Sugar (30 page)

But he also loved the way she hogged the shower, her fussiness about cooking only organic food, how she reached for the hair clips to put up her hair when she was in a rush rather than obsessively primping as so many other of his girlfriends had done. He loved
her
. The disastrous date with Candace had confirmed it.

Still, knowing that the world, or at least thousands of people on the planet, had seen your woman not only naked but fucking other guys wasn’t something he’d ever considered before. It would take a strong man to cope with that and still be okay. Cole knew he was strong . . . but only to a point. The tours in Iraq had humbled him, too. He understood his limits, not only physical but psychological. He knew what it meant to live with something you couldn’t go back and change. Regrets didn’t help. They ate you alive.

He loved Sarah, he knew that now, but did he have what it took to live with her very public past?

Sarah awakened to her head pillowed in Cole’s lap, his slightly bleary eyes smiling down on her. Pushing upright, she asked, “How long have I been like this?”

“Coupla hours.”

She swung her feet onto the linoleum floor. “You sat up all this time, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes in Iraq we’d be on patrol and a sandstorm would come up or it would be a hundred plus degrees in the shade. Sitting up for a few hours in the air conditioning is no big deal.”

The macho routine was infuriating—and endearing. She stretched, stiff in places she couldn’t name. “Well, you are like the best fuck buddy ever.”

Was it her imagination or did he wince? “Thanks . . . I think.”

Liz was switched to a new antiemetic and sent home with strict instructions to stay hydrated. Even though there were plenty of cabs queuing up outside the hospital’s main entrance, Cole insisted on calling for his car service to pick them up. Too tired to argue, Sarah let him handle the details. The curbside pickup was smooth, the hospital aide wheeling Liz out to the waiting town car.

Back at Liz’s, Cole relieved Honey of her babysitting duties, ordered groceries from Fresh Direct, phoned in the new prescription for anti-nausea meds, and headed out with Jonathan to pick up pizza.

Occupied with settling Liz into the bedroom, Sarah couldn’t resist pointing out, “They do deliver, you know.”

“Yeah but I like it hot,” he replied. “Besides, Jonathan and I need some guy time, don’t we buddy?” He reached down and ruffled Jonathan’s hair, and Sarah’s heart tugged.

Toeing the carpet, Jonathan shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.” Ordinarily he lit like a Christmas tree whenever Cole came around. Clearly the night had taken a toll on him, too.

“We’ll be back in an hour,” Cole said to Sarah.

“Okay, we’ll be here.”

He returned fifty minutes later with a smiling Jonathan. Along with the pills and pizza, he’d bought a magnum size bottle of Chianti.

“Cole took me to the Apple Store and we played around with all kinds of cool sh . . . stuff!” Jonathan announced, bounding into the bedroom to be with his mom.

Sarah ran her gaze over Cole. His stomach might be a rock hard six pack, but his heart was squishy soft where kids were concerned.

He set the pizza box and bags down on the counter and stepped inside the tiny kitchen. “Any idea where I might a find a corkscrew?” he asked, pulling open first one kitchen drawer and then another.

Following him in, she held back a chuckle. The corkscrew was in the first drawer he’d opened and in plain sight—talk about Man Goggles! Handing it to him, she glanced at the microwave clock. It was 3 PM. “It’s kind of early for me.”

Cole sloshed red wine into a water tumbler and handed it to her. “Like they say, it’s five o’clock somewhere. Besides, you’ve had a hell of a night.”

He was right, about that at least. “Thanks,” she said, accepting the glass. “But so have you.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m joining you.” Grinning, he took out a second glass and filled it halfway.

From the bedroom, Liz called out, “Someone have a glass for me. I’d drink the whole damned bottle if I could.”

Sarah and Cole exchanged amused looks. Liz was definitely feeling better. “Hey no complaints, you’ve got the good drugs,” she called back.

Lowering his voice, Cole said, “Nothing wrong with her ears.”

As if to prove it, Liz shouted back, “Hey, I heard that!”

