Neighbors (7 page)

Eleven

“My, my, my.
What’d you do on your days off that you’re wearing that glow?” Gladys, the head nurse says as she peers over her red-rimmed bifocals as I put my purse in the drawer under my desk. Her large, brown hand slams the drawer closed and she removes her glasses to give me a more penetrating stare.

“What are you talking about, Gladys?”
But I can’t help but blush.

Eileen, the young CNA (Cer
tified Nurses’ Assistant) walks up to the counter. Her magenta streaked hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail. I notice her nails don’t have that crazy deep purple color she favors when not working.  “I bet she got laid last night.” The eyebrows on both ladies’ faces lift and they wait for my answer.

My
smile confirms Eileen’s accusation.

“Well it’s about time,” she says
. “I thought you gave up sex after you finally dumped that waste of an ex-husband of yours, Dr. Ruinator.” Her slender body leans over the nurse’s station counter. “So, spill,” she demands. “Is he cute? How is he in bed? Does he like to do anything crazy?”

“Eileen, I’m not going to
share that information.” I turn my back toward her so she doesn’t see me as I turn a darker shade of red. Then I pretend to look over the night report from the previous shift.

“Hear that, Gladys? He’s
good in bed.” Eileen winks at the larger woman.

“Oh, I bet he is,” Gladys adds
. “She wouldn’t be grinnin’ that wide if he wasn’t.”

Eileen continues
her interrogation, despite the fact that I’m not answering any of her questions. “How long have you known him and why haven’t you told us about him before? What does he do for a living? Is he blonde or brunette? Or is he a redhead? Ooh, those redheads are hot, Gladys.” She looks at the oversized, black woman, who is nodding in agreement. “I bet he has a nice ass.” She places her hand on Gladys’s arm. “You know she checks out their buns, Gladys, right? I’ve seen her eyeballing some of those fine, young residents who are new to the rotation.”

Gladys purses
her lips together, “Mmmmm-hmmmm.”

“I’m not
telling the two of you anything,” I say, but from the heat in my cheeks they already know too much.

“
Oh, yes you will. I’ll get some information out of you before the day is over.” A confident smile spreads across Eileen’s face as she picks up a chart, and heads toward the patient behind the first curtain. “C’mon, Mrs. Simmons. I’m going to have an orderly transfer you to maternity.”

“You know she won’t let up until you give he
r some details,” Gladys says.

“I know Gladys, but it all happened so quickly. I’m not even sure if it’s real.”

Gladys looks at the chart in her hand. “Okay, well Mr. Wilmington, behind curtain seven,
is
real. Go find out what’s bothering him.” She hands me the chart and I begin my shift.

When I finish transferring my caseload to the evening nurse,
I race home. During the twenty-minute car ride I think about Dylan. The pounding in my chest intensifies and my anticipation builds. I pull into my driveway at 3:30. There’s a note taped to my door. “Willing to massage your feet if you come over. –D.”

Something inside me pulsates. I jump into
the shower to wash the hospital smell off me as quickly as I can. In a clean tee shirt and shorts, I practically run to Dylan’s house. I don’t even knock; he yanks open the door. He’s in tight jeans and a tee shirt. He’s absolutely scrumptious. Every tendon in my body tightens. With one strong arm, he seizes me by the waist and pulls me toward him. His assertive, soft lips greet me as if he’s a starving man given a hamburger. Electricity rushes through me as I return the fervor.

S
till floating from the effects of his touch, he brushes my cheek with his hand. “I missed you,” he whispers. A tidal wave crests and I press my body harder against his.

He pulls me into the house and
closes the door. Then he kisses me again.

I can’t wait.
I reach to unsecure his pants. He doesn’t protest. We paw at each other removing bits of clothing until we are both undressed. His body feels incredible against mine. He quivers slightly as my hands wander over his strong chest. I roam lower. When I find my prize I take hold. Despite the velvety smoothness of his skin, he is firm. The urgency of my touch causes him to convulse. A low moan escapes from him. My body reacts as well. His eyes plead with me as I stroke him with slow, gentle movements.

