Page 26 of Desolation

I bite my lip and nod. I hate feeling like I am intruding or putting him at risk but this is probably the safest place I can be.

* * *

Despite my better judgement of running into Landon, I make the decision to go back to the VA hospital. It’s Wednesday, I should be in the clear. Hopefully, Wendy was right when I saw her on Saturday and she said that was the only day he came in each week.

I’ve tried so hard not to think about him the last few days. But when I am laying out at the pool all day and not thinking about the nightmare that is my life or how my girls are doing or whatever hunk I am reading on my e-reader, my thoughts go directly to that six foot two glorious specimen of a man. I need to see a psychiatrist. I spent all of fifteen minutes with him. He’s probably ten years younger than me. I need help.

I lock the door to the other Jaguar as Dax hid the keys to the ’59. This one is much more versatile, not a convertible, and not a gas guzzler. I head into the hospital and make my way down the hall that leads to the assisted living section.

When I came here on Saturday, I didn’t know if they would even let me in. But I told them about my twenty years of volunteer service through the VA hospital system and after a few phone calls they let me in. I expected to be put in one of the long term facility areas not assisted living. The hospital in Boston doesn’t have it connected to the main building. It’s a few miles away but the one in DC is similar to this one. I was happy to spend an afternoon talking to the seniors. They always have the best stories and bring hope in times of need.

And I am in desperate need of hope right now.

I check in with Wendy when I walk into the facility. The woman is probably in her mid-fifties and has a contagious smile. I haven’t smiled much since I came here but seeing her puts one on my face.

“Miss Gutierrez, I am so happy to see your face. I was hoping you would come back here.”

I smile as she stands up from the desk and walks around it giving me an unexpected hug. “Well, turns out I am in town a little longer than I expected.”

“Georgia will be so happy to see you.” She leans in close to me as if to tell me a secret. “That woman has not shut up about you since the day you were here. I thought the nurse would need to medicate her. The only other person she’s been infatuated with has been Landon. But who wouldn’t be, that man could be a model.”

I smile politely at her not wanting to respond. But she is right he could be a model. That square jaw, flawless skin, full lips, and fathomless eyes. He could probably be plastered up in Times Square in his underwear and cause car accidents.

Dammit, Mari. Stop thinking about that man.

“You’re right. He could be.”

Wendy loops her arm around me, thankfully dropping the subject of Landon. “Well, let’s walk you out to the garden. I think Miss Georgia just went out there to play some Mahjong. I bet they could squeeze you in.”

Wendy hustles me down the hall and out to the garden. There is a small alcove in a corner where Georgia and another woman are dividing up tiles.

“Heavens to Betsy is that Mari?” Georgia shouts as she stands from her chair, jostling the table. I told her my nickname. I am sick of being called Marianne. I forget to respond to it half the time.

“Hello Georgia,” I get out before she wraps me in a huge hug. Georgia isn’t a tiny woman, she is a loud-mouth, big mama from the South. She told me last time I was here that her husband was assigned to the Navy base in San Diego when she was in her forties. She misses Alabama but can’t complain about the weather here.

Georgia unwraps her arms from around me and nods to the other woman at the table. “That’s Violet. We have our weekly Mahjong games every Monday and Wednesday at four p.m.” She leans into me. “We play later in the day so we don’t get shit for drinking mint juleps. I tried to play at ten a.m. once and the nurses told me I couldn’t drink. Bunch of baloney if you ask me.”

I laugh out loud at that. “Well, I would love to play with you. I haven’t played in quite some time so I might be a bit rusty.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” Violet says as she takes my hand. “A few mint juleps and you’ll be as good as us.”

I take a seat and listen to Violet explain the rules as Georgia pours me a mint julep from a pitcher.

The first game we play, I fail miserably but by the second I seem to remember more from when I played in college. We are just about to start a new hand when a voice breaks through ours.

“Just passing through, my ass.”

I freeze at the sound of the husky voice behind me. I might have only met him once but it’s ingrained in my brain. Landon Thompson.

I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t find him attractive. He looks just like every man I imagine in the romance novels I read. And when he grabbed my hand last time I was here, I felt something. I don’t know what but something passed through us. I wanted to blame it on my celibacy since Michael hasn’t slept with me since I asked for a divorce. Even after we went to couple’s therapy to try and fix our problems and the therapist told us to have sex. He still wouldn’t lay a hand on me. I’m sure he has more NDAs that have been signed since then because he seems too content to not be getting laid.

Landon grabs my hand again and kisses it. His lips are soft yet firm on my hand and I have no doubt he would know what to do when it came to kissing my lips or other parts of my body. My cheeks flame as I realize I am thinking about Landon going down on me while I am sitting in the middle of an assisted living hospital and he is trying to talk to me.

“You all started without me? I’m wounded,” Landon says dramatically, holding his hands to his chest.

“You know we start at four p.m. sharp. You’re late. But luckily we were just about to start a new hand, we can deal you in.”

Landon takes the seat across from me and I wish I could leave without being rude. This won’t be easy for me to look at him throughout the game. But I can’t just walk away.

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