Killing Me Softly(A Broken Souls Series)

The house is eerily quiet as I go into the kitchen for some Frosted Mini-Wheats. I pour a giant bowl and sit down at my dad’s laptop which he left unlocked. This might lead to a clue as to what sent him over the edge. From his browsing history I see he looked up information about Star Wars, he checked QVC, but then I see what he saw. I hadn’t signed out of Facebook the other night when I used his laptop, he saw a picture of Tate. That’s how he knows he’s military. Under the About section, it shows, US Air Force. No wonder he wigged out. I shouldn’t have been so careless.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. A text from Tate.

I STILL MISS YOU. 9:55 am

YOU’RE JUST SITTING AROUND PINING FOR ME? 9:57 am

I’M GOING OUT FOR A RIDE. I WISH YOU WERE RIDING WITH ME. DO YOU WANT ME TO BRING MY BIKE TONIGHT? I HAVE A HELMET FOR YOU. 9:58 am

SOUNDS LIKE FUN IF IT ISN’T RAINING. 9:59 am

NOT RAINING. SEE YOU LATER. XOXO 10:00 am

TATE – YOU WORRY ME. XOXO 10:01 am

Dad wasn’t available. I asked the charge nurse to let me see his chart. When I filed for his guardianship, it gave me the rights to go over his charts. Since he’s mentally ill, I’ve become familiar with medication and terminology used in his treatment. Because he’s partially functioning, I give him privacy regarding his therapy sessions. My biggest fear is to read things about sexual frustrations or anything else a daughter shouldn’t know.

The nurse who brought the chart over to me sets it down on the table with a smack. “Don’t remove anything from the chart,” she demands with an east coast accent.

“No problem,” I flash her a smile to show she didn’t bother me.

After spending an hour reading his chart, I take out a piece of paper and write out a note for the doctor. I learned that if you leave a note for them in the chart, they typically will reply in writing. The doctor’s notes said my dad’s psychotic episode was still going on when he woke up realizing he was committed. The last time he was this messed up in the head, he spent two weeks in the hospital. I was a senior in high school and a few colleges were sending me info for scholastic scholarships to attend their school. After his breakdown, I decided to take online college courses. Aunt Laney was furious with him, that’s when she quit talking to him on a regular basis. Sometimes I wish I had thrown out my fears and gone away to college.

I still had a little over an hour to waste before Tate will be here. As I pass the hospital gift shop, I see a group of kids hovering around the Mother’s Day section. It takes me great amounts of self-control not to audibly growl, instead I stare straight ahead. The snack bar area has a couple of nurses eating frozen yogurt and laughing about something a doctor did at a benefit party. I punch in the code for a twist cone and watch as the machine automatically makes me a chocolate vanilla cone, with a fancy swirl and everything.

A child walking by with their mother points my direction and begs for one of those! Before I had a job, I would covet treats too. Sure, food stamps would buy a treat every now and then. However, I had to figure out how to make thirty days’ worth of food out of two-hundred dollars in food stamps. Now that I’m over eighteen, dad qualifies for one hundred and ten dollars worth. When Aunt Laney remembers, she puts money on the prepaid card, but I don’t count on it. Dad can cook a couple of things, anything frozen and hot dogs. We eat a lot of sandwiches and soup. Aunt Laney bought me a crock-pot and introduced me to the world of easy cooking. During the winter, I make stew and vegetable soup to go with our grilled cheese. Dad eats almost anything but he’s especially partial to fast food fries. As a treat, I’ll splurge on fast food. Between his social security and my job, we have enough to pay the bills and that’s it. My phone buzzes.

