Knotted Roots (21 page)

I
felt terrible all over again.  I had looked at this man with disgust when I
first saw him.  And yet here he was, saving my grandma’s life, oblivious to the
horrible thoughts I had had that day.  I had misjudged him horribly and as
such, I could barely look him in the eye; instead I searched the top of his
desk, my eyes coming to rest on a beautiful silver picture frame.  A beautiful
couple, clad in dirty coveralls, smiled brightly at the camera.  It was a
beautiful picture, the happiness and love they felt was real, you could almost
feel it just by gazing upon their smiling faces.  They were the epitome of
happy simply because they had each other.

“There’s
no easy way to say this...” I tried to listen, but each word he spoke
threatened to pull me under again.  He kept telling me about possible
treatments, which I knew Grandma would say no to, and quality of life.  Quality
of life? How could he expect any quality of life when she was dying?  My head
snapped up at his words.

“Quality
of life? Really? What, are you going to give her a bunch of pain meds and let
her rot in that room?  Are we going to watch her waste away? I don’t
understand! Why won’t she do the treatment?” I wanted to scream again, but I
registered the feel of Chase’s hand resting on my knee and I snapped back to
reality.

“Your
grandmother does not want to be miserable, and chemotherapy and radiation would
make her very ill.  The side effects are not worth it to some people, and
that’s their personal choice.  I can’t say that I agree with her decision, but
ultimately she’s the only one who gets to make it.  I will be there for her,
every step of the way, keeping her in as little pain as possible.  But you have
to understand.  She doesn’t want pity.  She wants your love.” His words were
filled with warmth and kindness, but at that moment I wanted to maul him.  I
wanted to make him suffer the way I was suffering. The way Grandma was
suffering.  To try and make someone feel the same aching rawness that trembled
inside of me with every breath I took.  But even as the thought fluttered
through my mind I immediately rejected it, knowing that there was no way that I
could either cause someone so much pain or that it would ultimately do any
good.  Yeah, I might feel better for a second, but it wasn’t going to change
what was happening now.

“I
need to talk to her.  I can convince her to do the treatment. I know I can,” I
stood up, determined to fix this.  “I have to do this.”

“Roxie,
wait,” Chase stood up and taking my hand, pulled me to a stop.  “I know it’s
hard to accept, but this is her decision.  You can’t take this away from her.”

I
snatched my hand away from him and glared up into his mesmerizing eyes, eyes
that glimmered with unshed tears.  “You’re wrong.  I’m not taking anything
away. I’m helping her.”

I
left the office and strode up the hallway to her room.  I found her room and
knocked lightly on the door.  When there was no answer I decided to go ahead
and enter, pushing the door open slowly.  I walked in and found her asleep in
the bed.  She looked so frail as she laid there, barely covered by the thin
hospital blanket that was draped over her.  She was barely recognizable as the
woman I called Grandma.

I
walked over to the bed and gazed down at her still form.  Her chest rose
slowly, silently assuring me that she was still breathing.  I pulled up a chair
and sat down beside the bed.  I gently lifted her hand and held it as I sat
there, until I heard the door open once again.  I looked up to find Chase and
Dr. Livingston standing there, both of their faces drawn and tight. 

“You
have to do something.  I can’t lose her,” I whispered to them, my desperation
eating away at my strength.  “Please.”

Dr.
Livingston walked over and put his hand on my shoulder.  His touch was warm and
soothing, easing a small part of my fear, but not enough to completely appease
me.  “I promise you, we will do everything we can to help her.  But we can’t go
against her wishes; no matter what any of us may think is right.”

“She’s
had a long life,” said Chase as he walked over to the other side of the bed,
gazing down at the woman he loved like his own grandmother.

“She
has made a very large impact on our community,” said Dr. Livingston.  “I
remember visiting Betty and Angela at the farm when I was growing up.  They
were both so welcoming and kind, never turning me away when I needed a friendly
smile.  I honestly believe that if it hadn’t been for them, I wouldn’t have
made it through my own childhood.”

