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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Return to Sender - 14. Chapter 14 - Kai
CHAPTER 14 - Kai
We ate in silence at first - nothing awkward or stilted - just cutlery ticking on plates, birds chirping in the trees, water gently lapping near the repaired jetty. I looked out there.
Following my gaze, Adam spoke.
“Do you want to go look? After lunch, I mean?”
I’d like that and nodded. “Yes. And the rest of the house too. It’s been so long…”
He smiled. “Then we’ll go look. I’ll do the dishes, you can rest a little bit…”
I sent him a thankful smile in return. I was tired, yes. Overwhelmed might be a better word. When the whole family showed up at the hospital, which Kellan and Megan had kept as a surprise, the rollercoaster of today began. Waiting half the morning, I had expected only Kellan to pick me up and he played his part, not saying a single word about what was waiting for me downstairs. But once we got outside, Megan stood waiting with all the kids, who ran forward as soon as I got up from that damn wheelchair they made me sit in.
Then all the excited chatter from them in the car - a cacophony of delicious sounds, calling for my attention to anything and everything and sharing news and school stories - while this anticipation, this sort of pressure began to build as we came closer to our old home. To Adam.
When we arrived, I’d sat in the car with a rapidly thudding heart as Adam came out and slowly approached where Arya stood on her hind legs, paws on the fence. He spoke to the kids and I wanted to hear his voice. He was no stranger to me - yet he was - and I drank in details of this first appearance.
In real life, he looked younger, maybe mid-thirties. His skin had more color now: his face had seen the sun. The rimless glasses still gave him that stern look, but then that smile broke onto his face and made him younger.
What would he think when he saw me? Would he think ‘no, I’m not feeling what I thought I’d feel’? I had the advantage of seeing him before he saw me and that definitely wasn’t my thought. Mine was ‘there you finally are and you’re amazing’. Getting out, I’d waited, inhaling deeply, then stepped forward. And some irrational idea formed at the very last second - I didn’t want him to see the cane. I wanted to walk to him on my own. I hid it behind me, so he wouldn’t immediately see it.
He didn’t look at me. He looked at Kellan as they shook hands, sending him a smile. He looked at Megan and showed surprise when she then hugged him, and then another smile, hugged her back. But nothing for me.
And then he did.
It was everything. The anticipation left me as I felt my own face smile and I spread my arms a little, practically willing him to just take a step toward me. Come here. Hug me. And he came - easily, also smiling - and sliding an arm over my shoulder, came up right close.
Yes! We’re good. And you feel awesome. Then the feel of his lips, just sliding into place, perfectly fitting against mine, a light kiss of welcome.
I did a dumbass thing then, trying to get up those steps without help. I should have said something, or let Kellan help when he asked if I was okay. Or even better, walk up those stairs with Adam. But I was a dumb proud male, doing that on my own. Idiot!
Why had I done that? Did I want to show strength? Stamina? Look at me, I’ll take over everything, now that I’m here. I’ll be the man? Dumbass!
I should have just asked. There was no shame in asking for help, and I knew that. And I would.
“Yeah, I’d love to lay down for a while. Do you need any help?”
Ha! He tried his glare again - I noticed it the first time. That was no glare, Mister! You’re cute as you try, though! But it conveyed something - he’d speak up for himself, and he did so as he picked up the plates.
“I can manage just fine. Why don’t you go inside, get settled. Take your time, sleep a little bit. Do you want me to wake you?”
“4pm?”
He nodded.
“Tea time. Perfect. We’ll take Arya for a walk after and visit the jetty.”
Tea? Alright, alright. Fine. Tea time.
“Do you need help?” He asked as I rose. “Here, wait…”
Setting down the plates, he came around and slipped his arm behind my back, lightly, not really holding on but more of a I’m here in case you need.
I didn’t, not for this short distance - but I accepted because it meant feeling him close. And it gave me the excuse to do what I’d actually wanted to do outside but without an audience. So once we stood by the hospital bed, I turned slightly and leaned in, covering his mouth. And this time, I stole a little taste.
“Thank you,” I murmured, retreating. and then smiled when he pulled me back for another kiss, one of his own which lasted a little longer. The feel of his tongue in my mouth - oh, come here, you! I want to do that too!
“Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” I softly said, letting him go, be it reluctantly.
“Yes, it’s like that. Go to sleep, you.” He took a deliberate step back and pointedly looked at the bed. “Now!”
I grinned. “Yessir.”
He thought himself weak? I’d call that backbone, spirit, and someone who wouldn’t let others just walk all over him - sure of himself.
No argument here, sir. None at all.
**********
Adam woke me at 3:45pm, calling my name softly and shaking my shoulder gently. Waking up to friendly, silver colored eyes was definitely better than bright hospital lighting. I swung my legs over the side and looked at my watch, yawning.
“Did you sleep well?”
I nodded, yawning. Very well. He’d left the doors open and the sounds from outside had caused me to drift, then rapidly fall asleep. I felt a lot better, refreshed.
“Very. What’d you do?”
“I took Arya for a walk and made preparations for dinner.”
