Determinism (Cara & Abel's Story) (21 page)

I wake to my stomach rumbling; clearly it’s mad at me for skipping my lunch. I should’ve known better. Rolling over I look at the clock and it’s five thirty. Holy shit, I slept all day. I check my phone and there are no new messages.

Clutching the pillow tightly against my stomach, I know I need to eat. I pull back the covers and place my feet on the plush carpet. I get up noticing that I’m still dressed; I really was tired. Heading downstairs, I think of what to make. I decide to eat the pizza that I got for lunch. It sounds the best and will be easy to reheat.

I wonder when Abel will be here. I know he said he would try and get off early, so I hope that’s soon. With my pizza in hand, I make my way over to the sofa and plop down. I skip flipping through the channels and decide to look through the DVR for something entertaining to watch.

Last’s week’s
Dexter
should do the trick. The nap must have helped, because I don’t feel achy and I’m not as tired as I was earlier. The first bite of pizza is delicious; it sends my taste buds into overdrive. So I devour a few more slices and I’m officially full. Curling up on the couch, I get lost in the TV. That is until my stomach starts to turn and I make a run for the bathroom.

My stomach is pissed and immediately purges everything I just ate. It causes me to dry heave, although there’s nothing left, but my body doesn’t agree.

With my hands on the tile floor and my head resting on the seat, I just breathe. I hear Abel come in and close the front door. I can tell he is heading towards my room. Before I can speak to tell him that I’m in the bathroom downstairs, my stomach constricts, causing me to gag. There is nothing left for me to throw up, but it doesn’t matter, my body still taunts itself.

Gag after gag and nothing is coming up. All I want is for it to calm down. Abel presses his hand to my side and rubs tenderly. I lean into him and let out a big sigh. “I’m sorry you’re still sick, baby.”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

After a few moments of my stomach seeming to settle, Abel asks, “Do you want to go and lie down?”

I nod my head and he helps me up, guiding me to my feet and then lifting me in his arms, resting my head against his chest. I enjoy the moment of calmness; my stomach’s not angry and Abel’s here. He’ll get me through this. Once we are in my bedroom, he helps me to undress and get into bed.

Sitting next to me he rubs a hand over my face and then through my hair, all the while calming me with shushing noises. The last thing I feel before falling asleep are his lips against my temple and hear his words, “Sleep well, kitten.”

Watching Cara get sick kills me. Her breathing is calm and she is fast asleep. I don’t want to leave her, but I need to eat. Fuck, who am I kidding? I always need to eat. I carefully get up from her bed and walk towards the door. Looking back, I take one last glimpse before I pull the door shut as quietly as I can.

Walking downstairs, I see the plate and leftover pizza that must have made her sick. She only ate a few pieces so I’m sure she will be starving when she gets up. I look in the fridge and there’s not much in there that will be easy on her stomach. I always remember my mom telling me when I was sick to stick with the BRAT diet: bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast.

In my chicken scratch handwriting I leave a note on the counter.

Ran to store to grab some dinner and medicine for you. Call me if you wake up.

Hopefully she doesn’t wake. I leave, locking the front door with the key she gave me, and jog to my truck. I wish this damn vehicle weren’t so loud; I hope it doesn’t wake her. Pulling away, I speed to the store. I’m on a mission to take care of my kitten, as well as feed myself.

I really have become such a sap. As I park and hop out of my truck, I pull my hat down low and grab a cart. My phone rings and I notice it’s my battalion chief.
Damn it.

“This is Abel,” I answer in a sharp tone.

“Hey, Abel, it’s Tom. Do you have a quick moment?”

Tom is my boss and if he calls, you make time for him. I’m the youngest Chief in the district and have to make it a point to prove to him that my age doesn’t matter. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

I decide to save time and keep shopping while we talk. “I have some bad news. We lost a group of guys last night at one of our sister stations. It was a freak accident. They all went into a building, and for some reason, some asshole had a ton of propane tanks. Well, as you can imagine, they were unaware and once those suckers went off they were like bombs. Needless to say, no one came out of the building.

“We’ve been asked to send a group of guys over there. I can’t send a bunch of rookies without a leader. They are going to need a Chief and I know you’re the man for the job. You can take two guys from your station with you and there will be others from the area joining. They need you there by Tuesday; that’s when the current relief guys have to leave. Can you do it?”

This is my moment to prove I’m worthy of my post. As horrible as I feel leaving Cara, I’m sure she will feel better by then. “Yeah, Tom, I can do it. Let me call the station and I’ll let you know who is coming with me.”

“Thanks, Abel. I knew I could count on you.”

“No problem,” I say, hanging up.

I’ll have to handle calling the station later. Right now I have to get back to Cara. Looking in the cart, I don’t even know what I threw in there. So I make a mental note of the BRAT diet, as well as ginger ale and Tums. I think I have it all.

While I wait in line at the checkout, I text Troy.
What’s up dude? Did you or the guys at the station hear about what happened?

The clerk is some douchebag kid who is far too slow for my liking. I’m thankful when the manager calls me over to another lane and I hope can get me out of here quickly. Troy texts me back.
Yeah, we saw it on the news. It was insane. I feel bad for those guys and wish we could help.

