Tell Me a Secret (27 page)

“Yes, Beba. I will give you my sperm.”

 
~~*~~
 

After returning home from her dance date, Maggie enjoyed her view from the balcony and blew out a perfect purple, bubble, popped it, then sucked it back into her mouth. It had been years since she’d chewed grape gum, her favorite flavor. She pulled the black angora sweater tighter to fight off the chill and enjoyed the hotel courtyard, wishing she had someone to talk to. Alone time wasn’t a good thing. She missed Jace. Heisman. Her life.

She recalled the events of the day and started to laugh. The giggles echoed off stone walls surrounding the area. A small group of pigeons, startled by the outburst, flew to the nearest rooftop.

“What’s so funny?”

She shifted toward the voice and adjusted her glasses. A young woman stood in the shadows. “Did you know stop, drop, and roll doesn’t work in Hell?” Maggie said.

The woman stepped back. Maggie could tell by her expression the brunette decided she’d made contact with a lunatic. Maggie smiled and pointed to the church marquee across the street. “It says so right there.”

The woman leaned her head forward to read the sign. “Oh yeah, that’s funny.”

Happy to have the company, Maggie motioned for her to sit. “Not just the sign. It’s been a funny day all the way around for me.” She stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Maggie Kincaid.”

“Beth Ann Blevins.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. Please join me. I promise I’m not nuts. As I said, it’s been a wild day.”

Her new friend took a seat. “Yeah. My day’s been kinda weird, too.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Did you just move in?”

“No. Late visit with a client. Mrs. Collier. Twelfth floor, suite-A. Do you know her?”

Maggie gave it some thought. “Oh. Is she that lady who wears all the gaudy jewelry?”

“That’s the one. Believe me; her penchant for fashion carries over to her home décor.”

“So you’re doing a decorating project?”

“Yes. She’s staying here until the renovations on her house are finished. I’ve spent the last two hours trying to talk her out of mounting two stuffed peacocks on either side of her fireplace.”

“Did you succeed?”

“Nope. Her minds made up. I can imagine what all her rich friends will think of my talent once they see those things leering from on high. Just my luck, my first client would be someone with bad taste. What about you? What happened to cause your odd day?”

She giggled again, knowing she could out-crazy Beth Ann. “Well, my best girlfriend told me she’s pregnant and my best guy-friend offered me his sperm.”

And none will hear the postman’s knock without a quickening of the heart.

For who can bear to be forgotten?

~W.H. Auden

Jace wondered if he’d ever get another good night’s sleep. Ten days since he came home, and Maggie plagued every waking moment. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t push her from his mind.

He rolled his wheelchair into the sunroom and stared out at the gazebo. Instead of fighting the thoughts, now, he let them wash over him and struggled to make the images more vivid. The way her eyes danced when he winked at her across a crowded room. When he kissed her neck, how she’d tilt her head, and tap the other side beneath her ear for him to give it the same attention.

Kiss me, because you’re gonna miss me
, her way of saying good-bye. He closed his eyes and hung onto the memory. His head pounded. The thought of never seeing her, kissing her, holding her again, was too much. He gazed down at his ring finger and ran his thumb across the space. Funny how his missing wedding band caused him to feel naked. He supposed Maggie had it. Just as well. He’d never need it again. He shook his head. He needed to stop thinking about her. It was the only way he’d be able to move on.

He eyed the six new wheelchairs lined against the sunroom wall, then outside to the basketball court and the sign mounted on the fence. Maggie’s rules:
If Jace plays, everyone uses a chair.
He whispered a laugh.
Yeah, like playing basketball will make sitting in this chair easier. Bullshit.

Wheeling around, he rolled into the bedroom and picked up the phone. He could call her. Ask her to come home and she would. But how long before she decided she could have children with someone else? Sentenced to life in a chair, he refused to let her be held hostage by marriage. That was his final declaration of love. He replaced the phone just as Kyle stepped in.

“Hey, I’ll go unpack more freight and put the items in the sunroom,” Kyle said.

“Okay, but first would you get the mail?”

“Sure.” Kyle opened the door and in a minute, he returned.

From the corner of his eye, a flash of pink caught Jace’s attention. “Give me the package.” He stared at the wrapping and rubbed his fingers over the return,
Maggie
. His heart picked up speed and for the first time in weeks, he was
excited
.

“You plan to open it or just fondle it?” Kyle asked.

“What do you think it is?”

“One way to find out.”

Jace held it for a moment. His hands trembled and then he ripped the paper like a child on Christmas morning. From the cardboard package, he lifted a wooden box. It appeared handmade. Walnut with an inlay of some type of burled wood and engraved on the top,
Jace Andrew Sloan
. He raised the lid. Inside, a silver letter opener rested on a velvet lining, the wooden handle monogrammed J.A.S., and beneath it, a pink envelope. He brought it to his nose, closed his eyes and breathed her scent. His heart raced faster.

“Well, you’ve looked at it, touched it, and smelled it. You may as well lick it. Hell, open the damn thing.”

“Shut up, Kyle.”

“I need to make a call anyway, so I’ll leave you to it. While I’m gone, try to work up the courage to actually read it.”

Taking the opener, Jace passed the blade under the flap and created a clean sharp line. He removed the two folded pages and began.

