Save Me (10 page)

“I love you Mercy.”  He starred deep into her eyes, into her soul, when he said this.

Did she just hear that?  Did he say the word
LOVE?

“What?” she asked shell shocked.

“I love you,” he repeated softly.

Mercy swallowed hard and her heart sped up as she starred back at his honest eyes.

“I…” she tried to clear her throat.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he smoothed her bangs back from her forehead and kissed her ever so gently.

“But I love you too,” she managed to get the words out overcome by emotion.

“I think we just made this a hell of a lot more complicated.”  Marc crashed his mouth against hers.

“Probably,” Mercy agreed between breathless kisses.

“I’m going to make love to you until the sun comes up.”

“Please,” Mercy enticed.

“I’m going to kiss every square inch of you, taste you, breath you in,
fuck you so long and hard you’ll never want to say goodbye.”

“I already don’t.”

Marc kiss was rough and needy.  And that’s how Mercy felt.  Needy.  Needing him.  Every part of him.

They tossed and turned in the bed, bare of sheets.  Marc repeated the
word “love” repetitively and every time she heard it a little piece of Mercy’s heart broke knowing it was all over the following day.  He fucked her gentle and slow, rough and hard, loving and tender.  And by the time morning came Mercy was sore, but beyond satisfied.  More satisfied and content than she’d ever felt in her life.

Sunlight streamed through the window signaling the end of their time together.  Mark held her tight in his grasp.

“I know I need to go so you can get ready.”

“And Ace will be waiting for your call.”

“Take care of yourself out there.”

“Don’t get yourself hurt.”

“I try.”  Marc nuzzled her.

“Will I ever see you again?” Mercy asked her voice shaking.

“We’d only be prolonging the inevitable.  There’s just no way we could be together.  I’d ruin your life.  You deserve better than me.”

“But I want you.”  Mercy hated that she was falling apart because of a man.  Not any man, Marc.

“You don’t want me.  You deserve an honest man, someone who will make you happy, not someone who will call you from jail.”

“I want the man I know you can be.”

Marc took her lips ending her protest.

“I love you and because of that I have to let you go.”

Tears streamed down Mercy’s eyes.  Marc rose from the bed and clothed his remarkable body.  Mercy watched wanting to remember everything about him.  His tattoos, the way his muscles rippled when he moved.  Once dressed he sat on the edge of the bed, wiped the tears from her face and held her neck.

“Goodbye Mercy.”  He kissed her one last time.

“Goodbye Marc,” she said lowly.  

And with that Marc walked toward the door
, taking one last look from her bedroom doorway, then left.

Mercy heard his Porsche leave the driveway and she completely broke down.  She should have never let it get that far.  The night she went to the race she should have closed the door in his face, said goodbye and never looked back.  Her heart wouldn’t hurt so much if she had.  Now she was paying for her impetuousness.

Mercy cried like a little girl who’d lost her doll until late morning arrived and she had no choice but to get ready.  All she had to bring was clothing, so it wouldn’t take her that long to pack.  Her father had made housing arrangements for her already.  Mercy was packed and ready to go when Kent and Cora showed up to bring her to the airport.

“Ready kiddo?” Kent asked as they stood in the airport lobby.

“Yeah,” she answered monotone.

“Is everything alright?”

No.

“Just nervous about the move,” she lied.

“Kent, you shouldn’t be making her do this.”  Cora crossed her arms and gave Kent a stern glare.

“Mom, I want to go.”  Mercy put her hand on her mother’s forearm.  “Really, I do.”

“Call every night,” Cora said, nearly crying.

“I will.”

“We’ll have a conference call later this week to see how the transition is going,” Kent said.

“Okay Daddy.”

Mercy hugged Kent and Cora and made her way up the stairs to her terminal. 

What seemed like days later, Mercy
was welcomed to the Quesnel, British Columbia, a small city of approximately 22,000 people in its metro area and where the plant was located.

“Mercy?” a woman asked after she retrieved her luggage.

“Yes.”

“Hi, I’m Carrie Snow.  I’m your assistant.”

