CHAPTER EIGHT
Eden
"I have something to show you," Calder said, taking my hand.
I cocked my head and looked at him curiously, but he just smiled and led me down the hall. Calder pulled me into a room and I looked around at the semi-small bedroom, the only furniture a big bed against the far wall with a gray and white striped comforter and a few pillows. I looked over at Calder and he was looking expectantly at me.
"What am I looking at?" I asked.
"That," he said, pointing at the bed. "I bought it for us today. All the bedding, too." He let go of my hand and walked over to it, pulling the comforter back to reveal light gray and purple flowers on the other side. "It's reversible," he said. "You can put it on whatever side you like better."
"Calder," I said, walking over to him and taking the hand that was holding the comforter so that he dropped it back to the bed. "This is your house. You should pick what you like."
"I want it to be your house, too," he said quietly, vulnerability moving over his expression. "I want my home to be your home, my bed to be your bed. I want your nighttime heat to be within arm's reach."
My heart skittered to a stop and then took up an erratic beat as I made a small choking sound, emotion moving up my throat. "Our letters," I said.
He smiled tenderly at me. "Please move in here. Live with me. Let me protect you. Not just for tonight, but for always."
I chewed on my lip for a second, uncertainty filling my chest. "I want to. I do. I don't ever want to be apart from you again. It's just . . . you were living in another woman's house yesterday and I worry . . . I worry that us moving too quickly will be us reacting out of desperation." I looked up into his deep brown eyes. "I want to make sure we're starting out right here. I have to be sure about the way you feel," I finished.
"Then ask me," he said, emotion filling his voice, making it more raspy than usual. "Just ask me. All you ever have to do is ask me."
Tears pricked my eyes as I stared up at his intense expression, his body perfectly still. I took a shaky breath. "Do you still love me, Calder? Am I the only woman you want?"
"God, yes," he said before I'd even gotten the last word fully out.
I breathed out and then sniffled. "I love you, too."
Warmth filled his eyes. "I never stopped loving you. I never will. Ever."
My shoulders relaxed and I wiped the tears out of my eyes. "Do you think we're making a mistake rushing back into this too quickly? We've both changed . . . we have issues."
He considered me for a minute. "It's because I cried on our first date, isn't it?"
I let out a tremulous laugh and then laughed harder when he smiled a lopsided grin. God, he was adorable—gorgeous—ridiculously beautiful. I glanced down at the bed again. He had bought it as a gift to me, just today. My heart squeezed.
"See," Calder said, going serious, "the thing is, we are both desperate . . . still hurting, probably needy," he paused, "no definitely needy." He took a deep breath. "I was dead yesterday, Eden." He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. "I was trying to live, I was. But, now you're back, and I'm alive again." His eyes filled with something that looked like wonder. "I don't want to waste time 'figuring things out,' or 'taking time.' I don't need time. I need you. You're all I've ever needed."
I opened my mouth to speak, but Calder cut me off. "And before you say anything, there's something you should know about this bed. It's not just an ordinary bed." I raised one eyebrow and Calder shook his head. "No, this here is . . . uh," he smiled suddenly as if something had just occurred to him, "The Bed of Healing." He paused, his eyes warm. "This bed here has the power to heal the hurt, the pain, and all the desperation inside of us. But we'll need to stay in it for quite a while, until we feel like we can leave each other's presence without that sick feeling of dread. We'll need to stay in it until we've made up at least a little bit of the time we've lost. And once that's done, and we're both more level-headed, then you can decide whether or not you'll move in with me."
I laughed softly, shaking my head and raising my brows. "The Bed of Healing?"
Calder nodded again, his face serious.
I glanced at the bed and then back up at him, raising one brow. "I mean, it's worth a try, I guess. We could use some healing."
Calder let out a breath. "Are you saying that I can take you to bed now?"
I nodded slowly.
His eyes warmed and moved over my face.
He brushed my bangs away from my eyes and said, "You realize you might be here for quite some time working through our . . . issues. Do you need to clear your schedule?"
I shook my head. "No. I don't have a schedule. But I should text my mom so she doesn't worry."
"Okay."
We stared at each other for a few moments, my eyes darting to his lips and then back to his eyes. The air between our bodies seemed to thicken and charge. We had had sex the night before, but this was different. This was going to be different. We were going to take our time. We had a bed. Our bed. A thrill ran along every nerve ending, and a flock of butterflies took up flight in my ribcage.
