Restore Me (10 page)

Damon disappears into the closet as I head
towards the bathroom. I need a shower and a good night of sleep.
I’m emotionally exhausted from today’s events. I strip my clothes
off and step into the shower. The warm spray soothes my tense
muscles. My head hangs and my shoulders slump. I miss him. My Damon
would be in here with me right now. He has always showered with me.
I want him back so badly. I’ve lost him. I just hope it isn’t
forever. I wash myself and linger beneath the water for what seems
like hours. Finally, I shut off the taps and step out. Goosebumps
spread across my skin and I shiver when the cold air hits me. I
towel dry my body and hair as fast as I can and bolt out the door,
making a beeline for the closet. I dig through the clothes that
Damon bought for me, searching fruitlessly for something resembling
pajamas.

I feel his eyes on me and I turn to see him
leaning against the door frame, watching me. My towel is on the
floor and I don’t have a stitch on; I feel uncharacteristically
modest. He holds his big hand out to me and my heart nearly stops.
It isn’t much, but I’ll take it. I don’t hesitate, walking to him
and putting my hand in his. He turns and leads us to the bed, where
he strips down to his skin and pulls the covers back. We both crawl
into his big bed. I turn onto my side to face him; his arm curls
around my waist and drags me closer to him. It feels like breathing
after holding my breath for a lifetime. I nuzzle into him. His chin
rests on top of my head. I kiss his bruised chest and savor this
moment.

“I’m trying,” he whispers.

“I know.”

He doesn’t utter another word. I feel his body
relax as sleep closes in.

“I love you,” I whisper, barely loud enough for
even me to hear. I close my eyes and drift. Consciousness fades as
dreams of him confessing his love take over.

***

I woke up to a note
this morning.

I have things to get done. Be back. –D

It wasn’t exactly how I wanted to start the day,
but at least I slept in his arms last night. I really shouldn’t
complain. He said he’s trying and I believe him. It’s just going to
take a while for him to get there, like Grams said. In the
meantime, I’ll give him whatever he wants, including “myself” via
kinky detached sex. Indifferent sex used to be my preference, and
now I find myself feeling robbed and cheap for having it. It
doesn’t matter, though. If it’s what he needs, I’ll oblige him.
I’ve dealt with much worse.

I pick up his note and examine it again. He
didn’t say where he was going or when he’d be back. I check the
time on my cell phone, then type out a text message for him.

Lunch with Grams today. See you after?

I wait for a response but nothing comes. Part of
me can’t help but worrying about him, so I shoot Brian a text in
hopes that he’s with Damon.

Is he with you?

“You can’t come with me today, Hemingway. No
dogs at the old folks’ home. Be good.” I ruffle his fur then grab
my bag. In the elevator, my phone chirps.
Whew.
A text from
Brian.

Yep. Working. Don’t worry, honey.

I inhale deeply, relieved that he’s with Brian.
I know I don’t have to worry about anything when Brian is with him.
He always says he does all the stuff a wife would do but none of
the perks. He’s a character. On my way to see Grams, I stop at The
Diner to pick up lunch for us. I haven’t been there in weeks,
actually, and I called ahead because I didn’t want to have to wait
forever and make small talk with Noni. The last time I was here,
Damon was with me and she was acting like a weirdo. Maybe she was
pulling a Grams and thinking about hitting on a younger man.

Noni bounces right over when she sees me come
in, making her way over to me with a big smile. “Hey, where’ve you
been, girl? I was actually starting to worry that you got sick of
this old place. Lord knows I’m sick of it.” She grins and I do my
best to seem legit when I laugh at her little joke.

“Oh, Damon and I went out of town for a little
while. He just wanted to get away.”

The ongoing story is that Damon and I have been
on vacation. Brian was a lifesaver when he spread the rumor and
held down the fort for him while he was recovering. No one knows
about what happened and we plan to keep it that way.

“Oh, how nice! Where did he take you?”

