The Lovely Garden (15 page)

I just shook my head. “He didn’t ask you to marry him, Amy,” I berated myself.

And why was I obsessing about it? It could have very well been just a slip of the tongue. There had been plenty of time, and I mean plenty, where I accidentally told someone I loved them without meaning too. Complete strangers even. Especially if it was someone on the phone, me being used to my parents or Jenny calling. Sometimes, it just happens. Just like me answering the phone with my opening spiel from work.

I shook my head as if to physically shake off the thoughts. There had to be something for me to do to take my mind off of things. I couldn’t just sit here all day and think about what Charles. That would just end with me possibly going insane, and no one wanted that.

A bath was what I needed. A nice long, hot bath. It would do the body good. Relax those tight muscles and I could just focus on feeling better. Maybe add some lavender scented bath salt to it. That was something I hadn’t done in a while and it would definitely make me feel better. With the addition of music to this and it would the perfect plan. Time to set that plan in motion.

While I let the bath fill up with water hot enough to scald skin, I headed to my room to undress and put my hair up. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and decided to look at my back, the first time since Ava attacked me. The bruise was large, slightly bigger than a softball, and was a deep purple. I hadn’t believed that she had me pinned down that hard, but it must have been the concussion talking; I don’t bruise that easy. Unconsciously, I went to touch it. My fingertips brushed it and I winced, and rolled my eyes. It had only been three days, of course it was still sore.

Whore
. I jerked. Ava’s voice. So clear it was as if she were right next to me, whispering in my ear. I could almost picture her with that sadistic smile on her face. I hated her. Hated her for making me feel this way. For making me feel weak and pathetic. For making me think less of myself. Being able to take care of myself and the things thrown at me was something I prided myself on. And I was going to deal with this. I wasn’t going to let that bitch get into my head and win.

No, I was going to win. I was going to get back at her by showing her she didn’t scare me. That she wasn’t going to get rid of me so easy. I was going to stay with Charles until we got sick of each other. Not just to get back at her, but because I love him. I love him and I wanted this relationship to work, and I wasn’t about to let his psycho sister fuck it up for me. Or him. Fuck that and fuck that bitch!

After my little pep talk, I rushed to the bathroom realizing I had left the faucet running and had no idea how long I had been standing there. My renewed vigor did make my bath ten times more relaxing. The music, contemporary jazz, made it even better. It had been a while since I felt that good, and I had even forgot to put the Epsom salt in.

By the time I got out, the water had gone cold. There was a skip in my step as I headed to my bedroom. I felt great! Felt as if I could conquer the world. I hadn’t felt like that since the first time I had coffee. That feeling quickly disappeared when I checked my phone and saw that I missed six texts and two calls. All from my mother with the exception of one. An
I’m sorry.
From Jenny.

I contemplated not responding, already knowing the reason my mom was contacting me. Jenny must have told her about my little tumble in the bathroom. I had decided not to tell my mom knowing full well she would freak out. Act as if it were the end of the world. Would have forced my father into driving her, she didn’t drive, to the hospital to see if I was alright. And she would have met Charles, and been upset about that I didn’t tell her about him either. I didn’t tell her about him because I knew that it would lead to her bothering me about when they were going to meet him. I needed some time with him on my own first before introducing him to my family. Especially her. She would act as if he were the first boyfriend I had ever had, her liking to pretend Billy never happened. “He broke your heart. He doesn’t deserve a second thought.” As she liked to say.

In the end, I called her, only because if I didn’t she would force my father to drive her here to make sure I was alive. She had a key so she wouldn’t knock. Just barge right in and take over my life like she did sometimes. Start cleaning my kitchen and making me dinner, after sending Dad to the store because I
never
have enough groceries. And the questions would start. How could I live in this filth? I clean my apartment almost every day. Why didn’t I call her anymore? I was twenty-nine and didn’t need to talk to my mommy every day. Don’t I know I worried I make her? Yes. Did she know how insane she drove me? No. Of course, she didn’t because I never tell her.

Keeping her out of my apartment was always the best idea.

The phone rang once before my mother picked up and immediately started to lay into me.
“Now, you decide to call me?! Do you know how worried I was?! How could you
not
tell me you fell and hit your head?! Who’s this Charles fellow?! Why hadn’t I heard anything about him until now?! How could you make your mother worry so much?!”

Great. Not only did Jenny tell her about my fall, but she told her about Charles as well. “Hi, Mom,” was all I got in.

“Don’t give me that ‘hi, mom,’ crap.”
Oh wow, she was angry.
“Why didn’t you call me and tell me what happened?!”

“Because I really didn’t think about it.” That was mostly the truth. I didn’t think about calling my mom until the next day, but decided against it. I didn’t want her to worry, Charles was already doing enough and I couldn’t handle someone else bothering me. And she would have known that I was lying. She could always tell with a single look. A mother’s gift, I suppose. “It just all happened so fast. And I wasn’t all there.”

That seemed to placate her since she moved onto another subject.
“Who’s Charles?”
Her tone had completely changed. The worry was gone and replace with what I could only described as her “ooh-la-la” tone.
“Is he something else you just didn’t think about telling me?”
And just like that, her anger was back.

“It wasn’t like that,” I told her. “I just wasn’t sure. Still not sure.” That was a lie. I was sure, I just didn’t want to be. It scared me.

“Ah.”
All the understanding in the world in just one word. It lifted a weight I hadn’t know I was holding. I relaxed and sat down on the couch.
“Is he sure?”

I shrugged thought she couldn’t see it. “I don’t know. He told me he loved me today, but I think it was just a slip of the tongue. We’ve only been together for a month.” It always made me feel better talking to my mother. I really don’t know why I don’t it more often.