Ordering Sarah to the sofa—“Do not even think of moving”— Cole saw that everyone was settled in with a soda and a slice, and then joined them in the main room.

Flipping through the DVD stack of animated movies, he looked over to Jonathan. “So buddy, what’s it going to be?
Wreck it Ralph
?
101 Dalmatians
?
Toy Story Two
?
Cinderella
?” He paused, lifting one eyebrow. “
Cinderella
, seriously?”

Mouth and chin covered in tomato sauce, Jonathan shrugged. “That one’s my mom’s. She got it when it came out in Blu-ray.”

“Whew, good to know, you had me worried there. Anyway, partner, pick your poison.”

“
Wreck it Ralph
, I guess.”

“Sounds like a solid choice.” Cole popped in the movie, picked up his paper plate, and settled onto the floor beside Jonathan. Folding the huge slice in half, he took a big bite. Chewing, he leaned back against the couch, his one shoulder resting against Sarah’s leg.

Resisting the urge to reach down and stroke his mussed hair, Sarah said, “Don’t you ever work?”

Mouth full, he managed a smile. “I do but mostly I delegate.”

Staring ahead at the TV, he reached up with one hand and took her foot, kneading the arch with his knuckles and thumb. The innocent pleasure was also bittersweet. Impromptu foot massages, yet another thing she stood to miss!

She hadn’t expected to fall asleep again, but given how spent she was, the few sips of wine might as well have been Ambien. When she opened her eyes, the movie credits were rolling, and Jonathan was playing on Cole’s iPad.

Blinking, she pulled herself upright. “Where’s Cole?”

Eyes on the device, Jonathan jerked his chin toward the kitchen. “Cleaning up.”

Pulling down the throw blanket that someone, Cole, had covered her with, she got up and tiptoed over to Liz’s half open door. Propped up on pillows, her friend was awake and alert and sipping a bottle of ginger ale.

Sarah poked her head inside. “Can I get you anything?” she asked, eyeing the water level in the plastic pitcher, a “souvenir” from the previous night’s hospital stay.

“No, thanks, I’m good. But you can do me a favor and get yourself out of here and home. You look almost as bad as I do, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Thanks. I’m going to grab a few things from my place but I’ll be back.”

“No you won’t,” Liz said firmly.

Sarah let out a long breath. Liz was stubborn but then so was she. “You just got out of the hospital. You and Jonathan absolutely cannot stay here by yourselves tonight.”

“I agree. That’s why I had Cole call Peter. He and Pol are on their way over.”

Wiping his hands on a dish towel, Cole came up behind her. “Actually they’re here. I just buzzed them up.”

Sarah looked back to Liz. “Why is it I have the feeling I’m being double teamed?”

“Maybe because you are,” Liz admitted with a smile.

“You snooze, you lose,” Cole added, snapping the towel against Sarah’s butt.

Outmatched and outnumbered, there was nothing for her to do but concede defeat. Privately she admitted that the prospect of spending the night stretched out in her own bed held enormous appeal. “Okay, you both win but I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow to see Jonathan to school.”

“Great, thank you, now go, get outta here!” Lifting rail thin arms, one bearing a big brownish bruise from the IV, Liz made a show of shooing her off.

“Okay, I’m going but if anything happens, and I mean
anything
, you call me, got it?”

Liz crossed her heart. “Cross my heart and hope to . . . Well, let’s leave it at cross my heart. And forget anymore needles.”

By now used to Liz’s black humor, Sarah crossed the room to the bed. “No one’s dying, not on my watch.” She bent down and kissed Liz’s thin cheek.

She reentered the living room in time to open the door to Peter and Pol waiting out in the hallway. They bore flowers, a tray of Starbucks coffees—and tons of questions about how the night in the hospital had gone.

Sarah answered as best and as briefly as she could. “You call me if she needs anything or . . . Just call me,” she added, wagging a warning finger in their vicinity.

Expression earnest, Pol nodded profusely. “We will, we promise.”

Peter’s mouth kicked up. “Will you look at this one, from porn star to Jewish mother in less than one month, oy vey!”