Brian told everyone that we went to Miami for
some time on the beach. Score another for Brian. He probably sent
people postcards and everything.

“Miami. It was really nice,” I lie.

“Where’s the glowing beach tan, girl?” Her eyes
scan me head to toe.

“A-ah,” I stutter, thinking fast. “We didn’t,
um, spend much time out of our hotel room.”

Noni’s eyes get huge and her cheeks blush a
flaming red before heading to the kitchen for my takeout order. She
returns in a flash, holding out the paper bag with our lunch in. I
slide the cash across the counter.

“Don’t disappear on me again! And bring that
handsome boyfriend of yours around more often!”

I wave over my shoulder at Noni the Cougar and
hurry to my car with our burgers. Another good thing about Frank is
that I never have to worry about takeout getting cold. The heat
index has got to be 105 degrees, so it must be at least 102 inside
Frank. I get my ass over to Grams just as quickly as I can without
getting a ticket, just so I can get the hell out of the car and
enjoy some air conditioning.

When I make it to Grams’ door, I knock twice and
walk in. “Lunch is here!” I say in a singsong voice. I’m shocked to
see Andy sitting beside Grams in casual clothes.

“Yum! Let’s eat,” Grams says as her wrinkled
hands clasp together in anticipation. Damn, it’s just a burger.
Granted, they’re the best burgers in town, but it’s not caviar or
anything. I drag her rolling table over to her bed.

“No, no. We can eat at my table.” She gestures
to the dining table in the corner of the room. I’ve never seen her
use it before.

I arch my eyebrows at her as she straightens
herself in the bed to get up.

“Come on Andy, we can share.” She smiles wide at
him and he looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Yeah, okay, I can hang out for a while longer.
Hey, Jo.”

I smile politely at him. “Hey. No uniform
today?”

“Nah, I’m not technically working today but I
told Bee I would come by and take care of those scuff marks on the
wall.” He motions with his chin towards Grams’ freshly painted
wall; all evidence of the bogus cane damage is gone. She’s such a
con. It’s hilarious.

“Isn’t he nice, Jo?” Grams purrs.

“Yep, that’s great.” I open the paper bag and
start digging out our lunch as Grams settles in on her side of the
small dining table. She got all dressed up for him too. She’s got
on one of those velour jogging suits that old ladies like to wear.
It’s royal blue and ridiculous looking. I catch a glimpse of one of
her socks and I am not shocked in the slightest to see that they
match her outfit perfectly. Royal blue socks. I’m not even sure
where the hell to find colored socks like that. The whole outfit
has me wanting to burst out into a fit of laughter. When the hell
is Grams going to go jogging?

“Wanna share?” Grams slides her burger and fries
towards Andy.

“Oh, no ma’am. I already had lunch.”

She nods and smiles at the poor sucker, diving
into her burger with a reckless abandon I thought was reserved for
circus peanuts.

Andy’s attention turns to me. “So, Jo, what do
you do?”

Seriously?
I catch myself before I roll
my eyes at his clichéd attempt to make conversation. “Um, I run a
bookstore.”

He pretends to give a damn, asking lots of
questions about the bookstore, how long I’ve been there, yada yada,
which only makes the urge to roll my eyes more difficult to
resist.

“Yeah, Damon bought the whole store just so he
could date her. Can you believe that grandson of mine?” Grams
chimes in.

Andy sends a charming smile in my direction and
nods knowingly. “Is that what I’d have to do to date you? Buy you a
bookstore? Or a hardware store, maybe?”

I nearly choke on a damn French fry. He reaches
over and pats me on the back.

“I’m fine,” I croak out. He keeps his hand on my
back and rubs in a circular motion. My eyes water like I’m crying.
That’s what I get for inhaling a fucking French fry. I gulp down
some of my soda and clear my throat. “That’s funny, but I’m in a
relationship.”

Andy’s hand drifts from my shoulder blade to my
upper arm.

