Nursing Myself Back Page 3

  God, I don’t want to be my parents. I don’t want to have the relationship my parents had. Coexisting with a wife and cohabitating for the sake of functioning in life is no life at all. Liz wouldn’t have to want for anything. Liz wouldn’t just coexist with me. She would be the reason I exist. I’d worship her. I’d put her on a pedestal so high, even I’d have a hard time touching her. Fuck, but touch her I would. I find it increasingly difficult not to tent the front of my pants. Thinking about Liz even in the slightest does this to me.

  I notice the little things about her. Hell, I notice everything about her. The long lashes. The legs for days, her lean frame. I can’t reiterate enough how she keeps in great shape. Mmm, she has such alluring hair, I want to grab and inhale the fragrance. I want her silken tresses to rest against my body and dance across my naked skin. I dream about her eyes boring into mine as I see right into the deepest parts of her. And her generous heart I crave because that’s her true beauty. She’s the real deal. The total package. The gift that keeps on giving. Name a cliché at this point…she’s it!

  Shit, I’ll definitely need to rub one out here in a second if I keep on going. So, let me get back to addressing more things on that list of accomplishments so I can swim in safer waters and venture out of this sea of lust. Let’s see, I’ve got the career, the finances, the group of friends. Just need to add a woman to the list. I’m the last man standing. I can’t fucking believe it! Even Caylan’s brother, Brenneth—of all people—is involved. Brent, as we call him, is the one who everyone thought would never take the plunge. Yet, he’s engaged! He found Everly before he left for deployment, and the lucky bastard has her forever now.

  We had a grenade dropped on us in October when my buddy Gil announced his engagement. Interestingly, I knew well before everyone else in our circle of friends that he was a goner, but I’m still just as shocked by the news. I guess because, as I said, I’m the last! Up until last spring, I had Gil to go clubbing with and be my go-to friend for bro-time. But, then he turned in his player card for an exclusive one—Addison forever changed him. I never expected to see him like that. Hell, I never expected to see any of my friends like that.

  Seeing the guys in the condition they’re in reminds me of that animated deer movie I watched as a kid. It’s the one where all the male cartoon characters were “twitterpated” over the girls—yeah, I know, it’s even more evident that I’m also dubbed the damn sentimental one of the group. And as for Alexi and Anthony, they’ve been with their loves for a while. Alexi has Caylan, and Anthony has Shanna. Both women are stunning, and my boys are beyond in love with them—must be nice.

  So…Liz Carter…mmm. Liz ticks every mark on my hot list. She’s everything I’ve been looking for. I have no damn clue if she’ll ever want to get married again. Hell, that’s premature thinking. I have no idea if she’ll ever want a man again in general. I know I’ll have to tread carefully. I’m willing to, though, because she’s worth it.

  I’ll also have to tell Alexi of my intentions to pursue Liz. Christ, he’s very protective of her. She may act like his big sister—and he does a pretty good job of being her pain in the ass little brother—but he tends to go into big brother mode when need be. I’m sure I’d get his blessing once I explained everything. He knows I’d never hurt her. That’s not the kind of man I am. I want to give women the world. Well, I want to give the world to one woman in particular. It’s my duty as the sweet one.

  Don’t go thinking I’m sweet in every aspect. Because in the bedroom I come alive—you’d never, ever say I’m sweet when you’re in bed with me. I’m an animal. I’ll make it so you can’t walk for a week! I take the cougars, and I become a pussy-poacher, hunting down what I want with my scope. I tame them, claim them, and release them back into the wild. Yeah, you get the picture.

  With Liz, I wouldn’t be able to release her. It’s not about the catch. It’s not about the hunt, or the game, or whatever you want to call it. It’s so much more. Ever since I was a teen, I’ve had this deep need to find my unicorn in life. That probably sounds fucked up or cheesy, but I’ve always considered some women unattainable, hence unicorn status. I’d put Liz in that category as a unicorn, but I’m damn sure going to try to claim her and change the unobtainable part of the equation. It was hard for me to believe a mythical being, like Liz, even existed. But she’s real. I knew from the moment I met her that there was something about her.

