cop at the door." She was crying and holding me tighter. "One fucking accident, and my whole family was gone." Even though I knew it was coming, I wasn't prepared. I felt my Grandma's death all over again as Mia dredged up the memories of her loss. I think I knew where the "get the fuck out of here!" came from. God help us, we were two sorry fucked-up individuals.

I led her to the couch in the living room, and we sat. I wiped the tears from my eyes and prepared to listen. "Tell me about Adrian." I knew I had to know for her sake. He had to live again, if just for a moment in this room.

I listened for over an hour as she told me about Adrian and his father Carlos: their lives and their dreams. Adrian was obviously in line to be the next President of these United States. She was married for eleven years before the accident. Adrian was ten at the time. I noticed the color coming back to her face as she went on about Adrian's exploits. I heard how he broke his arm climbing a tree and how he won a book contest, how he had drawings all over the house, and when he drew on the house when he was three. I envied Carlos those eleven years. She looked so alive reliving them. I could only imagine the amount of love in that household. When she was done, she sighed.

"I'm so sorry you lost them." It was a useless statement, but I couldn't just keep staring at her. She scooted over to me and laid her head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her.

"I can't even remember if I told them that I loved them that morning. It really bothers me that I can't remember that." She wasn't crying or blubbering anymore. It was just a pain that wouldn't go away.

"Even if you didn't (which I doubt) they knew it." If her description was even half way true, they wouldn't have had any doubts."It didn't sound like your family was lacking in the love department." I absently stroked her hair. I really like playing with her hair. It seemed so natural to be running my fingers through it. Her timing was a bit bad, but she said what I had already figured out.

"Heroin lets me forget them." I was a little surprised that she didn't use past tense. "I shoot up, and it all goes away." She fluttered her hand in the air. I didn't comment on her verb tense. I was hoping it was just a slip and not a Freudian one.

"You've got some of your color back." I smiled. "What do you say to something to eat?" I wanted to get off the subject of heroin, at least for one more day. She sat up.

"Dale, you haven't eaten either." She had a concerned look on her face. "We've got to get something into you, too." She stood and headed to the kitchen with determination. I followed happily. She seemed to be getting better by the moment.

We finally cooked the pancakes. I had syrup on mine, and she shied away from the sugar. Dry pancakes and water seemed to suit her stomach. We talked about nothing special as we cooked and ate. It was as if she had lived here her whole life. We decided to spend part of the afternoon down on the beach. The summer sun was shining, and we had been cooped up inside too long. I carried down one of the pool loungers so no one would have to sit on the sand. We shared the dumb umbrella.

She was still in my robe. We would have to do something about that. I didn't even know where she lived. We lay listening to the waves. I tried not to stare as she exposed her legs to the warm air. They had a wisp of stubble but looked soft nonetheless. She probably also needed toiletries. In my mind, I was filling closets and bathrooms, and I realized I had her moving in. I knew I was moving too fast, but the thought was very pleasant.

"I don't want to use again, you know." It came out of nowhere. I was a little surprised that she was thinking about it.

"What?" It was a place holder. I didn't have time to think, but I felt she wanted me to respond.

"I know I said it wrong. It just came out that way." She lifted her head up and looked at me. "I can remember forgetting, and it was nice. I don't want to do it again though." She was still tempted, and it brought fear that I felt in my stomach.

"Then move in here." It was the only thing I could think of. I had to keep her away from her old life. "I won't let you use again."

"You'd live with a junky?" She looked back to the ocean. I could almost feel her shame.

"You and all your sins are welcome. You'll just have to pile them on top of mine." I guess it was the right thing to say. She got up and cuddled into my lounger. She folded her hand around my neck and pulled me to her lips. They were soft and warm and tasted of dry pancakes. I prayed mine tasted like syrup. I hadn't showered or slept in over a day. She didn't seem concerned, so I let it drop from my mind and just enjoyed the sweetest lips in the world. It was much better than the waves. I knew at that exact moment that I loved her. The world would tell me it was too soon, insane, or just lust. For once in my life, I truly didn't care what the world thought.

"I assume that was a yes," I said, smiling like a five-year-old at Christmas.

"This is insane! We hardly even know each other." She was holding both sides of my head and looking into my eyes. "This could go so wrong."

"Letting you leave could only be worse." I pushed her hair back behind her ear. Even though they were still a bit bloodshot, I found her eyes very pretty. "Stay with me." I asked again.

"Yes." She kissed me again, then laid her head on my shoulder. "I really love it out here." We listened to the waves for a few minutes. But two unshowered people on the same lounger in the summer heat was a bit much. Mia stood up with a smile, grabbed my hand, and said, "Come swimming with me." Her energy was returning with her color. I let her pull me out of the chair, and we headed back to the pool.

"I don't think I have a suit for you." I said stupidly. She smirked at my ignorance.

"Then you can't wear one either." I had slowed down a bit. For some reason, I felt my naked body might be a disappointment to her. The sun was still bright in the sky. My fantasies with her had always involved darkness and sheets on a bed. She sensed my hesitation and turned to face me. She grabbed my other hand and gently pulled me while walking backwards herself. She was wearing a mischievous smile. When we reached the pool patio she let go of my hands and slowly dropped the robe to the stones below. I had seen her naked while crying, sweating, and freezing. I had seen her naked in pain I wouldn't wish on an enemy. I had never seen her naked with eyes that matched her heavenly smile.