I turned and walked out of his room on rubbery feeling legs, looking behind me once to see him watching me with dark eyes.
I hurried out to my purse and quickly texted my mom. I felt like a little girl checking in, but it was only polite, and I didn't ever want to cause her one more minute of pain than she'd already experienced over me in her lifetime. She deserved to know I was safe.
When I got back to Calder's room, I heard him in the master bathroom. I sat down on the bed and waited, feeling suddenly very nervous.
Calder came out with no shirt on and rubbing a towel on his neck. My eyes moved slowly over his muscular chest, and arms, down to his ridged stomach and lower to that sparse trail of hair. I knew right where that led. I swallowed heavily, my body alert, alive. The last time I had really looked at him naked, he had barely been a man. He was twenty-two now and he had filled out in ways that made my stomach clench and a steady buzz begin between my legs.
"Do you want to use the bathroom? I have a candle in there. Sorry, still haven't gotten to the electricity."
I cleared my throat. "Well, you were shopping for healing beds today," I said softly, my eyes still on his chest. When I finally dragged my eyes to his, he was smiling a knowing smile.
I let out an embarrassed exhale. I stood up and moved around him to the bathroom, almost jumping away from him when I felt the heat of his body so close to mine. Get a hold of yourself, Eden. This is Calder. Not some stranger. Only in some ways that's exactly what he was.
I closed the door to the bathroom and stood against it for a minute, taking deep breaths. A single candle was flickering on the counter, casting the bathroom in a dim glow. I stood there watching the flame jump.
Calder was right; we didn't have to decide anything right now. Didn't we owe it to ourselves to try to work through the feeling of desperate neediness and surrealism that I, at least, hadn't been able to shake since I'd walked into that gallery? It'd only been a day since we'd found out we were both still alive, but was there really a good reason to force ourselves to stay apart? I wanted him and he still wanted me. Did it need to be more complicated than that?
I used the bathroom and freshened up, using his toothpaste on my finger to brush my teeth and then I blew out the candle, took a deep breath, and walked back into the bedroom.
Calder was sitting on the bed and the light in the room was flickering with candlelight now, too, as he had closed the blinds and the light from the city outside was no longer shining in.
I walked slowly over to him and when I got to where he was sitting, I moved close and he pulled me into him, laying his head on my stomach. I ran my hands through his hair, acquainting myself with the feel of his longer strands. It was thick and silky and almost black in the candlelit room. Calder turned his face into my stomach and breathed in, running his hands up over my backside and then back down again. He looked up at me and brought his hands around to the front and put them under my shirt, his warm palms grazing down the sensitive skin of my ribcage. He lifted the hem slightly, his eyes meeting mine, his were filled with something that made me catch my breath—a mixture of relief and desire and love. I took the hem from his fingers and lifted my shirt the rest of the way and tossed it on the floor.
His hands returned to my skin and he gripped my waist and then brought one of his hands around to my back again, running his fingers up my spine, pressing gently on each vertebra as if convincing himself I was real, as if those tiny parts were proof of my existence. Tenderness swelled in my heart and I drew in a quick breath.
Calder's eyes darted to mine and he stood, coming to his full height, the naked heat of his skin touching mine. He brought his hands up my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake and I shivered slightly.
"Are you cold?" he whispered.
I shook my head, no.
If the night before had been about testing the sturdiness—the reality of our bodies—this night was about taking in the details, investigating each swell and ridge - the miracle of fingertips, and hipbones, and shoulder blades, the beauty of lips, the curve of an ear, the hollow at the base of a throat. We explored each place slowly and reverently with hands and lips and tongues until I was dizzy with desire and bursting with love and thankfulness.
Gratitude surged through my body. Oh God, I had missed this. He pressed his lips to mine firmly and I opened for him so he could slide his tongue inside. We kissed slowly and deeply, finding our rhythm once again.
Blood pumped quickly through my veins and a throb of need beat between my legs. I pressed into Calder's heat and moaned into his mouth. He broke from me, looking awestruck and drugged, then reached around and unhooked my bra. It fell to the floor and Calder brought his hands to my breasts, my nipples already pebbled. I gasped out when he brought his thumbs to them and circled the tender, aching buds. It felt heavenly and I tilted my head back as the throbbing in my core increased.
Suddenly Calder's heat moved away from me as I brought my head up and saw him kicking his shoes aside and pulling his jeans off. He was wearing white briefs, the outline of his erection pressing against the thin cotton. I stared at the covered bulge. The look of the full, heavily strained material did something to my hormones and my desire for him ratcheted up another notch. I looked back up into his eyes.
