Beautiful Life: The Carpino Series (4 page)

As I am buckling up, my phone rings.  “Hey, Paige,” I answer.

“Hey yourself.  Look, we never did junk food and a movie marathon, how about tonight?  I’ll bring the junk food and Gabby’s got a million movies to choose from.  I know she and Jude are in Colorado, we can hang out and you won’t have to be by yourself.  How about it?”

Honestly.  The Carpinos are the nicest people ever. 

“That’s Paige?” Tony asks.

“Yeah,” I answer, back to Tony.

“Is that my brother?  What are you doing with him?” Paige asks.

“We’re leaving the mall,” I answer, back to Paige.

“Tony hates the mall,” she states.

“What does she want?” Tony interrupts again.

“She wants to do junk food and movies,” I answer, back to Tony.

“Did you eat mall food?” Paige asks further.

“Well, yeah,” I answer, back to Paige.

“Tell her only if she makes more pumpkin cookies,” Tony says.

“Tell him I don’t have time to make pumpkin cookies, the batter has to chill,” Paige answers Tony.

“Should I let you two speak to one another?” I ask both of them simultaneously.

“NO!” they both say ardently
and
simultaneously. 

“Okay,” I sigh.  “Paige, movies sound good, but I’m not hungry.  I’ve had enough junk food to last a year.  Tony will drop me off at Gabby’s, we should be there soon.”

“Give me the phone,” Tony says with his hand out to me.

I frown as I hear Paige groan at her brother’s request, “Here, Tony changed his mind.  He wants to talk to you.”

Tony takes the phone as he navigates our way through the crazy after Thanksgiving traffic, “I’m not dropping her off.  I’m staying for movies, bring whatever junk food you had planned.  And I’ll pay you forty dollars for more pumpkin cookies, but you have to make them tomorrow.”  He pauses and then adds frustratingly so, “Fine.  Fifty.  But I want the whole batch.”

And then, just like that, he hangs up on his sister without saying goodbye. 

“Tony, I can’t eat more junk food and I can’t believe you’re going to pay her for pumpkin cookies.”

“Paige’s idea of junk food isn’t really junk food.  Trust me on this.  You’ll thank me later.”

“All right, but you really can drop me off.  You don’t need to stay.  You’ve already spent a good chunk of your day with me and it’s your day off,” I say, trying to let him off the hook.

“I could watch a movie,” he answers.

“But I feel bad.  You all don’t need to babysit me.  Gabby has an alarm, I’ll be fine.”

Tony reaches out to grab my hand and firmly but gently, threads our fingers.  “Gem, I said I could watch a movie,” he repeats, softly this time.

Fine.  If he doesn’t have anything better to do than torture me, so be it.  I pull on my hand only to feel his grip harden, holding it to the console while throwing me a soft smile.  I sigh, lean back in my seat and watch the traffic move as we make our way back to Gabby’s house for more junk food and a movie marathon. 

All the while letting Tony hold my hand.

*****

I can’t move. 

For two reasons. 

One:  I’m stuffed.  Tony was right, Paige’s junk food isn’t normal junk food.  She made a layered hummus dip with pita chips, miniature baked ham and cheese buttery biscuit sandwiches and a jalapeno jelly she made herself and dumped it over cream cheese to spread on crackers.  She told me she considers it junk food because it lacks fruits and vegetables.  I guess she didn’t consider the chopped tomatoes, cucumbers and onions on the layered hummus dip, but I wasn’t going to be the one to point the nutritional value of her junk food. 

And two:  I started out on one end of Gabby’s big sectional snuggled in with a toss pillow at the beginning of our movie marathon.  Paige stretched out on the other end.  That left the middle for Tony.  But instead of taking the middle like a normal person would have done, he decided to torture me further and came straight to me picking up my legs to plop himself down where he tucked his hip right into my bottom.  Then he slouched in his seat to prop his long legs on the coffee table with my legs draped over him.  I immediately tried to sit up and yank my legs away, but he held on tight not allowing me to move.  “Tony!” I yelled.  “Leigh,” he drawled back, sort of lazy-like.  I glared at him.  He smiled back at me.  I looked over at Paige who was watching the entire exchange while raising an eyebrow at me in question.  I gave my head a tiny shake and sighed.  Then I turned to the TV and tried to get as comfortable as I could, which really wasn’t hard since it was pretty comfortable stretched out with my legs draped over his lap.  It was even more comfortable when he would randomly run his hands over my legs and feet, a touch so light but significant, I felt it down to my bones. 

