Too Close to Touch (23 page)

But Gretchen did do it.
Kylie’s brain was clearing rapidly and the mention of Gretchen’s name kicked her into high gear. She redoubled her efforts and struggled in earnest. “Mick. Stop it. Please.” Her voice was strong. “Right now.”

Mick seemed to be ignoring her and used Kylie’s struggles against her, pushing more securely into her, holding her against the wall like a pinned butterß y.

“Please, Mick. I mean it. Let go.”

“Just relax, Ky. I’ll make it good.”

“No. Mick, please…”

“I promise.”

Frightened now, Kylie managed to get her knee in between them enough so she had a little leverage and she pushed against Mick’s hip as hard as possible.
“Stop it!”

The sharp cry was enough to get Mick’s attention and she visibly jerked as if waking up from a dream. She stepped back in surprise, releasing Kylie’s wrists. Chests heaving, the two of them faced each other, blinking in confusion, hurt, and anger.

Mick spoke Þ rst, her voice a pained, ragged whisper as she watched Kylie rub feeling back into her hands. “It’ll never be me, will it?”

Kylie swallowed, looking at her lap. “Mick…”

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“She’ll hurt you.”

Kylie sighed. “She might.”

“I do everything for you. Anytime. You call me, I come running.”

Bitterness and perplexity were starting to seep into Mick’s voice and anger began to resurface in her green eyes.

“I know.”

“I Þ x your house. I take you out when you’re lonely. I help you bury your dog. I massage your fucking feet, for Christ’s sake.”

Kylie said nothing.

“God, you’re so selÞ sh, Ky. And so blind. You’re so blind.” Mick’s anger was now being fueled by the underlying hurt and it was hard for Kylie to watch, knowing she had caused it and that there was nothing she could do to make things any different. “That bitch will rip your heart out, you know.”

Kylie felt a spark of annoyance and slid gingerly off the table to her feet. She wrapped her arms around her torso in a feeble attempt to cover herself. “Maybe you should go.”

Mick’s eyes ß ashed. “Sure. Things are getting uncomfortable now, aren’t they? I say something you don’t want to hear and now it’s time for me to go.” She ducked down so she could catch Kylie’s eyes with her own. “Why her? Honestly, why?”

“I don’t want to discuss this with you.” Kylie tried to step around Mick, but Mick blocked her path.

“Why not? I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” Sarcasm laced her tone.

“What’s the deal? Are you just hot for her?”

“It’s time for you to go, Mick.”

“That can’t be it. You don’t do one-night stands. What do you think she’s got to offer you?”

“Please. Just go.”

“She’s been here for less than three months and she’s already fucked both Christy and Jori. What makes you think you’re any different?”

Kylie’s face hardened. “Get out.”

“She just wants to get into your pretty little black lace panties, Kylie.” Mick wasn’t letting up. “That’s what she does. And then she’ll probably Þ re you.”

“Get out. Now.”

“You’re nothing but a piece of ass to her. Why can’t you get that through your skull?”

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“
Because I’m in love with her
!” They stood staring at one another in the dark, Kylie’s admission echoing off the walls of the living room.

“I’m in love with her.” The truth of the statement made her eyes well up with tears, and she looked down at the ß oor. “Christ.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

Kylie snapped her head back up and she stared at Mick in painful shock. “Why would you say that? Why can’t you be happy for me?

Support me? Why would you hurt me like this?”

Mick’s eyes never left her face, and Kylie was surprised to see unshed tears sparkling in them. She’d never seen Mick cry before in all their years of friendship.

Mick’s voice was barely audible. “Because you’ve been breaking my heart every day since we were seventeen. And the fact that you’ve never even noticed is what hurts the most.”

Mick turned and walked away. Kylie heard her snatch her car keys off the kitchen counter and then the door closed behind her. The SUV’s engine turned over in the driveway and less than Þ ve minutes after Kylie’s admission of love for Gretchen, Mick was gone, possibly forever. The weight of the realization was achingly heavy and forced Kylie down on the ß oor.