Tired and stressed though Sarah was, their good natured ribbing had her grinning.

Cole grabbed his jacket off the hook by the door. “Hold up, I’ll walk you.”

“Thanks but I’m pretty sure I can find my way,” she said, already starting toward the stairs. She’d postpone talking to him until she’d had some solid sleep and could count on being coherent—not cowardice or even procrastination but good common sense, right?

“Sarah!” He grabbed hold of her upper arm, stalling her in her steps.

She whirled. Glaring down at his gripping hand and then back up at him, she said “Okay, you can walk me. You don’t have to act like some fucking prison guard.”

Expression hurt, he let go, his fingers falling away. Outside the apartment, he demanded, “What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“You know what. I do something to piss you off?”

“No, why?”

“Forget it. Let’s go before you fall asleep on your feet.” He took hold of her arm.

They walked side-by-side in silence, pushing through the soupy summertime air, Cole with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. Coming up onto the Angelika Film Center, they turned the corner onto West Houston Street. From it, her place was a short six blocks—suddenly the longest six blocks of her life. Once they inadvertently brushed shoulders and Sarah shied away as though she’d been burned. In a way, she was about to be. They passed the bodega where they’d first met, and she found herself fighting sentimental tears. It had only been a month and yet in so many ways that night felt like a lifetime ago. Certainly it had been a turning point, the start to reclaiming sex as a private pleasure, not a commodity to be packaged and sold as entertainment.

She glanced over to Cole. Nothing in his rigidly set profile suggested he considered the mini market to have any sort of special significance. Then again, she supposed all New York convenience stores looked pretty much the same.

They turned left onto Elizabeth Street, their steps slowing. Cole might not yet know it, at least not for certain, but her street was their personal end of the line. Her building was almost within view. Between them and it lay an Asian food mart, several restaurants and wine bars, a vacant storefront that’s “For Rent” sign had been defaced with graffiti, art galleries, and a smattering of chichi shops Sarah had been meaning to browse but hadn’t yet bothered. Before now she’d considered herself too busy—with Liz and Jonathan, the book, and . . . Cole. The void he would leave in her life suddenly seemed like a chasm, the Grand Canyon albeit on a more manageable scale.

Reaching the front steps to her brownstone, she turned to face him. “Thanks for everything you did back there.”

It was paltry praise for all the help he’d given, not just for Liz and Jonathan but for Peter and Pol, too. And her? The past weeks had seen her through a serious slump. In no small part due to him, she’d reclaimed New York as her home.

He shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. I like pizza, I like wine, and I like hanging out with Jonathan. He’s a cool kid.”

“Still, it meant a lot. He’s never had a father around. Your spending time is a huge deal.”

She turned toward the stairs. He started to follow her up, but she stopped him with a hand. “I’m not exactly feeling up to acting out any movies at the moment.”

“That’s okay, we can just sleep. You look beat.” He reached out and brushed the pad of his thumb beneath her eye.

The tender gesture had her eyes filling.

His gaze widened, the ocean blue irises like sinkholes, sucking her in. “Hey, what is it? What’s wrong?” He made as if to hug her, but Sarah backed out of reach.

“Cole, I can’t do this anymore.” The withheld words tumbled out, inelegant but efficient.

He dropped his arms. “Okay, so maybe it was a little early to start drinking but we only had one glass—okay mug.” He tried for a laugh, his smile slipping when she didn’t join in. “You’re not talking about the wine, are you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“Then what?”

“I can’t see you anymore.”

He shoved a hand through his mussed hair. “If this is about the other night, nothing happened between Candace and me—
nothing
.”

“Thanks, but it’s not just about that.”

“Then what is it about?” A young mother pushing a stroller passed them. Sarah resisted the urge to shout,
I want that, that!
Instead she focused on Cole and tried to explain. “The whole no strings attached sex only thing we’ve got going, I thought I could do it, that it would be enough, but I can’t and it isn’t, not anymore.”
Not with someone as special to me as you
.