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Chapter 7
Tess
Settling into the chair next to Sal’s bed, I set my tea and toast on a side table. It’s Saturday. My mom pretty much hasn’t left the house all week. It’s my turn to watch over my stepdad while she runs some errands.
“I’ll be back in about two hours.” She picks up her purse hanging next to the front door. “Make sure to call me if anything happens.” Sal has been getting worse. She doesn’t want him to pass away while she’s getting groceries, but she also needs to take care of herself so she’s strong enough to be there for him. There’s no right answer, and the strain is taking its toll.
“I will, Mom. I promise I’ll be right here.”
She leaves and I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes. Sal has been sleeping most of the day. He saves his best energy for my mom. Not that he’s able to actually do much, but the love in his eyes when he looks at her is enough.
My mind and emotions are all over the place. The contrast between home and work is staggering. Right now, home is a place of sadness—like we’re just waiting for a tsunami of grief to overwhelm us. Whereas at work, I’m walking on cloud nine. I enjoy my job, I’m making great connections for my career, and—let’s not dance around it—Rand gives me orgasms. Lots and lots of orgasms.
Not just the ones in his office, either. No. We spent the day in a haze of hedonism, with an extra dose of possessiveness from Rand. At lunch, he took us out and fingered me under the table until I creamed my non-existent panties. When we got back to the office, he told my supervisor he needed me as an assistant for the day. We ended up getting some work done—if you call him eating me out in the conference room “work.” By the end of the day I was sore, sweaty, and satisfied.
Rand didn’t want to let me go, asking if I would join him for the weekend. When I had to refuse, I could tell he was disappointed but that he understood. The whole reason I’m here is to help my mom. Weekends are reserved for her.
I stayed a little late in the building, hoping to miss the rush of people leaving at five. It worked, mostly. I ran into Jesse in the elevator on the way down. He just shook his head at me, grinning as I blushed.
Hell, I’m blushing right now. Spending the entire day basically naked with my ruggedly handsome boss felt naughty, dirty, and sinful—and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
For the next couple hours, I let my mind wander through memories and daydreams. Making sure to check on Sal every so often. When my mom gets home, we eat some food she brought home and then I head upstairs. She likes to have some alone time with Sal, understandably.
The rest of the weekend goes the same way—my mom and I taking turns with Sal while the other showers, makes a meal, or takes a walk. Which is what I’m doing when I get a call from my mom on Sunday evening.
“Tess, you’d better come home. Sal just passed away.” She sounds sad and wistful, like if she doesn’t cry too loudly, then the pain will go away.
“What?” I spin on my heel, speed-walking in the direction of home. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Tears run down my face as I hurry home. My mom married Sal after I graduated high school. My parents divorced when I was little, so I was actually glad that she found someone. Sal and I weren’t particularly close, but I knew his death would devastate my mom.
By the time I got home, the hospice nurse had already arrived. Sal lies still on his bed, finally at peace. My first instinct is to hug my mom, but she looks like she’s barely holding it together. Instead, I ask her, “Do you want me to take care of the things on the list?”
She nods silently, still holding Sal’s hand.
I pull up the list we made when I first moved in—who to notify, where to send the obituary, setting up the funeral, etc. I’m halfway through the calls when I realize I’m supposed to go to work tomorrow. That isn’t happening.
I quickly send an email to my supervisor, notifying her of the circumstances and that I won’t be in the next day. Her email back offers her condolences and tells me to take as long as I need since the company offers bereavement leave. Then it’s back to the list, making sure extended family and friends have gotten the news.
By nine o’clock, I’m exhausted. Mom took care of Sal while the appropriate people did their stuff. I made the calls. Neither of us have eaten, and I don’t think we’re going to. I feel a pat on my head and turn to see my mom head silently up the stairs.
Numb, I stare at the blank television screen. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting there when I hear a whimper from upstairs. Poor mom. I can’t even imagine how she must feel right now. My chest feels aching and empty, and it wasn’t my husband who passed away. I can’t even begin to make decisions about my own future beyond being here for my mom tomorrow.
After that, who knows? I could end up staying here with her for a while to help her out, or I might move back and finish my degree. Everything is available, yet nothing appeals at the moment. Not even a sexy romp with Rand. It was a fun diversion, but now real life is back stronger than ever. Those few days with Rand were great, but they weren’t real.
This is real.
Mom crying in the bathroom is real.
My eyes aching with unshed tears is real.
Rand was a fantasy. I'm glad for the time we spent together, but I understood from the beginning that I would eventually have to come back to reality. And here I am.