  It’s going to kill me to be patient. I already feel like I’ve been waiting forever. But Liz was married at the time. Now that she’s a widow, I will need to give her some space, a shoulder to cry on, and unwavering support—be a friend. I will gladly be there for emotional and physical support for her and the kids. I need to get to know Liz as a friend first.

  I’ve gone back and forth contemplating my pursuit of her. I keep replaying the evening in my head, when I overheard a conversation between mother and daughter. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on Liz and Leah; I was locked in place when Liz’s voice drew me in from the other room—it’s natural that she calls to me.

  I had gotten up to use the restroom since we were outside on the patio, and Liz and Leah must have moved to the living room to talk. It was a very private and tender moment, which is why I feel like an asshole for listening in when they didn’t know I was there.

  ***

  “Baby, I just have to know if you’re okay. You’re my strong, beautiful girl, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Liz asks Leah.

  I rub at my chest hearing Liz’s voice catch in her throat here and there. God, what a tough woman and family they are to endure a situation like this. I can’t see the ladies talking in the next room; I can only hear them as I’m standing on the other side of the wall that separates the kitchen and living room.

  “I’m fine, Mom, really. It hurts, and you know I’ll love and miss Dad, but he’s not like the dads my friends have. You know I’ve told you before that I wish he moved out a long time ago. I mean, haven’t I been saying it since I was like nine? I gave up thinking he’d ever be a ‘real dad.’ I’m still sad, though, because I never wanted him to die,” she confesses.

  I hold my breath for fear of crying for this little girl. She’s so intelligent and insightful—well beyond her young age. I never knew how deep the neglect from Leah’s father ran, but somehow she understood it and recognized it, and maybe even accepted it—not even adults can come to terms with concepts of this nature. The amount of courage and strength the kids and Liz have shown whenever I’ve seen them is awe-inspiring. They’re always a happy and positive source to others. It was a shock to find out there were things going on behind closed doors.

  I hear sniffling, and I’m not sure who’s crying—I suspect it’s Leah. I haven’t seen Liz cry once today.

  “God, I’m so sorry, baby. If I could change it, I would. I never want you to be hurt or be sad. I’m sorry you were handed this. It’s not fair to you. I know your father loved you. He was just too sick with the disease to ever get better. I wish you could’ve known him in his younger days,” Liz explains.

  I roughly drag my hands up and down my face, trying to wipe away this night. I’m lucky I don’t remember my brother’s death—I never had to go through it with my parents. There are certain ways to handle grief and loss, and my mom was not one who dealt with it, as I’ve mentioned. Yet, here Liz and Leah are exhibiting the utmost display of grace and determination. I should walk away now…but I can’t. I swallow hard and pull at my tie that’s suddenly suffocating me.

  “Thanks Mom. I love you. I wish Dad would’ve been different, but it’s okay because we’ve always had you,” Leah says, sounding a little more upbeat.

  “Oh, baby, I hit the jackpot with you and your brothers. And you know I love you more than life itself,” she conveys, pausing a little to probably choose her words.

  I wish I could see her; however, I don’t want to make my presence known. I look heavenward and say my sorries for not walking away from their co
nversation.

  “The school’s going to provide some grief counseling for you guys. Again, you know you can always come to me or someone else. Caylan loves you to pieces. She’s also a good listener. Just don’t keep anything bottled up, baby,” Liz begs of her daughter.

  “I won’t. But I’m worried about you too. You don’t ever do anything for yourself. We try to tell you all the time you need to be happy and have a life,” Leah imparts.

  I hear Liz softly chuckle. “Sweetheart, I am happy. You and your brothers make me happy. Why on earth would you think I’m not?”

  If I was ever lucky enough to have a daughter, God, I’d want one like Leah. How does a thirteen-year-old girl know more about life than I do?