"I like you in underwear," I said and he chuckled softly.
I looked back down for a few seconds and then took my thumbs and hooked them in the side of the fabric and pulled them down. He sprang free and I swallowed heavily.
I kicked off my shoes, then unbuttoned my own jeans and pulled them and my underwear off. We both stood before the other, completely naked.
"You're exquisite, Eden," Calder whispered. "You're all I've ever wanted."
He took my hand and we walked to the side where he threw back the comforter and top sheet and we both got in bed together. Our bodies met under the blankets and Calder moved his mouth to mine again.
Our hands wandered as our tongues met and my fingers brushed down Calder's stomach, grazing over his tight, ridged muscles. They tensed and contracted under my touch and he groaned into my mouth.
The feel of his warm, bare skin against mine was delicious and I pressed into him, wanting to feel every part of his body at once.
His hand moved downward until it hovered just over the spot where I needed him to touch me, the spot pulsing with desire. When he didn't immediately move his hand, I pressed myself upward into him and felt him smile against my mouth. "Tease," I whispered, lifting my lips from his, and then, "Oooh," as he dipped his finger inside me and used his thumb to massage the small bundle of tender nerves. The feel of him touching me there while his mouth was on mine and his large, hard body was over me was almost enough to make me climax right then and there, but I held it back. I moaned.
He grinned and then leaned in and kissed me deeply for long minutes, our bodies heating even more as he circled his hips, rubbing his erection against my pubic bone. He took himself in his hand and used the head of his penis to circle against me and we both moaned into each other's mouths. His chest was rubbing against my nipples and my body felt deliciously achy, and tingly, and beautifully needy. Because need could be a beautiful thing if you knew another person wanted very much to meet those needs. I smiled against Calder's mouth and wrapped my legs around his hips.
I needed him to be inside of me. I needed to be connected to him in every way possible. I reached down to guide him to my opening, but he beat me to it, lining himself up and surging inside. The feeling was so immediately full and intense that I cried out, arching backward. "Yes," I sighed out. It was like coming home.
Calder began to move very slowly, moaning out my name as I rubbed my hands up and down his body, relishing the feel of his warm skin, his size, his perfect maleness moving over and inside me. My body melted beneath his and my heartbeat pulsed between my legs where he was pressing in and out of me in the perfect rhythm. My breath came out in short gasps as bright white pleasure pulsed through my core and I came in a blinding flash of bliss. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
"Eden, Eden," Calder was moaning as his thrusts grew faster, more powerful. "I love you. Oh God, I love you so much." He pounded inside me for a few more strokes and then he froze, and his expression contorted in a look of pleasure so intense it was almost pained. I watched him, spellbound. His lips parted and his expression relaxed as he circled his hips slowly, opening his eyes. He was utterly gorgeous. "You were made for me," I said quietly, not even meaning for the thought to come out of my mouth.
Calder smiled gently, rolling to the side. "Yes," he said. "I was. And you were made for me." He gathered me to him and stroked my arm.
We spent the rest of that night clinging to each other, running our hands over each other's bodies, reacquainting and memorizing each part of the other, discovering the many ways in which we still fit together so perfectly.
We whispered the words of love and devotion that we still felt, reassured each other this was real, and true, and that we'd never be separated again. Our souls clung to each other as much as our bodies did. And yes, there was healing.
At some point in the night, I heard Calder cry out in his sleep and realized we'd drifted apart in the bed. I scooted over to him and ran my hand over his hair, whispering his name softly. We'd blown the candle out and so the room was dark, but I could still see the tense expression on his face. His eyes popped open and he looked around, confused for just a second. Then his eyes landed on me and relief filled them as he reached for me and squeezed me to him. "They live behind my eyes, Eden," he whispered softly. "Each one of them. I see them, I hear them, I feel their fear and their horror. I feel it. Every night."
"What makes it better?" I asked in the darkness.
He sighed and gripped his hair in his hand. "Sleeping on the floor helps sometimes. Maybe because that's how I slept as a child. It comforts me, I guess."
"Then let's move to the floor."
He looked down at me. "I don't want you to sleep on the floor."
"I don't want you to hurt."
Calder squeezed me to him tighter. "You're here. I'll be okay because you're here. And tonight I won't make myself picture each of them, one by one. I won't torture myself."
"Why do you do that?" I asked, my heart squeezing tightly.