“You are?” Grams pipes in.

Of course I am. Way to back me up,
smartass.

“She is,” a booming voice confirms.

I snap my attention to the doorway. Damon is
standing there, looking less than thrilled but oh-so-handsome in
his dress shirt and slacks. He’s back to dressing for work already,
which means he must’ve been meeting with people. That’s a step in
the right direction, I guess. His face is clean shaven, his hair
has been trimmed; he physically looks like the Damon I know and
love. He’s glaring at Andy, who doesn’t look particularly bothered
by Damon’s presence. They’re sizing each other up, though, I just
know it. I can practically see the pissing contest getting started.
Men.
I scoot my chair back from the table to get Andy’s hand
off of me.

“Damon! Get over here and hug me, boy!” Grams
calls around a mouthful of burger.

Damon’s attention turns from Andy to Grams and
he does as she says. “Grams, I came to steal Josephine from you. We
have some things to take care of.”

“Okay!” Grams chirps happily.

Of course she wants me out of here. Poor Andy is
going to be stuck with her, but I’m all too happy to oblige. It’s
been awkward as hell in here.

“I want you to call me later. We have to talk.”
Grams points her finger at Damon authoritatively.

“He will.” I assure her as I stand and sling my
bag over my shoulder. I make my way around the table and lean over
to hug Grams. “Use protection,” I whisper only loud enough for her
to hear. She cackles and bats her hand at me playfully. I smile
politely at Andy.

Damon’s hand goes proprietarily to the small of
my back, no doubt to usher me from the room. His hand falls away
once we’re in the hall. I’ve begun to expect at least some degree
of rejection from him, so his distance doesn’t surprise me. It
disappoints me, of course, but it doesn’t surprise me at all. He
was just doing that to show Andy that I’m his.

“Where are we going?” I speed walk beside him as
he takes long, easy strides out of the building.

He flicks his wrist to open his sunglasses and
puts them on. He’s irresistibly attractive even acting like this.
Maybe particularly acting like this. “To get rid of Frank.” His
eyes stay straight ahead as we cross the parking lot.

“And why in the hell would I do that?” I know
that my piece of shit car isn’t anything to brag about, but it’s
mine; bought and paid for with my own money. It was a big deal for
me when I bought Frank.

“It barely runs and has next to no safety
features. Most women would love a new car.”

“Well I’m not most women, am I?” I snap at
him.

He stops abruptly, causing me to nearly collide
with his back. He turns to me and snatches his sunglasses off his
face. “You are most definitely not most women, Josephine, and
that’s why you won’t be driving that piece of shit car or hanging
out with maintenance men who have no shame in undressing you with
their fucking eyes!” He growls at me and uses his sunglasses to
point at me. He’s pissed. No. He’s livid. Jealousy is kind of hot
on Damon. He puts his glasses back on and keeps walking towards his
BMW.

“Lots of men undress me with their eyes. He
isn’t the first and he won’t be the last,” I admit honestly.

“Don’t toy with me by trying to make me jealous,
Josephine. I won’t tolerate it.”

“Well excuse the hell out of me. I wasn’t trying
to make you jealous. You’re doing a bang up job of it all on your
own, Big Man.”

“Keys.” He holds his hand out, waiting
impatiently. I’m surprised he isn’t tapping his foot.

I hesitate for a moment to think about this. I
worked hard to buy Frank. I saved and saved for what seemed like
forever. I wouldn’t mind a new car; no one would refuse a new car.
Let’s be honest. I’ve had Frank for a long time. Over five years.
He’s been a loyal car but Damon is insisting on a new car; a safer
car; a less obtrusive car.
What’s so wrong with accepting?
I
glance up at him and his outstretched hand. An idea hits me and I
feel like patting myself on the back. Give and take is the name of
this game.

“You want me safe?” I probe, plan in place.

“Yes,” he says, sounding all kinds of
exasperated.

“You want me happy?”