Love, Always Read online

Page 15


  “What kind of memories?” I push, feeling it’s important, but unsure as to why.

  “Fishing,” he smiles. “He loved to fish, and every Sunday he’d take me fishing while my mom went to church. We’d rent a boat or we’d fish by a pond he’d find. He’d be so happy when I’d catch something.” He smiles at me, so I smile back, running my fingers through his hair as he hands Josie another toy. “He worked long hours, but when he came home he’d focus all his attention on me. We played with my legos, even though I mainly played at destroying what he’d build. He’d get frustrated and warn me that he wasn’t gonna keep building my legos if I continued destroying them, but I always knew he would.” Josie crawls/scoots into Adam’s lap with one of her beach toys that she throws perfectly at his face, and we both laugh while Adam tries to scold her, but her squeals make it pretty obvious she doesn’t care. “He was good on the grill and he’d barbeque every weekend, and if the weather was good he’d go in the pool with me while my mom read on a lounger. He’s the one who taught me how to swim, and once I was good at it, he’d throw me in the air real high, but I’d beg him to throw me even higher so I could grow wings and fly. My mom would read to me every night, but he’d lie in bed with us and listen to her stories. He helped me out with my homework and he never missed a school event.”

  Adam, my sweet Adam, looks back at me and touches my face as if to see if I’m okay. I close my eyes and lean into his hand the way he does to me and he begins to caress my cheek with his thumb.

  I open my eyes and say, “You’re as good of a dad as he was.” Adam looks away, but he kisses the top of Josie’s head. “We’re both lucky to have you.”

  Adam focuses his attention on helping Josie cover her feet in the sand while I snap pictures with my phone. I love watching them together; they’re like this unit that can’t be broken. And I know their bond will withstand anything life throws at them because Adam is like his dad; a good dad and a good man.

  Adam

  I’m shaking, sweat pouring from my pores and, damnit, I can’t quit shaking. I hear Dee calling for me, but I can’t focus enough to find her. It was a dream, I tell myself. I hadn’t watched my dad die in a long time, but still, it was a dream. A dream entwined in a reality I can’t seem to escape. I watched my dad die and I didn’t do anything to help him. Not in my dreams or in real life. I just sat there and watched, helpless and scared.

  I feel Dee’s weight on me and I finally open my eyes to see her trying to wake me. She’s sitting on top of me as she shakes my shoulders and I bolt upright, pulling Dee into me when I grab her waist. I hug her tightly as she strokes my hair back, whispering words meant to soothe me.

  My body continues to shake, but I don’t loosen my hold around Dee as I dig my face into her neck. I hear her sing softly to me as she continues to rub my back, kiss the side of my face, and run her fingers through my hair. I listen to her and only to her rather than the remnant of my dream that continues to torment me. I feel her touch and force the terror, sorrow and loneliness out so that I can only feel her. My Dee.

  I don’t know how much time passes until the trembling stops, but I still don’t loosen my hold on Dee. She’s my lifeline right now, and I can’t stand to lose her even for a second.

  Dee pulls back from me so that she can look at me, and I feel shame wash over me for losing control in front of her. I don’t know how to explain any of it so I look down and finally let her go. I feel her kiss my forehead and run her hands over my hair once more.

  “I’m gonna run you a bath,” she says, and I look up at her in question. “You’re sweaty.” She shrugs, looking embarrassed. I’m the one who should feel embarrassed. “I just want to take care of you, Adam. Will you let me take care of you?”

  I nod my head quietly, feeling the loneliness drape over me when she leaves me on the bed alone. I hear her turn on the water and look at her when she comes back for me. She’s wearing a simple pink nightie with her hair picked up in a messy bun on the top of her head, and her beauty slams into my gut until I’m breathless once again.

  She takes my hand and I let her guide me to my bathtub where she removes my underwear. I’m too lost in the grief of my memories to even notice my body’s instant reaction to her actions.

  I ease into the bathtub and stay quiet as she wets my hair.