Only a few seconds passed before a sob ripped up through her chest and out. Kylie wrapped her arms around herself, rocking and crying, big, stinging tears burning their way down her cheeks. She noticed the various fabric hanging from her upper body and tore it all off with an angry, pained growl, winging both the shirt and bra across the room with all the strength she could muster. The ß ying material didn’t have the same force as something like ß ying dishware might have, but it still made her feel the tiniest bit better.

Looking to her right, she noticed Rip’s big, ß uffy dog bed still in its place in the corner. She crawled to it and curled up, the comforting scent of her faithful companion surrounding her like a blanket. Still wearing her jeans and sandals but naked from the waist up, she fell asleep.

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A hospital waiting room on Tuesday morning was the last place in the world Gretchen wanted to be. It was true that she was proud of herself for being there—it was a big step for her to miss a day of work if she wasn’t on her own deathbed—and if she wasn’t mistaken, her father had seemed to be genuinely pleased to have her at his side before they wheeled him into surgery very early. The doctors went over all the risks that stem from having any kind of surgery, then to this type of heart operation in particular. But they reassured her and J.J. that everything would be Þ ne and all they could do was make themselves comfortable and wait. They’d be informed when he was out of surgery and recovering in ICU.

Gretchen had already made several laps around the hospital, exploring different ß oors, becoming familiar with both the gift shop and the cafeteria. After several hours, she was bored out of her mind.

As had happened more times than she cared to count over the past three days, her thoughts had turned to Kylie. She’d called in sick yesterday, leaving a message on Gretchen’s voice-mail at the ungodly hour of four thirty in the morning. Her voice had been hoarse and scratchy and she’d simply said she was feeling like crap and thought it would be a good idea for her to stay home. She wished Gretchen a safe trip to Poughkeepsie and said she had access to her work e-mail from home, so she’d be sure to at least keep up with that.

Out of curiosity, Gretchen had gone back through Kylie’s old personnel Þ les and conÞ rmed her suspicions: Kylie had taken exactly three sick days in the past Þ ve years.

Gazing unseeingly at the toneless walls of the hospital waiting

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room, she thought about Saturday night. That dance had been the most erotic, tantalizing thing she’d experienced in years and she could have killed Jori for interrupting. At the same time, she knew it was probably a good thing; she’d been inches from kissing Kylie and she was frustrated with herself over the mixed signals she’d been sending. She wanted to taste Kylie’s lips again so badly…she’d thought of nothing else all day Sunday and it took every bit of willpower she had not to call Kylie up just to say hello.

What the hell is going on with me?

Across the waiting room, J.J. was engrossed in a six-month-old issue of
Sports Illustrated.
Next to him, Jenna stared out the window, her legs crossed. Gretchen told them she was going for a walk.

“Another one?” J.J. sounded irritated.

“I can’t just sit here. I’m going nuts.”

He nodded. “Okay. It’ll probably be another hour or two anyway.”

Jenna smiled. “I’ll come Þ nd you if we hear anything.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back.” She headed down and out into the parking garage where she was allowed the use of her cell phone. Seeing that she had a voice-mail message, her heart rate picked up speed, hoping that Kylie had called. Even if she was cluing Gretchen in on some problem, it would be worth it to hear her voice.

She dialed in her code and was disappointed to hear Pete’s voice, sending his love and his best wishes for her father. She immediately felt guilty over her reaction.
Jesus, I am such a bitch.

She wandered back through the lobby of the hospital and out the front door where she discovered an unoccupied bench. She took a seat, leaning her head back and soaking in the warmth of the sunshine. It was rather hot out, but the air-conditioning in the hospital had been worse than it usually was at Emerson, and she was freezing. She felt the steady warming of her bones and she sighed at the feeling.

Glancing back down to the cell phone in her hand, she debated for several minutes before rolling her eyes in self-disgust and dialing. The phone was picked up on the second ring.

“Gretchen Kaiser’s ofÞ ce, this is Kylie. May I help you?”

She sounded tired, but Gretchen smiled anyway. “How are you feeling?”