Dear Jace,

It’s been ten days. But who’s counting? You are. I am. That’s ten days we can never get back. If I were a betting woman, I’d wager during that time, you’ve thought less about your paralysis and more about me. You’re wondering where I am, how I am and if you’ll see me again.

None of that matters. I’m away from you and that’s what you wanted. Isn’t it? How am I? I’m miserable. My heart breaks a little more each minute. Are you ever going to see me again? I pray you will. It’s your decision. All you have to do is ask. No apology needed. No reason necessary.

Since I know how much you love my secrets, I’ve enclosed one for you. I love you and I always will.

Maggie

Journal Secret

We started kissing in the shower. I hadn’t French kissed a boy since Eric Jenkins in eighth grade. I remember it being gross. His tongue inside my mouth felt how I imagined a lizard’s. Pointy, slimy. I’m sure by now, Eric has improved his kisses, at least for his sake I hope so. However, Jace’s kisses have long been perfected. He mastered his technique. As his lips made love to my mouth, all I could think was I didn’t care if he’d kissed a hundred girls before me. Now he was kissing me and that’s all that mattered. We didn’t stop with kissing. He did things to me. Shampooed my hair. Touched me. Whispered words. Dirty words. And I liked it.

He held the pages to his chest as if to let the words soak into his heart. He pulled them away and read them again. The reference to the lizard kiss caused him to smile. The last four words produced a different reaction. He fought the urge to cry and then noticed his mom standing in the doorway.

“Is that from Maggie?”

He nodded. “How did you know?”

“Pink paper. I remember the thank you she sent after she ate dinner with us, and again after Thanksgiving and Christmas. I was impressed she took time to write a personal note. What did she say?”

He lowered his eyes and shook his head, unable to speak for the knot in his throat.

She crossed the room, eased into the chair next to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Let me guess. She loves you and wants to come home.”

He nodded again.

“Oh, sweetie, let her. She loves you and I know you love her. Why are you doing this?”

He tried to speak, but it came out as a whisper. “The day of the accident we had an argument. I said hurtful things. I’ve done hurtful things. I can’t bear the thought of one day seeing nothing but regret on her beautiful face.”

She rubbed his shoulder. “She’ll forgive you. I bet she already has. We all say and do things when we’re angry. She understands. Why don’t we go for a walk? How can you think clearly when you won’t leave this house?”

“Go for a walk? Have you forgotten I can’t do that anymore?”

Tears welled in her eyes and Jace regretted what he’d said.

“It isn’t good for you to stay in this room all the time. At least come over to our house. Sit out on the deck. You always loved doing that. Heisman could sit with you. He’d welcome the company. Besides, you two have a lot in common these days. Neither of you want to do anything but lie around and both of you miss Maggie. What do you say?”

“No, Mom. I can’t.”

“Look at yourself. You haven’t shaved in days. You’re not sleeping or eating. You won’t let any of your friends come visit. You’re a mess. You can’t live this way. Call her. If you don’t, I will.”

He snapped his head up, fire in his eyes. “No! You won’t. This is none of your business. You don’t understand, but take my word for it. I don’t deserve her and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve somebody like me.”

Words are the keys to the heart.

~Chinese Proverb

Jace hated his life. Everything about it. The paralysis. Loneliness. Resentment.
Guilt
. He despised the tube in his dick so he didn’t piss himself. Loathed using a Magic Bullet so he didn’t shit his pants. Detested taking medication to sleep and especially reviled Sunday’s, because of no mail delivery. The only peace he found was through her words.

A spark of excitement flickered in his chest, the same as every Monday morning. Rolling to the window, he stared out at the mailbox.

“The mailman won’t be here for at least two more hours,” Kyle said.

Jace wheeled to face him. “I’m not waiting on that. I’m checking the weather.”

“Could have fooled me. You’re already showered and dressed like you’re going on a date—with a letter.” He laughed.

“Shut up.”

“A little testy? That’s a good sign. C’mon, let’s do your workout. It’ll help you pass the time until your
date
arrives. Besides, I want to put you in the new standing machine I unpacked yesterday. You’ll love it.”

Jace followed his therapist to the sunroom and stared at the three new items lined next to the wheelchairs. “What are those two things?”

“What do you think they are?”

He scratched his head. “Well, that one looks like some kind of weight bench, but the other one, maybe a fancy lounge chair or something.”

Kyle laughed again. “They’re both sex chairs.”

Jace’s eyes went wide and his mouth hung open. “What? Why?”

“Seems your wife has plans. The curved one is to put you in the right position for her to get on top. The one similar to a workout bench, well, the woman lies on it and scoots to the end the same as when she gets a pelvic exam.” He demonstrated. “You sit on this movable seat, between her legs and when you pull these hand levers, you’re able to thrust into her.”

Jace ran fingers through his hair. “Shit. Why did she buy these?”

“C’mon, man. Just because you’re paralyzed doesn’t mean you stop wanting sex. I’ve worked with lots of guys and once they find out their condition, the first thing they want to know is if they’ll still be able to do it.”

“What’s the point?”

“The point is, sex is mostly up here.” He tapped his temple. “So you won’t climax like you used to, but you’ll still experience pleasure. If you’d been willing to attend those classes, you’d know that.”

Gripping the arms of his chair, Jace stiffened. “I don’t see the value in sitting around with a bunch of other gimps to discuss all the shit we can’t do.”