  “Close your eyes,” she whispers into my ear and I oblige her. “Relax.”

  Her hands massage the shampoo into my hair expertly, and I shudder once as I forcefully remove the painful memory of my dad’s still face, frozen forever in time. I lean the back of my head onto her knee as she kneels on the edge of the tub just above me, and sigh when she massages my neck.

  I open my eyes to brush my knuckles over Dee’s face after she kisses my forehead. After rinsing my hair, she runs her fingers through my hair, spreading the conditioner and massaging my scalp.

  This is love. Dee is love.

  I open my eyes when she rinses my hair of the conditioner, and just as I’m beginning to mourn the loss I feel when her fingers leave my hair, she joins me in the tub in her pink nightie. I move to touch her, but she pushes me back gently and begins to wash my body with a washrag. I lean my head on the back of the tub with my mouth open slightly as she rubs my chest, lowering her position with each stroke.

  My nerves become more evident as she gets closer to my crotch, my penis hardening until I can no longer ignore it. Dee looks at me with a small smile when she feels it. Without a single word spoken between us, she straddles me and kisses my neck.

  Allowing her to maintain control is important for both of us right now, so I let her set the tempo while I pull her nightie over her head and begin to glide my hands over her waist. I watch her face as her eyes illuminate and then darken as she gets closer to her peak. I run my hands over her breasts, sucking them between my teeth so I can hear her moan. But still I don’t thrust into her any faster or harder than the tempo she has set.

  My fingers caress her, everywhere, so gently I only feel the electricity between us as she goes back to kissing my neck. Feeling her body tense, I take her face in my hands and kiss her lips as she moans my name into my mouth. Unable to hold onto my control any longer, I pull her hair back gently so that I can suckle the base of her neck as my thrusts become less composed. I release into her as she screams my name. I stay inside of her a little while longer, prolonging the ecstasy as I move my hips in slow, lazy circles.

  “I have to wash your back,” Dee says, gliding off of me.

  I lean forward so she has room to sit behind me and close my eyes again when she scrubs my back. This is what it feels like to be loved, to be nurtured and taken care of. Something I once had but lost when my dad was taken away from me, and my mom could barely take care of herself.

  When she finishes, Dee presses my body towards her and wraps her legs and arms around me. I could sleep here, lost in Dee’s arms and her love.

  I listen to Adam’s breathing as I smooth his hair back. My Adam, my sweet and sturdy Adam. He hasn’t mentioned what his dream was about or why he was so shaken, and while I want to ask him, I’m not completely sure I’d be able to comfort him.

  I’ve been scared before. I’ve hurt before. Those feelings are nothing compared to what I felt when Adam started screaming and writhing in pain in his sleep. No matter how much I shook him or called out his name, I couldn’t wake him. He was too far deep in his own despair.

  When he finally opened his eyes, nothing registered, which brought on a new wave of fear. I didn’t know what to do when he held onto me, and felt even more helpless when he started trembling.

  My Adam. What could he be holding onto that’s so painful?

  Taking care of him gave me a sense of purpose. Adam’s the caretaker in our relationship, but at that moment, he needed me to make everything right. I wasn’t sure if giving him a bath would help, but I was out of ideas.

  It felt right though. His body pressed against mine while we lay in the tub, now fully relaxed. I ki
ss the back of his neck, needing to carry some of his hurt for him.

  “My mom told you how my dad died?” he asks, and I feel my body tense, but I continue to run my fingers through his hair.

  “Yes, but I’d like to hear it from you,” I whisper, wanting him to talk to me.

  Adam takes hold of one of my hands and runs it over his cheek before kissing it.

  “Mom was pregnant and she was craving some chocolate. It was late, but Dad said I could go with him even though it was a school night. We were just going to the gas station, but Dad made it feel like an adventure; us men doing our man stuff.” He’s silent for a second so I continue to hold onto him with my arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, running circles over his chest. “We listened to music on the way to the store with our windows down and screaming the lyrics as loud as we could.”

  I smile at that memory. His dad was probably the one who planted that little seed that grew until his love for music was all encompassing.

