Paper Cranes (7 page)

For the first time in my adult life, I had allowed a man to infiltrate into the crevasse of my brain and bury himself into my subconscious.

“You do realize I am emotionally unavailable, right?” I said out of the blue.

“Isn’t everyone? That doesn’t mean I’m not a warm blooded, American man who can’t try.”

“But I have ALS. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” I questioned.

“And?”

“That doesn’t scare you, because it sure as shit scares me,” I fidgeted in my seat.

The moonlight and stars shown through the windshield, casting a comforting glow on his face. His features weren’t sympathetic, but oddly hopeful.

“Not really,” he said with such conviction it was frightening.

“Wait, have you dated women from the support group before?”

“Look, I’m not looking for a relationship, just a date, Dove.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Daniels.”

“You noticed that, huh?”

“I’m pretty observant.”

“That you are.”

“And? Have you, dated anyone from group?”

“One, but she turned out to be loco. I mean, legit crazy.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“I mean, she
is
at St. Andrews psychiatric facility so she is doing pretty good…I’m kidding, Dove. No, I have never dated anyone from group. I’m not a complete tool.”

“So why the notes and the cranes?”

“Can’t a man tell a woman she is beautiful and strong in the most obscure way imaginable? It made you smile didn’t it?”

“I guess it did…”

“See, my job here is done. Besides, I need the business.”

“You asshole,” I stated as I jokingly swatted his arm.

“Watch it killer. I’m trying to drive you home to your shady neighborhood since you still haven’t given me your address.”

I glanced over at Lee, and his chest bounced as he laughed out loud. I just stared at him and how happy he was. Not a care in the world, just happy to be alive.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. Third and Magazine Street,” I said, slouching in my chair, dreading what was the follow.

“You live in the fucking Garden District? And you let me talk trash about it?”

“Technically, you weren’t talking trash and technically I’m just a roommate.”

“It’s still the Garden District, Dove.”

“Duly noted.”

“If you tell me you live in one of those plantation style Victorian homes, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” I cut him off.

“That’s it. You’ve forced my hand. I must know everything about you now, even the dirty stuff.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know the dirty stuff.”

“Now I
need
to know,” he gripped the steering wheel and readjusted himself in the seat.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” I leaned slightly over to whisper in his ear seductively.

I could see his composure change as I was within breathing distance of his ear.

“Uh huh,” he gulped.

“Sometimes, when I’m all alone…”

“Yeah…”

“Sometimes late at night, when I’m lying in bed.”

“Go on…”

“I eat peanut butter, straight out of the jar.”

“Oh come on. Boooo. You gotta give me something better than that,” he begged as I scooted back over to my seat.

“Maybe another time,” I giggled.

“So, should I be worried you live in a big ass mansion?” he grinned through his manicured beard.

“You can’t judge me off of my roommate’s house, or car for that matter. The only reason I live there is the free rent. JoJo, that’s my best friend, her parents are well off. They wanted their baby girl to have nice things.”

“Does she have a job or do her parents pay for that as well?”

“Okay, smart ass. As a matter of fact, she has a great job. She works as a financial analyst for an electronics company.”

“You know what I do, so what do you do?”

“I’m the Marketing Coordinator for the New Orleans Saints football team.”

I hated telling people where I worked, not because I hated it or anything, but because people always treated me differently. It was easy to see who was in for the friendship or who was in it for the free tickets. I just hoped Lee wasn’t one of them.

“Damn balla. Who Dat Nation in the house,” he cheered.

His creole slipped out in full force when he emphasized the ‘D’s’ in his words. It was quite endearing to be honest.

“Too bad Drew Brees isn’t doing shit lately. I bet it would be easier to market the team if they weren’t sucking ass.”

“I can’t tell if you’re a fan or just bitter,” I laughed.

“My whole family has been fans for a long time. We used to have season tickets, but…”

“But what?” I asked curiously.

“Just… family stuff. So, you can’t be a one woman show, what do you do there specifically?”

Lee’s direct dodge of the question had me curious. There was something behind his somber tone, and I wanted to know what.

“I book the talent for pre-show, national anthem, presentation of arms, invocation, pyrotechnics, flyover, press credentials. You know, the usual,” I giggled.

“Man, you’re like top dog over there. I bet you meet celebrities all the time.”

“From time to time.”

“Who was your favorite celebrity to host?”

“Um, probably Bon Jovi. He was pretty damn cool, plus he does a lot for the city of New Orleans and I respect that. Never forget where you came from, that’s what I always say.”

“Have you ever walked onto the field? I’m sure you have.”

“Every game, but it’s always for pre-ceremony reasons.”

“Wow, that is so bad ass. I can now say I know someone who doesn’t suck at life in this city.”

“No suckage here,” I blushed as the words left my lips. Thankfully the dark cab shielded my face.

“I promise I won’t overcharge you just out of spite for your car repairs then.

It was only a matter of seconds before the “dude” in Lee showed up. Asking for tickets and autographs. It was a dead giveaway.

“Wait, why do you have a POS car when you probably make good money?”

“I don’t know; I guess I love the ole’ girl. And thank you in advance for not scamming me.”