Pure torture. 

But I decided not to think about that at the moment.

This was all after the big decision of what to watch.  Watching Tony and Paige duke it out over our viewing selection was interesting to say the least.  I’ve never had much of an adult relationship with my sister and we never got along as kids, degenerating into a miserable relationship as teenagers.  It all started with Paige going through Gabby’s collection of eighties movies she collected during her eighties phase.  Paige insisted we watch Breakfast Club.  Tony said he was absolutely not watching a Brat Pack movie and suggested the Bourne Trilogy.  Paige threw me under the bus and said there was no way I would want to watch anything violent.  I mean, really.  Everyone knows Jason Bourne is the bomb, but I didn’t get to express this because Paige suggested the entire Star Wars collection to which Tony said, “No fucking way.  You recite every line out loud and it’s obnoxious.  Just because you’re the size of Yoda doesn’t make you a Jedi and the master of all things Star Wars.” 

Turning back to study the library of movies, Paige all of a sudden screams and says, “Sex in the City!  Gabby has the whole series, if we start tonight, I bet we can finish by Christmas.  Gabby will be pissed we started without her, but she’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I’m not watching that shit, Paige,” Tony replies, as Paige starts putting in the first disc.

Paige turns around, puts her hand on her hip and with attitude, a-gain, throws me under the bus with, “But it’s Leigh’s favorite.  Ask her.  It will make her happy.”

Tony turns to me, only to raise his eyebrows in question.  My only answer was to tip my head to the side while shrugging my shoulders because Sex in the City is absolutely my favorite.  Those four women are amazing (not to mention a lot naughty) and I wish I could have just a teensy-weensy bit of their amazingness.  Don’t even get me started on their clothes.  But what I say is, “I like Jason Bourne, too.”

Tony grins at me and turns back to Paige to say, “Put it in.”

“Like I needed your permission,” Paige mutters under her breath, but loud enough for us all to hear. 

I breathe a sigh of relief, because really, I didn’t want to see what Paige would have done if he ex-nayed Sex in the City. 

After we finally settled in with Paige’s non-junk-food-junk-food with Tony torturing my legs and feet, I got lost in the dramas and humor of four amazing characters.  In the middle of the fourth episode, comfort and food took over and I drifted off.  I vaguely hear Paige whispering a goodbye and leaving.  That’s when I feel Tony’s hand gently on my neck and his lips at my ear whispering, “Sweetheart.  Get up and go to bed.”

I blink my eyes open to see Tony’s face close to mine.  Somehow my bottom is tucked in even tighter to his side and I’m lying in an “S” with my legs still draped over him, but now he’s leaning over me.  He somehow stands up, pulling me with him and before I know it in my semi-consciousness, Tony pulls me into his arms.  With one around my lower back, the other hand goes into my hair and his lips come to my forehead.  My arms are squished between us, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel how amazing his big strong arms feel wrapped around me. 

My fingers grip his shirt as he kisses my forehead whispering there, “Go to bed, Leigh.  I’ll let the dog out and lock up the house.”

I lift my head and look into his almost back eyes.  I need to let him know what today has meant to me.  Smiling and laughing on a day that should have been long and depressing from recent terrible memories is something I hadn’t expected.  He gave me that, even though I can’t let myself think about why he gave me that.  I don’t need another man in my life now, maybe never.  I know I’m being selfish letting Tony torture me in all his wonderful ways but I can’t make him stop.  I’m too weak, just like I was too weak to leave Preston after years of abuse.  I’m one hundred percent sure I would have gone back to Preston had Gabby not personally removed me from my living hell.  I used to think of myself as a strong person, but not anymore.  As much as I know I should push Tony away I can’t.  It feels too good right now when there’s nothing good in my life to feel. 

I look into his deep dark eyes with his lush hair falling to his forehead where he’s looking back down at me and I say, “Thank you for today, Tony.”  I might be weak but I’m not stupid.  I know I need to get out of his arms, no matter how wonderful they feel and add, “Can you set the alarm when you leave?”

