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Authors: MK Schiller

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BOOK: The Other C-Word
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He smiled genuinely. “And what about you, Marley?”

“Rick, you impressed me when you managed to get me out of kidnapping charges at the airport.”

He laughed, pulling me into his arms.

“So, am I going to get my fancy dinner tomorrow?” I asked, nuzzling his neck.

“Yes, but let’s do some other stuff too.”

“What did you have in mind, cowboy?” I asked huskily.

“Oh, baby, you know there’s always that, but get your mind out of the gutter.” Rick brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “This is your city, what do you like to do?”

“You’re asking a girl what she likes to do? Are you prepared to spend ten hours at a mall?”

He shook his head, smiling cynically. “Marley, is that really what you like to do?”

Rick knew me so well. “No.”

“Then what, baby? Tell me.”

“I like to go to the museums, the zoo, Navy Pier…” Once I got started, it was a lengthy list. “I want to jump out of a plane.”

He stepped back, cocking his eyebrows. “Are you an adrenaline junkie?”

“Not really, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do, and no one will do it with me. Everyone in my family thinks it’s insane. Will you do it? Will you jump out of a plane with me?”

“Let’s keep that one on the maybe list.”

“Are you scared of heights?” I asked in disbelief.

“Not exactly. It’s just not that appealing to me. Everything else sounds fun though. Make a list, okay?”

“Okay, but I’m seriously just happy having dinner and…dessert with you, especially German Chocolate cake.”

Rick laughed. “Me too, Marley, but I think we should do more than that. I want to make some memories with you.”

The idea was bittersweet. It reminded me that Rick was a moment in time for me. Temporary was what I wanted too, so I had no idea why I was so depressed.

“Hey,” Rick said, lifting my chin to meet his eyes. “I have to go to
New York
this weekend.”

“Why?” There was a desperate hysteria in my question, and I hated myself for it.

“I have some things to take care of at home. I usually go home a lot more than this when I’m on assignment in the States. A certain irresistible girl has been keeping me occupied.” He pressed a kiss against my cheek. “Also, I promised a friend I’d go to his engagement party this weekend.”

“Sounds like fun,” I said, trying to ply my voice with enthusiasm.

“Come with me.”

I experienced a fleeting moment of happiness at the invitation. It was so fast that I wanted to swat the air to catch it again. “I can’t.”

“Come with me, sweetheart. You can see my place, I can show you my town and introduce you to some of my friends.”

“Stevie needs my help with wedding stuff this weekend,” I blurted out.

He searched my face, but nodded in understanding. I breathed a sigh of relief and immediately regretted it when Rick’s expression registered hurt. My sigh had just confirmed for him that I was lying. Thankfully, Rick was too much of a gentleman to say anything.

Open mouth—insert one fierce, Michael Kors platform heel.

“I understand. We’ll just stick to your list then. One question though…” He pulled me in for a long kiss until I broke us apart.

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about phone sex?”

I slapped his chest playfully. “Oh, that sounds stupid.” Rick’s face fell in obvious disappointment. I stood on my tiptoes so I could get close to his ear. “Why would we have phone sex when we can have video sex? You’re so old fashioned, Rick!”

He chuckled, bringing his mouth to my earlobe. “You’re such a smart girl.”

“Rick, we have to stop making out in my driveway.”

“Why is that?”

“We have an audience,” I explained, pointing to the picture window. All six pairs of eyes saw me gesturing to them and scattered in ten directions, except for Van Morrison, who remained perched on the windowsill, happily licking himself.

* * * *

It took all but two minutes for Billie and Stevie to stomp into my room after Rick had left.

“Dish now!” Stevie demanded, climbing into my bed.

“Nope, no dessert, no dish,” I replied, nonchalantly.

Billie revealed a bakery box from behind her back. “We’ve got contraband,” she said, opening it.

I gasped at the sugary, powdery doughnuts inside. I’m sure they were chocked full of milk and eggs and white sugar. My mom would probably faint at the sight. They might as well have slaughtered a cow in our living room. I reached in to grab one and Billie closed the lid on my hand. “Nope, not until you dish.”

“What the hell! You’ve already met him and asked him a million questions. What can I possibly tell you?” I pouted, leaning back on my bed. I took one of my Velcro handcuffs, turning it around in my hand. My mom had found them for me. They were soft and adjustable, so I wouldn’t hurt myself during nightmares, but they had a tendency to redden my wrists.