  “Mom, get real! We know you love us, and we know you’re happy as a mom, but you never doing anything outside of us. If I have to go to counseling, then you have to start doing stuff too!” Leah scolds her mother in the sweetest way.

  I hear Liz sigh as if in amazement, then she questions, “When did you skip ahead from being a kid to being an adult?”

  Leah lightly laughs and replies, “I have a good teacher.”

  “Oh, baby…,” Liz trails off.

  I imagine she’s embracing her daughter, and I finally force myself to leave my spot and rejoin the rest of the group outside. This conversation will stay with me for the rest of my life.

  ***

  Earlier tonight gutted me. As much as I still feel guilty for invading their privacy, I think as a man and human being I needed to hear it.

  Liz’s husband’s death wasn’t untimely, though—well, to the outside world it was because no one really knew what was going on. Sure, we all speculated, but I never knew to what extent the emotional and mental toll it must have taken on them. Learning recently about his alcoholism was a shock. I always thought he was detached from them by choice—he was in the sense that he chose to abandon them by drinking, but when Liz said disease it struck a chord. God, I was ignorant. I still hate the guy and most likely always will, of course, but my own family suffered from things that maybe others would be ignorant about too.

  It’s difficult to fathom the years of disappointments he delivered to Liz and the kids. They must have added up and ultimately made them realize a long time ago what he was.

  I’m still grappling with all this. I don’t have enough experience in dealing with families. Fuck, you know mine was the poster for dysfunctional! I run my hand through my hair. Revisiting the past is daunting, but introspection can be beneficial.

  I also don’t have experience with romantic relationships. I’ve mostly dated women for a few weeks at a time, and it was only because the sex was good. Again, I’m not an asshole. The women knew the score before we jumped in bed. It was a mutual thing. It was for fun and nothing more—another thing I appreciate about mature women.

  I stare at the painting on my wall. There’s nothing super spectacular about it, just an ordinary seascape. But the longer I stare, the longer I picture myself standing on the edge of the craggy cliff wanting to leap off the edge and swim out to greet the sunset over the water. Liz can be that sunset for me. She can be my sunrise too.

  My mind is made up. I’m going after Liz sooner rather than later. I will do the friend thing. I suspect I’d be friend-zoned right away anyway, and that’s fine. I’ll start working on her and worm my way in. I’ll work on her mind and body, all the while trying to attain my ultimate goal…her heart.

  I’m of the opinion that if you’re alone, then it’s perfectly normal and sane to talk to yourself; the caveat being that you don’t answer back.

  I say aloud to the painting, because otherwise it sounds fucking creepy, despite my logic a second ago, “Liz, I’m coming for you. Whether you’re ready or not, I’m coming. I’m not stopping. I’ll give ‘twitterpated’ a whole new meaning. I’ve got my scope set and you in my sights.”

  Yeah, I’m not right in the head tonight, but she drives me to it.

  Chapter 3: He Gets the Ex and the Axe

  Caleb

  “So, let me get this straight. You want my permission to date Liz?” Alexi laughs so hard that his mocking tone leaves me pissed.

  “Fuck you, man! No, come on, I’m not asking. As a courtesy, I’m telling you,” I reaffirm as I give him a hard scowl and shake my head at his behavior.

  Alexi continues chuckling and holds up his hands, placating me. I blow out an exasperated breath and shoot him the middle finger. After a few minutes, he finally collects himself enough to carry on an actual conversation with me.

  “In all seriousness, don’t fuck this up. You know what Liz means to me. I don’t want to lecture you on shit I probably have no business to, but I feel like Liz is family. I feel responsible for her somehow. She’s not just my trusted employee—she’s more. For Christ’s sake, I think we’re going to name her the godmother of the new baby. Brent and Meg are Em’s godparents, of course, but we were going to pick two different ones this time around,” he runs a hand through his hair and half-smiles.

