Rivals (2 page)

“The house likes me. She doesn’t like you.”

“What the hell did I ever do to her?” she shrilled.

“Besides that little stunt you
almost
just pulled.” He nodded to the door.

“What?” She shrugged and moved to the couch. “I didn’t hurt anything.” Cori crouched on the cushion next to him.

“Hey, shoes off or sit right,” he said pointing to her scruffy tennis shoes on his fine leather. Cori rolled her eyes. She was amazed at how quickly he had adapted to and adopted Danato’s OCD cleanliness. “You are disorganized and messy. You punched a hole in her wall.”

“I never did that,” Cori objected as she slipped her tennis shoes off and tossed them to the floor. 

“The first night you were here, you punched a hole in the office wall. It made an impression on her.”

“Oh!” She thought about that a moment while she repositioned herself to sit Indian style on the couch. “I didn’t know the house could… Did that hurt her?” she asked, suddenly concerned about every supposedly harmless act of violence against inanimate objects in the house. 

“I’m not sure it was physically painful,” Ethan said. “But she is a very emotional being. I think you hurt her feelings.”

“Oh.” She thought about that. “Can she hear us?” Cori whispered.

Ethan laughed. “No, she’s just a presence. If the house is clean and in good order, she is happy. If not, the degree of sloppiness will determine if she’s sad or mad.”

“So, to get my room expanded, I have to clean it.”

“Yup.” Ethan nodded. “Show appreciation for what she has offered you.”

With a quick movement, Cori grabbed the chips and ran to the door. Ever prepared for her tactical maneuvers, Ethan tackled her before she could reach the door. The bag of chips landed beneath them both with a devastating crunch. “You smashed them!” she yelled.

“I did? You’re on top of them,” Ethan protested.

“And you’re on top of me. Ergo, get off me!” 

Ethan rolled off her. Cori rolled off the bag of chips. They examined the downed comrade between them with disappointment. 

Cori got up and dusted herself off. “You can have them.”

“Not hungry anymore?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah, but without the crunch, what’s the point?” Cori shrugged and left.

She went to her bedroom to prepare for bed. She grabbed her pajamas and slipped out of her t-shirt and jeans. As usual, she tossed them on the floor nowhere near the hamper. She slipped on her pajamas.

She looked down at the discarded clothes. Determined to turn over a new leaf of order and cleanliness, she picked them up to place them in the bathroom hamper. As she did, she noticed a red stain on the back of her shirt. It looked like blood.

“Shit.” She ran to her bathroom mirror to check her back for cuts, but there wasn’t a scratch on her. She quickly retraced her steps, and realized that she wasn’t the source of the blood. “Idiot!” she hissed.

She reached below the sink and found her handy-dandy first aid kit. After several trips to the infirmary, it was clear that more paperwork was involved in getting hurt than dying. Therefore, unless you are dying, you don’t go to the infirmary. To save a few trees, and her sanity, she kept a few basic supplies at home. In case she had any incidents.

Cori stepped back across the hall and found her shoes just outside Ethan’s door. She knocked. “Look down,” he voiced from inside.

“Open up,” she said quietly, so she didn’t disturb Danato any further than they already had. She was surprised he hadn’t come upstairs to break up their scuffle. He didn’t like it when they got into physical fights. Danato knew better than anyone how strong Ethan was, and if he didn’t restrain himself in their playful banters, he could really hurt her. So far, he hadn’t. Since this was only one of a series of fights they had been having the last few weeks, Danato was probably sick of intervening.

“You can’t have the chips,” he said, muffled by the door and the handful of chips he most likely just put in his mouth.

“Open up or I’ll tell Danato you need to go to the infirmary.” A moment later the door unlatched and opened a crack. Ethan peeked out with one glaring eye. The other eye was likely glaring too, but she could only see the one. “I know you’re hurt,” she said, using her best maternal voice: the best combination of sweetness and
don’t make me come in there
.

“I’m fine.”

“As soon as I determine that for myself, then we can both go on with our lives.” After a long pause with no response, Cori opened her mouth to holler downstairs to Danato. Ethan opened the door wide and yanked her inside.

She chuckled at their common hatred of infirmary paperwork as she put her kit down on the end table. She opened it to reveal a plethora of stolen medical supplies. She even had syringes. Yes, she was willing to inject herself with sharp pointy metal to avoid paperwork. Apparently Ethan felt the same way.

He studied her stash while he crunched on chip debris.

“Take your shirt off,” she requested and turned to see a rather devious smile on his face.

“Don’t you want to take it off for me?” He perked his brow. She didn’t rise to his baiting. Instead, she gave him her best maternal stare: the best combination of compassion and
do you really want to mess with me.
He groaned and sat down on the couch. “Can’t you just leave me the box?”

“If it’s not that bad, you can do it yourself. Take your shirt off. I do have sedatives in here.”

With another grumble that turned into a hiss, he removed the black t-shirt, which didn’t appear ripped, but she could tell now that the moisture she had earlier mistaken for sweat was actually blood. A long gash crossed his sternum high on his chest. “Damn it, Ethan.” She couldn’t help but whine. The cut was deep enough that she considered braving the paperwork.

“What?” he asked with ignorance to her vexation.

“What?” she mocked. “You need stitches for that.”

“How can you tell?” He looked down.

“I can see bone, dipshit.” She shook her head as she gathered her items. After sterilizing her needle and thread, she brought the alcohol to him. He shook his head with the grimace of a child refusing to take his medicine even before the spoon was offered. “Don’t be a baby; sit on your hands so you’re not tempted to defend yourself.”

He groaned and sat on his hands. She looked around him, trying to figure out how she should position herself to do her work.