His breathing is rapid, eyes closed.
“I can’t hold back,” he whispers.

“Then don’t,” I say
. And he lets go.

He
looks down when he’s finished. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”
             

“I can usually hold off much longer than that, but I was thinking about you all day and then when you walked in… your smell, your touch, just you.”

I look down and see he’s ready again.
That was fast
.

“Now it’s my turn.”

My face twists with confusion.

He offers me a seat on the couch then sits next to me.
Starting at my fingertips, he plants butterfly kisses between each finger. Goose bumps trail fervent lips as they travel up my arm and across the front of my shoulder. He continues across my collarbone to the hollow of my neck. Continuing down my sternum to my stomach. My breath hitches. He circles my navel with his tongue. The warm, wet sensation adds to the heat that continues to take over my body. I moan.

He
abandons my middle and jumps to the inside of my thigh.  Little nibbles outline the inner curve. I groan and arch my back. My pulse quickens. Every appendage in my body is pulsing. He moves to the other thigh.

His
tongue snakes up to the region between my thighs. It caresses the one place that is throbbing for his attention. My insides burn like a volcano. He flicks and sucks as the intensity builds. I claw the cushions. I can’t control it any longer.

Multiple waves send
me into frenzy. A long groan tells him what I’m feeling. He doesn’t stop until I erupt.  But I’m not done. I need him inside me – now! I grab his arms and pull him on top of me. I place him where I need him to be. He’s more than happy to oblige. His hips make fast work of bringing me back to my crest. My hands pull on his shoulders. He slams into me twice and I come undone. I clench around him and it fuels him. His hips swivel and it’s more intense. I build again, this time faster. I grip his shoulders and come again. With one last thrust, he stills and silently releases.

I need
another shower when we’re done. As the water cascades down my back I think about how fast everything is moving.
This isn’t right. Should we even be in a relationship? Is this a relationship? It’s really only been sex. What if this is all over in a week?
I think about how Dylan said he missed me.
So what? This is fantastic. And we haven’t had sex in… forever. And, he’s soooooo good at it.

In only a towel, I rummage through his drawers. I pick
one of his tee shirts and walk down to the kitchen.

“I love how you fill out my shirts.” He
plants a small, chaste kiss on my lips.

“And
I love how you fill me,” I say, looking away to hide my blush.

A big grin stretches
across his face. “I made pasta for dinner. Is that okay?”

“I don’t care what you mak
e for dinner. I’d like to skip right to the dessert.”

His perfect smile appears. He holds out a chair as I si
t at the table. Then he arranges two plates of pasta and serves me.

If I don’t keep the conversation civil, I won’t get to the pasta until it’s cold.
“So what did you do today while I was at work?” I ask.

“
You mean trying not to think of you?” I feel my cheeks warm at his comment and look away. “I put more stuff away and I painted the bedroom. Tomorrow, I’ll move on to the two smaller rooms upstairs. I’m hoping to get the living room finished on Friday. Eventually, I’m going to retile the bathrooms but they can stay the way they are for now, as long as they’re clean. I have to go back to work on Monday, so I’d like to get as much as I can done before then.”

“
I can help on Sunday,” I offer. “I work four on, three off.”

“I don’t want to take you away from anything.”

He’s joking right?
“Up until you moved in a few days ago, my idea of a good time was laundry in the morning, mopping the kitchen floor before a walk to the pizza place mid-day, and flipping through television channels by eight o’clock at night. Besides, I want to help. Then I can be near you.” I lean over the table and place a small kiss on his nose.

“Thanks. That would be great
. I want to be near you, too.”

During our meal, we talk more about plans for his house. A
fterward, I wash the dishes and he dries. The sun begins its decent into the horizon.

Exhausted from a full day of work, and a half-day of intense play, Dylan and I cuddle
on the couch in front of the television set for a few hours. It feels so nice, so relaxed; something I hadn’t been in quite some time. I think about how different this relationship is starting then the one I had come out of. Greg never cuddled, not even before we got married. He’d never watch television with me or ask about my day. Instead, he’d go on and on about how he used his amazing-ness to save many, many humans who were under his care.
Man, I’m glad Dylan isn’t selfish like that.