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Kylie’s voice changed only slightly, as if she struggled to keep herself on a professional level. “Better. Thanks. How’s your dad?”

“So far so good. He’s not out of surgery yet, but soon.”

“That’s good.”

The silence stretched between them. Gretchen bit her lip.

“Everything okay there?”

“Everything’s Þ ne.”

“No crises?”

“None.”

“Any messages I should know about?”

“Nothing I haven’t taken care of.”

The silence resumed. Gretchen watched the cars drive along the road in front of the hospital, knowing there was so much more she should tell Kylie and having no idea how to say any of it.

“Okay.” She quietly exhaled her frustration. “I’ll check back in with you later on.”

“Okay.”

After a couple more seconds of silence, she said good-bye and snapped the phone shut.
Well, that was fun.

Her subconscious took her back to the dance on Saturday night and when she closed her eyes, she could almost feel Kylie’s body in her arms again, feel the closeness of her breath, the warmth of her hand.

God, she’d felt good. Gretchen couldn’t remember the last time she’d been that in sync with somebody…couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt desire of
that
intensity. It had been surreal.

She cursed aloud. Whether it was the Fates, dumb luck, destiny—

whatever put her in this position, the position of wanting something she couldn’t have—she hated it. Hated the unfairness. Hated the anger that burned in the pit of her belly whenever she thought about it.

“Hey.”

A hand on her shoulder startled her and she looked up into Jenna’s brown eyes and released a breath of annoyance.

Jenna smiled. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What’s up?” Gretchen asked, noting the laugh lines around Jenna’s eyes and the sudden absence of the worried expression she’d carried all morning.

“He’s out. He’s in recovery. Everything went Þ ne.”

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Gretchen was shocked by the wave of relief that washed over her.

“He’s okay?”

“Yeah.” Jenna’s smile was enormous as she nodded.

“Thank God.”

“Yeah.”

v

It was nearly six o’clock that night before anybody could actually see John Kaiser, and then it was only for a few minutes at a time.

Gretchen stood next to the hospital bed as her father gradually swam up from the depths of anesthesia and pain medication. His skin was a sallow gray and he seemed impossibly small under the hospital-issue bedding. Her eyes took in the various tubes and wires connecting him to all the beeping equipment and bags of liquid. She’d never liked science and hated to admit to her squeamishness; the sight of blood turned her stomach. But she paid close attention to everything the doctor said, even though she was sure that Jenna had taken actual notes.

J.J. and Jenna had Þ nally allowed Gretchen to shoo them down to the cafeteria after spending the entire time of the surgery, as well as the six hours of recovery time, in the cramped, stuffy waiting room.

Gretchen was now alone with her father and she felt a little awkward just standing there, so she was glad to see his eyelids ß uttering. His eyes opened, a watery brown that was completely out of focus for several long seconds as he obviously tried to once again comprehend his whereabouts.

She waited patiently until his face cleared before she spoke. “Hi, Dad.”

His eyes ß icked to his right and his gaze settled on her. Relief seeped onto his face and the corners of his mouth turned up in a vague smile. His voice was hoarse and raspy. “You’re still here.”

The three words surprised her. “I’m still here.”

“Didn’t expect…you’d stay.”

Gretchen pressed her lips together, unable to stave off the guilt as she closed her hand over his. His skin felt papery thin, the bones far too easy to feel beneath it. His frailty squeezed her heart in a vice grip.

“Well, I did.”

“I’m glad.” His eyes ß uttered again as if his eyelids were heavy and he was having trouble holding them open. “Gretchen?”

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“Hmm?”

“Live life.”

Gretchen leaned closer. “What was that, Dad?”

“Live it. You’re supposed to
live
it.” Within a few seconds, he was asleep once more.

Gretchen shook her head, remembering that the doctor had said her father would probably be somewhat incoherent for several hours.

Taking in his fragility once more, she swallowed the unexpected lump that had formed in her throat and bent forward to place a soft kiss on her father’s forehead.

“Sleep well, Daddy,” she whispered.