"All these years, I've felt like I deserved it. I've felt like, if I got to live then it was my duty to keep hurting for them."
"And for me?" I asked softly.
He shook his head in the darkness. "No. It was different with you. With you, my greatest fear was that I would start forgetting you . . . the details of you. It tortured me. It tortured me," he rasped out.
He turned toward me and I faced him and his eyes moved over my face in the near darkness of the room.
"And so you painted me?" I whispered.
"Yes," he whispered back. "I painted you."
I leaned forward and kissed him hard on his beautiful mouth, my love for him bursting out of me and seeming to fill the room. "I love you, I love you," I chanted between kisses. "I'll never stop loving you, you beautiful, tortured man. I know the goodness in you, Calder. I do, more than anyone. I know the tenderness of your heart, and I know all that was taken from you. I know the dreadful sorrow inside of you. I live it, too. I know. I know. But I also believe we are going to be okay—we are going to love so hard and with so much intensity, that it's going to melt away all the pain. And if now and again, the pain comes back to haunt us, then we'll come back here, to The Bed of Healing. And we'll spend as much time as we need just escaping from the world. That's our plan because I swear to you, my beautiful, sweet love, everyone deserves a love story that doesn't hurt."
Calder let out a loud exhale of breath and leaned his forehead against mine. "Even us?"
I pressed my body more firmly against his. "Yes. I promise you. Even us."
And that's how we fell asleep, wrapped around each other, love filling the room, and Calder didn't wake up again until the next morning when I felt him pressing against me, his morning heat right within arm's reach.
**********
We spent four days in that bed. Four days telling each other about the time we'd spent apart, four days talking about our many fears and hurts and the things that were the hardest to move past. We created our own little world, with nothing but bodies, and hearts, and whispers, and truth.
We had both spent so much time grieving for each other, that we hadn't taken the time to grieve for ourselves—for what we had endured that day, for the horrors we had seen, for the guilt we each carried. And so in that bed, we exorcised those demons still in our hearts, by speaking of them and setting them free.
I kissed his legs, the scars still visible from the torture Hector had inflicted on him. I rubbed my lips over the larger scar on the side of his thigh where he had been shot. Hurt moved through me, but just as I'd promised all those years ago, so did pride. My brave man.
Our innocence had been destroyed that terrible, terrible day. Our hope had been snatched from us. But neither of us had seen what the aftermath looked like in the other person. And there was grief in the discovery just as sure as there was pride in the evidence of our survival. A part of me rejoiced, and a part of me mourned, and I thought that was as it should be.
I moved up his body and we both forgot about scars and hurts and felt only pleasure—only the meeting of our bodies—and all the ways in which we were still very much whole, and very much alive. We both realized we'd merely been surviving these past three years. Both bereft of the completion only being in each other's lives could bring.
We only got up to use the bathroom, brush our teeth, and for me to text my mom and Molly to let them know I was still with Calder. But even after those few minutes, a small feeling of fear and loss would fill my chest and I'd practically run back to Calder. Almost every time, he would be out of bed and on his way to me, too. We weren't ready just yet. After all, who would be eager to leave the scene of a miracle?
We grabbed what food Calder had in his kitchen and ate it in bed—bread with peanut butter, raisins, half a bag of corn chips. We made do. On the third day, Calder said he was going to go out and get us some real food, but after getting dressed and kissing me goodbye and walking out of the bedroom, I started feeling anxious and so I got up to tell him not to go. I met him at the doorway to the bedroom, coming back. He wasn't ready to leave yet either. He grabbed a can of peaches from the kitchen, opened it, and brought it to bed. We undressed and fed each other peaches with our fingers, sticky syrup dripping on our skin. Calder grinned wickedly and dribbled more of it on my nipples and licked every bit off until I was writhing and moaning and begging him for more than that. When we were both fed and satisfied, I asked jokingly, "How much sex do you think you can have?" Because there had been a lot, Calder was not a small man, and my own body was deliciously sore and achy. I didn't mind.
Calder turned toward me, his cheeks still flushed from the workout of minutes before, looking beautifully happy. "Well, I'm young, and healthy, and I'm desperately in love with the woman in my bed. So, a lot."
I laughed.
The Bed of Healing felt holy—as if, in it, we had been reborn somehow. And every second was precious to two people who knew the next breath was never guaranteed.