“Hi Carrie.”  Mercy extended her hand.

“Welcome to Quesnel.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll help you with your bags.”

Carrie was soft spoken and had an easy smile.  Mercy followed Carrie with her rental car to a modest ranch house located on the edge of town and helped her with her luggage again.

“I’ll pick you up around eight tomorrow and get you set up in your office, if that sounds alright.”

“Perfect.  Thank you Carrie.”

“Have a good night ma’am.”  Carrie closed the door.  Mercy walked around her furnished abode.  It was classy and homey at the same time.  Much like her own home.  Her father had done well. 

Mercy plopped down on the couch and dropped her head into her hands.  If it was a new start, why was it all she could think of was the past?  Of Marc.

SURPRISE

Marc

Marc crossed the finish line in victory, as usual.  Why people still raced him should be a mystery.  His car was immediately surrounded by people when he pulled into a parking lot at the finish where a large crowd had gathered.

“Take me baby!” a brunette yelled and flashed him as he slid the car in park.

“He’s mine first!  Marc you can have all this.”  A red head pushed her heaving chest into the driver’s side window.  Marc rolled his eyes.  Just what he wanted.  A two cent whore.

Ace pulled the woman away from the door and opened it.

“My man!” he held his hand up for Marc to bump it.  Marc did so with no enthusiasm.  “That’s what I’m talking about!  You gave
‘em just enough hope before the finish then smoked ‘em!”

Marc said nothing.  He didn’t care.

Another brunette cuddled up to his side.  Marc shrugged her away.  Ace wandered away to the bookie of the event to collect his spoils.  The payoffs weren’t as big because everyone put their money on Marc.  Why wouldn’t they?  He was unbeaten in the past ten races.

“After party at my casa!” Ace yelled.  “You’re coming.  We’re celebrating.”

“Yeah.  Whatever.”

“I’ll ride with you.”  Ace climbed into the Porsche.  Marc sat down and pulled out of the lot.

“What the fuck is up with you?  You look like a little bitch moping around.”

“It’s nothing.”

“The fuck it isn’t.”

“It’s doesn’t matter.  I won, didn’t I.”

“We’ll find a way to raise your spirits tonight.”

“Mhmm.”  Marc agreed not giving a shit.

Ace put on a good after party. His minions picked up enough alcohol to supply spring break in Cancun.

Marc wandered around aimlessly with a Corona in hand.

“Marc,” Ace called.  Marc walked to his side.  “This will make you feel better.”

Ace had a line set out for him.

“I don’t do coke, you know that.”

“Whatever’s troublin’ you will disappear man.  Take a hit.”

Marc could use an escape.  And why the hell was he holding back?  This was who he was.  He was never going to have the life he wanted.  Never going to have Mercy.  This was it.  He might as well embrace it.

“Fine.”  Marc sat down beside Ace and took the straw from his hand putting it to his nose.  The coke burned as he inhaled it and he almost instantly felt its affects.

“Feel better man?” Ace asked.

Marc wiped his nose and looked around wide eyed.

“Yeah man, welcome to club.”  Ace patted his back proudly.  “Finally comin’ around.”

Marc leaned back on the couch and looked at the ceiling. 

The next morning Marc felt worse than the prior night.  The crash he felt when the drug wore off was worse than the depression he’d felt prior to doing it.  He could see why people would become addicts, to take the pain away.  He could easily become one, just
flow with the rest of the gang, but a little voice tried to tell him no.  Not to stoop that low.  Marc had hit bottom.

“I need you here by two.  Got a fucking big deal going down,” Ace said into the phone.

“Alright,” Marc said simply and hung up.  He didn’t want to talk to anyone and was very to the point.

At two o’clock Marc met Ace at his house.  Hector, Ace, Marc, and Jo
hn were all going to Lila’s Club in the Bronx for a deal.

And so Marc life went, deal, race, deal, race.  Slowly he began to lose himself further in the gang.  He’d tried coke a few more times.  Partied with the guys regularly.  Let himself go.  He wanted to forget the happiness he once had, so he’d never remember what happiness felt like, and then could move on.  Until that time, he’d feel fucking wretched.