Tony looks down at me a beat and states, “I’ll set the alarm.  Go to bed.”  He kisses my forehead one more time and letting me go, gives me a nudge toward my room.  I get ready for bed, hear the beeps of the alarm as Mia finds me and jumps up to cuddle in for the night.  I tuck in as tight as I can, thinking of nothing but the caress I feel in my soul when Tony touches me gently in any way.  I’ve never felt a touch like it in my life.  Ever.  So I hang on to the feel of his caress on my soul as I start to drift off again, my body needing sleep but my mind dreading it knowing what it will likely bring.

*****

I jerk awake on the sofa, a noise waking me from somewhere in the house.  Grabbing my phone off the coffee table, I see it’s a bit after three in the morning.  I think it’s coming from Leigh’s room so I throw off my blanket to go to her.  With the hall light on, I crack the door to see her curled up, jerking and whimpering, but not quite crying. 

I go to the side of her bed, lightly put my hand to her arm and whisper her name to try and wake her up, “Leigh?”

Her whole body wracks with shock at my touch and she pulls away shrieking, “Stop!  No, stop!” 

Shit.  I lean away from her with my palms out to show her I’m not going to touch her. 

“It’s me,” I whisper.  She’s pressed up against the headboard now, breathing hard trying to get her bearings with Mia jumping around the bed trying to get in her face.  “Sweetheart, you were dreaming.  You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers through labored breaths.  Her emerald eyes come to mine and with realization she gives her head a little shake, asking, “What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want you to be by yourself, I slept on the sofa,” I inch toward her a little.  “Are you okay?”

“You heard me?” she asks frowning.

“Gem, you were almost crying in your sleep.  Yeah, I heard you.”

“Shit,” she mutters. 

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she says.  Looking up at me she asks again, “Why did you stay?”

Taking a chance since I can tell she’s getting a handle on it, I move even closer where our hips are touching and put my hands up to cup her face.  Ignoring her question, I ask softly, “What were you dreaming about?”

She jerks slightly then closes her eyes at my touch.  Shaking her head a bit she lies, “Nothing.”

Raising my voice to a normal level I respond, “That was not nothing.”

Looking up at me, she lies again, “I don’t even remember.”

I narrow my eyes at her, “You should talk about it.”

“I want to go back to sleep.”

I sigh, wanting to push her but don’t know what’s safe at this point.  I try pushing another way, “Do you want me to stay with you?  I’ll sit here until you go to sleep.”

“What?  No!” she lets out quickly.  “Sometimes I…well…it can take a while to go back to sleep.  You should go back to the sofa.  Really you should go home, I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not going home.  Lay down, I’ll sit here until you go back to sleep.”

“No.  I’m fine.”

Mia is still jumping around the bed. I work with what I have and say with finality, “Leigh.  You’re freaking the dog out.  Lay down.”

Leigh frowns at me through the dim light from the hallway, but then, as if she realizes I’m here for the first time she drags her eyes over my bare chest and down to my jeans.  Then slowly, her gaze comes back up to my face but not my eyes, more like she’s just taking me in. 

Well, fuck me.  That’s going to try my patience. 

“Gem, lay down and go back to sleep,” my voice comes out rougher this time.

As if she’s snapping out of a daze, she gives her head a little shake again and immediately scoots down in the bed turning her back to me. The dog finally settles in, I take what I can, pressing my hip up to her back and lean down to kiss her soft hair.  I feel her whole body tense but keep on and whisper against her hair, “Sleep.” 

I don’t move away, but start to pull my fingers through her hair, finding myself mesmerized by its weight and softness.  After a few minutes of this, I feel her relax into me but also hear a very audible sigh.  I smile as I keep at her hair.  This takes a while, but I finally feel her body relax even more and hear her breathing even out.  I take myself back to the sofa because if I don’t, I know I’ll crawl in bed behind her.  Throwing myself down on the sofa, I bring the palms of my hands up to rub my eyes. 

She’s having nightmares.  I don’t even know what to do with that.  Pulling my hands through my hair, I look into the darkness toward the ceiling and mutter, “Fucking hell.”