He held out the cane and I rose, taking it. Then he immediately straightened the bed and plumped the pillows. Once done, not a wrinkle in sight. Like I hadn’t just laid there. Very nice to discover that he liked it neat like I do.
“Come.”
He led me outside again, but didn’t touch me this time. Pity. But, having rested now, I could easily keep pace with him. Expecting to sit on the deck again, I guess that was not to be the case - he went to the stairs leading into the yard.
These steps were wider and less steep, making it much easier to descend. He remained close as I did so. I felt the light touch of his hand on my back. Then we slowly walked toward the jetty and I smiled when I saw what he’d done - he’d put a small table and chairs near it, in the shade under the tree. There was an actual teapot on the table, and there was cake and cookies.
“We’re really drinking tea?”
He frowned at that. “Yes? You don’t like tea?”
To be honest, I never drank it and I told him that.
“Oh, well - first time for everything. Sit.”
It was nice out, warm, not too hot. And in the shade, sitting there - life couldn’t get any better. Even the tea, which I tasted with some trepidation at first, then frowned, took another sip - hmm, not bad.
“I’m glad you had that boat removed and the jetty redone. It looks safe again. And you got another boat?”
He grinned.
“Yes! The half sunken one conjured up all sorts of things - I imagined childhood adventures. I used some of it in my new book, as a backstory. And when the jetty was finished, I didn’t really look complete. So I asked Mr. Atwood, next door, if he knew someone that had one for sale.”
“How is Old Jack?”
“Quite the walking newspaper. That’s why I asked him.”
I snickered. Yes, he’d always known everything that went on around the lake. My Dad had always referred to him as being an old nosy woman. He’d be nearing his late eighties by now.
“The next day a few boys from across the lake came rowing over in this one, just the other week. They’d found it somewhere. It’s not actually lakeworthy, but now that it’s there, I can imagine adventures again.”
“Oh, we had lots of those,” I chuckled. “One time, we chased a dragon, my brother and me. I was six, I think? Another time, I chased the Nautilus.”
“Jules Verne’s submarine? I know the book well, it’s sitting right in my study. Wonderful story.”
“Very evocative for children, dreaming of adventures. It made me want to join the Navy. My whole childhood was pretty much centered around that little boat. I called it my dinghy. I was on that lake every day. Learned to swim when I fell in one day.”
“Oh no…” Sitting next to me, his hand shot out and he placed it on my upper leg, eyes wide. I nodded, placing mine over his, reassuring him.
“Oh yes. Keeled right overboard in the middle. Right there,” I pointed, “and that lake is quite deep. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to go in that thing unsupervised. I did it sneakily. So there was no one around. It was sink or swim. So, I learned. Never been so frightened in my life!”
“I would think so!”
Turning his palm upwards, I laced our fingers. His hand fit perfectly in mine. “Almost drowned…caught the edge of the boat, but I couldn’t get in. I was too heavy, what with my clothes on and all. I learned, right then and there, to tread water. So when I found out that that was what made me float and stay alive, I swam a circle ‘round my dinghy, imagining myself as Blackbeard. I named the dinghy ‘La Concorde’. I doubt it was still there after all those years, but I painted it on the back.”
“Ah, the slave ship he captured and renamed to Queen Anne’s Revenge.”
“Alright, now you just gained my respect, knowing that little bit of trivia off the top of your head. No one knows that!”
“I only know about it due to a trip to the North Carolina Maritime Museum, researching pirate booty for one of my books,” he admitted with a smile. "Where I grew up as a child , living with Nan in Fell's Point, Baltimore, they have a Privateer Festival every year. It always spoke to my imagination."
“Okay, now you gotta tell me what books you’ve written, I need to read them.”
“Soon,” he smiled. Ugh! Aggravating man. Why so secretive? “It’s a false legend, you know, that he swam around his boat, headless, three times. Or seven, take your pick.”
“Now you’re showing off.”
He nodded, winking.
“So how did you become a writer?”
“Escapism.”
“Explain? Please?”
“I grew up with Nan from the age of 7, after my parents died. She read to me every night, letting me escape into fantasy instead of thinking about them. It instilled this wonder in me for stories, encouraging my imagination to run rampant. Half my years in school I spent daydreaming, spending time in my head elsewhere, whenever there was a lesson that basically bored me. To this day, I'm terrible at math. I wrote my first story when I was eight. It wasn’t very good, but she sensed, I guess, there was something there. So she sent me to creative schools, where the focus was on letting kids learn by themselves, in their own way.”
“She sounds amazing. I wish I could’ve met her.”
“She was,” he smiled, putting his head to rest on the back of the chair, a fond look on his face. Then he glanced at me. “She would’ve liked you, I think. She liked calm men.”
“Calm?”
“Yes, calm. Relaxed. Not busy with your phone all day, lots of appointments, rushing through life without really living. A few of my ex-boyfriends were like that - she disliked each one.”
So did I. Each one. And I didn’t want to hear about them.
I reached over and took Adam’s hand, then wove our fingers together again. And we watched and softly talked as the sun slowly sank and touched the trees across the lake.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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