"Eden," Calder asked. "You said you've been studying religions. Why?" He was looking at me as if my answer mattered very much to him. In this way, Calder hadn't changed. I wondered how many had possibly fallen a little in love with him over the years, because his quiet intensity and unwavering ability to listen, was probably one of his finest attributes. Rare in a boy, and possibly even rarer in a man. I loved him to the depths of my soul.
I thought about his question. "I guess . . . I guess I just want to figure out what feels right to me, you know? Not what feels right to anyone else, but to me. What kind of god feels right to me."
"And what have you figured out?"
"I don't know yet. I'm still working on it. All I know is that just like love, God shouldn't hurt." I sighed. "That's all I've figured out so far."
He frowned up at the ceiling. "I'm not working on it," he said. "I have no desire to worship a god or gods who looked down and watched what happened in Acadia without intervening. They did nothing to help."
I was quiet for a minute. I'd thought the very same thought, a million times over. "They brought the rain," I finally said.
Calder was quiet for a minute. "If they did, then they also watched Hailey's four little boys die a terror-filled death they didn't deserve. They watched thirty-seven children under the age of ten as their small lungs filled up with water and they flailed and asked the gods why they weren't helping them. They were far more innocent than me. The gods ignored their cries." He looked over at me. "The littlest one of Hailey's boys, he still sucked his thumb, Eden. He still sucked his thumb. How can I believe in any power that would allow that to happen? I can't."
I shook my head sadly. "I don't know. I don't understand it either."
After a minute of each of us lost in our own thoughts, I said, "I will tell you this though. In those last moments, in the midst of the screaming and the terror, I heard mothers comforting their children. I heard words of love drifting to me through the walls." I shook my head, remembering. "In those last moments, yes there was horror and there was fear. But there was also love. As unimaginable as it is, Calder, there was love in that room. And maybe . . . maybe that's where God was. Maybe if you find the love in any situation, even the most horrifying ones, maybe that's where God is."
Calder didn't say anything, but he pulled me to him and held me tightly.
**********
On the fourth morning, we woke up and Calder wrapped himself around me like he did every morning. He hadn't woken up from a nightmare in two nights now and he looked happy and rested and beautifully messy.
"Mmm," he murmured pressing his nose against the back of my neck. "You smell good." His voice was deliciously gravelly. I loved his morning voice even more than his regular voice.
I laughed softly. "I'm sure I don't."
He shook his head, rubbing his nose against my shoulder. "You do. You smell like my woman."
"We should really take a shower," I whispered. Although in truthfulness, I loved the way he smelled, too, even though he was sweaty and dirty and un-showered. I could have stuck my nose in his armpit and inhaled happily. It was one of those very human things that was sort of sexy and sort of gross at the same time.
Calder was quiet for a minute. "I guess. Are we going to get out of The Bed of Healing?"
"Do you feel healed?"
He kissed my shoulder blade, rubbing his lips against it, taking time to consider my question. "I think I do, yeah. Enough to function somewhat normally, anyway. How about you?"
I nodded and pulled his arm around me tighter. "I think I do, too."
Calder sighed. "I'm going to miss this bed."
I grinned and looked back over my shoulder at him. "Well, we're still going to sleep in it. We're just not going to live in it anymore."
He groaned. "I liked living in it."
"Me, too," I said softly.
"So does that mean you'll move in with me?" he asked, a gravelly nervousness in the tone of his voice.
I nodded my head. "Yes," I said. "I'll move in with you."
He kissed my skin and whispered, "Thank you."
We snuggled for a little while longer, Calder hardening against my backside. I was sore, but I didn't care. We needed this one last time before we got up and faced the real world again. I wiggled my bottom against him and he sucked in a breath, bringing his hand around to massage me right where I needed it. He made love to me slowly, thrusting into me leisurely from behind while he touched me with his hand. Beams of sunlight filtered in through the shade, casting the whole room in a pale yellow, magical glow, and Calder's heartbeat surrounded me, against my back and deep inside me. We fell over the edge together—me crying out, and Calder shuddering behind me—as he circled his hips slowly and bit my shoulder lightly, smiling against my skin.
"Anything you want," he whispered. "If it exists in this world, it's yours."
"Hmm," I hummed. "There's this painting in a gallery in Paris of a girl with a mysterious smile. I fancy it."
His smile against my skin widened into a grin. "You fancy it?"
"Mmm," I murmured.
"I fancy you," he whispered. "I fancy you a whole lot."
I laughed softly and he slipped out of me as I turned in his arms and snuggled into his chest.
"I'd like to string some stars together and hang them right above this bed," I said.