HEY BEAUIFUL, I’M READY ANY TIME YOU ARE. I HOPE EVERYTHING IS OKAY. STILL PINING 5:22 pm

HEY RIGHT BACK AT YA. WE SHOULD REMEDY YOUR PINING. 5:22 pm

YOU ARE MY REMEDY. 5:23 pm

I’M FINISHED HERE IF YOU WANT TO COME GET ME. 5:23 pm

I’LL BE THERE IN FIVE. I’LL MEET YOU AT THE FRONT ENTRANCE. BE STILL MY RAPIDLY BEATING HEART. 5:24 pm

TATE, I’LL TAKE SOME EXTRA CHEDDAR. 5:25 pm

CHEESE PLEASE 5:25 pm

DON’T TEXT AND RIDE 5:25 pm

IMPOSSIBLE ON A MOTORCYCLE. SEE YOU IN FIVE 5:26 pm

***



Chapter Eight. Storms

My tummy flurries at the thought of seeing him. Something so simple like a text message has changed my mood to excitement. I gather up my napkin and toss it out as I walk to the entrance. A woman in a wheelchair is in the foyer with her new baby in her arms. A nurse is standing next to her with a cart full of flowers and balloons. I watch from the teak bench I decided to sit on, as the new father cradles his newborn in his arms. The nurse and him together were making sure everything was nice and tight to keep the baby secure. He takes the plants and fills up the front seat with them. As he takes his wife’s hand into his, they pass a look to one another. That look of love. They are most indubitably in love. My heart swells with compassion and hope as I watch them drive away. She sat in the backseat with her newborn child and he pulled away no faster than a tortoise. They are the epitome of the perfect family. I imagine them sitting by the fireplace on Christmas Eve. He gives her a little box with a beautiful piece of jewelry and they drink hot cocoa as he reads Twas the Night Before Christmas out loud to his little baby darling. I want every single part of that fairytale.

A black motorcycle pulls up and my stomach flips all the way over as he gets off the bike. He’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a black fitted t-shirt. From head to his boot clad feet screams bad ass. He pulls off his black riding gloves and comes over to me, without any warning, he wraps his arms around me and kisses me in the entrance to the hospital. The automatic doors behind us open and close twice before we were done. Young, dumb, and madly in-like with a motorcycle riding military guy.

“Pining doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings when I’m away from you,” Tate whispers seductively in my ear.

His whisper gives me the shivers, quivers and downright panty dropping thoughts. “Mmm, I can tell.”

“Have you been on a bike before?”

“I have.”

He smiles at me and goes over to a leather thing on the side of his bike. He pulls out a black half helmet and a pair of motorcycle glasses. They’re not goggles, but they’re definitely not something I’d wear walking through the mall. Together, we put the helmet on my head and he tightened the straps up under my chin.

“Is there any room for me to put my purse in your leather basket?” I ask and hold up my small purse.

“The leather basket is called saddle bags. Yes, I have room.” He holds his hand out to me and takes my purse. “You carrying a defense brick in here or something?”

“Oh ha ha. No, just a wallet and some girlie stuff.”

“Girlie stuff? That’s scarier than a brick,” he says and climbs onto his bike.

I swung my leg over and shimmied up behind him. I put my hands on his sides, barely touching him. He grabs my hands and wraps them all the way around him. I interlace my fingers and lean into him. My front pressed against his back makes me keenly aware of how there’s only a thin layer of cloth between us. When my jean clad legs rub up against his, he takes a hand and rubs my knee. That one little act of flirting sends my receptors into overdrive. Now all I can think about is how to make him do it again. Then I think about him keeping both of his hands on the handlebars. We drive past Midwest City and head toward the country. Periodically a gargantuan bug would commit suicide on my leg or against my helmet. Now I understand what they mean about bugs in the teeth. My cheeks feel funny when I move my head out from behind Tate and take the wind face first. It reminds me of the hand dryer at the mall, it will dry your hands in five seconds. Whoever invented it must ride a motorcycle. For a minute I try to visualize what Tate’s face looks like, with the wind contorting it out of place. Within seconds I’m laughing at my visual image. He pats my hand in a way to ask if I’m okay. He must feel me chuckling against his back.