Serendipity (7 page)

He doesn’t say anything which is probably a good thing. We could probably go at it all day and nothing would get solved. The driver’s door creaks as it opens, breaking the silence. Mr. Montgomery holds on to the small bar and lifts himself inside with a grunt. Emily looks into the back seat and shifts her glaze between me and Dean with a satisfied smile across her face.

“All right kiddos, let’s get home.” She claps her hands in excitement—a bit like a four year old.

It’s far too late for someone to be this cheery. I glance at Dean and look him up and down, without trying to be too obvious. Devon had told me that they had been close at one point, but that it had ended a year ago. If it weren’t for his accent making my ears bleed, he might actually be cute. Most of the locals have an accent, but there’s something about the way he talks. His deep, baritone voice echoes every time he speaks, and it’s quite annoying.

He takes off his ball cap and runs a hand through his brown hair that lays flat against his head. He fingers the hem of his shirt and whips the light, cotton fabric over his head. His scent of him fills the cab—he smells like pure man and the outdoors. It’s a rugged and natural smell that instantly appeals to my senses and it makes my stomach clench and my mouth go dry. It’s been a while since I’ve been affected by a man but seeing the moonlight shines through the window and outline his chiseled chest does something to me. I quickly turn away when he glances my way and look out the window.

I rest my head against the soft seat and close my eyes. This is the most comfortable I’ve been all day. Every now and then, the scent of Dean fills my nostrils as I drift off to sleep.

I wake to the slamming of car doors. My eyes flutter open and I feel of strong, warm, and calloused hands wrap around me, pulling me from my sleepy haze.

“Shhh, you’re okay. I’m just taking you to bed.”

My eyes pop open. I’d know that voice anywhere now, but only in my nightmares. “Put me down,” I squeal and kick my legs.

Dean chuckles. “Not a chance, Barbie. Quit squirming and you’ll be in the bed in a minute.”

Ignoring my protest, he tightens his grip as he carries me up a white wooden staircase.

Focusing on the task at hand, he kicks the door open with his foot and strides into the room. I glance around and realize that this must be his bedroom. Baseball caps hang on a rack above the headboard and I smile when I notice a Chicago Cubs hat.

Dean pulls back on the dark blue comforter to reveal black sheets. Nothing has looked as comfortable as this bed right now. I’m so tired and in so much pain that I have no doubt I could sleep for days. The stark white walls are littered with shelves holding trophies, medals, and pictures of a young Dean.

He lays me onto the bed and turns on the bedside lamp. I slowly roll onto my side—so that I’m facing away from Dean—my injured hand resting on my hip. I would know the feel of this soft, foam material anywhere, it’s just like the mattress I have. The way it fits the contours of my body, it’s like sleeping on a pile of clouds. I cried when I got to the hotel and, sat on the hard firm mattress, I counted down the days until I’d have my own place, and I could sleep in my own bed.

“Mmmm,” I moan. I’m so comfortable and it’s been a very long day. I could sleep for days.

“You okay there?” Dean asks.

My smile quickly fades. I forgot I wasn’t alone in the room. I roll back onto my bed and wince—moving is proving to be harder than I had anticipated. “Yeah,” I yawn, stretching my stiff body. I glance around for a bathroom but the only door in the room looks like it’s just a closet.

As if he can read my mind, Dean speaks up. “We only have two bedrooms so you’re taking my room. The bathroom is down the hall, first door on your left.”

I’m about to respond, when Emily knocks lightly at the door and peers inside. “Knock, knock.”

She walks into the room with slow strides, glancing at me with a sorrowful look on her face. “Would you like me to help you in the shower?” she asks in a soothing tone.

At this point I don’t care if I’m naked in front of a woman I just met, because I’d do just about anything to wash the hospital scent off of me. I frown when I realize I have nothing to wear to bed, or clothes for tomorrow for that matter.

“I would love a shower but I don’t have anything to change into,” I shrug.

“Oh, Phoebe, we’ll find something for you and the boys will go gather your things tomorrow.” Emily sits on the edge of the bed and pats my knee. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can all finally get some rest.”

Sounds like a grand idea to me. She turns to look at Dean. “Be a gentleman and get the lady some clothes,” she says, pointing in the direction of a large oak dresser.

He stalks over and pulls out a white t-shirt and a pair of cotton boxer shorts. My eyes widen at the thought of wearing his clothes.

“Is there a problem, Bar—Phoebe?” He cocks his head.

“Nope. No problem.” I smile.

Emily takes the clothes out of Dean’s hands and ushers him out of the room. “Goodnight, son. We’ll see you in the morning,” she says, before guiding him out of the room. It’s funny to see her next to Dean because there is such a height difference. She’s shorter than I am—I’m only five-foot-two—and he towers over me.

When he gets in the hallway, he turns to look back in the room and our eyes lock. In that moment, I couldn’t even tell you my own name—the only thing I see is his dark brown eyes as they glaze over. The sound of Emily shutting the door breaks me from my trance.

What the hell was that?

“Do I have any pain pills?” I ask her as I sit up and rest against the headboard.

“Yes, the pharmacy at the hospital filled your prescriptions. Keith picked them up before you were discharged.”

She helps me from the bed so I don’t stand too quickly. I drag my feet along the polished wood floors, trying not to move my body too much. Emily takes hold of my hand and leads me down the hall to the bathroom. When we reach the door I’m half expecting her to stay in there with me, so you can imagine my surprise when she turns to leave. “I’m going to get ready for bed myself and then I’ll be back for you lickety-split.” Her chocolate-brown eyes dance as she laughs at her own saying.