Stevie took it out of my hand and replaced it with a doughnut. “He’s ridiculously hot.” I had to smile at that because Stevie was fussy about what constituted attractiveness in the opposite sex. It confirmed that it wasn’t just my imagination that Rick was super sexy.

“He drives a Beemer,” Billie added.

“He knows how to dress,” Stevie supplemented.

“He brought you that cute cactus plant. It’s quirky like you, Marley!” Billie said as if that was a telltale sign of Rick’s awesomeness. Well, I guess in a way, it was.

“What’s your point, cowards? Just ask me.”

“How is he in bed?” they asked in ridiculous unison as if they’d been practising it. They probably had.

I swallowed the doughnut, trying not to choke on it. I should have expected this question. My sisters had never once met a guy I’d been interested in. Now that they had, they wanted all the delicious details.

“Nope, I’m not gonna tell,” I replied, wiping sugar off my lip.

“Why?” Stevie wailed. “I tell you all about what Adam and I do.”

I grimaced. “And I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Oh, come on, give us something. We’re already going to kick Dillon off the island for being so silent about this,” Billie said, bouncing up and down on my bed as if she was eight instead of eighteen.

“Okay, why don’t we talk about this first though?” I held up my handcuff. “It’s the reason you guys don’t want to move out, right?”

They both shut up, gawking at me sheepishly. “Marley, I like living at home,” Stevie finally said half-heartedly.

“Jesus, Stevie! You’re freaking twenty-three and about to be married. I know you and Adam have good jobs, and he has no interest in moving in with us. You need your own place.”

“I agree with Marley,” Billie asserted.

“And you, young lady, need to go to
Columbia
!” I screamed at her.

“Why?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes. Her pouty stance only made me laugh.

“Because, little bird, it’s what Jo did. It’s what you want to do. It’s what you’ve always wanted to do. I’m not so fucked up that you have to put your lives on hold.”

Stevie took the cuff out of my hand again. She squared my shoulder, staring at me hard. “There is nothing wrong with you. Do you understand that, Marley? This total hottie likes you and you like him. You’re going to fuck that up because you think there is something wrong with you. Billie and I can make our own decisions, so leave it alone.”

It was disconcerting to have your younger sister speak to you like that, but then again, Stevie and I had always regarded each other as equals. It hurt more that Billie was also chiding me.

“Marley, let’s talk about the future later, we want to know about the present. There’s a chocolate crème in here just for you. You might as well tell us, because we have ways of making you talk.”

I eyed the box carefully, wondering which of the remaining doughnuts held the chocolate I so desired.

I stood up, walking over to my iPod on the dresser. “I’m not giving details, but why should I?” They both had such disappointed expressions that it was hard not to laugh. I flipped through my playlist. “Why should I need to spell it out when two sisters by the name of Ann and Nancy Wilson have so clearly written about it?” I found the song and turned it up to the loudest volume setting. My room filled up with the sweet, sultry lyrics of
Magic
Man
.

Billie and Stevie burst out laughing. I knew they got the message I was conveying. We did this all the time. Why say it when you could sing it, dance it and feel it? That’s just what we did. We floated around my room like three little giddy girls to the sound of
Magic Man
.

Chapter Twelve

Rick and I decided to stay in. He was back from
New York
and we’d been busy going on dates that ended so late it was difficult justifying returning to his apartment only for me to leave again. We both craved sex more than anything else tonight. We spooned on the bed, my back against his chest while he lazily traced figure eight patterns on my arm. I was satisfied and sated, but sad too, because I had to leave soon.

He stroked my hair and pressed sweet kisses into my neck. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” I replied, shifting closer to him, wanting to feel his body against mine.

“Why don’t you ever want to spend the night with me?”

I tensed immediately and Rick felt it too, because he tightened his arms around me, drawing me closer. “I’m sorry to bring it up again. I’m just curious because we’ve crossed all the other barriers. I’ve taken you on dates, I’ve asked you a million personal questions without you passing on me and I’ve even met your family. Marley, I want you to spend the night with me.”

“Why is it such a big deal to you?”

“Because I love making love to you. I think I’d also love to watch you sleep and wake up next to you.” He trailed kisses down my shoulder. “I promise to wake you up in the most pleasant way.”

“Rick, I like my own bed. I’m very particular,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

“Okay, fine. Are you ready to go then?” The irritation in his voice made me wince. I knew his aggravation was more than just wanting me to spend the night. He knew I was lying. He was very good at ferreting out my deceptions, and it bothered me that I was so visible. At least to him, I was.

