Forever Checking (Checked Series Book 3) (19 page)

WE ARE BACK. GOING BACK into my house. After about thirty-five minutes of trick-or-treating.

Mandy grabs the bowl of candy from the porch and unlocks the door. Mandy, Melanie, and Abby kick their shoes off. Mandy takes the bowl of candy into the kitchen. Melanie takes Abby’s trick-or-treat bag from her and also heads to the kitchen. Abby runs to the bathroom.

I am left in the doorway. With him.

Alone. Finally.

He pulls me into his arms, against his chest. His heart beats like crazy.

Warm. Everything warm. Hot.

{Heart starts to wail the refrain to “
Alone
.” Alone. Alone with him. Alone with him. Finally alone with—}

My neck lifts all by itself. My head moves up, up, up—up to his face. My lips on the stubble on his cheek. On his mouth.

Lips together. Lips burning. Lips—

A loud noise in the kitchen.

Mouths painfully separating. Reluctantly pulling back.

Our eyes meet. Gazes intersect. Aching eyes on aching eyes.

He—

“I have to go, Callie.”

What? He has—

He holds me, presses me to him. “I can’t be with you, this close to you, without touching you. Holding you. And I shouldn’t be doing all of that in front of your sisters.” His eyes burn now.

Hungry. Craving. Yearning.

His lips brush mine again hastily, and—

And we both hear the bathroom door opening. Abby’s on her way.

Our bodies part. Hesitantly. Sorrowfully. Difficultly.

His eyes find mine. His hand finds mine. He whispers quickly. “I get you tomorrow.”

He gets me. He gets me. He gets—

“We will get your medicine early in the morning, before church. I’ll pick you up at eight forty-five. Dr. Spencer says that you can start right away—you can take this pill first thing in the morning as long as you eat a small snack with it. So we’ll start tomorrow. And I’ll stay with you tomorrow to make sure that you don’t have any sort of reaction to the medicine.”

He’ll stay with me. He’ll stay with me. He’ll stay with me.

“Then I’ll cook you dinner tomorrow night.” Eyes blazing. “And then—”

And then. And then. And then.

{“
Alone.
” Alone. Alon—}

“Are you leaving, Dr. Blake?”

His eyes leave mine. They move to Abby, who must be standing behind me.

He smiles at her. “Yes, Abby, I have to head out.”

“Oh, well, I hope you liked trick-or-treating.”

I turn to look back at Abby now too. Still a princess. A princess with a serious face. A concerned face. Making sure that she did an acceptable job of showing him how to trick-or—

“Oh, I did, Abby. I really did.”

She beams. “Maybe next year you can do other Halloween stuff with us. We eat a lot of candy, and we watch Halloween shows, and we answer the doorbell when trick-or—”

“Here you go, Abby.” Mandy. Mandy and Melanie both reappear from the kitchen. Both with twinkling eyes. They probably just finished gossiping in the kitchen.

Mandy gives Abby a new, fresh bowl of candy, new candy to pass out to trick-or-treaters. She’ll give the other, now contaminated by various little hands, porch bowl of candy to her sorority sisters, I’m sure. Or she’ll secretly eat the porch candy herself.

I hope she doesn’t eat it herself. I really think she should just throw it—

“Here, Abby. Here’s your candy from Callie.” Melanie hands Abby more candy, a bag of candy that I fixed for her earlier today. Abby’s new Halloween candy. Fresh candy. Untouched candy.

“Thanks, Aunt Callie.” Abby smiles at me, puts the candy bowl on the table by the door, and starts to examine her new bag of Kit Kats and Skittles and Twix bars—all of her favorite types of candy.

He squeezes my hand. I look back at him, and—

“I hope you all have a good evening.” He says goodbye to Mel and Mandy and Abby.

Then he turns to me. Smiling eyes. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Soon.” I mouth the word back to him. Wishing that
soon
could be
now
.

His fingers gently slip away from mine as he walks back out through my front door, closing it behind him.

{And Heart keeps singing “
Alone
.” Wanting us to be alone. Needing us to be—}

“Ready to watch the Charlie Brown Halloween movie?” Abby.

I turn around and smile. Melanie and Mandy are grinning too. Teasing grinning. Bursting with questions grinning.

I just nod to Abby, kick my shoes off on my shoe towel, and head to the living room.

WE START TO WATCH THE Charlie Brown movie,
It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
. We hit pause on the DVD player every time the doorbell rings so that Abby can hand out candy (she has a system—she makes the trick-or-treaters hold open their bags so she can just toss in a couple pieces of candy. That way, she doesn’t have to touch anything but the new, clean, packaged candy in her bowl. Rather ingenious setup, I think.)

We drink our margaritas. Well, not Mel. Of course. And I only start to drink mine. After the first sip, I realize just how hungry I am. So I eat some chips and a couple of little candy bars (I have many extra calories to use up right now) before having more of my drink.

Mandy and Melanie make comments here and there about my unexpected evening guest. About him being back. About him looking hot. About the way he was looking at me (Yes—they saw that. I’m sure that they saw how I was looking at him, too.)

After trick-or-treating time ends, we turn off the pole light and get dressed in pajamas. Abby falls asleep on the couch only minutes after putting on a princess nightgown, so we stop watching cartoons, and Mandy puts on a
Friends
Halloween episode. The one where Chandler is dressed like a bunny.

I wait until Mandy settles back beside Melanie on the loveseat before I ask her about Josh. And she rolls her eyes and starts talking. Talking about Josh lying to her. Talking about him forgetting or maybe just ignoring their anniversary. Talking about the relationship being all but over.

She doesn’t seem upset. Irritated, yes. But not really sad or anything. She changes the subject eventually, wanting to discuss baby names with Melanie. Melanie has decided that she’ll be going with another ‘A’ name. Can’t argue with that. Name organization. Name uniformity. I like it.