I
listened as Dr. Livingston and Chase sang Grandma’s praises, both of them
expressing deep gratitude and love for this exceptional woman.  It was hard to
deal with when I thought about how many lives she had affected.  A small part
of me wanted to hold a grudge because of her absence in my life, but how could
I now?  How could I be angry at a dying woman?

It
hit me like a ton of bricks as realization slammed into me.  This was why no
one wanted to tell me about the cancer.  Grandma wanted me to love her, and
respect her, for who she was, not because she was would be leaving this world
soon.  She wanted to gain my love and earn my trust because I was willing to
give it, not because I was coerced or suffering from some misplaced sense of
guilt.  It made me think of how terrible I had been to her the whole summer.  I
had made it a point to upset her on multiple occasions, persistent in my
mission to make her miserable. 

How
could I have been so utterly cold and uncaring?  I’m not a terrible person, but
I had shown everyone here that they had good reason to believe me to be one.  I
had been acting like a spoiled brat throwing a monumental hissy fit.  I was the
epitome of obnoxious, and this woman had done nothing but support me, push me,
and love me.  I had to figure out a way to make it up to her somehow.  At this
point I had no idea what I could do, but I knew that I had no choice but to
figure it out.  Before our time together ran out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The
drive home from the hospital was filled with mindless chatter, with Chase and I
both uncomfortable broaching the topic of what would happen next.  I had a
mission of my own that I would deal with, but I knew that her condition was
worrying him as well.  I had to stop thinking of myself for five minutes and be
there for him as well.  When we pulled into the yard, Chase cut the lights off
on his truck and left the vehicle idling. 

“I’ll
come by tomorrow and we can head back up to the hospital,” he said as he rubbed
his thumb across the back of my hand.  “If you want, that is.”

“You
could always stay,” I replied quietly.  “I mean, what’s the point of leaving
if...if you’re coming back in the morning?”

He
looked at me intently, studying my face as he kept a silent rhythm on my hand. 
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea Roxie.  Betty would kill me.”  He let out a
nervous laugh, his breathing becoming shaky.

“I
think she would understand,” I said as I reached over and turned off the
truck.  As I leaned back my hand grazed his thigh, causing a sharp intake of
breath from both of us.  I looked at him and found his eyes devouring me
hungrily. 

“I
don’t think...I can’t stay away from you Roxie,” he replied, his voice
strained.

“Then
don’t,” I replied as I leaned towards him.  I placed my hand on his arm and
pulled him closer to me.  I lightly kissed him on his cheek, the stubble on his
face gently abrading my lips.  His smell intoxicated me, drawing me closer to
him.  Before I knew what was happening, he had his hand at the back of my neck,
guiding my mouth to his. 

When
our lips met I thought my body would combust right there in the cab of his
truck.  A strange tingling sensation shot from my lips all the way to my toes,
causing them to curl.  It felt like he was lighting my entire body on fire. 
Our mouths meshed together, our lips parting slightly only to draw in a
breath.  When his tongue slipped between my lips I felt lightheaded, like there
was suddenly no oxygen in the small space.  The feel of him against my mouth
caused a ball of heat to gather in my stomach, the burn letting me know I was
truly alive.

When
we finally broke apart we both struggled to draw breath.  I didn’t dare pull
too far away for fear of never feeling that way again.  I had been kissed a few
times in my life, but nothing compared to what Chase made me feel.  My lips
felt swollen from our passionate kisses, the feeling both unnerved and
intoxicated me.  I closed my eyes as his hand reached up and cupped my cheek,
his thumb wiping away a lone tear slipped down, unheeded.

“Please
don’t cry,” he whispered, his lips mere inches from mine.  His lips lowered
gently to mine again and I gasped, the sensations sending my body into
overload.  He gently ran his fingers through my curls, his touch sending
shivers through my body.  My body craved more from him, my fingers exploring
his body as we kiss. 

“Chase,”
I moaned, releasing him from the kiss.  I sat back and took a deep breath as
our eyes locked together.  His chest was rising and falling quickly, his body
reacting in a similar fashion as mine.  “Wow.”

“That’s
the best compliment I’ve ever been given,” he said with a charming grin plastered
on his face. 