*****

Mercy

Life in Quesnel was perfect over the following two months.  The office staff was beyond helpful and she’d become friends with many in the company, the transition streamlined smoothly, and her life was charmed.  All except for one aspect.  How utterly depressed she felt.  Like something was missing.  And she knew exactly what it was.  She wondered if that was why she felt so sick all the time.  She was so miserable she was even making her body miserable.  Amazing what the mind can do to the body.

Mercy jogged out of bed early Saturday morning and knelt in front of the toilet. 

“Mercy,” her front door opened, “time to go hiking girly!” Carrie yelled from her doorway.   Mercy couldn’t respond, she was too busy heaving.

“Mercy?”  Footsteps approached the bathroom.  “Are you home?”

“Don’t come in here,” Mercy mumbled. 

But Carrie didn’t listen.

“Oh boy…” Carrie said seeing Mercy’s condition.

“I don’t think I’m up to it this morning.”
  Mercy was going hiking with Carrie and Rod, another coworker, to the city wildlife park.  It was a place to hike and mountain bike.

“You’ve had quite a touch of the ‘flu’, as you call it, for some time.”

“I’m miserable.”  Mercy rest her head on the toilet seat.

“And it’s funny how it’
s only in the morning,” Carrie said meekly.

Mercy didn’t answer her.

“Are you sure it’s the ‘flu’?”

“What else could it—”  Before Mercy could finish, she started heaving again.

“Oh dear me.”  Carrie gagged at the sound of it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure its not…” Carrie trailed off.

“Not what?”

“Not morning sickness?”

“I can’t have children.”

“Maybe the doctors were wrong…that happens.”

“I don’t think so.”

Carrie grabbed a wash cloth and wet it down with cold water.

“Here.”  She set the cold cloth on the back of her neck.

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah.”  Mercy stood up feeling slightly better, flushed the toilet, and brushed her teeth.

“I’ll give you a call when we get back.”

“I’m going back to bed.”

“You do that.” 

Carrie left and Mercy collapsed back into bed.  M I S E R A B L E. 

The next morning Mercy repeated the routine, hugging the porcelain throne.  Carrie’s words began to return to her. 
Morning sickness. 
She thought about it.  Her last period had been very light, she only spotted.  And her period this month was a week late, but that wasn’t anything unusual for her.  Her periods were never dependable or regular.  Her doctors assured her she’d never have children, so it simply wasn’t possible.  She’d never dwelled upon the fact, accepted it, but feeling the way she did and realizing again that having a child would never be a possibility made her feel down.  The only children she would have would be adopted.  She’d accepted that.  There were plenty of children in the world that already needed homes.

Mercy dragged herself out of bed and
vowed to get ready for the day.  Maybe go for a little walk.  She was finally used to wearing her prosthesis and after going to rehab at a local facility for a few months, she was ready to work on her own.

It was 9:00 a.m. Sunday and she was going to face the day.  Carpe diem.  That thought lasted a third of a second before she was wrecked with another round of nausea.

“I hate my life,” she said as she leaned over the toilet again.

11:00 a.m.  Try numero dos.  She was back at the door feeling better this time.  If she got sick, so be it.  She wasn’t staying in the house all day.  Mercy walked down the quiet street feeling better with each step she took, taking the fresh air in.  British Columbia was beautiful and not a far cry from rural New York.  The people were far nicer though.  Friendly and chatty.  In her town people were amicable, but not the same.

“Hi Mercy,” Mister Thompson said waving as Mercy walked by.  He was one of her neighbors.

“Morning Mister Thompson.”

“You look beautiful my dear.”

“You are pretty dapper yourself.”  He was a harmless old man.  Mister Thompson smiled proudly and Mercy continued on her way.