*****

I open the door for the second night in a row, allowing the hall light to invade her room.  Again she’s curled into herself.  Again she’s whimpering.  And again the dog is going crazy.  I go straight to her and this time put my hands to her shoulders and lean in to say, “Gem.  Wake up.”

She startles awake, although she doesn’t seem as surprised to see me tonight.  After another four episodes of Sex in the City, which is about to drive me fucking mad, I kissed her forehead, told her I was staying and pushed her off to bed after she tried to argue with me and I denied her the argument.  I even brought sleep pants so I didn’t have to sleep in jeans and I wasn’t naked if I needed to go to her.  Then I had to make myself tamp down those thoughts and remember my need for patience. 

She grabs onto my arms, like she’s holding on for dear life and wheezes, “I’m sorry.  So sorry.”

I’m a lawyer, not a psychologist.  I have no idea how to take away nightmares.  I decide to be selfish and do what I wanted to do last night.  I yank her up, pull her into my lap and wrap her up in my arms.  She’s tense but I put my hand to the back of her head and stuff her face in my throat while rubbing her back.  She finally relaxes, slumping in my arms.  All the while, the dog is jumping around the bed from the excitement.  I say, “No Mia,” and she sits immediately. 

Finally, I whisper into her hair, “What are you dreaming about, Leigh?”

She tenses again and mumbles against my neck, “I’m sorry I woke you again.  I want to go back to sleep.”

I pull back to look into her eyes and state, “It’s not going to go away if you don’t talk about it.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.  I can’t,” she says in a pained voice.

“Gem, please?”

“No,” she crawls out of my lap to lay back down facing away from me again. 

I sigh, move close to her and do what I did last night.  She settles quicker tonight and finally goes back to sleep. 

Tonight it takes me longer to leave her.  I sit here too long wondering what’s in her head she won’t let out.  Making myself pull away, I finally go back to my spot on the sofa.  Frustrated over what to do with her, I finally go back to sleep. 

*****

The pain is so bad in my tummy and I knew.  The minute I felt his foot there, I knew.  Then the noise starts, the crying.  It’s earsplitting from the echoes in this scary room.  There’s so much blood, it’s everywhere.  I have nowhere to go, nowhere to run.  I’m trapped with the blood and the noise I can’t escape.  As I feel the pain sharpen and start to leak out, I know it’s my fault.  This shouldn’t have happened, but I did it and that’s on me.  I’m the one who caused this and as that realization flows through me the noise gets louder and louder…

“Gem,” I hear in my ear as I push my arms to get away.  “Sweetheart, open your eyes.”

I open my eyes and realize I’m up in Tony’s lap moving in his arms this time.  Shit.  It just won’t stop. 

I can’t help it.  I’ve tried to fight it, but I’m too weak, especially the third night in a row.  He’s wearing me down.  I press into him to get as close as possible.  He senses this and shifts me slightly to pull me in tighter.  I sit here against his bare chest, so big and strong with his beautiful olive skin wrapped around me.  I let myself drink it in.  And I do.  I drink in everything I can because it’s in the middle of the night, I’m weak and I can’t keep the nightmares away that are really just my reality which makes it all worse. 

“Gem--” Tony starts.

I cut him off tonight, “I don’t want to talk about it.”  Then I do what I shouldn’t do, what I didn’t know I could do, and that’s press even closer.  If I could melt into his chest I would. 

I hear and feel Tony sigh, but then he takes me by surprise.  He turns in the bed with me in his lap and falls back, landing on my pillows with me on top of him.  Not stopping, he rolls us to our sides, sits up to flip the covers over us and flops back down.  He proceeds to roll back to his side facing me and yanks me into his big hard chest.  Reaching down he pulls my leg at the back of my knee up and over his hip, stuffs my face in his neck again and holds me tight as he mutters, “Sleep.”

“Tony,” I start, a little breathless from our new position.

“Relax.”

“But--”

“Go to sleep.”

“I don’t think I--”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks me firmly.

I clamp my mouth shut.

“Tell me about your dreams, Leigh,” again with the firmness.

After quickly contemplating my options, I mumble, “I think I’ll go back to sleep.”

He pulls back enough to kiss my forehead and whispers, “All right, sweetheart.  Go to sleep.”