"I'll build a ladder," he said, pulling me closer. "I'll climb up and I'll lasso a few for you."
I grinned, kissing the smooth skin of his chest.
We both startled when the doorbell rang loudly through his mostly empty apartment.
"Should we answer?" I whispered.
"No," Calder groaned.
"I thought we were getting up. Maybe this will be a good way to force us out of bed."
Calder chuckled and then stopped when the pounding started.
"What the hell?" he said, getting up and grabbing his jeans off of the floor and pulling them on.
I sat up and pulled the sheet up against me as Calder left the room. Then I got up and went to use the bathroom and quickly brush my teeth.
I pulled on my jeans and top and then pulled the sheet and comforter up on the bed when I heard male voices outside the bedroom and went out to see what was going on.
When I walked out to the large living area, Calder was standing with his arms crossed against his bare chest and Xander was leaning against the counter, raking his hand through his hair looking like he'd been up all night.
"Hey, Xander," I said, haltingly.
He looked up at me with tired, red-rimmed eyes and gave me a small smile. "Hey, E."
I walked up to Calder who put his arm around me and pulled me tightly to him. Xander smiled at us. "I knew you two would work it all out."
I gazed up at Calder, but then looked back at Xander worriedly. He didn't look great.
"What's wrong?" I asked, furrowing my brow.
He shook his head, blowing out a breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't come here to interrupt this reunion. Shit. You guys don't need this. You deserve—"
"Xander," Calder said. "Whatever I have—"
"I have half. I know," he said quietly. Xander ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah."
Calder nodded and looked down at me. "You know what Xander needs, right?"
I bit my lip, making my expression very serious. "The Bed of Healing?"
"I think so."
I nodded. "I think so, too." Calder let go of me and I grabbed Xander's arm and pulled him along behind us to the bedroom.
"Whoa! Where are you taking me?"
"To The Bed of Healing," Calder said, standing next to it.
"Come on." I pulled Xander and he stumbled and fell onto the bed. Calder and I got in, one on either side of him, and we lay there on top of the comforter staring up at the ceiling. I giggled.
Xander looked to Calder and then to me and then back up at the ceiling. "I'm not having sex with either one of you," he said, starting to sit up. Calder pushed him back down by bringing his arm straight down on his chest. "Okay, maybe Eden, but definitely not you, Storm," he added.
"Definitely not Eden," Calder gritted out. "Eden, scoot away from him a little." I laughed again.
"I thought this was The Bed of Healing. Already I sense anger here," Xander said.
Calder chuckled and threw a leg over Xander's leg. "No anger," he said. "Only healing. And quit it with the Storm business. You know I couldn't put my real name out there. It's a cool name." But there was amusement in his voice. Xander laughed.
"It sounds like a stripper."
I couldn't help giggling and Calder laughed, too.
We all lay there silently for a minute. I smiled. It was a really comfortable bed. I took Xander's hand in mine and squeezed it.
"The Bed of Healing smells like sex and . . . peaches," Xander said, wrinkling up his nose and glancing between the both of us.
"The Bed of Healing smells just like a bed of healing should," Calder said.
"Dude, when was the last time you showered?" Xander asked.
"Four days ago," Calder answered, no embarrassment whatsoever in his voice.
"Yeah, I can tell." Xander rolled closer to me and I laughed again.
I turned my face to his. "Seriously, Xander, what's wrong?"
He sighed and took his hand from mine, rubbing it on his dark five o'clock shadow for a second.
"There's this girl," he said quietly, sounding practically tortured.
Calder laughed. I sat up slightly, frowning over at him. "Sorry," he mumbled. "It's just that every story of woe and tragedy throughout history starts out with those exact same three words. ‘There's this girl’" then he groaned dramatically and threw his hand up over his eyes.
Xander laughed softly and I frowned again, flopping back down on the pillow. "Not even true," I said.
"Does she have you all twisted inside out?" Calder asked, taking his arm down.
"Hell yes," Xander said.
Calder sighed. "Yeah."
"Wait," I said. "What's the problem here? You're in love, Xander. Does she not love you back or what?"
Xander reached up and grabbed the hair at the front of his head. "That's the problem. I think she might."
"Why is that a problem?" I asked, confused. "That's great."
Torment washed over Xander's face. "I might have totally screwed it up. I'm not ready to love anyone."
"Oh, Xander," I said, turning and moving closer to him, throwing my leg over the top of Calder's.
