Forgiving Patience (22 page)

Tears had started to streak down both
sides of her face again. He wasn’t helping the situation. It had been selfish
of him to bring her there. After moving to her side, he kneeled in front of
her, grabbed both hands, and brought them to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss
to them while looking up into her big green eyes.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said
in between sobs.

“I know I don’t, but I want to. Let
me take care of you tonight.”

“Like the other night?”

“In a way, yeah.”

“Okay.”

Jake brought her to her feet,
wrapping two arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. It smelled of
the same fruity fragrance he was becoming familiar with. It was intoxicating.
She placed a gentle kiss on his neck, bringing him back to life, and making him
think about things no man has a right thinking with a drunken woman in his
arms. He’d done a lot of things with a woman, but that was not one of them. His
dad would be cursing him from above for just the thought of it. He sent a
silent prayer up above, “Sorry, dad.”

“Can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, go ahead. I don’t have a tub,
you know.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m still going to
kill you for that.”

Chapter Eleven

Anna walked back into the living room
fifteen minutes later. His head was hung low, over his third cup of coffee. He
snapped his head up as soon as he heard her patter her way into the room.

“Hey…what the hell?”

She stood there in front of him
butt-naked with her damp hair brushed back. Her face was rid of tears and
mascara, allowing him to see her beautiful features. Her breasts were erect,
making him become the same. Taking a ragged breath, he let his gaze go lower.
She was curvier than he remembered, but it made her look like a normal
woman—just like he liked them.

Anna wrapped her arms around her
mid-section and dipped her chin toward the floor. Jake instinctively grabbed
the blanket still lying on floor and hurried to his feet, wrapping the fabric
around her.

“I’m-m n-not,” she stammered, “what
you’re used to?”

“No, you’re not.” And that was the
God’s honest truth. She was in every way not what he was used to. Her body was
magnificent.

“How dare you?” She wiped a few tears
from her cheek. “How humiliating. You sure know how to let a girl down easy.”
Then she quickly turned away from him.

He caught her by the shoulder,
yanking her around. It was important to him that he looked her in the eye when
he said this, “Anna, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. You were right when you
said you’re not what I’m used to. You are more—you’re beautiful.”

“Why aren’t you excited to see me,
then? I thought this is what you wanted?”

“Honey, I am more than excited to see
you—just look down.” Her face flushed. “That’s what you do to me every time I
see you, touch you…and even think about you. This,” he pointed between him and
her, “is not what I wanted for us. At least not tonight. I want to take care of
you. Not take you to bed.”

“Oh. I just thought—” He cut her off
by giving her a soft kiss on the lips. It was over before it started, but had
the same effect as if he’d thrown her down on the floor and explored every part
of her mouth.

“That is the most I had planned for
us tonight. When we do more, it won’t be because you are drunk, feeling brave,
and trying to be someone you’re not. It will be because you want me as much as
I want you. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Why don’t you go grab some jogging
pants and a T-shirt out of my second drawer and come watch old
Roseanne
episodes with me? I’m staying in
your old bedroom.”

* * * *

Her old bedroom…he was sleeping in
her old room? She didn’t know if she should feel turned on at the thought of
him sleeping between the walls she’d once stayed in, or disgusted at the thought
of him being exposed to such filth. Of course, he didn’t know what had gone on
behind that door, but in some strange way, it seemed like a betrayal on his
part that he could stay in that room and not be able to feel what had gone on
in there.

Anna walked into the bedroom, feeling
a swarm of emotions she’d been trying to bury for most of her life.

So much for not being affected by
this house.

It was understandable that she
wouldn’t feel comfortable in her old room. Her stomach did a free fall, causing
her to feel sick—and it wasn’t because of the alcohol this time. She needed to
get a grip. That little girl no longer existed, and Anna had more control over
her life now.

The room was closing in on her. The
bed was in the same place, in the center of the room, with a small nightstand
to the right. A dresser was on the opposite wall by the door with a tube-style
television sitting on top of it. The walls were painted the same light shade of
purple she and her mother had picked out together, only now it was faded and
stained from age. It was amusing to picture Jake sleeping in such a girly room.
Her room would have looked exactly the same if it wasn’t for the ball caps
hanging on the bedposts and the navy blue comforter covering the bed. It didn’t
look like a room a ballplayer would stay in.

She needed to get out of there. After
pulling open the second drawer, she jerked out the first shirt and jogging
pants she saw, and slipped them on. The pants were way too big, so she tied
them as tightly as she could and hoped they wouldn’t fall to her ankles. She
had already shown him way too much for the night, he didn’t need a repeat—not
that she was sure he would do anything about it, because he’d turned her down
flat the first time.

She made her way back to the living
room, plastering a smile on her face. He didn’t need to see the pain her/his
room caused. He patted the couch next to him, waiting for her to take a seat.
She sat down, trying not to sit too close. While pulling her to him, Jake put
his arm around her shoulders. It was as if he knew just what she needed.

Jake switched the television on,
bringing the screen to his recorded shows. There were ten
Roseanne
episodes recorded. They’d both
watched the show when they were teenagers, but she didn’t realize he still
watched it to the point he recorded every episode that came on. She still
secretly watched the show, too

They sat there not talking, just
watching the dysfunctional family play out their lives. The show always made
her feel like life could always be worse. Your life is what you make of it. As
a child, she hadn’t gotten a choice when it came to her life, but she did now,
and she refused to make nothing of it which would allow her own dysfunctional
family to ruin things for her.