During commercials Dylan and I
share more about things we like and don’t like. Even though I have only known him for a few short days, I now know more about him than I ever did about Greg. I’m comfortable with him, and he seems comfortable with me. I’d never had this kind of perfection before, not with any of the guys I dated, and certainly not with Greg.

My paranoia is back to sabotage it.
What’s wrong with him? I bet he has some dark secret he isn’t sharing. Once you find out, you’ll have to move because you won’t be able to look at him.

Twelve

Thursday morning, I wa
ke up in my own bed. It feels lonely without Dylan next to me, but I remember that I told him I needed to get one good night’s sleep. Although reluctant, he agreed. After taking care of the necessities, I start my regular morning routine, but I feel much better than normal.

“Another
interesting night?” Gladys asks over her bifocals.

My wide smile
betrays me. It’s the only hint I offer before I shift to business. “Is Eileen off today?”

“Yeah. Sandra is on.”

Sandra is the newest CNA in our rotation. She’s a tall, thin, Asian girl with long, shiny, black hair that stops just above her waist. She always wears it back in a clip at the base of her neck. She doesn’t need make-up because she is naturally stunning, with high cheekbones and large, almond-shaped eyes. Patients adore her bedside manner, particularly the male patients of every age.

Sandra i
s eager to learn, very obedient, and has an uncanny ability to remember everything she’s told. There is no doubt in my mind that she’ll be an incredible nurse one day. Even the doctors love being with Sandra, including my ex-husband, Greg. He finds every opportunity to appear in the ER to flirt with her.

My thoughts race
back to last year. I had run into Greg in the staff cafeteria. I agreed to sit with him so that he’d be more inclined to sign the divorce papers. He’d been giving me a hard time, saying that he didn’t want me to leave him. I knew I couldn’t trust him and it made my skin crawl to be legally bound to such a dirt bag.

“What is it about her that has ev
eryone under her spell?” I asked him.             

“
She’s a male fantasy,” he said. “You know, a helpless Asian girl, submissive in all aspects, trying to please the dominant male.”

Sandra walks over to the nurse’s station
, breaking my recollection of Greg’s male chauvinistic stupidity. She places her purse in the bottom drawer of my desk. I don’t mind. I actually like Sandra.

“Good mor
ning, Sandra,” Gladys and I say in unison.

Sandra bows and averts
her eyes. “Good morning.” She begins her task immediately. She’s a no nonsense girl.

The morning proceeds
as usual. I read all the charts of the patients that have been admitted to the ER during the night shift and speak with the previous RN so she can bring me up to speed on who is still in the ER. Then I visit each patient and ask if they need anything.

By lunchtime,
everything has quieted down. There are only five patients waiting for test results or to see a specialist.

“I’m going to run to the ca
feteria while it’s slow,” I tell Gladys. “Want anything?”

“Can you just bring me back a banana? I have yogurt and I need
to kill the taste.” She laughs.

Of course I
have to run into Greg while in the cafeteria. The man has an incredible knack for knowing when I’ll be in there, no matter how irregular that is. His broad build and muscular features compliment his handsome face and dark hair. Even the four o’clock shadow he dons these days looks good on him. Too bad he’s such a lying, cheating bastard. He’d be quite a catch if he wasn’t such a prick.

“Hey, Mel,” he says
.

“Greg.”

“How’s it going in the ER
?” Ironic that he uses the same line on me the first time he hit on me. Back then I didn’t know he hit on everyone in the hospital. I was too overwhelmed with his good looks and charming compliments to notice the whispered warnings from other female staff members.

Is
this his attempt at small talk? “Fine. How’s cardiology?”

“Beating just fine
.” Greg always uses some witty saying associated with his area of expertise. It’s his way of starting the conversation talking about himself, the great and mighty heart surgeon.

