Dean nodded and crossed his legs again, staring out the window at the oncoming evening. The sun was just beginning to creep into the horizon, hints of starlight starting to peek through the silver clouds. I watched the road, the black asphalt flying beneath our wheels as we sped back to our real lives, but all I wanted was to find that rainstorm world so I could be alone with Dean again.
Chapter 24
Present Day
Robbie passed me as I walked down the hallway toward Daniel's room. His eyes were still rimmed with red, and his lips were pursed together as he walked the ornate carpet, his mind lost in thought. I don't think he even saw me as he paced back and forth down the long hallway. I wasn't sure he had even been in to see his father since we had brought him home, but at least he was in the house.
I knocked softly before entering the large room that had become Daniel's infirmary. A large hospital bed took up the center of the room, an oxygen tank and an IV pole tucked carefully beside them. Bianca sat in a large easy chair in the corner, her feet tucked up under her as she typed on her laptop. I could hear soft classical music, playing softly in the background. Know Daniel, it was probably Mozart.
Daniel sat propped up in the bed, pillows and blankets tucked tightly around him. His pale face was so gaunt that his eyes seemed to sink into his paper thin skin. I remembered the healthy father whom had welcomed me into the Saunders' household. Where thick brown hair had once fallen into his eyes with a roguish flare, white wisps hung flat against his head. He smiled as I entered, his lips thin and pale.
"How you doing, old man?" I asked, sitting next to the large bed. Daniel looked perturbed, but his eyes were twinkling.
"I was going to go dancing, but Bianca says her feet hurt," he answered. Bianca snorted from her chair, a smile crossing her face. They had loved to dance.
"Well, I guess I'll just have to get her new shoes for tomorrow night." I reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. I could feel the bones through his parchment-like skin.
"Robert came to see me today. I mean, Robbie. He hates it when I call him Robert," Daniel said, a smile forming on his lips. He had a fascination with the Kennedys, and had always thought his children would grow up to do great things like their namesakes. "I had him tell me all about his last race. I'm sad I didn't get to see it. It sounded like a marvelous race. He said won, but it was close the whole time. He says he has another one coming up in two weeks."
But Daniel won't get to see it. The words hung unspoken in the air like acrid smoke. It was an offhand comment, but we all knew he would never see his son race again. The silence was thick and uncomfortable. Daniel cleared his throat and adjusted the oxygen tube to his nose, trying to break the sudden tension.
"So, Rachel, what are you doing this evening? Going dancing, I hope?" Daniel changed the topic. I knew he wanted everyone to be happy. He had accepted his death, and was going gracefully. It was the rest of us that were having a hard time.
"Jack's given me the night off, but I thought I would just hang around here. I have work to catch up on," I said. Daniel frowned.
"Young lady, I will not have you hanging around here waiting for me to die. I promise I won't go tonight. Go out. Go dancing. I want to know you are having a fun evening, not moping around here. I'm tired of everyone putting their lives on hold waiting for me. So get out of here, and go have some fun." It would have been a marvelous speech, except his voice gave out and he began coughing at the end. I held onto his hand, watching his thin body shake.
Bianca stood, walking quickly to the oxygen tank and upping the flow. It hissed like an angry snake, but Daniel managed to take deeper breaths, his body settling back to normal. I looked away from him, noticing the pictures on the nightstand next to the oxygen tank. There was the picture of Jack and Daniel playing football in the handcrafted frame from that Father's Day long ago. The colors were worn and faded, the frame obviously having been displayed for many years. Next to it was a picture of a smiling Robbie and Daniel on a small sailing vessel. A picture of the two boys sitting on my lap reading a Dr. Seuss book occupied another frame. The last one was an old black and white picture of Bianca blowing him a kiss. A lump grew in my throat. I didn't know how Bianca managed to do this without bursting into tears at every moment. She was a strong woman.
Bianca smiled at her husband as the coughing stopped, running her fingers along his cheek. He looked up at her with adoration in his eyes, catching her hand and kissing it gently. She bent and kissed him back on his forehead before going back and sitting in her chair, watching him with loving eyes.
"If it will make you feel better, I'll go out." I would do anything to make him happy. "There's a restaurant I've been wanting to try," I lied. There was no restaurant. I wasn't even hungry, but I knew he wanted to see me go out and enjoy myself.
"Good. And don't think you can just hide downstairs. I'll send Dean after you and have him drag you to that restaurant kicking and screaming." He gave me one of his no-nonsense looks and I couldn't help but smile.
"That will be hard because it's Dean's night off too," I said. I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Oh, it is?" Daniel gave me a questioning look, but before I could read into it he shrugged and added, "Then I'll just have to send Bianca and Emma. They may not be able to lift you as easily, but between the two of them, I think they could at least get you tied up and in the car."
Bianca gave a girlish giggle. "Please, we'd even get her tied to the chair at the restaurant." I smiled at the image of the older woman wrapping me with rope like an old vaudeville villain while Emma carried me into the car, the two of them cackling and twirling at their mustaches.
