I am a human pin cushion. I have been poked, prodded and observed too much; I am tired. I am a woman of routines and my workday has been interrupted. No, it hasn't just been interrupted, it's been ruined.
Dr. Morgan said she would be in touch with me in a few days with the results of my tests. I've never not been a healthy person. I'm one of the few people I know who enjoys working out. I've never been sick, nothing more than a flu bug or cold has ever affected my system. This is something entirely new to me and I'm not sure how I should cope with it.
The couch looks so inviting, but there's work to be done. I glance over at my desk, this massive black piece of furniture unobtrusively residing in the corner. There is work to be done. My heavy computer bag slips off my shoulder, followed by the heavy files I'd been carrying.
"Shit," I mutter, gathering my things.
I so don't want to be alone, nor do I want to be alone and working, but working, combined with aloneness is a sad fact of my life. I haven't eaten today, not that I remember, come to think of it, I'm really not hungry.
The files I'd brought with me are resting on the table. My computer is plugged in and booting up. I put rub my eyes and prepare myself for another all-nighter.
*****
My phone, both home and cell have been ringing non-stop for the past several hours. This is a pathetic admission, one of many, but I rarely receive phone calls. I know it was one of three people, Carlotta, Rachel or Todd, none of whom I wanted to speak with.
I don't know where the time went, but suddenly it's three o'clock in the morning and I'm still at it. I have long since traded in my contacts for my glasses, my suit for comfortable pajamas and my hair is now clipped to the top of my head.
The red light on my answering machine is annoying the hell out of me. Before I could press the button, my phone started ringing again. This is getting downright ridiculous.
"Hello," I answer with the most annoyed tone I can muster.
"Where the hell have you been?"
That gruff voice was unmistakable. "Hello to you too, Todd."
"Answer the question."
Now, he is getting on my nerves. He never cared where I was when he had me. Really, this jealousy game is getting very old, correction, it is very old. "Todd, what I do and who I do it with is none of your business."
I hear his loud sigh; he is struggling to come back with something sarcastic and witty. I tap my fingers while I waited for his response; my retort is already on the tip of my tongue. Seconds pass as I wait, but he says nothing.
"Todd?"
"Yeah, what'd the doctor say?"
"Nothing yet." I change the subject, unwilling to go there with him, or anyone else for that matter. "Where's your wife?"
"In bed where I left her."
He shot a poison dagger at me; it stings like nothing I've ever felt. "I'm tired-"
"It hurts doesn't it, Delgado?"
"What's that?"
"Me and Blair-"
"Did you call to rub your happy, happy family in my face?"
"You brought her up, not me."
I hate it when someone makes a good point. It dawns on me that he just wants to hear my voice. When we were together, when we left Llanview that last time, I would talk until the early morning hours. I feel guilty for doing all the talking until he said:
"You know how they say music calms the savage beast? Well, your voice, it's like music."
He probably can't sleep and my stupid heart won't let me turn my back on him. "Where are you?"
"Home."
"No, I mean which room are you in?"
"I don't know; I think Dorian called it the parlor or something."
I chuckle to myself because I could almost see the expression on his face. He had his mouth turned into that of distasteful expression with his tongue hanging out and eyes rolled toward the sky. "Lay on the couch."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Work with me for once, will you?"
"Okay, fine," he pouts.
He is moving around, getting himself as comfortable as he could, on what he undoubtedly referred as that "ancient, overpriced crap." I wait a couple seconds until he gets himself settled. "Are you ready?" I ask, feeling more like some sort of dominatrix than an ex-wife, or lover, or whatever it is I'm calling myself these days.
"Yeah."
"Close your eyes."
"Okay, fine, they're closed."
"Good, now I want you to think about a happy time in your life." As I talk him through this exercise, I follow along with him. I give my mind the chance to wander back to a time when I was happier than I'd ever been.
This is pathetic, but I'm having a hard time following along with him. The happiest times in my life are all things I'd rather forget, well, maybe not forget, but rather not think about. Not when I can't have the one thing that makes me happy. All but maybe two or three involve times I've spent with him and in the big picture, those other moments mean absolutely nothing to me.
"Are you thinking about it?" I asked.
"Yeah."