He slid
es his tray behind mine as I get on line for the cashier. “Say, Chuck and his wife are having a barbecue on Sunday. It’s just some of us from the department. Wanna come for old time sake?” Greg suffers from the delusion that every woman wants him, including me. He is sadly mistaken, at least in my case. I couldn’t wait to get rid of him once I found out about how he was testing his theory with every woman he could get into bed during our marriage.

“Ah,
no!”

“C’mon, Mel. You know I can’t go alone.”

“Thanks for the invitation, Greg, but I’m busy.”

He laughs.
“Busy? Yeah, right. Doing what? You don’t have a social life, Mel.”

“I’m helping a friend paint.”

Greg moves closer and his voice is low. “Oh, Mel. That sounds hot; two girls getting paint all over each other. Then you have to take a shower and scrub each other down. Maybe I should come with you. I can hold the soap and watch.”

Gre
g’s dirty mind never ceases to amaze me. He’s always thinking about some sexual situation, preferably where he’s the center of attention. I roll my eyes at his smug expression. And although he doesn’t deserve an explanation, I clarify for him. “I’m helping my new boyfriend paint his bedroom.” Greg’s face morphs into a serious stare. “But you know, Greg, thanks for the good idea. Maybe I’ll have to paint him so we can shower together. He likes it when I soap up his rather large…brush.” I say it so he understands the innuendo. “I’m sure it will take a lot of soap. He’s gifted in ways that you aren’t.”
There, take that, asshole.
“Thanks again for the idea, Greg. Have fun at the barbecue.”  I pay the cashier and lift my tray before flipping my blonde ponytail in his direction. A quick glance behind me shows Greg standing in the middle of the cafeteria wearing an astonished glare.

I slam
the tray down on the counter in the ER. Only Gladys’s eyes move up over her bifocals, away from the chart she’s reviewing. “Run into Greg?”

“He’s such an asshole.”
I try to whisper so the patients don’t hear.

“Don’t let him bother you
, honey. He’s just a little boy who throws a tantrum if he doesn’t get his way. You know he has statues erected in his honor in his own head.”

“It’s just that he’s still trying to control me. He thinks he can call me to join him for social functions when his bimbos aren’t available. He hates to be seen without a girl next to him, or with the possibility that he won’t get laid.”

“Don’t let him get to you,” Gladys says, handing me a chart.

I know she’s trying to refocus me so that I’ll forget about what just happened, but I’m
too upset by Greg to concentrate. I excuse myself to the nurse’s lounge down the hall. I take a cup from the miniature sink that’s in there and pour a small amount of water from the cooler. After a sip and a deep breath, I pour the rest down the drain. Then I square my shoulders and head back out toward Gladys. I’m fine after that.

Mid-way through my shift, Greg
shows up in the ER. He’s all business. I’m sure he doesn’t want to rehash the encounter from the cafeteria earlier. “You have a patient who came in complaining of chest pains.”

“That would be Mr. Vargas,”
I say in my professional nurse’s voice. “Right this way.”

Greg
pulls the chart from my hand and follows me to the curtain where Mr. Vargas is laying on the gurney.

“Mr. Vargas, this is Dr. Lampert. He’s the cardiologist who
will be examining you.”

Greg wipes the end of his
stethoscope on his crisp, white lab coat. Without regard for Mr. Vargas, he places it on the older man’s chest. He listens for a while. I know not to make a sound while he’s in doctor-mode. Greg once scolded another nurse for sneezing, saying she “interrupting his attention to the greatest organ in the human body.” Odd that he regards the heart so fiercely, being that he doesn’t have one.

When Greg
is satisfied, he grabs Mr. Vargas’s wrist in his hand and checks his pulse. He examines the EKG and blood test results from when the EMTs brought him. He compares them to the results I’ve been gathering since Mr. Vargas came into the ER. Then he engages in the regular question and answer volley that doctors do to gather more information.

Upon c
ompletion of the exam, Greg says, “Okay, send him upstairs.” Then he walks to the nurse’s desk to fill out some paperwork to complete the request.