Who says lickety-split anymore?

“Okay, I’ll try to hurry,” I slide off my sandals and wait until she’s gone to completely undressed.

I step into the shower carefully, making sure to hold my brace away from the water—something that is harder than anticipated. The teat from the water soothes my sore muscles, I stand under the spray and watch the remnants of my completely shitty day, wash down the drain.

I search for the shampoo, reaching for it, I notice it’s for men and has a musky smell to it and the body wash matches, I roll my eyes and groan. Squirting some shampoo into my hair, I set the bottle down and lather it in. Just one more day and I will have my things here with me—my clothes, my perfume, my shampoo… everything. I feel like I’m encroaching upon Dean’s life but I shouldn’t let that get to me. After all, it’s his fault I’m here.

I hear a rustling in the bathroom, and I pull the curtain aside to see Emily setting a towel on the toilet seat and opening a new toothbrush for me. She opens up the plastic wrapping and squeezes some toothpaste onto the bristles. I smile, awkwardly when she hands it to me. Why is this woman in the bathroom with me? I get that she wants to help me but this is just… weird.

“Are you almost done in there, Phoebe?” Emily calls out. Her hair is pulled back into a bun on the top of her head with pieces falling around her face, and her pajamas hang off of her thin body.

The water is starting to cool down but I want to wait till she leaves to turn off the water.

“Well, are you going to come out or stay in there all night?” Emily asks.

Does this lady want me to just open the curtain and let her see me naked? She’s got to be insane! I don’t think even my mom has seen me naked for…well, a long time.

“Could you just pass me the towel please?” I turn the water off and stare at the small opening between the curtain and the shower wall, waiting for her to extend her hand and pass me the towel.

“Phoebe, just come out. It’s not like you have something I’ve never seen before.” Her frustrated tone lets me know that she’s not giving in but neither am I. When I don’t budge, she signs and passes the towel to me and I hear the bathroom door close. I understand that she wants to be helpful—after all, I’m only here because of her son—but there is no way on God’s green earth I’m going to let her see me naked.

I sigh with relief and step out of the shower and, wrapped in only in a towel, I open the bathroom door to see Emily leaning against the banister, waiting for me. She holds my elbow and slowly guides me back into the bedroom. The warm water has done wonders for my aching body, but my head is pounding. I glance at the clock and notice that it’s nearly two in the morning. I sit on the bed, and my eyes start to drift close.

“We’ve got to get you dressed before you fall asleep.” My eyes flutter open when I remember I’m not alone. I don’t know if it’s my drugs or that I’m just that tired, but I suddenly can’t keep my eyes open for another moment.

Emily helps me slide the boxers on under the towel and the shirt over top. I slide the towel out from under the shirt and hand it to her before getting into bed.

“I’m going to wash your clothes tomorrow for you. I’m sure you’re exhausted, and more than likely, the boys will have your things from the hotel for you first thing in the morning,” she pauses and sits on the bed next to me as I get under the covers. “Should they clean out your hotel room, dear? They can bring everything here and you can stay in Dean’s room until you find a place.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s fine, really. It’s only nine days and then I’ll be as good as new.” I stifle a yawn and try to keep my eyes open.

“Phoebe, I know this can’t be easy on you. In a new state, looking forward to a new job, and meeting new people. It can all be overwhelming. I feel horrible about the accident but at the same time I’m glad it brought you here. You seem like a sweet girl who’s just trying to find her way. Let us help you. I’m home all day and I can get you whatever you may need. Not to mention, it will be nice having some more estrogen in the house, even if it is just for a week,” she chuckles.

“Nine days,” I mutter under my breath.

“I beg your pardon?” She asks, uncrossing and crossing her legs, giving me a puzzled look.

“I said, nine days. You said ‘even if it is just for a week’ and I said nine days.”

She smiles and waves her hand back and forth, almost as if she’s dismissing my comment. “A week, nine days, there’s no real difference.” She stands from the bed and walks over to the bedside lamp. Pulling the covers up to my chin, she tucks me in, making me feel like a toddler.
Is she going to read me a bedtime story too?!

I furrow my brows but she ignores me, switching off the light and saying goodnight as she starts to walk out.

Thoughts of my father come rushing in, flooding my memory with a man I haven’t seen in years—a man that I rarely have time to think about. A man who was taken from me all too soon.

“Oh, Phoebe, are you okay?” Emily asks, hovering over me. The light from the hallway, just outside of the room outlines her silhouette.

For a second I’m confused, but then I feel the dampness on my cheeks. I quickly brush back the tears and smile. I don’t remember the last time I cried for my father. He used to tuck me in every night with my mom by his side and then he would sit on my bed and read me a story. That was our time together and I looked forward to it every night. Unconsciously, I rub the silver locket around my neck with my thumb and finger. Before the move, I didn’t want to chance losing the only physical thing I have left of him so I put it on for the first time in a long time.

“I’m fine.” I nod in an attempt to assure her everything is okay.

People back home aren’t like this. Why is she being so nice to me when she doesn’t even know me? It’s late and it’s been an exhausting day. The only thing I want to do is close my eyes, and wake up to find this whole day was just a nightmare.

I lie on the couch in the den and stare up at the ceiling, reflecting on the day. The house is quiet, though I can still here movement upstairs. After we got home, I carried Barbie up to my room. The feeling of her resting against my bare chest before she flipped out was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Then to see her on my bed—damn, she looked good there.