Surrender to You (15 page)

After a long workday, I didn't expect to see someone waiting for me beside the Maserati. A woman in a light blue dress with curly red hair to her shoulders stood next to the door, her arms crossed and a serene look on her face.

A gust of wind blew her tight red ringlets across her face. Her ruby lips parted and her cheeks blossomed into a smile, revealing that adorable dimple of hers. The light from a streetlamp hit the back of her head and her beauty took my breath away.

“Hey, Goodfellow,” she said with a wave.

“Hey, Gingerbread.” I crossed the distance between us. “You look absolutely…” I tried to find the right words and I failed.

“What are you doing here?” I asked her.

“I came to see you.”

I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “Are you all right?”

“I'm much better now.”

“You look that way. Do you have time to talk?”

“I've got plenty of time. I was hoping you could clear your schedule for coffee or maybe even dinner. Wishful thinking, but I've had so much happen to me…”

“Of course. We should have dinner and a few drinks.”

Her smile faltered. “If you don't mind, I was hoping we could grab some food and head back to your place. I'd like some quiet time.”

“Anything.” But I saw where this was going. Behind closed doors, we'd go through the same motions again, but instead of getting in the car, she took my hand and pulled me down the street.

“Let's go,” she urged.

Her warm hand squeezed mine.

“I thought you wanted to grab a bite to eat and head to my place?” I asked.

“We are, but I want to take a walk first, maybe pick up some street food before we head back.”

Now this was unusual.

So we strolled down Thirty-Fourth Street.

“Any idea where we're going?” I asked.

She shrugged and the heat from the late summer day touched her face. “No idea. I just…missed seeing you. I got spoiled when you brought me lunches all the time.”

“Not hard at all. Speaking of the hospital, how is your mom?”

“She takes it one day at a time. I'd like to say she's doing better, but I don't know how long it takes to recover from major bowel surgery. I guess she has good days and bad days. More bad ones than good.”

I nodded.

On our way around the block, we stopped at a few places. One in particular I wasn't expecting. I even tried to avoid it. “Do you want food from here?”

“I just want to go in.”

“I'd rather have a burger,” I offered.

“Just c'mon.” She browsed the aisle, looking at the cakes and such. She stopped in front of the window. “There is something I've been needing to tell you for a long time.”

“What's on your mind?”

She bit her lower lip. “I have celiac disease…There, I said it.” She released a deep breath.

“I knew already.”

She released a long sigh. “I had a feeling.”

“Why did you wait so long?”

“Fear. After my childhood friends found out, they treated me differently. I see them now, and they handle me like I'm fragile china or something.”

“You're far from that.”

“I agree.” She leaned on the counter to ask a question. “Do you have any gluten-free options?”

“Sorry, ma'am,” the man said, “we don't have anything. Our boss said something about cross-contamination. We prepare all our breads in the kitchen in the back.”

She nodded and smiled as if she'd heard that many times before. So we left the bakery.

“I was always wondering how you got that meal for me the night you showed up at my apartment. You knew then too, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“How did you find out?”

He told me about my birthday dinner and I laughed. “So you're the mystery man who paid for our meal.”

I intertwined our fingers. Holding her hand felt damn good.

So much time had passed since that night. By the time we picked up some burgers, an hour had passed with just me and her. We hadn't walked around like this in a long time. Maybe she'd be open to doing it more.

Once we returned to the hotel, we rode up my private elevator to my penthouse. Anticipation made it hard for me to concentrate. The need to touch her again rocketed through me, but I wanted to stretch out every moment without hurrying. When the dawn came she'd be gone.

I didn't want to lose a single moment.

We ate our food on the penthouse patio. Between bites we grinned like fools.

“Is it that good?” I asked.

“Hell yeah.” She held up how much she had left. She didn't complain while she ate her beef patty wrapped in lettuce.

I couldn't stop staring at her. “Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

That made her pause. “Of course I do.” She made a face as if she'd tasted something bad. “You were awful at it.” She darted her tongue, in the most unappealing manner, into the opening of her lettuce. “You did
this
over and over again.”

I busted out laughing. “I was that bad?”

“You were twenty. Like you knew any better.”

I put my burger down and wiped off my hands. “What about now?”

“What do you mean?” She put down her food.

“Don't play coy with me. You know what I'm asking. Have I improved?”

Her olive green eyes blinked and she glanced away as if suddenly shy. My heart was beating so fast I had trouble catching my breath.

I traced my fingertips over her lips. “You still make my heart race like the first time.”

I lightly kissed her forehead and nothing else. Every part of my being begged for me to trail my mouth along the bridge of her nose to her lips, but I didn't budge.

Your move, Gingerbread.

I waited. Then it came. A brief brush of her lips against mine. The kiss was tentative, just like that summer day when we kissed for the first time. Our heads tilted and I drew her seat closer to mine. We continued to kiss, a sensual dance beginning with our tongues. The wind blew between the buildings, making her hair tickle my face, but nothing would stop me from doing what I'd waited years to do.