“You thought I was going to ask for tickets as compensation, weren’t you? I can see it all over your face,” he grinned.

“Maybe,” I drew out the word.

“I would never do that, Kat. That’s just rude. Besides, I can buy my own ticket. The money will help the stadium and the city, which in turn, helps you. You. Are. Welcome.”

“I’ve never heard it put that way before. Thank you, I think?” I smirked in an odd facial expression.

We had zipped down the vacant side streets so quickly; I hardly realized we were at the house until visions of the Mercedes came into view. Lee parked his truck behind JoJo, and cut the engine leaving us to marinate in the awkward silence.

“I guess I better get inside,” I stated as my hands wrestled with my handbag.

I went to grab the door handle to open the door when Lee jumped out suddenly nearly terrifying me.

“Hold on.”

Racing around the hood, he threw his arms up in the air as if he had just won a gold medal.

“What a weirdo,” I stated under my breath as I laughed into my palm.

Unlike my car, hearing the passenger side door of Lee’s truck open was as silent as a mouse. Lee extended his hand and escorted me to the curb. As we began to walk up the sidewalk, Lee jogged back to the truck where the door was still ajar.

“Just a minute,” he furrowed his brow looking a little embarrassed he had forgotten.

He riffled at the truck for a moment before shutting the door and joining me.

“Sorry, I’m not used to someone riding in the truck with me.”

“I’m not sure I should take that as a compliment or not.”

We climbed the stairs, meandering around the front door. I instantly felt awkward as I waited for Lee to make the first move. Wishing he would just say something, anything.

“I guess I should give you these,” I lifted the key chain to him. Raising the key, my hand shook, sending the key crashing to the ground. Lee and I stared at each other for a good ten seconds contemplating who was going to pick up the key.

I tried to break contact with Lee’s beautiful brown eyes, while squatting to pick up the key. On instinct, Lee bent to collect the key as well. Our heads collided at the same time nearly sending me tumbling to the ground.

Lee clutched my shoulders with an intense grip that sent chills racing across my skin, letting out the breath I hadn’t known I was holding in. As soon as I was upright, we locked eyes. I wanted to believe I wasn’t attracted to Lee, but there was no denying the way my body tingled right now.

“You okay. Sorry about that. I think we both had good intentions, the execution just wasn’t there,” we laughed together.

“I really appreciate the ride home and you taking a look at my car, Lee.”

“It really isn’t a problem.”

We stood at a standstill once again not knowing what to say or how to act. Lee was still clutching my arms even though my footing was nice and secure. Ever so gently, Lee brushed a piece of my brown hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear.

“Beautiful.”

I could feel my cheeks burst into flames as I cut my eyes away from him. The transfixed stare was more than I could take. I could physically feel Lee’s eyes enter my soul; unlocking a safe I had every intention of closing for good. My heart began to hammer in my chest as the tension between us began to build.

Is he going to kiss me? He looks like he’s going to kiss me. Shit, I hope my breath doesn’t smell.

Lee raised his hand to cup my cheek, allowing his thumb to stroke my pink flesh. Even with his coarse fingers, his touch was electrifying. I took a small step forward to eliminate the gap between our bodies. I just wanted, no, I needed to be near this man.

I licked my lips with anticipation in hopes that his lips would find mine. Closing my eyes, I braced myself for the impact, but that’s not at all what I got. Instead, Lee took a step back and held me at arms-length.

I was ashamed, humiliated and delusional to think a man like this, who knew my condition, would want anything to do with me. I felt so incredibly stupid and all I wanted to do was run away. Far, far, away and yet I couldn’t. He had the keys to my car and now I was going to have to see him tomorrow. At least if I was drunk I could blame it on the alcohol, but fuck, I was stone cold sober and had been for years.

How had I read the signs so completely wrong?

“Right, I guess I’ll call you to check on my car tomorrow,” I stated as I did an about face, preparing to bust through the huge mahogany doors. I wanted to run up my stairs, slam the door and listen to Alanis Morrisset or some other angry chick music.

For the first time all night, I was reminded of my disease. Lee had done such a great job of distracting me, but assuming the only reason he didn’t want to kiss me was for that very reason. It shattered me.

Was it always going to be like this? Was I going to have to lie to guys in order to get laid?

I didn’t deserve that kiss, and even if he did give me the kiss, I would have assumed it was forced or even a pity kiss for the sick girl. I don’t deserve to be loved. I don’t deserve a happily ever after either. Lee was doing me a favor by protecting me from heartache. So why was I so angry?

“Kat…”

“What?” I turned to see his outstretched hand with another crane nestled in his palm.

As I lifted the molded paper from his hand, he turned and walked away.

“Never forget that. I’ll wait for your call.”

Before I could respond or read the wings, he was gone. Just like that. Examining the artwork, I had to admire the craftsmanship. Every line was perfect and every crease was precise. There was a lot of love that had been put into this bird. Someone had truly appreciated it, not to mention the skill it took to have enough patience to perfect each fold.

Flipping the crane around, the message read as followed:

“You are worthy.”

But of what? Compassion? Compliments? Love?

If so, then why did he leave me? Or was he saying I was worthy of these things and more…just…not with him.

What total bullshit!