As a teenager she’d wished she had
Jake’s family. He had a mother, a father who taught him to play baseball, and a
brother to fight with. She’d had her mother and she loved her more than
anything. Her mother made life bearable, and she wished she was there now, able
to see the woman she was trying to become. Now, she was alone in the world, and
she was the only one who was going to see what she accomplished and how
unattainable those dreams had once been.

She half-watched three episodes,
partly because of her thoughts, and the other because of lying on Jake. He was
warm and safe. With Jake being there, Anna surprisingly thought of her
childhood home as being safe. It just showed how much she really trusted him.
It was a nice feeling to have for once.

He switched off the television. “I
don’t know about you, but it’s been a long day. You ready to get some sleep?”

“Yeah. Sleep sounds good.” She sat
up, stretching out her arms, pretending the thought of sleep was overtaking her
as well. Even though she knew sleep was going to be impossible. Her insomnia
and need for sleeping meds was something very few knew about, and she planned
to keep it that way.

“I don’t know what you want to do.
You want to sleep in my bed with me—nothing more, I promise—or I can sleep in
here and you take the bed? Whichever you feel comfortable with is fine with
me.”

“I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“What? No. You take my bed. It’s
fine…I promise.”

She couldn’t sleep in that room. It
just wasn’t going to happen. Even after the three dates when she moved back in,
she had no plans of sleeping in her old bedroom. There was no good that could
possibly come from putting herself though that. So instead of telling him the
truth, she said, “Jake, I don’t want to be another woman who is in your bed.
I’ll just sleep on the couch, okay?”

“Come on, Anna. Can we just table
that conversation tonight?”

“I’m not trying to bring any thing
up. I just want to sleep out here. I constantly toss and turn, and I’ll just
keep you up all night anyway.”

“I can’t let you do that. I’ve passed
out on it several times and can tell you it’s not exactly sleeping material.
Stop being stubborn and take my bed.”

“I can’t, Jake. Please just go to
bed.” Her voice was more of a plea than anything. After giving her a gentle
kiss on the forehead, he stood. “Goodnight, Anna.” He walked to the kitchen,
probably turning off the coffee pot. Giving her one last look, he started for
the hallway.

“Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for tonight.”

“It was nothing. See ya in the
morning.” With that he walked away, leaving her in the glow of a lamp by the
couch.

“Now, what am I going to do?” The
clock above the television read two thirty. Sunrise wouldn’t come for a while.
She didn’t have anything to take for sleep. She waited about thirty minutes,
making sure Jake was asleep before tiptoeing to the kitchen. She turned on the
light and went to the cabinet that was used for a medicine cabinet when she
lived there. There was some hard liquor on the top shelf, but she’d had enough
of that for a lifetime. Just below that shelf sat what she needed.
  
She took two with water.

Anna walked quietly back to the couch
and lay there staring at the ceiling. What a night, she thought. It had all
started with her filling the chip bowl and ended with her naked in front of
Jake. Tomorrow she was going to feel the humiliation of her actions, but for
now, she needed to concentrate on sleep. She was going to need her strength to
face Jake, Em, Jesse, and Bradley.

Crap…did she really hit on Bradley?
She could vaguely remember their conversation, but she knew it was not going to
be one of her finest moments. How was she going to face him? He was Jake’s
brother, for God’s sake. Tomorrow was going to be bad. She wasn’t a good, fun
drunk—she was just plain embarrassing. And…she’d forgotten about what had
gotten this thing started—Cara.

She’d been caught off guard by the
sight of the woman who had been quick to give Jake something Anna never had.
She’d felt good, and the words had just started spilling out, literally. In the
past, she’d never gotten the chance to take up for herself, and it was overdue.
She wasn’t embarrassed about that…no, she felt liberated, strong, and like the
type of woman who could throw a penis-themed party.

Maybe.

An hour later, she rolled over on her
side, holding tightly to the blanket, and fell deeply asleep.

* * * *

Anna thought she was going to be
sick. The smell of bacon being fried was overtaking her senses, and she
couldn’t control the substance rising from her stomach to her mouth. Leaving
her makeshift bed on Jake’s couch, she stumbled her way down the hall to the
bathroom, thankfully not stubbing a big toe in the process.

Way to be positive.

The need for air was essential if she
didn’t want Jake to see her hurl for a second time. She shut the door, washed
her hands, and splashed cold water on her face…all without looking at her
reflection in the mirror. The feeling of the water was cool on her skin,
causing the vomiting sensation to subside for the time being. She knew it would
show its ugly head again whenever the notion took. Leaving the bathroom, she
headed for the kitchen. What time was it? How could anybody be up this early
cooking? The thought was inconceivable.

“What are you doing?” Anna walked in
the kitchen holding her stomach, knowing she resembled death, or at least close
to it.

“Making breakfast. Want some coffee?”

“Yes, please. Have any creamer?”

“Don’t have creamer, but I do have
milk.”

Jake sounded way too perky for her
liking. She was not a morning person, and she only hoped he didn’t expect good
company. If so, he wasn’t getting it. She wanted to sit in silence drinking her
coffee. After two cups she might be up for talking—but not before then.

“That’ll do.” He poured her a cup and
turned back to frying bacon. Thank God, no talking.

“How’d you sleep? It probably sucked,
huh?”

The morning routine she’d adopted
many years ago was obviously not going to happen.