Finally we parted, our breath quickened and my heart still beating fast enough to cause a dull ache.

I drew her thick hair out of her face, brushing my fingertips against her brown freckles. “Carlie, stay with me tonight.”

“Is that an order?” she whispered.

“No.”

She tilted her head. “I'll stay.”

We left behind our food and lay next to each other on one of the wide lawn chairs. I pulled her close to me and we lay face-to-face, our foreheads a mere hairsbreadth apart. Overwhelmed with emotion, I had to speak.

“I love you,
Coração.
” I kissed her again, lingering long enough to hear her sigh. I'd say those words all night until she knew the depth of my love for her. “I've always loved you.”

“I know, Goodfellow. I love you, too.”

I closed my eyes, content to sleep a bit knowing she'd be there when I woke up.

After sleeping on the lawn chair for an hour, I carried Carlie back into the penthouse. As nice as the weather was outside, she belonged in my bed.

After spending the night making love to her, I thought I'd be exhausted in the early morning, but when sunlight began to flood the floor-to-ceiling windows in the room, I stirred, reaching out across the bed. I expected to find the space empty like I usually did.

She's still here.

“Carlie,” I murmured.

She rolled about and had migrated to the far side of the bed. Even her feet hung off the edge. I gently wrapped my arms around her waist and tugged her back to me. I ran my nose along the back of her head. I was in complete bliss.

She'd stayed.

The warmth of her naked body snuggled against mine made touching her too hard to resist. I caressed her hips from the back of her thighs to the front. My fingertips followed the trail along her waist, to the curve of breast, and then her shoulders.

We spent the day together in bed. Matter of fact, she even called in sick from my bed. We ordered room service and watched an action flick starring Bruce Willis—her favorite.

What mattered was having her beside me, smiling and carefree—until the day was almost over and she began to get dressed.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes, I have to go check on my mom.”

“I think you both should move in at the hotel. I could get a nurse for her—”

“You're selling the hotel.”

“Yes, I am, but that shouldn't matter.”

“So are you going to drag us around with you from project to project then?”

“It doesn't have to be like that, Carlie. I could make sure both of you are comfortable.”

Her frown deepened. “You know that isn't the life I want to lead. If I wanted to be a mistress, I would've signed up to be one from the get-go after I turned eighteen.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I'm quitting my job and I'm going to go stay with Mom.”

“What about us?” Now I was getting angry even though I didn't want to.

“You're about to leave again, Tomas. We'd drift back to how we were before.”

I took her hand before she had a chance to take a step back. “No, we wouldn't. This time is different.”

“No, it isn't. We always keep getting pulled apart. You're selling the hotel and I need to be with my mom so she can recover and we can form a relationship again. How can we do both?”

“We'll do it because we love each other.” I pressed my forehead against hers like last night. “Isn't that enough?”

“Sometimes love isn't enough.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but what could I say? I'd choose my own mother if she were still alive—and yet, I didn't want Carlie to leave again. This whole night was probably her way of saying goodbye, and I had to let her be the daughter she'd always wanted to be.

When Carlie pulled away from me, I let her go and watched her walk away.

Every time Tomas and I parted, I felt like I was leaving a part of myself behind. The pain seemed never-ending.

As painful as that couch I'd slept on.

The first thing I did to distract myself was buy a new couch for Mom's house. Mom didn't complain at all when I left to buy a pullout bed from the local furniture place. The new one was plain beige, but it was as comfy as a cloud.

I still didn't sleep well that night, when I crashed after cleaning up a single corner in Mom's messy bedroom.

But then I drifted back to the couch only to sit again.

“I thought I didn't move all that much,” Mom grumbled.

“I'm just a little tired.”

Then I caught her checking out my phone. “Can I help you find something?”

“Oh, I wanted to see those photos again.”

So we laughed for a while and talked about the failed attempt to have Rutger Rose be the opening act for a Dire Straits concert. According to Mom, Dire Straits just didn't recognize their talent.

Seeing her smiling face made me feel bold for once. “Move, look this way, and show me your best Rutger Rose manager face.”

I placed the camera in front of us for a selfie. At first, she wrinkled her nose at the idea, but I kept smiling and waited. The straight line of her lips curved into a grin and she brought her cheek to mine. After a few clicks, I had my first pictures of me and my birth mom.

By the time I sat back down, I noticed she'd browsed my text messages instead of my browser. What had she been looking at?

A week later, everything seemed to be back to normal, except I woke up to a quiet house. I checked Mom's room and found it empty. In a panic, I checked everywhere, even driving around the neighborhood until I found her at the local bus station.

“What in the
hell
of God's green earth are you doing here?” I hissed.

An elderly lady flashed me a dirty look for cursing.
To hell with her, too.

“I'm buying a ticket. What does it look like?”