  I knew Alexi isn’t the religious type, but I also knew he liked to do certain things the right way, for Caylan’s sake. She may not be a religious person either, but from what I’ve learned about her upbringing, her parents are the traditional sort.

  God, I’d love to be the baby’s godfather if I was lucky enough to be chosen. I keep that thought to myself, though, so as not to pressure my friend.

  “That’s awesome, man. She’ll make an incredible godmother. And I get why you are that way about her. I know you’re being protective, and I respect that. But—and there’s a big but—you needn’t worry,” I sigh, the wheels turning in my head as I contemplate how to convey things properly.

  I continue on, “I want to get to know her the right way. Yeah, my dick is screaming for attention from her, and here’s another but: but, it’s not like that. There’s just something about her I can’t move on from. I want to see what can grow between us. I know she’s an amazing woman and deserves to be treated as such.”

  Alexi nods in agreement, then I stare off into space and think of her gorgeous face. I close my eyes and savor the image I’m conjuring.

  After a few moments, I open my eyes, coming back to reality, and ask my friend, “Have you heard from her since last night?”

  He starts to lightly chuckle, and with his right hand he points his thumb, angling it toward the door to tell me, “The woman is crazy because she’s here today.”

  He can see I want to protest as my face transforms into a what the fuck? look.

  I cannot believe she’s here! But the mere mention of her being here—in such close proximity to me—already has my groin stirring to life.

  He holds up his hands to assure me, “I tried to talk her out of it, believe me. I told her to take time off. Hell, I even tried to plan a trip for her and the kids to get a break. Of course, in typical Liz-fashion, she refused. She said throwing herself into work is the best thing for her. While I’m inclined to disagree, I don’t want to push her either. She even baked me cookies. Damn they’re good! Except, I don’t need the extra calories since I’ve been skipping the gym lately. Plus, Caylan withholds sex when I bring shit like that home because she doesn’t want to gain too much weight with this pregnancy.”

  He swivels in his chair and looks at me contemplatively. “I get the feeling we’re having a boy because she’s so different this time around. Her belly is growing waaayyy faster than last time, and she has odd cravings. Anyway, back to Liz—I think she needs to return to her routine. I imagine William died a long time ago for her. So, my guess is she doesn’t need or want a break to grieve.”

  I shudder at the mention of his name. I fucking hate that name. I loathe and detest it. Why couldn’t Liz have met me first before that asswipe? Then I’m mentally kicking myself in the balls for being an idiot because I would have been a damn teenager when she got together with her ex. Of course, that would have been fine by me, but I’m sure that wouldn’t have flown with her
, understandably. She’s a noble woman and would not have been interested in my boyish self at the time anyway.

  I don’t want to keep calling her a widow. I don’t consider her a widow. In my mind, I consider them divorced. He’s her ex, end of discussion! He was a shit human being, and I can’t look at him differently regardless of the disease because he didn’t try to get better for the sake of his family, or for himself.

  My heart is constricted as I think about what Liz must be going through. Even if what Alexi says is true that he died a long time ago in her eyes, it still doesn’t diminish the fact that it must hurt her on some level. This is painful. I imagine she’s grieving for the loss of a relationship she never had. At least in my mind, that is what I’m piecing together. That astute and sensitive part of me can be quite in tune with women’s feelings at times. Various girlfriends—platonic in nature—have told me over the years that I’m an anomaly among guys; I can live with that distinction.

  It’s Friday at least, so I hope she takes the weekend to relax. Alexi’s practice isn’t open on the weekend, and he only goes to the hospital if there’s an emergency. Hopefully this means Liz will take the time to decompress. God, what I wouldn’t give to be able to make her feel good. I’m not talking about sex. I want to pamper her. I want to treasure her. I want to spoil her.

  I’d draw her a bath, massage her all over and relieve the tension, and I’d take away all her hurts and worries—if she’d let me. I rub at the beard scruff that inevitably grows after not shaving for a day, and I can’t help but ask myself, will she ever give me—give us—a chance?