Chasing Abby (18 page)

Abby has to take Xarelto, a blood thinner, to keep blood clots from forming in her heart. Because of her heart valve disease, blood can sometimes pool inside her heart. If she doesn’t take the Xarelto, clots can form, travel through her blood vessels and into her brain, and cause a stroke. With this new form of Xarelto, she only has to take it twice a week. But taking the pills less often means there’s less room for error if she forgets to take one or if she runs out of her meds in the evening. Which is why all her prescriptions are filled at 24-hour pharmacies. 

“Give me that bottle. I’ll call the pharmacy in Raleigh and tell them to transfer the prescription to another 24-hour pharmacy over here.”

“But they won’t fill the prescription twice in one month. It’s a ninety-day supply.”

“They will if you tell them you’re out of town and you left your meds at home. Then, when you go home and find the bottle you were supposed to pack, you’ll have a 180-day supply. Less trips to the pharmacy and problem solved.”

She hands me the empty Xarelto bottle and I quickly dial the number for the CVS pharmacy listed on the label. I’m on the phone with the pharmacy technician for no more than five minutes before they have the prescription transferred to a 24-hour CVS in Wilmington.

“See? All fixed. Now we just have to tell your parents we’re leaving at ten o’clock at night.”

Abby starts dumping everything back into her purse. “They’ll understand. Go wait outside. I have to change.”

I smile as I head out into the dark hallway and realize I’m finally going to have a chance to get Abby alone for a few minutes. This past week, not being able to touch her and kiss her anytime I want, has been pure torture. She’s my sunshine and the past seven days have been plagued by heavy overcast.

She comes out of the bedroom in her shorts and a tank top just as Chris comes out of the bedroom in a T-shirt and pajama pants. “What’s going on?” He looks at Abby’s hand and that’s when I notice the empty pill bottle she’s holding. “Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No,” she replies quickly, holding up the bottle. “I’m just out of my meds. Caleb is taking me to the 24-hour CVS in Wilmington. We should be back soon. Is that okay?”

“Of course. Yeah, go ahead. Go get whatever you need. Do you need any cash? Hold on, I’ll go get my wallet.”

“No, it’s fine. The meds are free.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”

She chuckles as she tucks the bottle into her purse. “I’m positive. It’s part of the disability benefits. I… We should get going. We’ll be right back.”

And on that awkward note, Abby pulls me down the stairs and through the back door to the driveway, where my car is parked. Once we’re inside, I lower the top so we can feel and smell the cool sea breeze and she heaves a sigh of relief.

“How awkward, to have to explain to my millionaire dad that I collect disability benefits.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I say, backing the ’Cuda out onto Sandpiper Street. “I’m sure he probably figured as much considering you were born with that condition.”

“Still, it doesn’t make it any less weird.”

I reach across and squeeze her thigh as I head toward Lumina. “It’s okay, Abby. I’m sure it was way more weird for him than it was for you. Imagine knowing that your child was on disability because her adoptive parents wanted nothing to do with you. He’s probably feeling like a jerk for not being more persistent about being a part of your life.”

“And probably pissed that my parents wouldn’t let him help me. God, they really screwed this up.”

I turn left on Lumina, then I hop onto Highway 74. We pull into the CVS parking lot on Market Street about twenty minutes later. We rush inside and head straight for the pharmacy counter in the back. The pharmacist working is an Asian lady with a pleasant smile.

“May I help you?” she asks, flashing us a friendly smile when we approach the pickup counter.

“Yes, my prescription was just transferred here about thirty minutes ago. For Abigail Jensen.”

She furrows her perfectly shaped eyebrows together and shakes her head. “I haven’t gotten anything for that name in the last half hour, but I’ll double-check.”

She checks through the alphabetized bags hanging from the stack of rods behind her. She sifts through the A’s and the J’s twice before she comes back empty-handed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have anything here under that name. Let me just check the computer. Give me a moment.”

She begins typing on the computer and I clasp my hand around the back of Abby’s neck as we wait. I massage her a little, trying to help her stay calm as the pharmacist’s fingers fly across the keyboard. Finally, she picks up her phone and dials a phone number.

“Hi. Yes, this is Karen Chen at 3822. Can you please verify that you have a prescription for forty milligrams of Xarelto for an Abigail Jensen? Please call us back as soon as you get this message.”

My heart sinks when I realize she’s leaving a voicemail. “No, you have to get that prescription. She needs it,” I insist as she sets the phone down.

“I’m sorry, but they must have transferred your prescription to the wrong pharmacy. And the one they transferred it to closed at ten. It’s almost eleven. You’ll have to wait until they open at eight a.m. to pick it up over there.”

“She can’t wait until tomorrow!” I reply, leaning over the counter to try to see what her computer says. “She’s only supposed to take it on Fridays and Saturdays. Tomorrow’s Sunday. She needs it now.”

“Caleb, it’s fine,” Abby says, pushing me away from the counter. “Thank you for your help.”

“You can’t skip that pill until Friday. That’s dangerous.”

“It’s fine. We’ll pick it up tomorrow morning and I’ll call my doctor and ask if I can take it on Sunday instead. No big deal.”

I shake my head as she drags me out of the pharmacy and back to the car. Once we’re inside, I realize we’re going to be returning to the beach house without Abby’s meds. They’re probably going to think we were lying about the prescription so we could get out of the house.

By the time we get home, all the lights are off except for the glow of Sydney’s cell phone where Jimi and Sydney are huddled on the sofa bed. We bid them goodnight, then I take Abby to Jimi’s room. I close the door behind me, pissed that the pharmacy tech in Raleigh must have misunderstood when I told her we were in Wrightsville Beach. She must have thought I wanted the prescription transferred to the CVS in Wrightsville Beach. 