I
help Mr. Vargas back into his hospital gown as I explain that he’ll be moving up to the cardiology floor so they can run some more tests and monitor his condition. “I’ll be right back with your paperwork and an orderly will come to take you upstairs.” Mr. Vargas smiles and thanks me.

At the nurse’s desk, Greg quickl
y drops his business-like demeanor. “So when’d you get a boyfriend, Mel?”

“That’s none of your business, Greg.”

“Well, you are my wife. I think I have a right to know.”

“I’m your EX-wife and you aren’t entitled to know anything about me. Just like I didn’t know anything about any of the girlfriends you had while we were married. The only difference is, I’m no
t committing adultery.” I sign off on the paperwork and then step away to find John, one of the ER orderlies, to transfer Mr. Vargas.

As I walk
back to the nurse’s desk, I see Greg flirting with Sandra. It wasn’t unusual for someone to be flirting with Sandra, or that Greg was the one doing the flirting. When he realizes I’m there, he lifts his hand to Sandra’s cheek and gives it a light stroke. For some reason, he thinks it bothers me. Actually, I don’t care what he does any more. When I get closer, he raises his voice so I can hear him put the moves on Sandra.

“So, I’ll pick you up
at seven on Saturday. I have a reservation for seven thirty. Sunday is a barbecue so bring something comfortable to wear.”

Sandra nods and smiles. She’
s reeled in by Greg’s good looks, charm, and doctor status. A twinge of sympathy flashes through me, but it dissipates quickly. It’s none of my business. I’m sure Greg doesn’t care who he takes to the barbecue, it’s the possibility of him getting laid somewhere in the day that motivates him. I know he chose Sandra because he thinks it bothers me, or maybe it’s his fantasy about the submissive Asian woman. Either way, I don’t care.

Greg gives
Sandra a small kiss on the side of her cheek. The only thing I think of is how unprofessional he’s behaving
.

Sandra
blushes and returns to her chore. Greg saunters to the elevator bank, presses the button, and waits. His immature behavior indicates that he thinks he’s fantastic. He turns to face me. I know it’s just to annoy me. I can’t let him know it’s working but not because he’s ensnaring poor, naive Sandra; it’s because he repulses me so much.

My attitude changes
from pissed to elated when I see Dylan walk into the ER.

He scans the
large, open room with his smoldering brown eyes. My heart speeds up and I wish he could detect it to find me. Then his eyes lock on mine. It feels as if the temperature in the room increases ten degrees. In a worn tee shirt, ripped jeans and heavy work boots, his long, urgent strides have him in front of me within seconds. He smiles. I smile back. Everyone else in the room melts away. He grabs me around the waist and pulls me toward him. And then he gives me the most amazing, passionate kiss I’d ever had. My mind floats away to some magical world as my arms circle his neck.

When our kiss ends, he whispers,
“I missed you.” I gently float back to Earth.

Gladys i
s close enough to hear. “Ooooo-eeee! It sure seems that way,” she says.

As if someone
has pumped me full of air, I smile and say in a breathy voice, “I missed you, too.”

The elevator doors open but Greg doesn’t get in. He waits and watches
.

“I know you don’t get off for another hour, but I just couldn’t be away from you any mor
e.” His deep brown eyes search mine. “You said I could visit.”

I smile
.

“Ah
hem,” Gladys interrupts. Then I remember where I am.

“Oh, sorry.
” I back away from Dylan. “Gladys this is Dylan. Dylan, Gladys, the other nurse that works the ER with me.”

Dylan
reaches over the counter to shake Gladys’s beefy hand. Sandra walks over and I introduce her as well. Dylan seems unimpressed by Sandra. That makes me happy.

Like a
cat slinking up to rub against its master’s leg, Greg appears at the nurse’s desk. He pushes his hand in front of Dylan. “Dr. Gregory Lampert.” He emphasizes the word ‘doctor.’

Dylan
regards Greg up and down before taking his hand to shake. “Dylan Townsend. Oh, you must be Melissa’s ex.”

Greg scrutinizes
Dylan up and down, too, with distaste. After his assessment, he turns to me. “Going for the more rugged types these days, eh Mel?”