  “Rock?” I ask.

  “Rock n’ roll, baby,” he corrects, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “We got what we needed from the store and he even agreed to buy me gummies. See, I wasn’t always the Hitler of healthy food,” he teases, and I bite his shoulder. “Back off, Jaws,” he chuckles, turning to the side to kiss me. Although the water is getting cold, Adam leans his back against me once again, and I resume touching him with my fingers. “I was skipping towards the front of the store when I saw a man with a gun. I tried to be quiet and go back to my dad, but I tripped over a box on the floor.” Adam’s body tenses against mine so I kiss his shoulder and hug him tightly to me. “If I hadn’t tripped and made all that noise, he wouldn’t ever have noticed me.” I run my hands over Adam’s arms when he begins to tremble.

  “Adam—”

  “Don’t you see?” he interrupts me. “It’s my fault, Dee.”

  I shake my head against his back, knowing he won’t believe me.

  “If I hadn’t gone along…if I hadn’t run and just stayed with my dad…if I had been quieter...”

  “You were six, Adam. You were six, and your dad wanted you to go along to do your man stuff.” I smile at him, hoping he’ll smile back, but I can’t see his face.

  “When the man saw me he grabbed me, so I started yelling for Dad. He dropped everything on the floor when he saw me and lunged himself at the man. I was tossed into an aisle with potato chips. I remember that, all the flavors,” he laughs a humorless laugh. “And I remember thinking my dad would save the day just like the super heroes I played with, only I heard a gunshot instead. The man ran off after that and I eventually crawled to Dad. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had dislocated my shoulder and bruised a couple ribs. When I got to him, he was staring at the ceiling, already dead. I crawled over to him and fell asleep on his chest.”

  “Oh, baby.” I have no other words for him.

  “That’s what I dreamt about,” he looks back at me with a distant look on his face, “my dad dying.”

  I crawl into his lap and pull him to me as I kiss his face. “It wasn’t your fault, baby.” I turn his face when he looks away, making him look at me. “You’d do the same for Josie. Any good dad would.”

  Adam stands up, taking me with him, and gently steps out of the tub with me in his arms. He pushes his face into my neck before putting me back down on the floor. He wraps a towel around me before getting his own, and we take turns drying each other off, our eyes constantly on each other.

  I follow Adam back to bed and snuggle on his chest as he strokes my back with his long fingers.

  “Dad wasn’t the only one who died that night.” I look up at him from my position on his chest and kiss him lightly, encouraging him to go on. “I didn’t wake up until I was at the hospital, but I thought what had happened at the gas station was just a bad dream, so I kept asking the nurses for Mom. They kept giving me the run around, but one mentioned she was having trouble with the baby.” My heart constricts at his words, because I finally realize exactly what happened to Adam’s baby brother. “I thought she meant Mom was having the baby and Dad was with her. Mom didn’t come see me ‘til the next day, and I had snuck out of my room since then, but the nurses had caught me. Mom was bad when I saw her. She cried a lot when she told me Dad and Tommy, that was my brother’s name, had gone to Heaven. They died that night because of the decisions I made.”

  I open my mouth to retaliate, but Adam raises his hands, effectively shutting me up.

  “I know I didn’t kill them. I know the man with the gun did that. But my decisions made it happen. I have to live with that, live with knowing that my decisions killed my dad, brother and a part of my mom that only came back when Josh came into our lives. And then he died and, damnit, Dee, you gotta know I’d have done anything to save him for you, for my mom, for Josie.”

  “I know that, Adam. But—”

  “I’d do anything for you and Josie,” he says, desperation evident in his voice. “I’d make a deal with God and trade places with Josh just so you could have him back.”

  Grief washes over me. Not because Adam mentioned Josh, but because I can’t stand the thought of losing Adam. A life without Adam would be unbearable.

  “We can’t change what happened, Adam, but the truth is I’ve never been happier in my life. You’re my missing piece, the one who makes me whole. I imagine I’ll always miss Josh, but it’s you I want. It’s you I need. It’s you Josie needs.”