“You just had bowel surgery for cancer a month ago. Do you think Dr. Craft would approve?”

“I could give a shit,” she grunted.

The lady looked at Mom also. She likely didn't give a shit about her, either.

“So you just woke up and thought it would be a great idea to up and leave?”

“I used to do this all the time.”

“Well, you're not twenty anymore.”

“And you're a bossy roommate.”

I drove her back to the house, but apparently we weren't done arguing yet.

“Why do you want to stay with me when you can have something better for yourself?”

“I do have something better. I have you now.”

She made a rude gesture. “You were an assistant manager at a fancy hotel and now you're cleaning up after me, a person who is nobody, and you think
this
is better?”

“To me, it's better.” My voice was rising higher and higher. “You have no right to tell me that spending time with you isn't worth it. You lost that right when you abandoned me.” I snorted. “You can't even abandon me again right. You just left the house with a hole-filled bag and you forgot half of your precious medicines.”

“Those bottles are empty,” she grunted.

We grew silent for a bit. I was still mad she'd pulled this shit because she didn't want me here.

I
chose
to stay here. I left the man I'd loved for almost half my life to be with the person I'd always needed in my life.

Mom finally spoke. “I was never meant to be a mother.”

“Well, sometimes we don't have a choice in the cards life deals us. You had me and now you're stuck with me.”

“I don't have to be,” she whispered. “You can get the fuck out.”

“Make me.” Mom had apparently eaten bullshit for breakfast.

“I'll call the police on you.”

“Good, then they can see the hovel you live in so I can force you into protective care.”

Her face contorted into an angry grimace. “Can't you see I want you to be happy,” she bit out. “You can do all the things I wasn't able to do. You can have a family, maybe more.”

“Don't you think I can do that with you in my life, too?”

“All you do is sit on that goddamn couch and look at your phone.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, c'mon!”

“It's true.” She placed her hand on me. The first time she'd ever done that. “You're hurting and I'm letting you stay that way.”

“I'm not.”

“A long time ago, I chose Frank and I saw so many places. I wish I could have seen Europe, you know? Seeing the U.S. was nice and all, but I dreamt bigger than that.” She pushed me a bit. “I could've worked at the local meat packing plant, but I chose
him
. Now look at you. Are you running away or are you following?”

I was running away from Tomas. I was a professional at it, but I chose a better option. “I chose to run to
you
.”

She touched my face and ran her palm down my cheek. Damn, having my mom touch me was all I'd ever wanted. “I've been here for fifty years. I'll be here for twenty more, thanks to Dr. Craft.”

“I'm still not going anywhere,” I bit out.

“Just think about it, Carlie.”

“Uh-huh.”

She frowned. “I can be a nagging bitch.”

“Can be?”

“Promise me you'll think about it.”

I'd already turned him away and he planned to sell the hotel. For all I knew, the ink on the paperwork had dried already.

I nodded. “I'll think about it, Mom.”

The next morning, I woke up and glanced at my phone again. No new messages from Tomas. A quick search on the Internet didn't reveal any information about a sale of the Goodfellow Tower Hotel, but why would any sale go public until the company released the information?

Forget about him, Carlie.

So I freshened up first. On the way to the bathroom, I glanced in her room to see Mom on her side again. At least she hadn't run away.

I brushed my teeth. For the first time, I noticed that half of the bottles were empty. Damn, she did have a point there. I chuckled. I grabbed an empty bottle of painkillers and walked into the bedroom to wake her up.

“You win, Patty. They're empty.” I touched her side, but she didn't stir.

Just another morning I'd have to drag her into the bathroom.

“You tired, sleepyhead?” I touched her hand, and it was cold.

Oh God, no…

“Momma…” My voice cracked as I reached for her to turn her over.

She wasn't breathing.

“Mom…” I scrambled to feel for a pulse, but her chest was silent.

“God, not now. Not now.” I perched over her and began CPR. Two breaths. Five chest compressions. Countless times I'd practiced this procedure for emergencies like this one, but I never imagined I'd be doing it to my mother.

She still didn't respond.

“Goddamn it, you better wake up!” I was crying now, but Mom didn't move.

I grabbed my phone. Somehow I dialed the number I'd called numerous times at the hotel, but never for myself.

“911,” the dispatcher said through my din. “What is your emergency?”

“Please…” I couldn't seem to find my breath. Black circles danced along my vision. “Come to 88…” My throat was closing up. I leaned over and sucked in a deep breath. With the first gust of air, I gave the address. “My mom is unresponsive with no pulse or heartbeat.” I couldn't speak anymore. Only howl.

I barely heard the woman say help was on the way. I dropped the phone and ran back into the room.

“I'm not giving up on you.” I tried again and again until my arms grew tired and the sound of the sirens grew louder. Eventually, all I could do was weep, wrap my arms around her, and lay my head against her shoulder.

That was the first and the last time I hugged her.