We toss out potential ‘A’ names until the
Friends
episode ends. Then we put on
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
.

During “The Time Warp” (which we decide not to dance to tonight since Abby is sleeping in the room), my phone buzzes.

One text. Unknown number.

My face smiles. Well, I’m pretty sure that it’s been smiling all night, though. I’m—

Callie. Open his text.

Onetwothreeopen.

I already knew about the music in your head, by the way.

What? How could he—

Reply.

How is that possible?

Send.

He has to be lying. Has to be. There is no way that—

Buzz.

Open.

I could tell by the little movements you make all of the time. Foot taps. Head bobs. Small shoulder motions.

What the hell? I move my—

Another buzz.

Open.

I noticed your movements the first day you came into my office.

Wow. Unrea—

Wait. So he could somehow read or see or just know about the music in my head, but he didn’t know that—

Reply.

You could tell that, but you couldn’t tell how I felt…feel…about you?

Send.

Pick my nails. Stare at Tim Curry dressed in drag on the screen in front of—

Buzz.

Open.

Well, I thought…I hoped…that you felt the same way. But when you started to talk the other night at my house, started to tell me everything that was wrong with us and then wanted to leave my house, I thought that maybe I was wrong.

Reply quickly.

You weren’t wrong.

Send.

I can’t believe that I let him think that. Let him believe that maybe I didn’t—

Buzz.

I know that now.

Reply. Smiling.

So your mind-reading powers are still completely intact. Don’t worry.

Send.

I can’t believe—

“What’s he texting you about?” Mandy. “About getting a hotel room somewhere?”

I shake my head. Still smiling. Laughing. “Shut up, Mandy.”

Buzz. Open.

Well, if I’m reading you correctly then, I sense that you don’t want to finish your days of therapy until after you see if the medication works.

Ugh.
Finishing therapy. Three more days of—

Reply.

What three activities do I still have to do?

Send.

Let the activities not be too bad. Let them not be too awful.

Let them not—

Buzz.

Here we go.

One. Two. Three. Open.

Pumping gas. Using syrup (yes—I initially scheduled two days for syrup in case the first day didn’t work out). And blood work (I scheduled two days for this as well—just in case).

I don’t want to eat syrup. And I don’t want to pump gas—not after I read an article years ago about contaminated needles in gas pump handles.

And I really REALLY don’t want to get blood work—just looking at the words makes my stomach—

Buzz. Open.

Do not worry about these activities right now. Let’s just say that we’ll try the gas pumping and the syrup after you’ve been on your medicine for a month. And we’ll try the blood work after that as soon as we feel you are ready. Let’s say definitely within the next…six months?

Reply.

How about within the next three years?

Send.

Buzz. Open.

One year.

Reply.

Done.

Send.

One year. Twelve months. Fifty-two weeks. That’s a long time. And maybe after a few months, I can persuade him to give me an extension. Maybe I—

Buzz. Open.

Good. Now that we have that taken care of, it’s your turn to read my mind. What do you think I’m thinking about right now?

Hopefully the same thing that I’m thinking about right now. {“
Alone
.” Heart.}

Reply.

Umm…Halloween candy?

Send.

{Heart continues to—}

Buzz. Open.

No.

You. Us. Tomorrow.

My cheeks start to heat up and—

“Now you are blushing, Callie. Are you guys starting the foreplay now, before you even reserve a hotel room?” Mandy again.

Melanie laughs. I just shake my head. And tell them both to shut up. And smile.

Reply.

Me too.

Send.

Me too. Me too. Me—

Buzz. Open.

I’ll let you get back to Girls’ Night. Good night, Callie.

Reply.

Good night :)

Send.

I continue to watch
The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
My sisters continue to make  comments about my texting (Well, Mandy is the main one commenting. Melanie plays on her phone as we watch the movie—she’s probably beating someone unmercifully in Words with Friends. She still laughs at Mandy’s remarks, however).

My face continues to smile. It refuses to stop.

My mind also refuses to stop. Thoughts keep coming. Thoughts about his texts. His words. His arms. His mouth. Thoughts about tomorrow.

Thoughts about him.

11:05 P.M.

Mandy just went to bed. Melanie and Abby are both sound asleep. Time for my night routine.

Thermostat: 70 degrees (I’m still smiling). Stove: off (still smiling). Doors: locked (Thinking about him on my doorstep earlier tonight. Holding me). Blinds: closed (
Holding me. Holding me. Holding me
). Alarm: set (Set for 5:00 a.m. Early. So I can be ready when he picks me up to fill my prescription before church. When he picks me up. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow). Teeth: brushed (mouth still somehow smiling during brushing). Pictures: straightened. Clothes for tomorrow: out (black dress and black leather shoes for church…and for my day with him). Mandy’s room: cleaned. Nails: painted. Email inbox: empty (One unnecessary email from Dr. Gabriel about the upcoming university holiday schedule. DELETE. Two pieces of junk mail—apparently I won the lottery in two different countries. Delete. Delete.) Laundry: away (wondering what he is doing tonight). Entire house: dusted (picturing him in his bed). Kitchen: scrubbed (picturing him in bed). My bathroom: sanitized (Him. In. Bed). Evening shower: taken
{Il Divo takes over Heart. Same song, though. “
Alone
.” Now in Spanish.}
Body lotion: applied
{Louder.}
Pajamas: on (purple silk pajamas—retrieved from the box in my closet). Hair: dried
{Il Divo. Louder and louder. Four male voices singing all at once.}
 Prayers: said (
Thanks for bringing him back to me. Thanks for bringing him back to me. Thanks for bringing him back to me. Oh, and sorry my thoughts are so inappropriate tonight)
. TV: on (flame broiled—)