  Adam sucks in a ragged breath, and I hope I’ve breathed new life in him with my words. I hope he realizes just how much he means to me, how much I love him. I hope he realizes he’s my everything.

  “I love you, sweetie,” he says, pulling me even closer to him. “Always.”

  “Always,” I repeat and lie there quietly, listening to his heart beat as he strokes my hair.

  My Adam lives with a guilt he has no need to carry. His dad died saving him, the same way Adam would willingly die for his baby girl. The same way he would have willingly laid his life down so Josh would live for me, for his mom.

  “Your mom loves you,” I whisper into his chest. “She’s so proud of you, of the little boy who took care of her when she was incapable of taking care of herself, and of the man he’s grown up to be.”

  “The little boy wasn’t enough to bring her out of her grief.”

  “No one was, not until she was ready.”

  “Josh was,” he counters.

  “No, baby,” I say, squeezing him tightly. “Josh brought out the spunk of a lonely kid whose life revolved around his mom. Your mom didn’t realize how isolated you were until Josh came into your life,” I recount the story his mom told me while I was in the hospital during one of her visits. “She appreciated what Josh did for you, but she loves you, baby. Seeing you come into your own was what brought her out of her grief and gave her her life back.”

  I feel Adam’s eyes on me, so I move upward so that I’m looking at his face and into his eyes.

  “Josh made me realize what I could be, but you’re the one who breathed life into me. I don't love you in spite of all the broken pieces, because the broken pieces no longer exist. I love you wholeheartedly. You're the only person I'll ever love for the rest of my life.”

  Adam tips his head upwards and takes my mouth in his. After a long gentle kiss, he makes love to me, reminding me of the depth of his love with each touch, each kiss, each thrust.

  It doesn’t take long for Juan to schedule our first meeting with an arbitrator. At least we’ll try to handle this whole mess outside of court, but the media is hounding Adam and me for information. Already so much has leaked, and it’s only a matter of time until word gets out about my stay in a psych ward and the whole world knows I’m a lunatic.

  I grip Adam’s hand, hoping to absorb his ease and confidence. He’s assured me my parents won’t take Josie. But he doesn’t know my parents. He doesn’t know their determination and their inability to accept defeat. Even if they don’t win today, they’
ll come back.

  Juan puts his hand on my shoulder, guiding me into the room where my parents are already waiting for us. I nod at them once, unable to ignore their presence. I look into my parents’ eyes, and for the millionth time in my life I silently ask them why they hate me so much.

  I take a seat between Juan and Adam, but keep my hand tucked safely in Adam’s hand. I look back at him nervously and he smiles at me, making me feel like I’ve already won.

  After we’ve all settled into our seats, the arbitrator commences our meeting by introducing herself as Hilda Tejada. I listen to my parents and their attorney talk endlessly about my lifelong battle with depression and the countless times I had to be taken to the hospital after inflicting some sort of pain to myself. I sit there quietly, but on the inside I’m screaming so loud I have no idea how no one can hear me. Except Adam, whose eyes search mine until I nod slightly at him and squeeze his hand. I’m okay. We knew they’d bring this up.

  After they finish their endless speech on my unworthiness, Juan introduces himself as the family attorney and explains to the arbitrator how he has witnessed my parents’ indifference and negligence towards myself and my illness. He gives examples with exact dates and times he has had to step in to ensure my well-being. The arbitrator listens attentively to both parties and takes notes periodically, only speaking when she asks if I’d like to add anything.

  Nope, absolutely not. But one look at Adam tells me I should. I nod my head once and feel Adam’s fingers squeeze around my hand.

  I have so many stories to share, none of which I want to relive. The most painful actually wasn’t their indifference when Josh died or their disgust when I told them about my stay in the hospital. No, it happened after the first time I cut myself.

  “I was twelve years old,” I begin, not realizing I’ve spoken out loud. “I had been watching our neighbor’s daughter when they’re teenage son came home early.”