“I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, please. It’s not a big deal. We’ll go to the pharmacy tomorrow morning.” She stares at me for a moment, then she waves toward the bedroom door. “You have to go before they catch you in here.”

I step forward and take her face in my hands, then I lay a tender kiss on her lips. I can hear her breathing quicken, so I lean in for another. She tastes like the fancy whitening toothpaste Jimi has in her bathroom. I slide my tongue into her mouth and she lets out a soft whimper.

“God, I’ve missed this.”

She pushes me back a little, but her eyes are fixed on my mouth. “You have to leave. We can’t do this here.”

I lean over and kiss the tip of her nose. “I know, but I’m not leaving. I’m sleeping in here to watch over you.”

“What? You can’t sleep in here.”

She attempts to push me toward the door, but I dig my heels in and I’m too solid for her to move. “If you’re not taking all your meds tonight, I’m staying in here to watch over you whether you like it or not. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

She glares at me, but there’s a hint of a smile curling the left side of her mouth. “Fine. But if anyone walks in here you have to hide.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s totally going to work. If anyone walks in here, we’ll just tell them the truth. I stayed in here to make sure you were okay. If they have a problem with that, then screw them. Your health should be their number-one priority while you’re staying here.”

She shakes her head as she opens up the bottom drawer of Jimi’s dresser, which Jimi cleared out for Abby to store her clothes. She grabs a T-shirt and pajama pants then clutches them to her chest while she stands silently contemplating something.

“You want me to turn around?” I know she’s going to say yes, but I have to at least give her the option to try something new. 

“No,” she mutters.

“Really? I mean, are you sure?”

She looks up at me as she tosses the pajamas onto the rollaway bed. “Yes. I’m sure.”

She pulls off her tank top and I try not to smile too wide when I see her white bra and the soft curve of her breasts. I’ve seen her in a bra before, but it was in the heat of the moment, with our bodies pressed against each other. Not like this, with her standing before me, her body on display.

She reaches up and lightly touches her fingertips to the six-inch scar over her breastbone. 

I step forward, keeping my eyes focused on hers as I pull her hand away from her chest. “You’re gorgeous. Every inch of you.”

She lowers her head as she reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra. “You don’t think my boobs are too small?”

She slowly slips the bra straps off her shoulders and her breathing quickens as she peels it off and tosses it onto the bed next to her tank top.

“Too small?” I reply, unable to take my eyes off her slightly pink nipples. “No way. They’re perfect.”

She chuckles as she reaches for her pajama shirt. She pulls it on, then she undoes her shorts and shrugs out of them. Her skin has a bit of a bronze sheen from spending this week on the beach. I’ve seen her in her one-piece bathing suit almost every day since we came here, but something about watching her change in front of me feels more intimate.

She pulls on her pajama pants and throws her clothes in the hamper before she gets in under the covers. “I know it’s a small bed, but I don’t know where the spare blankets are for you to sleep on the floor. So I guess you’ll have to sleep with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” she replies, scooting over and patting the mattress for me to lie down with her.

I turn off the lamp and slide into bed with her. The bed squeaks under my weight, and for a moment I worry that this will wake someone up. But then Abby snuggles up to me with her head on my shoulder and her arm draped over my belly, and all my worries disappear. 

I kiss the top of her head and give her shoulder a light squeeze. “Goodnight, sunshine.”

“Goodnight, turtledove.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I
OPEN
MY
EYES
and the first thing I see is Caleb’s black T-shirt. I smell his warm skin through the fabric. When I look up, I’m not surprised to find Caleb is wide awake and watching me.

“How long have you been awake?”

“About an hour. I didn’t want to wake you up until 7:30 ’cause we don’t have to go to CVS until eight.”

“Are you saying I need all the beauty rest I can get?” I say as I push myself up onto my elbow.

“Exactly what I’m saying. Look at you. You’re hideous with that blonde hair tumbling over your graceful neck, highlighting the exquisite bone structure of your hideous visage.”

I shake my head as I sit up, but the bed is too narrow for me to sit cross-legged. “Is everyone else awake? You should go back to Ryder’s room.”

He chuckles at my suggestion as he sits up. “You know that boy is still asleep, but everyone else is awake. I heard Claire and Jimi arguing. Anyway, there’s no hiding this. Someone’s going to see me coming out of this room.”

“Wait. Aren’t they supposed to go to a music festival at Carolina Beach today?”

Caleb’s emerald eyes light up. “You’re right. And your mom said you couldn’t go.”

I roll my eyes at this. When I called my mom yesterday morning, I told her how the Knights were taking me to a music festival in Carolina Beach. She told me I couldn’t go because there would be too many people and I could easily overheat or get sick. Heart valve disease makes me more susceptible to endocarditis, an infection of the heart lining, vessels, or valves. I had endocarditis after the last surgery to reshape one of my leaflets, and my mom claims I almost died. Not that I don’t believe her, but I’ve come to realize that my mom will say just about anything to make me do what she wants. 

Since endocarditis is caused by bacteria that enter the bloodstream, the chances of me getting it just by being around a bunch of people is ridiculous. But, as it is, she’s already overly skittish about me swimming at the beach in that “nasty” ocean water. I don’t want to press my luck by insisting on going to the music festival. Or she may drive down here herself and kidnap me.

“Well, I guess that means we have the house all to ourselves today,” I say, looking over my shoulder at him.

“Don’t get any ideas, Abby. I plan on holding onto my purity until my wedding night.”

“What about that girl you had sex with before we started going out? The one who tried to break us up. What was her name again? Bitch whore slut?”

“Abby!” He clutches his chest, pretending to be appalled. “That is one dirty mouth you’ve got there. Are you sure you’re a virgin?”

“As sure as I am that you’re going to try to feel me up today.”