The hours pass with the speed of lightening bolts; it seems like I just took the grand tour as he watched in amusement. He keeps careful watch at the time, knowing exactly when I'm supposed to take my medication, reminding me when I'd rather forget. It is just past midnight and I can barely keep my eyes open. "Well," I yawn, "I think I should get home."
"Why? It's still early."
"Some of us have to get up in the morning and prepare for court."
"You're not goin' to court for another week."
"Which gives me only one week to finish preparing."
I don't want to leave here, not tonight, not ever. I want to stay, inside these walls where my heart is beating with a vivaciousness that has been missing for quite some time. This night has turned into so much more than I'd ever dreamed it would be. I assumed we would have lunch, that's all, but somehow he charmed me into taking the rest of the afternoon off. And at the midnight hour, I am still with him, enjoying our time together.
Today has been a great day, healthwise. Up until now, I really haven't fought for my body; I've had nothing to fight for. But, with someone fighting with me, in a good way, I can't wait to see what the next days will bring.
He tilts his head and studies my face; he searches for the truths I will not share with him. He's assessing my health, my mood, my life and I know he can read my whole story with the eyes of an expert. That's how well he knows me, even though I did everything I could to keep my real self hidden from him.
"You still feelin' okay?"
"Yeah, today has been a really good day."
"So then you'll stay here 'cause you feel good and I'm good for you-"
I give him a smile, wanting so badly to touch him, just for a moment; let the electricity that our bodies generate course through my entire body. It sounds so corny, but I feel so alive when we're together; it's like God fills my heart with overwhelming sensations with something as basic as his finger rubbing against mine.
He hops up quickly, smoothing the wrinkles in his slacks. Well, I shouldn't say smoothing the wrinkles; lord knows he doesn't care about his appearance. The more I think of it, the more I think it's a nervous gesture. The smile fades from my face because I know something more is going on, something he hasn't told me.
My first thought is that something is wrong with Starr. Then, I think about his new child; something must be wrong with him. Then again, if it were either of those things, he wouldn't be here with me, would he? No, he'd be with them, devoting his time and energy to them; I would be relegated to a distant acquaintance. I want to ask him what's wrong, tell him to confide in me, but I'm finished with trying to push him. I can't keep probing and asking the same questions; it gets us nowhere but angry at each other and that's the last thing I need.
"You ready to go?" he asks.
"Um, I guess," I reply, accepting his hand as he helps me up. There is an awkward moment between us, when I think he's going to kiss me and I want him to, but we both pull back and pretend like the moment was just a figment of our joint imagination.
*****
He does not accept my offer when I ask if he wants to stay. I'm not sure why, but my ego is slightly bruised from his rejection. I have to force myself to remember, he did not reject me, but my offer, though I cannot imagine why.
My thoughts are all over the place with no beginning and no ending. I try not to dwell on the rejection as I crawl into my bed. I try to focus on the good things that have come from today; we have some sort of relationship, eve n if I'm not exactly sure where our paths will lead, it is a beginning.
My head falls against the pillow, sinking into fluffy softness, letting it surround me. I lift the comforter high around my neck, wrapping myself in its cool warmth. I sigh, smiling to myself, thinking that I've been given another chance.
*****
In the morning, I stretch my arms high above my head and my legs reach out, nearly to the bottom of the bed. And there is where they stay for the rest of the morning hours. I am stuck, just like this, with the exception of my arms which have returned to my sides.
I almost want to call out to Rachel, but there's nothing she can do. It's just a phase; my body will do these random things for the rest of my life. I have to let it pass; Dr. Morgan has told me I cannot panic when these things happen because eventually, they will go away.
I am able to turn my body and reach for the phone. I use the speed dial to call into my office and inform Jazz that I'm going to be late again. It's almost as if she is connected to my body and already knows today is not one of my better days. She tells me to close my eyes and concentrate on visualization. I ask her what I'm supposed to visualize and she tells me to imagine myself rolling out of bed, onto my feet, stretching and dancing about. Then, she hangs up the phone.
I close my eyes tight, letting the stress in all my limbs travel from my center; closing my eyes until it feels as they they're going to come right out through my ears. I focus on my toes, wiggling them, stretching them. Then, my thoughts move to my ankles, rotating them, hearing the "creeking" from years of ballet. Every part of my lower body gets some of my mental concentration, until I see myself rolling out of the bed and touching my toes onto the rug. I focus on those things until I can feel myself actually doing it, moving and walking around.