Mercy saw an old black Porsche parked in a driveway at one of the development houses.  It immediately reminded her of Marc and her good mood instantly disintegrated.  Marc.  Two months later and she still couldn’t forget about him.  She rolled her eyes at herself and picked up her pace.  She needed to go out on the town with Carrie and find herself a man so she could move on, even if the last thing she wanted was someone other than Marc.

A half hour later Mercy returned to her house.  Lego, her black cat, was waiting for her at the door.  She’d adopted the little black devil from a local shelter for company.  She didn’t like being all alone anymore.  And
what a faithful little companion Lego had become.

“Come on boy, let’s get you a treat.”

Lego followed Mercy to the kitchen and she gave him a few chicken treats.  Then she returned to the living room.  She flipped on the TV and the commercial was for baby food.  REALLY?  God was really rubbing it in lately.  Mercy changed the channel and settled onto the leather couch.  Lego jumped into her lap.  Mercy fluffed up his fur and the show
Rugrats
came on.  She’d changed it to a kids channel…and a show about infants.   Mercy shut the TV off.

“Well Lego, I’ve had enough of that.”  Feeling hungry, Mercy decided to take a trip to the grocery s
tore.  Her cupboards were empty and her stomach was angry.

Mercy drove into town and filled the cart with fruits, veggies, and junk.  A lot of junk food.  Her sweet tooth was taking over.  Mercy walked down the health and beauty aisle and on the right hand side pregnancy tests lined the shelf.  She stopped and stared for a moment and Carrie’s words once came back to her. 
Morning sickness
.  Mercy laughed to herself, but at the same token a small part of her was curious.  But there was no way.  Mercy looked left, then right, then tossed a test into her cart.  Why she was being so clandestine, she didn’t know. 

After paying for her spoils, Mercy returned home and took care of her food, all except for a box of donut holes and milk, which she promptly took care of sitting at the kitchen table.  She’d need to walk again this night to take care of those calories. 

The pregnancy test on the counter caught her eye as she mowed on a chocolate piece of Heaven.  Mercy put the donut holes and milk away and grabbed the test.  She snatched up the test and went into the bathroom with it.

Twenty minutes later Mercy was staring at the test.  Shock.  It wasn’t possible.  NOT POSSIBLE.  No way.  The test had to be faulty.  Mercy needed to go back to the store.  Now.  And so she did.  She went back to the same market and bought four more tests, each a different brand.  The clerk gave her quite a look when she rang her out.

“Didn’t believe the first one, huh?” the clerk smiled.

“I guess I’m not the only one who has done this.”

“No.”  She laughed.

Mercy took her tests and immediately drove back home.

One by one, each test had the same result.  Pregnant.  Mercy laid down on the bed and felt dizzy.  Pregnant?  How?  The doctors told her she’d never have children.  This wasn’t happening.  Mercy felt sick all over again, this time not from morning sickness.  She needed to calm down.  Tests could be faulty.  She needed to go to the doctor to make sure before she got all riled up.  Calm down.  Mercy gathered herself before she got too out of control.  She’d call the doctor Monday and make an appointment.  And then the doctor would tell her it was a faulty test and she’d be freaking out for no reason.  Mercy’s pulse returned to normal as she convinced herself it wasn’t possible and she got back up.

For the rest of the night, even though she’d tried to convince herself it was a false positive, in the back of her mind she felt something wrong with her body.  Not necessarily wrong, but different.

While at work Monday, Mercy made an appointment with a local doctor who squeezed her in.  They had an afternoon opening so Mercy would take off work early. 

“Mercy, Mister Kendrick on line two.”

Mercy picked up the phone.

“Hello.”

“Mercy my darling, how is everything.”

“Superb.”  At work anyway. 

“We’re having a meeting at three this afternoon with InAcco.  We’ll put you in on the conference call.”

Shit.

“Dad, can we make it for tomorrow?”

“Everything is set for this afternoon.”

Mercy wasn’t about to tell her father she was going to the doctor’s to get a pregnancy test.

“I have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon.  My leg has been bugging me lately and they squeezed me in this afternoon.”

“I didn’t know.  What’s going on?”

“I’ll be fine, I just want to get it looked at.”