"Go out. Have a good time tonight. Please, it will make me feel better knowing that one of us is having a fun evening." He looked up at me, his eyes still bright despite the paleness of his face. I couldn't say no to him.
"All right. I'll go. I'm bringing you back some dessert, though." I gave him a firm look, and he laughed.
I stood up and headed toward the door. As I stepped outside, Bianca called out after me, "Make sure it's something chocolate!" I could hear Daniel laughing as I closed the door.
Chapter 25
Present Day
I had intended to go to a rustic Italian restaurant just a few miles from the Saunders' mansion. I had intended to walk in, sit down, eat lasagna and tiramisu, have a glass of wine, and then head back and take a long hot shower. That was what I had intended. Instead, I was standing in front of Dean's apartment building.
I could see a light coming from his corner unit, the yellow window shining cheerfully into the dark night. The wind blew across the yard, rattling the remaining leaves on the trees and making the fallen ones skitter across the sidewalk. The moon hung low, orange and full against the night sky. I was about to go back to my car, to drive to that little restaurant and actually do what I was supposed to do, but the memory of that kiss pulled at me. Now that we had kissed, even just once, I wanted more.
Before I even knew what I was doing, my hand was knocking at his door. I looked down at the brave appendage in shock, wondering what the hell I was thinking. I needed to go home. I needed to leave this where it was. The wind blew my hair out of its bun, but I couldn't find the rubber-band, so I just smoothed it down. No good was going to come of this, only heartache. I should turn around and run back to my car and just leave him thinking it was some doorbell ditch, I thought.
The door opened, allowing the warm light to spill out into the dark. He stood there, wearing only pajama pants. My mouth went wet, then immediately dry at the sight of his bare chest, the muscles taut and hard. The eagle tattoo looked exactly the same, but now there was a scar from the bullet wound above the eagle's head. His n**ples hardened as the night air hit them, and I had to force my eyes away from their perfection.
"Rachel? What are you doing here?" he asked softly. His brows came together and he stepped out to put his hands on my shoulders. "Is everything all right?"
A red-hot blush seared up my neck. He was worried something had happened to Daniel. I was here because I couldn't stop thinking about his kiss, not because anything was wrong. I suddenly didn't know what to say.
"Here, come inside. It's cold out there." He ushered me into his home, carefully shutting out the night behind me. "Let me throw on a shirt. I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable."
He disappeared into a small room off to the left that I assumed was his bedroom. The apartment was comfortably furnished. A brown leather sofa and recliner faced a huge TV, a gas fireplace's flame dancing merrily underneath it. A small, heavy wooden table with two chairs sat in the kitchen, but it was covered in mail and random odds and ends. Canvas paintings hung on every wall. The one on the mantle I even suspected might be a Renoir. The man loved his art.
"Is everything okay?" Dean now wore a light gray T-shirt with the DS Oil and Gas logo emblazoned on the the front. It was easier to think without his muscles tempting me to touch them. The kitchen smelled delicious, and I could see something boiling on the stove. I felt guilty for disrupting his night off. "Please, take off your jacket and stay awhile. You hungry? I made my favorite beef stew and I always make too much."
I carefully took off my shoes, placing them neatly by the door and setting my jacket on top of them. "I don't mean to intrude. I'm not really even sure why I'm even here. I meant to go to this Italian restaurant, but I missed the exit, and I don't even remember turning off the highway. Suddenly, I was in your parking lot." A fresh blush crept up the back of my neck and into my scalp. Somehow, I was as nervous as a girl on a first date.
Dean laughed, a hearty and wonderful sound. "I'm actually glad you came by. It means I can stop picking up the phone every five minutes to try and get the courage to call you. Soup?"
"Yes, please. It smells wonderful," I said, stepping into his bright kitchen. Everything was organized and meticulous, except for the couple of spots where the soup had splattered onto the stove. He lifted the lid and ladled out a delicious looking stew into a large green bowl, handing the full bowl into my waiting hands.
"Here you go. Careful, it's hot. It's a recipe I learned from one of the Army cooks and then made into my own. It isn't fancy, but it sure tastes good." He gave me one of his perfect lopsided grins as he handed me a spoon. His smile made the butterflies begin to dance in my stomach again. "We can sit on the couch."
While he poured himself a bowl, I headed over to the brown leather sofa. It was worn and soft, giving the entire room a comfortable feeling. I balanced the bowl on my lap and raised a spoonful to my mouth. Flavor rushed across my tongue, the beef and vegetables combining with just enough spice to make my mouth water for more.
"This is delicious!" I took another bite, savoring the meaty broth and the bits of potatoes and carrots. "I didn't know you could cook."
Dean sat down on the couch next to me, close enough to make my heart speed up, but far enough away to be considered proper. "I can't really cook. This is probably the only thing I know how to make, but I just really know how to make it."