I am amazed that this actually worked! In less than an hour, I am moving around as if nothing even happened. I emerge from my room, both relieved and happy, and as I look around, I realize Rachel has left for the day. It's just as well, I think to myself.
There are many things I need to do today. I have a notepad, on which, I write all of my tasks. Today, I am supposed to write the opening arguments for my case. For some reason, I don't feel like doing it; I feel like playing hooky and spending the day in the park. As a compromise, I decide to go to work, but leave at a decent hour.
*****
I get the feeling that someone is watching me. On my way to the office, I stop several times and look around. I have chills running up and down my spine; the hairs on my arms are standing straight up. I shake it off, seeing nothing behind me; attributing it to Todd's paranoia rubbing off on me.
When I arrive, Jazz is filing away, listening to her music and singing alone. I do not make my presence known; I listen to the sounds of her melodic voice dancing through the air. I never knew she had such a beautiful voice; she's turning out to be a very different person than her exterior would lead one to believe.
Without turning around she says, "Miss Delgado, I guess you took my advice."
She has eyes in the back of her head, I'm convinced of it. "Yes, I did. Thank you."
"You're welcome." She still doesn't turn around, "I'm smarter than I look."
"You certainly are."
She turns toward me, letting her eyes roam over me. "You didn't get much sleep last night."
Here I am, thinking I was concealing my lack of sleep; guess I was wrong. "Guess you're right."
"That's okay, it's not really noticeable." She sits back behind her desk, reaching for a stack of messages and holding them out for me. "Your boyfriend called a few times. I didn't tell him anything was wrong, I just told him you'd be in later."
"Thanks, but he's not my-"
"Not yet anyway. Want some advice?"
"Sure, I'll bite."
"Take your time with him; there's a lot going on behind those eyes. He loves you though, I can tell you that much."
"How do you know?"
"The way he looks at you. Miss Delgado, you've gotta open up and let him in. And on that note, I've gotta run to the office supply store; I'm out of sticky notes."
"And we know how you are about those."
"We sure do. Bye."
Before I can say anything else, she is out the door and at the elevator. Our dynamic has changed so much since she found out I was sick; she's much more open and certainly more talkative. Whenever she and I finish talking, I always feel so refreshed, like I can take on anyone or anything and win.
My office is a little warm for this time of year, but I don't mind it so much. Something I can't quite describe happens to me when it's warm outside; I have so much energy and I'm happy. I almost become slippery; everything that tries to touch me slides right off because I'm so happy.
I don't even settle myself before returning Todd's call. I drop my things on the desk and dial his number. When he answers, I can't hide my enthusiasm. "Hey."
"An excited Delgado. Should I be afraid?"
That's what I like to hear, him joking. "It's a nice day; I'm entitled."
"You're entitled to a lot more than that."
His comment takes me aback and I sort of do a take. Unlike anyone else, Todd has the ability to surprise me and I love that. Every now and then, he sneaks out a comment that, when I'm in doubt about it, makes me realize how much he really does love me. "Was that a compliment from Todd Manning?"
"It might've been."
I can hear him smiling even from here. It's a nice sound, Todd's smile; it's the sound of a cool breeze on the hottest day of an Indian summer. It's a welcome relief; sexually arousing without his knowledge. "So, what's up?" I ask, shaking the naughty thoughts from my mind.
"Nothin'."
"Nothing?"
"Nope, I just wanted to see what you were doin'."
By the sound of his voice, I know there's something going on, but he doesn't know how to tell me. Todd cannot be probed; I've had to learn that the hard way. He will tell me in his time, but I can't help but worry about him. I feel him reaching out to me, but I cannot help unless he opens up to me. "I'm just working."
"Yeah? How's that goin'?"
"It's going," I sigh. "We hit a snag, but, you know, these things happen."
"What kind of snag?" His voice is filled with concern, concern which is nearing panic.
"Oh, just a switch in opposing counsel, that's all."
"That guy, Jared, is he the guy you knew in Llanview?"
"And before that."
"What do you mean?"
"I've known Jared a long time and I don't have one good thing to say about him; he's nothing but a criminal."
"Sounds like me," he jokes.
"Believe me, you're an angel compared to him." A cool breeze whooshes through my office, coming out of nowhere. I look around, thinking maybe I'm not alone anymore, but the feeling passes just as quickly as it appeared. "He's the devil dressed in Armani and that's what scares me more than anything."