I turned around and embraced him, hoping it would serve as a nonverbal apology. I traced his tattoo with my fingertips as I so often did during these times. It calmed me, too.

“What were your parents like?” I asked in an obvious ploy to change the subject.

Rick smiled wistfully. “They were great parents. Do you believe in soul mates?”

I shot him a sarcastic glance. “Did you forget who you were talking to, Rick?”

“Oh right, you don’t even believe in dating. Anyway, I know the soul mate thing isn’t just hot air.”

“How do you know that?”

“My parents were soul mates. They had everything against them. My mother was from a strict Roman Catholic family, and my father was Jewish. Their parents disowned them when they got married.”

“They disowned them because they loved each other?”

“My father’s family disowned him because they were rich and Jewish, and she was poor and Catholic. My mother’s family disowned her because she was pregnant with me. Despite their differences in religion and economic background, their young ages and being saddled with a kid, they were totally in love. Anyone who knew them could see it. They were always holding hands and kissing. She put him through school, and then he returned the favour for her. They supported each other in every way, and I think that’s rare. Even my last name was a symbol of their love. They created it as a mix between both their names. His name was Randle, and hers was Dykeman. They came up with Randy. The other meaning of it became their personal joke. They figured they didn’t need to keep their family’s names since the three of us were the only family we needed.”

“Kind of like a super couple name, like Brangelina?”

He laughed. “I prefer to think it’s far more romantic than that.”

“It is. I’m sorry. It’s hard for my cynical head to grasp such amorous sentiments.”

He kissed my forehead and twirled a piece of my hair with his finger. “I like your cynical head. It balances my idealistic one.”

“You were so young when they died. It must have been difficult for you. You don’t have to talk about it, but if you want to, I’m here.”

The joy in remembering his parents left his face immediately, replaced with sorrow. “Life can play some really cruel jokes. My parents saved up and on their sixteenth wedding anniversary, they went on the honeymoon they never had to Hawaii. I was finally old enough, and they deemed sufficiently responsible to be on my own for a week. It was the first vacation they’d gone on, just the two of them. It was their dream trip. They were taking a puddle jumper plane from one island to the next. It’s such a routine flight. They do a million of them a year. It just so happened they took the one plane in the last decade that had a faulty engine and a drunken pilot.” Rick laughed cynically. It was a bitter laugh with no humour. “What were the chances that they would decide that day to go to visit another island, to jump on that plane, to be with that pilot?”

I felt the trickle of a tear running down my face. I buried my face in his chest, not wanting him to feel any sadder. I almost wanted to tell him to stop talking, but I didn’t want him to do that either. I wanted to know him, even though I couldn’t let him know me.

“I was pretty pissed off after that. I felt like life dealt me an unfair hand. I just got even angrier when all the grandparents showed up to the funeral. The same ones that wanted nothing to do with my parents for the last sixteen years. They cast them out of their lives, and as a result, me too. Now that my parents were dead, they suddenly wanted back in. I wish I could say I was better than they were, but I wasn’t. I caused an ugly scene and if anyone had listened to me, I would have kicked them all out. I said some horrible things to them and made a mockery out of my parent’s funeral. That’s the thing I’ll always regret the most.”

“Rick, you were just a kid, and you’d lost your parents. I don’t think your reaction was completely unwarranted.”

He was quiet for a moment, possibly pondering my statement.

“Who did you stay with?” I asked timidly, not sure if he wanted to keep talking. He lazily drew a figure eight on my back and kissed my temple.

“My father’s father was the only family willing to take me in. They actually all were until that scene at the funeral home. Then it was just him. My choices were to live with him or go to foster care. I could have emancipated myself too, but I had no money to live on my own. I opted to live with him. We lived together, and he tried to apologise to me with words and expensive gifts. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. I felt like it would be betraying my parents in some way. I lived with him for two years in a mansion that was full of regret and resentment. His regret for disowning his son and my resentment for the same thing.

“He paid for my bachelors and my masters. I let him, figuring I deserved it. It was his repentance, but I shouldn’t have been as cruel as I was. I never once thanked him or forgave him. That was, until he was on his deathbed. He actually left me the bulk of his estate, but the best thing he gave me was that last piece of advice. I know he’d said it before, but I was so angry I never fully grasped it. He said, ‘son, I know you don’t consider me family and that pain I’ll take to my grave. Let me just tell you this though, never turn your back on somebody you love, you’ll never forgive yourself’. That’s what I’ll remember the most. Hearing it again when he was ready to die let me forgive him and helped me to move on. Does that make any sense?”