I have managed to conjure up day of happiness; we were in this bed and breakfast he abhorred. It was in Savannah, Georgia, early spring, warm and sunny; so perfect and beautiful and appropriate for where we were in our relationship. I remember how he fought with me because he didn't want to go some "inbreeding hick town." I got my way though, and we ended up at the loveliest little bed and breakfast.
This place was out of my dreams, with the large, white pillars and bleached white front. One of the things I'd dreamed of having, ever since I was a small child, was a porch swing. And this place had one, white and handmade, ever so slightly blowing in the gentle breeze.
Todd complained when we pulled into the circular drive. He complained when we checked in. He complained about our room saying, "Delgado, it looks like Martha Stewart puked in here."
"It's lovely Todd; it's so-"
"Perky and you know I don't do perky."
"Aw, poor baby." I caressed his face and said, "I love you for indulging me."
"Yeah, well, I live to please you." He said it with a sarcastic edge, but I knew there was some truth to his statement.
We unpacked, or I should say, I unpacked. All that day he watched me, not like he was afraid of me leaving, but like he was enthralled. I knew something big was going to happen that day; it was only a question of what.
We ate dinner at this quiet little place in the middle of town. I recall only three other couples, all of whom seemed deeply in love. It was only Todd and me whose emotional and physical distance was palpable.
He was in a good mood, for Todd anyway, especially after gobbling some good, old-fashioned southern food. We walked back to the inn, not saying much, but there was plenty of electricity flowing between us.
I started to enter the lobby, but he grabbed my arm, preventing me from going any further.
"Just hold on a minute." He tentatively reached for my hand and led me to the porch swing. He held it steady while I sat down, then he sat on the opposite side.
There was something on his mind, but he was struggling internally. He propelled us back and forth, while saying nothing and looking out into the darkness. He inched closer to me and I inched toward him, both of us attempted to hide our movements. Then, our bodies touched.
My body shuddered at the contact; we both shuddered with almost a desperate need to feel loved. Like desert wanderers frothing at the mouth for just a sip of water, we were lovers, dying for sexual nourishment that only the other could sate. His hand wrapped around mine, and rested on his lap. I took a chance and leaned my head against his shoulder; this is exactly what I imagined a perfect night with my love to be.
There was no one there but us, so he felt comfortable showing the slightest bit of affection. "This isn't so bad," Todd said, stroking my hand with his thumb.
"It's nice," I agreed.
We were silent again; time took forever to pass. He suddenly spoke again, this time, his voice was incredibly said. "What if I disappoint you?"
I inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of his masculine scent. It bothered, yet amazed me that he hadn't yet realized how much I loved him and the only way he could truly disappoint me was to give up. "You won't."
"I disappoint everybody."
I shook my head, "No, no you don't Todd. I love you, trust that."
"What if I hurt you? God-"
I lifted my head and turned to look at him. He was still staring into space, so I gently turned his face toward me. "I'm scared of hurting you too, you know." He shook his head in disagreement. "Yes, I am. It's a risk, for both of us, but I'm ready for it. Let's just go with it."
I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow, we made our way to our room. Our hands were all over each other, in both a passionate and tentative way. We were scared teenagers, aching for each other with the kind of desire one only dreams about.
He undressed me first with his eyes, then with his shaking fingers. I could cry from the tenderness with which he loved me. I am his most precious possession and he treated me as such.
What can I say? The man's lips made love to every part of my body before he even allowed himself to enter me. First, he kissed my neck, letting his hot breath trace patterns on my skin. Oh, how I love him.
While he alternately kissed and licked my breasts, his fingers rubbed against the most sensitive part of me. As he moved further down my body, my legs widened. Then I felt it, his tongue licking and sucking me. I moaned loudly and without inhibitions.
I wanted to please him, but he wouldn't let me. "Another time," he whispered. "This is for you, your night."
He entered me, taking his time between thrusts. I was almost out of my mind for him. Over and over he repeated my name, "Tea, Tea," he whispered, loving me as much as I was loving him.
I said one word, "Todd," as I had the most intense orgasm of my life.
"Are you in that happy place?" I ask, slightly out of my breath from my vivid memory.
"Yeah."
"I want you to stay there. What do you see?"
"This is stupid, Tea."
"What the hell are you doing talking to that bitch, huh Todd?"
That was the unmistakable voice of Blair. The other unmistakable sound was the buzzing, indicating our call had ended.
