Page 32 of Ripple Effect
“Dear Lord. Were you in a wreck?”
“No! He took me skydiving!” I’m still pissed as shit after all these years.
Dr. Powell drops his organized file of papers as all professionalism flies away. Kind of like the words out of my mouth the day Cal took me up in that plane.
19
Elizabeth
Twelve Years Ago from Present Day
If I murder my boyfriend, will that get me sent to jail for the rest of my life? The thought tantalizes me as we’re spending a perfectly beautiful Saturday preparing to die.
He just might die sooner if I think it will keep my feet on the ground.
As if he can sense my thoughts, Cal reaches over and squeezes my hand. “It will be fine. Now pay attention; they’re telling you important information.”
“It’s important if you plan on doing this more than once,” I hiss at him.
He just grins that smile only I ever get, and then he faces forward, the pressure on my hand urging me to do the same.
Cal got home from a two-week business trip just three days ago. Three remarkable days where I spent most of them in bed, making a few appearances at Deja Vu primarily to do payroll so my staff didn’t up and quit on me. The rest of the time, I listened as Cal explained about missed connections, materials Iris complained she needed for the client that went up and missing, and lost luggage on the way home. I soothed him by saying, “It’s over, you’re here. That’s all that matters.”
He rolled into me, picking up one of the sunflowers he never fails to bring home after an extended business trip, and dragged it down my arm. “What did you do?”
Ache without you.It was on the tip of my tongue to say, but something was holding me back. When I went out to Akin Hill last weekend, I sat by Nonna’s grave and admitted to her I was head over heels in love with Cal. “You’d love him too, Nonna. He complements and completes me.” After explaining all of the ways I wasn’t sure I could live without him if he wasn’t a part of my life, I pushed to my feet and pressed my lips to the cold stone that has the biggest heart buried beneath it. “I just hope you can see everything. I wouldn’t want you to miss the life I hope to build with him.”
Instead, I told him, “I worked, went out to see the family, baked a little. Normal things, Cal.”
He scowled. “You baked? What?”
Oh, my man wasn’t going to be happy. “A coconut pecan cake.”
Cal pushed up on his elbows. “Where is it?”
“Gone,” I said nonchalantly. It happened to be waiting at Cal’s in a cake carrier, but since he’d come here first, he hadn’t seen it.
His mouth opened and closed like a fish. I don’t even think he realized it. Finally, he was able to form words. “You couldn’t even save me a piece?” He was so incredulous, I burst out laughing. Tears leaked from the corner of my eyes into the pillow beneath me. Then, there was something that tugged at my heart.
Hurt.
And my laughter dried up.
God, if there’s a man who needs cake and smiles and laughter, it’s Calhoun Sullivan. We hardly talk about it, but growing up without parents affected him. The way I nurture him feeds his soul. I touched his arm gently. The muscles bunched beneath. “Cal, honey, you know me better than that,” I reminded him.
He relaxed imperceptibly. A rough smile crossed his face. “Then where’s my slice?”
“Your cake,” I emphasized. His lips parted as I continued. “Is waiting for you at your place. I thought you might stop there to get your clothes. I didn’t realize they’d lose your luggage and you’d come directly here, or I’d have kept it waiting for you.”
Now, I’d like to smash the remains of the cake into his gorgeous face. This is some sadistic payback; I just know it.
Cal is patiently sitting through the beginner’s skydiving course with me even though he’s been a certified jumper for years. I’m sure that’s because he knows if he doesn’t, there’s no way on this planet I’m staying, let alone going up in that plane. None. I lean over and whisper, “Aren’t parachutes supposed to be for emergencies only?”
He coughs to hide a laugh.
“Okay, everyone.” The instructor claps his hands together. “Let’s practice what we learned.”
Practice. Right.