Ethan laughed at her. “Oh, just straddle me. You know it’s easier.”

“Yeah, yeah, try to keep your comments to yourself.”

“It won’t be my comments–” He stopped short and shook his head, refusing to say more.

“Thank you.” She straddled him as he had suggested and used his shirt to catch the excess alcohol so it didn’t get on the couch. “You went through the glass in the airlock doors, didn’t you? That’s how you got ahead of me so fast.”

“Yeah.”

“All that just to beat me?”

His face crinkled with confusion. “No, all that for the job. If I slowed down every time I might get hurt I’d be at a full stop before I started.”

She poured the liquid pain onto his wound and his head bucked back. His neck muscles contracted as he clenched his jaw. She poured again. He growled, but released his jaw. On the third splash, he was able to bring his head back to face her.

She proceeded to sew together the biggest part of the laceration to get the tissue aligned. As she focused on her medical work, she felt him watching her with the same intensity. She pressed on his chest each time she needed to suture the cut. She could feel his heart pounding against her fingers. He was warm too. She wasn’t sure why that surprised her, but it did. She could feel his sinewy muscle under smooth soft skin. The muscles that she had been eyeing appreciatively earlier that day.

He’s dead.

She shook the harsh reality from her mind.

“What’s wrong?” Ethan asked softly. “Why do you keep doing that?”

She looked at him. “It’s nothing, I just have this thought that keeps rattling in my head. I’m trying not to let it interfere with my life, but it just pops in there.”

“What thought?”

Cori’s face melted, and she broke eye contact. “Vince,” she whispered, almost ashamed to bring it up to him. She knew Ethan resented everything about Vince and her time with him, so she tried not to broach the subject around him.

Even Danato tiptoed around the topic. She wasn’t sure if it was for her sake or Ethan’s, but either way, Danato didn’t express sentiment well. He was a teddy bear with the emphasis on
bear
. 

“That sounds like a reasonable topic to have rattling around in your head. You sound embarrassed by it.”

Cori scoffed as she motioned to their position. “I’m ashamed because I’m straddling a half-naked man on his couch. I don’t know if I feel guilty because I’m here with you thinking of him, or…” Whatever amusement she found in the situation was lost. “…or because I’m here with you
not
thinking of him.”

Ethan pulled his hands free and rubbed her arms. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Cori. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

She wasn’t sure he would say that if he knew what thoughts had prompted the reminder. “I feel sad when I think about him, and I feel guilty when I don’t think about him, but I feel like a complete jerk when I think about other… futures without him.” Translation: she felt like a tramp when she found herself admiring another man when Vince had only died a few months ago.

Ethan squeezed her arms. “You will have a future without him. That is inevitable. I know everyone always says that ‘he would want you to be happy,’ but the bottom line is, he is no longer here to induce your happiness.”

He’s dead.

Ethan dragged his hands down her arms to rest against her hips. “When my parents died, I shoved a lot of people away, because I thought they were trying to replace them. I didn’t want anyone to replace my parents. Unfortunately, I pushed too hard for too long, and I lost out on a lot of opportunities to be part of a family. I regret it, but I wouldn’t change a single day if it meant losing you.”

Cori swallowed hard at that declaration.

“Or Danato,” he added. “I just mean this is my home now.”  

She nodded and looked down at the intimate positions of their bodies. “How do we do this?”

“What?” Ethan’s eyes bulged from his head.

“We start the day off screaming at each other, then we end up in a pseudo psychiatric session with stitches.”

He shrugged. “We just haven’t figured out our rhythm yet. Maybe someday we’ll find a better way to release all that pent-up rage.” She smiled, catching his eyes with a meaningful glance.

He was right. They
were
family. She had refused to see it while she was still pining for her freedom, but now in the wake of tragedy, it was more evident. Ethan was loyal and gentle, despite what their bickering brought out in him. She cared for him a good deal, but lately she wasn’t sure how to define those feelings.  

Ethan flinched under her examination and broke the connection prematurely. “I’m going to finish up these stitches.” He took the needle from her. “Why don’t you head to bed?”

“I…” She struggled to counter his dismissal. She wasn’t really ready to be done with the conversation. It was a rare thing for them to converse without arguing. “What did I say?”

He stood up with her still on his lap. He braced her back with one strong arm and let her slide down his body, until her feet touched the floor.

“Nothing. It’s fine. You worked hard today, get some rest. Thank you for the medical care.” He gave her a quick, almost jolting kiss on the cheek before breaking away from her. He disappeared into his bedroom with the needle and a bottle of alcohol.

She wanted to follow him in, to find out what was bothering him, but she decided there could be any number of things bothering him at that point: their almost intimate situation, her ill-timed confession of guilt about her ex. If he had something to say to her, it was unlikely that he would keep it hidden for long.

Instead, she went to bed, with only one thought rolling around in her head.

He’s dead.
       

3

The next morning, Danato poured himself a big bowl of muesli at the dining room table. He had missed the memo the night before about dinner being canceled, so he had gone to bed hungry. Ethan and Cori were finding their own breakfasts as well.

Their arguing was becoming problematic—especially since it was affecting his meals. He knew they needed time to figure each other out. He wanted to give them the space to do that, but he didn’t like that it was taking so long.

Ethan was on the defensive for his job, and Cori was on the offensive for her pride. The fact that Ethan was head over heels in love with her was only adding to the tension. If Cori hadn’t just lost her lover, they might have had a shot at an honest flirtation, but as it was now, they were both dancing around their emotions. The result was weeks upon weeks of bitching and bickering about anything and everything other than their true feelings.