I know it sucks. Funny you should mention help. Tom called and asked me to assemble a team to head over there and help out at their station. I don’t know all of the details, but would you be down to join?

Yeah, man, count me in.

Cool, do you want to ask the guys at the station and see who else wants to join?

You got it. I’ll call you later.

The cashier checks me out in a breeze. The douche on the other lane is still lost. I just have to chuckle as I watch him struggle looking for the bar code on a box of cereal. What an imbecile. I’m thankful to be on my way out of here. I load up the groceries and drive off in the direction of my girl. I really hope that she’s still asleep; Cara needs to rest in order to feel better. My mind envisions her vomiting and it makes me ill.

Pulling in her driveway, I kill the truck as soon as it’s in park. The groceries are light and I grab them all in one trip entering the house as quietly as possible. She’s not in the living room as I set the bags down. My note is in the same spot as I left it, so I’m sure she’s still asleep.

I unload the groceries and once everything is away, I make myself a sandwich and grab a bag of chips heading to the couch, but before I can eat, I need to check on her. I slip off my shoes and walk upstairs to keep quiet. I push her door open softly, and she is just as I left her — quiet, comfy, and peaceful. She really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. My dick starts to stir thinking of her naked below the covers, so I close the door and wipe the shit-eating grin off of my face. I’m one lucky bastard. Flipping through the channels, I stop on ESPN to watch the latest news on the upcoming NFL season.

Damn, this sandwich tastes delicious. Tearing open the bag of chips, I notice I forgot a drink so I head back to the fridge and grab a beer. My kitten knows how to keep this thing stocked with alcohol and that’s one of the things I love about her.

I really need to grow a pair of balls and figure out how to tell her how deep I’m in this. I’m just scared that she doesn’t feel the same. I should call my dad and ask him for some advice. I know my brother has been through it, but he blurted out the words in the middle of a fight with Alexa. He doesn’t regret them at all, but that’s not the point. For me, I want to do it in a different way. My kitten deserves a special memory when I tell them to her.

I can’t believe I’m even considering telling her. If you were to have asked me six months ago what my opinion was of love, I would have told you to piss off and that I don’t have time for it. I hear the door open upstairs and standing on the landing looking as stunning as ever is Cara. She takes my breath away, wrapped in her comforter, hair a mess, and cheeks flushed.

She comes down the stairs and I sit back patting my chest with open arms. She crawls in my lap and rests her head on me. “Hey, baby. Are you feeling any better?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know, maybe a little.”

Pushing the hair out of her face, she looks at me with an exhausted expression. “I ran to the store and grabbed a few things my mom used to give me when I was sick with the flu.”

She nods her head and says, “You didn’t need to do that. I can just have some toast.”

“Yes, you can, so I bought you some whole wheat bread. What do you say, do you want to try a piece?”

“Please.”

Her voice is raspy and I’m hoping that the toast and some ginger ale will do the trick. As I get up and leave her on the couch, I look back — she’s lying with her eyes closed. I don’t care what she says, I’m not buying that she’s feeling better.

I pop the toast in the toaster and pour her a small glass of ginger ale. I only toast the bread lightly, because I’m going to give it to her dry, unsure if her stomach can handle butter. Walking back over, I hand her the drink and she looks at the light tan liquid questioningly. “It’s just ginger ale, babe. Take a sip.”

“Thank you,” she says, listening to me and then exchanging her drink for the plate of toast.

“Take small bites, okay?”

She nods her head and I flip through the channels landing on a new episode of
The Deadliest Catch
. We’ve been up to date on all of the episodes this season so I know she’ll enjoy watching it with me.

I watch her slowly nibble the toast; finally she sets the empty plate on the table and trades it for another small sip of ginger ale. While we both sit in silence and enjoy some quiet time together, I’m thankful that she is feeling better. That is until she bolts up and runs to the bathroom, leaving only the comforter behind. Once she is out of sight I hear her throwing up.

Fuck.

I run in after her. She’s kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet dry heaving. Her naked body looks so frail. I rub her back and grab her hair for her. She drops her arm as if her body doesn’t have an ounce of energy left inside. As much as I wish it was me who was sick, it’s not. I try and think back to what she has eaten over the last few days that would have made her this ill and I come up empty handed. I bet she got this from work, always dealing with so many sick and dirty people.

Finally the heaving stops and she hangs her head lethargically. I can’t watch her sit here anymore. Scooping her up in my arms comforts me and I hope she feels the same. I carry her upstairs and lay her gently down in bed. I lie down next to her and do what I can to calm her, stroking my fingers delicately over her back, making small gentle circles until she falls asleep. I’m not far behind her. Her tiny breaths and warm body relax me.

I wake up and glance at the clock, it’s eleven in the morning. The sun is bright and illuminating Cara’s white room. I look down at my kitten; she is tucked in a tiny ball against me. Naked and pure. I’m pleased that we both slept through the night. Leaving a tiny kiss on the top of her hair I slither out of bed. I need to handle calling the station. I’m sure Tom’s wondering why I haven’t contacted him.

Before I leave the room, I grab a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer I now keep things in and swipe my phone out of my jeans pocket from the floor. Quietly I leave and head downstairs. I start to brew a pot of coffee and text Troy. My phone rings and I answer it. “What’s up, dude?”