It takes me a while to relax as my mind wanders over all kinds of things.  Like, I’m glad I’m wearing my jammie pants and a tee instead of just my panties and a tee like I usually do.  It’s impossible to not think about being pressed up next to Tony.  His bare chest, big and warm, his long legs tangled with mine.  He feels so good I think I could even let myself forget about my nightmares and the pain I caused over the last few months.  Nothing has ever felt this good before.

I shouldn’t let this happen.  I’ve got to put a stop to this tomorrow.  I’m going to let myself be weak for one more night, let myself have Tony like this for the few hours remaining before the sun comes up.  I can’t kid myself, I’ll still be weak tomorrow, but I can’t let myself be stupid any longer.  Being weak and stupid is worse than just being weak.  Tomorrow is Monday and Gabby and Jude will be back in the morning, Tony can go home.  It doesn’t matter how much I want him, how good he makes me feel, the Tony Torture has to end tomorrow. 

For now I press closer, seep into him and try to memorize every single caress he’s given me.  And I pray I’ll never forget. 

*****

“When are your interviews?”

I look up at Gabby as I’m making lunch at the island in her huge kitchen.  It’s Monday and Gabby is standing in the midst of boxes and storage containers in the process of decorating her home for Christmas.  Since Gabby is a decorator, she doesn’t do anything small and by that I mean she does everything off the charts.  She and Jude flew home early this morning from Colorado.  Jude has his private pilot’s license and they borrow a friend’s plane when the weather is clear to quicken the trip.  I think Jude knew the Christmas decorating was about to commence because he blew through here with their bags at the speed of light and turned to kiss Gabby goodbye to go to work. 

That’s when Gabby wrinkled her nose up at him and asked, “Can’t you carry the trees up?  Just real quick.  Please?”

Jude looks down at her and sighs while shaking his head no and mutters, “Sugar.”  He turns to move to the basement while yelling back at her asking, “Where do they go?”

Gabby turns to give me her grin that says she just got her way before she follows him to give instructions.  Honestly.  They’re super cute together.  Although I would never say that to Jude, I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who would appreciate being referred to as cute.  I’m really happy for them.  They both had a hard road and seem to be very happy together. 

Now it looks like Christmas has exploded in her great room with Gabby at the center of the explosion. I’m making myself a sandwich and Gabby a salad. 

“I have three,” I answer.  “One tomorrow, one on Thursday and one on Friday.” 

“Which one do you want?”

I pull in a breath because I really want to work in my old department, ICU.  I like being assigned a small amount of patients and the focus ICU requires will be good for me.  I won’t be able to let my mind wander to dark places.  I’m looking forward to have something else to focus on. 

“Tomorrow is the ER, which I don’t want.  Thursday is ICU where I worked before and Friday is with a private practice for office work.  I want to go back to ICU, it pays better than the private practice job and the ER is just for backup.”

“I’m glad they have an opening in your old department,” she says as she arranges garland over her mantle.  “It’s all coming together, you know?  Like it’s meant to be.”

I look up from my sandwich and see her standing on her stepstool looking at me with meaning.  Gabby is the best friend I could ever hope for.  She pulled me out of my hell hole with Preston when I felt my weakest and most broken. 

I say quietly, “Yeah, girlie.  Like it’s all meant to be.” 

She smiles at me and then says carefully, “So…can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” I answer, putting our lunches in front of two barstools.  She wanders over to me and we sit down to eat. 

She picks up her fork and pushes her salad around.  Looking up to me, she asks carefully, “What’s up with you and Tony?”

I become completely immobile with a bite of sandwich in my mouth.  Frowning at her, I rudely say with my mouth full, “What do you mean?”

She gives me her knowing look like I know what she means, which I do.  I turn away from her, chew my bite, swallow and answer again, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Looking back at her, I repeat, “Nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.  Even Jude is picking up on it.  And,” she pauses, which makes me look back to her again and her eyebrows are raised when she continues, “Paige called me.”

I blow out a breath because that can’t be good.  Paige has been here for our Sex-in-the-City-Athons every night.  And every night Tony is here, torturing me only the way Tony can, all for Paige to see and apparently inform my BFF. 

“First off, I’m pissed you all started Sex in the City without me, but I’ll just have to jump in and deal with it.  And second, Paige also reports something is going on with you and Tony.  I want to know.  What’s going on?”