I swallowed, choking back a sob. “I think it makes perfect sense. I’m sorry, Rick.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it was a long time ago, and we all need tragedy in our lives.”

“Why do you think we need tragedy?”

“Because it makes us the people we are. It makes us more real. You can’t experience the power of healing if you’ve never been broken, right?”

I started audibly sobbing and cursed myself for it. I couldn’t wipe the tear away fast enough before another took its place.

“Hey, I made you cry. I didn’t mean to.” He kissed away my tears. “You missed the most important point of my story, Marley.”

“What’s that?” I croaked.

“I’m filthy rich,” he teased, kissing away the rest of my tears. He was trying to make me laugh, and it worked.

“Oh yeah? Then why aren’t you a man of leisure?”

“I was, for a year when I first got the money. I told people I was finding myself, but really, I was just bumming around
Europe
, drinking like a fish, and hanging out with soccer hooligans.”

“Soccer hooligans? I can’t picture that.”

“It’s true, but I changed my tune after a while. My parents were hardworking people, and what I was doing was disrespectful to their memory and not the way they raised me. I went to Harvard for my bachelors and Stanford for my masters. I had high marks, so I obtained a job at Lehman Brothers. It was a great job, and I moved up fast. I discovered I was good at fixing problems. Not good enough to fix the mess they were in, but enough so that when they went bankrupt, I decided to branch out on my own. I guess that’s my life story, not that you asked.”

“I did ask and I’m happy to know it. I have just one question though.”

“What’s that, baby?”

“If you’re so rich, then why are you so cheap?” I replied, putting my arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’m going to show you cheap, you little gold-digger.” He tickled me, until I laughed like a hyena.

* * * *

The next few weeks passed by in a blur of activity. I saw Rick on an almost daily basis, but now we met up with Stevie and Adam or Billie and Dillon, frequently. It was strange that not only was I dating, I was double dating. It was something Stevie and I had always talked about as little girls, but I couldn’t believe we were actually doing it. Rick and Adam sometimes hung out and did guy things too. I was glad they liked each other, but the shape of my relationship with Rick was anything but casual now. He had become a part of my life and in a way that I didn’t mind. Rick came over for dinner regularly, and he seemed to appreciate my whacky family. I still wouldn’t spend the night with him, but thankfully, he no longer made the request.

I asked Rick to be my date for Stevie’s wedding. Actually, she invited him, informing him he was my plus one. Stevie was bossy with everyone.

I walked into Rick’s office one day to put away some catalogues when I noticed he’d fallen asleep at his chair. I quietly bent down to look at him. I’d never seen him asleep. He looked so peaceful and sweet like this. The poor man had to be tired. He was always at the office before me, and I knew he stayed much later than I did, often coming back to work after taking me out. He was a complete workaholic, and it was obvious
Henley
was getting his money’s worth. I stroked the soft, sandy hair over his forehead, pressing a kiss against his temple. When I moved back to look at him, his lids suddenly popped open, revealing the most beautiful, glassy green eyes staring right at me. Rick screamed and pushed me away. I unceremoniously landed straight on my ass.

”What the hell were you doing?” he grumbled, standing up.

“I was making sure you weren’t dead.” I realised how stupid it sounded as soon as the words left my mouth.

“I was breathing wasn’t I?” He looked down at me, and his face softened instantly. He offered me his hand. “I’m sorry, but you scared me. Are you okay, Marley?”

He lifted me up and embraced me. He caressed my behind, soothing the area where I’d landed. I looked towards the door because we were in a compromising position.

“Did you hurt yourself, baby?”

“No, except for my eardrums when you screamed. You scream like a girl,” I teased, hoping it would distract from the fact that I was gawking at him in his sleep.

Rick laughed. “Yeah, I guess that happens when I wake up to someone staring at me. Even someone as beautiful as you. I like hearing you scream better, especially when it’s my name.”

I pushed him away from me and sauntered out to my desk.

“Marley?”

I turned around, giving him a placating smile.

“I don’t mind if you watch me sleep, but perhaps you’ll return the favour one day. I want to know how you say my name when you’re dreaming.”

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