A
giggle escaped my swollen lips as I smoothed my hair down from where his
fingers had tangled during our embrace.  “Are you staying?” I bit my lip as I
asked.  I was both excited and nervous as I waited for his answer.  I wanted
him there with me, close by in case I needed him, or he needed me. 

“Are
you sure this is a good idea?” he asked from under hooded eyes.

“I
have never been surer of anything in my life,” I replied.

“Remember
that answer when Betty is threatening to cut my...ahem jewels off.”

I
laughed loudly, and then leaned over to give him a quick peck on the lips.  He
groaned against my mouth and I nearly came undone right there.  There was
something so sensual about him.  No other guy had ever made a groan sound as
inviting and enticing as he did.  I pulled away quickly, stopping both of us
from getting caught up in each other again.  I opened the passenger door and
slid out of the cab, smiling back at him as he hurried to keep up with me.

* * * *

I
closed my bedroom door behind him, the sound echoing in my ears.  My nerves
took the opportunity to flare up, causing my palms to sweat as I watched him
walk around my bedroom.  His eyes caressed every surface as his fingers trailed
over the few trinkets I had sprinkled around the room.  Even after being here
for two months I didn’t feel as if it was really my room.  He picked up a
framed picture on the desk and studied the picture of me and my parents. 

“Do
you miss them?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“Some
days more than others,” I replied with a chuckle. 

He
glanced over his shoulder, a sad smile on his lips.  He stared at the photo for
a few more moments before replacing it on my desk.  I sat down on my bed, my
back ramrod straight, as I tried to wipe the sweat on my pants.  I had never
felt this nervous with him before.  Evidently being in my bedroom, alone, with
no one home, had made my conscience decide to come out and torture me.

He
walked over and sat beside me, his fingers immediately seeking mine out.  “I
think it would be a good idea if I slept on the floor.” He smiled at me, but
there was still a hint of sadness in his smile.  I leaned my head on his
shoulder and inhaled his scent, causing my head to spin again.

“I
think Grandma would appreciate that if she were here.”  He kissed my forehead
and removed his hand from mine.  I felt the loss of his warmth and comfort, my
brain finally able to fully function again.  “I’ll get you some pillows.”

I
moved to stand but his hand caught my arm.  He pulled me down gently, my feet tangling
with his, causing me to stumble.  I landed in his lap, my hands finding their
place on his chest.  I could feel his shallow breaths as I tried to right
myself.  Instead of allowing me to pull away, he drew me closer instead. 

Our
lips connected, the heat surging through my mouth.  I gasped against his soft
lips as his hands traveled slowly to my waist.  His fingers skimmed the exposed
skin between my shirt and my jeans.  The rough pads of his palms felt foreign,
but not unpleasant.  My mind began to wonder what they would feel like in other
areas.  Areas that no other guy had ever been privy to. 

I
pulled my lips from his and kissed his cheek, then moved to his neck, my teeth
nipping lightly at his skin.  He let out a contented sigh as I explored his
neck with my mouth, his hands slowly cruising over my skin, making their way
higher and higher, until they found the underside of my bra.  His fingers
grazed the undersides of my breasts and I immediately tensed and pulled away.

“I’m
sorry. Too far, got it,” he said in a breathless whisper.

I
wanted to tell him how good it felt, how right it was, but I just wasn’t ready
for that next step.  I was still a virgin and I knew that if I felt his hands
caressing one of my most sensitive spots, I would be giving up my V-card
moments later.  I promised my parents years ago that I would remain a virgin
until marriage, and as unlikely as that seemed now, I had to at least try. 

“I’m
sorry Chase.  It’s just-”

“No,
you don’t have to explain it to me,” he said with a smile.  “Just promise me
something.  No matter what happens, I want you to know that you can always say
stop.  I would never push you to do something you’re not ready for.  I’m not
that kind of guy.”

“I
know that,” I whispered before I kissed him again, my arms wrapping around his
neck.  Our tongues danced lightly, the fervor from before subsiding, replaced
with something more.  It was languid, careful, and infinitely tenderer than
anything I had experienced so far and yet the passion still pulsed under the
surface.  When we broke away from each other we were both smiling from ear to
ear.