The questions. It was the questions that stopped me. The endless barrage of questions.

“Honey,”
she started in that you’re-so-young tone,
“I knew the moment I met your father he was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. A month shouldn’t dictate how you feel about someone.”

“Not everyone is as sure as you are about things, Mom.”

“Well, get sure. If you really like, or love, this guy you could lose him if you keep pussy-footing around.”

“I know. I just… I’m just scared.” Terrified was the better word. Terrified that if I started to get serious with him, he would leave me. It had happened before, why wouldn’t it happen again.

“Amy Marie Jones,”
I was about to get a serious talking to,
“what happened with Billy isn’t going to happen again. You’re a great catch, I know, I raised you, and it seems your Charles sees that. Now, don’t ruin it because you're insecure.”

Pep talks from my mother were always refreshing, albeit a little harsh. Helped to open my eyes and kick my butt into gear. This time however, I still wasn’t sure. What I did know was I needed to see Charles. Or at least talk to him. “Mom, I need to go.”

“I know you do. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” I hung up and immediately opened my messenger to text Charles.
Can I come see you?

It didn’t take long for Charles to answer.
No. You can’t drive.

Right. Forgot about that. Doctor said I couldn’t drive until my symptoms had gone away, which could be another few days.
I REALLY want to see you.

It took a little longer for him to reply this time.
I talked to Rebecca. I have a meeting in ten minutes, but I’m free the rest of the day. I’ll come home and we’ll hang out.
I have to be at this meeting though. It’ll be a few hours.

My heart jumped into my throat when I read “home.” Did that mean he considered my tiny little apartment his home now? That made me happy and sad at the same time. Happy for obvious reasons and sad because I didn’t even consider this place home. Just a gateway to the place that would actually be my home.

Ok. I’ll see you soon.
There was the only thing I could say. Not like I could ask him to cancel his meeting just so I could see him. That would be just a little bit (a hell of a lot) selfish. And it wasn’t something that I could do to him. While it was true his parents left him a lot of money, that business was his livelihood. If he didn’t have that, didn’t throw everything into it, he would have succumbed to Ava’s torments long ago.

That was why he worked so hard. It was the only way he could escape her. Just throw himself into things until they were all he thought about. We all have our defense mechanisms. Mine happened to be to get angry, and sometimes do really stupid stuff. Like try to get revenge, depending on how angry I was.

Now, I had to sit there and wait for however long the meeting was. I was guessing about two hours. I had never been in a meeting before so I had no idea. Set them up for my boss, yes, been involved in one, no. Jerry’s meetings usually lasted close to an hour depending on what it was about and who it was with. A few had gone up to three hours. Two hours was a good middle ground, and the perfect length for me to try and take a nap. I was already worn out and that bath relaxed me more than I wanted. My eyes were feeling heavy.

Naps weren’t really my thing, but my doctor did say that I needed to get ample rest, and Charles did have a key. And I hadn’t slept very well last night. Or the whole weekend for that matter. My mind kept playing the bathroom scene over and over again, trying to figure out if there was something that I could have done to prevent it, or, at the very least, fought back. What I had come up with was nothing. There was nothing I could have done save for having the luck of the devil, which my soul was still intact so I could scratch that off. That was the part I was finding hard to live with. I couldn’t do anything to stop her. It was something I was going to have to come to terms with.

With no reasons to stay awake, I headed for my bedroom and removed my towel. And it was at this moment that I realized that I had spoken on the phone with my mother in nothing but a towel. Shaking my head at myself, I climbed under the covers and drifted off into a fitful sleep the sheets nice and cool.

Strong, warm hands were on me. Groping my breast, teasing my nipple, gripping the soft flesh of my stomach. Teeth nibbling my earlobes and hot breath in my ear. “I was trying to sleep,” I grumbled. Despite my words a groan escaped me and my back arched.

“I thought this would be the nice way to wake you up. And I brought food.” It was a really nice way to wake up, and I wanted more, but when food was even better. I hadn’t eaten anything that day and hadn’t realized it until just then. “Do you want food first?”

“Maybe.” My mouth started to water. “Yes. I didn’t eat yet.”

“And here I thought you were the Queen of Breakfast,” he teased me, kissing me on the lips.

I smiled. “It’s hard to be the queen when
someone
is distracting me.” Really, I hadn’t thought about making breakfast, which was quite unusual. Said how much of a fuss Charles had been making. “What did you bring me?” There was way too much excitement in my tone.

Charles gave me another kiss. “I got us some Chinese from Hot Wok down the street.” I could feel my eyes light up. “I thought you’d like that.” Well, yeah. I don’t know how many times I told him that it’s my favorite restaurant. Ten points to Charles for listening. “It should still be warm. I only got back about five minutes ago.”

Warm food was enough temptation to get me out of bed. I got dressed and was headed into the living room before Charles, who was in just his boxers, unwrapped himself from the covers. “Someone was hopeful.”

“Yeah, hopeful for a nap with my girlfriend,” he said coming up behind me and pinching one of my butt cheeks.

I gasped. “Ow! You monster!” A pinch on the butt didn’t feel all that great. Never understood why people did it.

“Oh really? I guess this monster is going to keep your Chicken Lo Mein all to himself.”

My eyes widened. “Now, you really
are
a monster.” He laughed as he plopped himself on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, the apartment was too small for a dining room table, the paper bag with our food sitting on top of it. I sat next to him, eyes still wide. “You’re not really going to keep my food from me, are you?”

Charles eyed me. “I don’t know. Maybe a kiss might change my mind.”