"No one will ever get it except for you two," he said. "No one understands me. So if I do let myself get closer to this girl, how should I explain the fact that I can only fall asleep on the floor?" he asked. "Or, wait, how about this—when she asks me to tell her about my family, I'll say, 'Oh them? Yeah, did you hear about that cult? Acadia? Right, well they were there—they drowned, my mom, my dad, my pregnant sister, dead all of them. Deal with that. I still can't. Oh and these scars on my back? Yeah, that was from the time I was beaten with a whip like a damn dog. You wanna catch a movie tonight?'"
"Xander," Calder said, distress obvious in the huskiness of his voice.
"Yeah," Xander said, staring upward.
"Maybe no one will get it to the extent we do, but someone will get it, Xander. Other people have been through bad things, too. Or if they haven't, they have the compassion to understand people who have been. Give her a chance," I said.
He let out a sigh and continued to stare up at the ceiling. "I still hear his voice in my head," he said quietly. "Like, all the damn time. It's like he haunts me."
I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "I know. I hear it, too," I said in understanding.
Calder cleared his throat and said, "Me, too."
We were quiet for a minute. I listened to them breathing right next to me, gratitude washing over me at their presence alone. "So, okay, here we are," I said. "Three messed-up people, but we're alive. And we get a second chance. And so, I don't know," I lifted up on one elbow and faced the boys, "I for one am going to grab it. I'd like to think it's not, but if this is the one life we have to live, if this is it, then I'm not going to live it being miserable. Especially now that I have you two back. What do you say? We'll try our best? Together?"
Calder smiled over at me, and Xander bit his lip and then let out a small huff of air. "Yeah."
"Me, too," Calder said again, reaching across Xander and taking my hand. I smiled at both of them and then laid my head on Xander's chest and wrapped my arm around him and Calder. Calder laid his head on Xander's chest next to mine and wrapped his arm around both of us, too. Xander started laughing as we all hugged in the somewhat ridiculously, but still aptly, named Bed of Healing, and there was always healing in laughter and so that bed did its job once again, at least for that moment.
"By the way, where'd you meet her?" I asked after a minute.
"Ex-cult member mingle dot com," Xander said, deadpan.
A loud laugh burst out of Calder and I looked up at Xander who was trying not to laugh, too. He lost though and burst out laughing as well, and then so did I. Calder and I both rolled back onto our backs, still laughing
"Well she'll definitely get you, then. No worries there." I grinned.
We all reined in our laughter and Xander looked over at Calder. "By the way, Calder Raynes, if we're all really going to heal, you need to confess about your strange Coca-Cola hoarding habit. I know you hide it all over your apartment."
Calder stopped moving entirely and turned toward Xander. "Okay," he said slowly, dragging the word out and glancing over at me. "But I don't even drink it."
"Yeah, so, that doesn't actually make it less weird."
I breathed out a laugh and after a minute, Calder did, too, turning his face up to the ceiling and laughing at himself. "All right. It's just this thing I have—"
"Yeah, we're both well aware of all your 'things'," Xander said, unable to suppress another grin. I laughed and so did Calder, looking at me over Xander's chest.
"Okay, you two, seriously, time to shower." Xander laughed.
Calder and I sat up, Calder swinging his legs off the bed. "Okay, but first let's go get some food. Eden and I haven't eaten properly in almost a week."
Xander and I got out of the bed and Xander nodded, running his hand through his hair. "All right, let's go. Eden, you okay here for half an hour or so?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." I smiled at Calder. I really was. Calder smiled back at me, looking a little unsure. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him close. He squeezed me back and kissed the top of my head, and then he and Xander left the room, closing the door behind them.
**********
Fifteen minutes later, I was showered and feeling like a new person. I had washed my hair twice, and shaved everywhere. I was standing in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around me, brushing the snarls out of my hair, since Calder didn't have any conditioner in his shower. I guessed boys didn't use that kind of stuff.
I heard a loud knock on the door and pulled the towel tighter around me. Had Calder forgotten his key? Or maybe they just had too many take-out bags in their hands to reach for it.
I hurried out of the room and down the hall. "Hold on," I called. I swung the door open and Madison was standing there. My smile faded and my cheeks heated as I realized I was just in a towel.
Madison looked me over, her face blanching as she sucked in a breath. "Oh," she said.
I backed up slightly and pulled the towel more tightly around me. "Sorry," I muttered, "I thought you were Calder."
She raised her eyebrows. "So he's not here?"
I shook my head. "He and Xander went out to get food."
