Page 18 of Hush

At home, he reheated leftovers and drank a beer. By eight o’clock, he finally felt ready.

She answered on the fourth ring—purposefully making him wait, he was sure.

“Hi, Benjamin,” she said. She always used his full name, which irked him. “Are we all set for dinner on Saturday?”

“I have plans Saturday,” he said, though it was a lie. Even though he hadn’t quite figured out how yet, he hoped to spend time with Elise.

“Well, you can break them,” Ashley said. “I want to find out all about your new life.”

“And if I don’t want to share it with you?” Ben asked, hugging his chest with his free arm.

“Don’t be nasty,” Ashley warned. “We have an agreement.”

“Had, as in past tense. You don’t get to just barge into my life whenever you want,” he said, his voice rising.

“We’re talking about dinner,” Ashley said. “You wouldn’t want me to have to talk to Dr. Whitehill, would you?”

Ben froze. Jean Whitehill was his chief of residency and boss. “You’re sick, you know that?” he said. “Truly, utterly sick.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But you know I always get what I want.”

Ben huffed out a sigh. “Dinner, but that’s it, then you leave me alone.”

“See you Saturday,” she said in a satisfied purr.

Elise

Friday arrived after one of the toughest weeks Elise had experienced in her seven years as a mother. Because of the cast, Jaden had trouble tinkering with his usual projects or playing the music games he loved on his toy piano. At school, his teachers, already overwhelmed by his quirks, had sent notes home and called about behaviors Elise hadn’t seen since his preschool years.

Elise tried to pinpoint the cause—was it just the discomfort and limitations of the cast, or had something happened at Garrett’s over the weekend? Could it be some kind of lingering effect from the anesthetic? A scouring of links via Google had produced no answers. She thought about calling Ben, but each time she picked up the phone, she thought back to the way he’d touched her in the hallway. Was there something wrong with her in allowing herself to have feelings for a man who was technically unavailable? She wondered if she could be purposefully trying to torture herself.

His words and the desire she’d felt for him circled round and round in her brain all week, popping into her thoughts whenever they went idle—while grading papers, attending meetings, or walking to and from her classrooms. She remembered the feel of Ben’s firm body pressing against her, especially that stiff bulge in his pants. Desire like that hadn’t filled her in so long.

She imagined undressing him, the buttons of his shirt slipping through the holes one at a time, and touching his warm skin as he kissed and caressed her. More than once, she’d felt her panties dampen as this fantasy played out—his hands on her hips while his tongue explored her body, or him laying her down on her sheets, spreading her thighs so he could slip his firm cock inside her. Sometimes, it was enough to make her shudder. She’d even considered breaking out the vibrator, but, so far, it had stayed in the box at the top of her closet.

On Friday, Elise kept Jaden home from school, making extra effort to play with him, using soothing words when he got frustrated, making sure he ate and drank so he wouldn’t be hungry during the appointment. But as they prepared to go, Jaden refused to put on his coat, and, afraid they would be late, Elise made the mistake of rushing him.

Jaden started kicking the pile of shoes piled by the door. When she tried to calm him, he went wild with punches and kicks at her shins. In one swoop, she picked him up and carried him, kicking and screaming, to the couch where she held him firmly against her. His body arched from hers, writhing like a wild animal while he gasped with the effort.

“Jaden, I’m here,” she said as calmly as she could while her arms strained to keep hold of him. “It’s okay.”

The fit lasted several minutes, but, finally, his fatigued limbs stopped flailing. Elise adjusted her position on the couch so she could cradle him. His little body bucked with his softening sobs, his new glasses smeared from his crying. Elise rocked him gently, stroking his forehead. She swayed with him until his eyes came back into focus. She pulled a tissue from the box on the coffee table and asked him to blow, then wiped his face with her fingers. His clear hazel eyes peered up at her.

“I don’t want to go,” Jaden said.

“Okay,” she said. “Can you tell me why?”

“I don’t like the shirt,” he said.

Elise paused, trying to find the connection. “Which shirt?”

Jaden hiccupped. “The one they made me wear.”

Elise tried to take a breath through her tightened chest. “You mean the one at the hospital?”

Jaden nodded, his eyes drifting to a place beyond her right shoulder. As a baby, he’d been fascinated by the mobile above his crib, and he’d often cried when she took him away from it. At the time, she’d thought it was normal, but at age nine months, when the pediatrician informed her that his eyes still weren’t focusing on objects in his near environment, it all made sense. He’d been staring at the mobile like that because those tiny objects just floated past his vision in a blur of color, like a kaleidoscope.

She’d had to work through her guilt for not treating about Jaden’s poor vision sooner—even though the doctor told her that before six months old, babies’ eyes still crossed and that a problem like Jaden’s could stay undiscovered for years.

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