She stood staring at me and I shifted from one foot to the other, still holding my towel in place with one hand and the door with the other. "Um, do you want to come in?" I asked. "He should be home any minute."
Madison frowned slightly, but walked in past me and I shut the door behind her. I turned toward her and she was looking me up and down again, a look of hurt all over her face. Well, this was awful. I knew better than anyone how difficult it was not to love Calder. I could understand how hard this must be for her. After all, I had felt that same devastation when I'd realized he had a girlfriend at the gallery.
"Um . . ."
Madison laughed softly. "I know, this is weird, right?" She shook her head. "I won't make it weirder. I just came over to drop off the few things Calder had at my house and to ask him what I should do about the money he earned from his show. He doesn't have a checking account. You probably know that. I planned to pay him in cash, but that was before he sold every painting in one night."
I nodded, biting my lip. Of course he didn't have a checking account. He didn't have any ID. I didn't either. Yet. But I could get some. I knew my name.
"You could write the check out to me," I said softly.
Madison seemed to consider that and then shrugged her shoulders. She really was very, very pretty. She had expressive green eyes and dark, silky hair that hung straight to her shoulders. She was wearing a tight red skirt with a crisp white blouse and her makeup was perfect. I pulled my towel tightly against me again, feeling small and plain, my wet hair sticking to the sides of my face. "I guess I could do that," she finally said.
I nodded as she set her purse down on Calder's kitchen counter and began rummaging through it.
"My last name is Everson," I said quietly.
Madison glanced over at me, tapping the pen she'd just taken out against her chin. "Eden Everson? Seriously? You were the missing girl all over the news when I was just a kid. There were posters of you everywhere around town. It was the first time I learned what a 'missing kid' was."
I nodded, my brow furrowing. "Yes, that was me. That is me."
She stared at me. "Wow," she finally said. "Why hasn't it been on the news that you're back?"
I shook my head. "We haven't told the police yet," I said. "If you could keep it quiet until we do—"
Madison waved the pen in front of her, shaking her head. "I won't say anything. I haven't said anything about Calder getting out of Acadia. That's yours to do with what you will. I mean, it's your life."
I nodded. "Thank you," I said quietly.
She looked down at the checkbook she'd removed, put it on the counter, and silently wrote the check out as I waited. When she was done, she pushed the check aside and put the checkbook and pen back in her purse, swinging it over her shoulder and turning to me. "Well, that's that. There's a business card under the check. It's a gallery downtown that's interested in him. Clearly, us doing business together isn't a great idea," her eyes cast downward, "for me at least."
"I'm sorry," I said lamely. "I'm really so grateful to you for being his friend." She furrowed her brows, her lips twitching into a frown as if barely containing her pain, and I immediately regretted the choice of the word friend.
"And for teaching him a few new bedroom tricks?" She laughed coldly. I grimaced, pain lancing through my heart. Madison grimaced, too, and looked down for a second and then back up at me. "I'm sorry. I said that to be a bitch."
I shook my head. "I know this is a really terrible situation for you. I'm so sorry."
"Jesus, you're sweet, too," she said. "Of course you would be." She took a deep breath, seeming to consider her next words. "Eden, here's the thing, I hoped for more with Calder. I won't lie. This hurts—a lot." She paused. "But, I guess if I look back, I can see I pushed him into a relationship with me. We should have been just friends. That's what I should have offered him. But, Calder . . . well, you know who Calder is and, Jesus, what he looks like." She shrugged. "I wanted him. I thought about myself, not him. And I hope I don't hurt you by saying this, but I should have known when he got up to go paint after every time we were . . . together, that it was because he felt guilty and needed to be with you in some way because of it. I see that now. And it sucks. He wasn't ready to move on. I wish I had realized that at the time. I really do."
I shook my head. "It had been three years. Everyone thought I was dead for God's sake. Encouraging him to move on wasn't the wrong thing to do."
She considered me for a second. "It was though. With Calder, it was. I have a feeling he could have lived to be ninety-nine and still not have gotten over you. Treasure that."
I turned my head as she walked past me, some delicate-smelling, flowery perfume wafting by.
When she got to the door, she turned her body halfway toward me, but didn't look at me. "You should go look in his studio. I haven't seen what's in there, but I think you should." Then the door closed quietly behind her.
I stood there for a few minutes, just staring at the closed door. Then I turned to walk down the hall, stopping in front of the only door I hadn't been through in his apartment. It must be his studio. I took a deep breath and opened it.