Damnit, girl, just talk to me! That would be in a perfect world. So, I'd just follow her lead.
"So, what do you want to do?" she asked, hands resting in the back pockets of her shorts, weight shifted with attitude to one foot, head slightly cocked to the side, a 'fuck with me, I dare you,' look on her face.
I digested the question, and at first thought that she meant because of what she had said, but then remembered who I was talking to, and realized it was a much more general question.
I cleared my throat. "Well, I'm not sure. What are you in the mood for?" She snorted and shrugged.
"Dunno." She looked at me for a moment, almost trying to size me up, then a smile covered her lips. "Got any books?"
"Of course. Go upstairs, in my bedroom is an entire bookshelf of them."
Without a word, she raced up the spiral staircase, and disappeared. I sat there, my heart beating in my ears, blood pounding through my body. I couldn't quite identify how I was feeling right now. My eyes turned as I heard the girl stomping back down the stairs, about four novels in her hands.
"Here, I figure you can pick between one of these."
Confused, I drew my brows, but said nothing. Apparently she knew what she was talking about. She hurried back to the solarium and grabbed one of the wrought iron chairs that went with the set where I often liked to sit and drink coffee in the morning after a ride.
"Come on." She got behind my wheelchair, and pushed me toward the back door. I saw that she had set the chair under the huge oak tree that was in the backyard, the books sitting in the seat. She wheeled me next to the chair, and handed me the books, then she was off running again, back into the house. A few moments later she came back with two bottles of water, and her art supplies that I had given her last night.
"Read," she ordered.
"Yes, ma'am." I saluted her, then looked at the novels she had brought for me. There was a nice selection, Stephen King, V.C. Andrews, Ayn Rand and Nora Roberts. Nora Roberts? When the heck had I gotten that?
Deciding on the Stephen King, I settled in for an afternoon under the bright, beautiful late June sky, Cody happily drawing next to me.
"You doing okay?" she asked after awhile. I glanced over at her, nodding my head.
"I'm great, thanks. This was a great idea." She smiled, a little unsure. "How's the drawing going?"
"Not bad," she muttered, her attention already back into her work. With a contented sigh, I turned back to my story.
It was such a strange afternoon, the events of that morning still circulating through my mind. Still I felt fine, completely comfortable with Cody, despite what had happened, and what she had said, which I kept hearing over and over again. I thought back to when Jodi had admitted her crush that night in her car, then had kissed me. How had I felt? I had been fine with her crush, that sort of thing never bothering me. Hell, I dated Keith, after all, but still I had felt bad, and a bit uncomfortable, but I think that had mainly been because of how obviously hurt she was.
But Cody. I felt fine. Maybe that was because she was so quiet about it, not even telling me herself, but me just overhearing it. Maybe she hadn't even meant that, like you know, she really liked me, but just liked me as a fried. Somehow that didn't wash with me, though. I think she meant it exactly how I originally took it that she did.
I sighed. My brain hurt.
As the afternoon went on, the sun got a little warmer, my body got a little more relaxed, and I began to feel real safe and secure, and real sleepy. I just wanted to shut my eyes, doze for a little while. Cody's here should anything happen, or if I needed anything...
It was hazy, the sky above blue, but, well, hazy. I smiled up at it, feeling the sun's warmth on my face, my eyes closing as I felt the wind through my hair, blowing my long hair back away from my back and off my neck. I felt the leather reigns in my hands, the warmth of the horse between my legs, the sheer power rocking through my body with each gallop. My nostrils twitched with that smell, the smell that was purely that of an animal: natural oils, the course horse hair, manure, all of it, mixing with the smalls of the day. I loved those smells.
I see the fence coming up, ending our trail. I'd either have to get off, or get my mount headed in another direction. Or, I could try and jump the rail fence. I felt a burst of energy surge through my body as I decided to try. I know that my mount can make it...
I start, not even sure what it was that woke me. Eyes slowly fluttering open, I look around to see that I'm in my backyard, novel laying face down in my lap, and an empty chair next to my wheelchair. There is a sketch pad laying in its seat, its pages open to an unfinished sketch. As my eyes focus, I'm stunned to be looking into my own face.
Blinking rapidly to try and wake fully, I grab the sketch, and look at it. I'm sitting in a hammock, one ankle crossed over the other, hands back behind my head, my head slightly turned to the side, eyes closed, dozing as I was doing before.
A smile breaks out across my face as I take in the details, excellent and insightful.
"I see you found my work of art."
My head snapped up in surprise when I see Cody standing behind the chair, a fresh bottle of water in her hand, a smirk on her face. I give her an innocent smile.
"It was open." I try to defend my nosiness. She snorts, and comes around to sit in the chair.
"Don't worry about it."
"This is excellent work, Cody." I nod toward the drawing. She looks at me, a little shyly.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Though I have to wonder why you'd chose my ugly mug as a model." I grin. She snags the sketch pad from my hands and rolls her eyes.
"You were here, plus I imagine this is how you'd rather be than in that chair."
"You got that right." I groan, adjusting myself with my good arm. "But, the good news is I get my walking cast next week."
"Yeah?"
"Yes, ma'am. Look out world."
"Goody."
I start when I feel a drop of wetness on my arm. The clouds had definitely gathered since I'd first come out here.
"Looks like rain," Cody muttered, glancing at me.
"Very observant." I grin.
"Fine, get your own ass back into the house," she said, brows raised in challenge.
"You wouldn't,"
"I would."
"Pain in the ass." The girl laughs, a little too evil for my taste.
"Grab your books," she ordered, and I do. She gathered her art supplies, sticking them in my lap, then moved around behind my chair, and began the slow journey across the grass to the house. As we hit the patio, the sky opens up, and it begins to rain in earnest.
"Good timing," I said, as she parked me in the solarium so I can see out.
"Yeah. Hang on, gotta grab the chair." Cody ran out in the storm, grabbed the wrought iron chair, and ran back as quickly as she could, setting it with the set, and then looked out the huge windows into the storm.
"Quite the downpour," she muttered.
"Yep."
"That's my favorite smell." I looked up at her.
"Rain?" She nodded. "Well, I like the smell of fresh dirt. And wet cement."
She cocked her head to the side.
"Wet cement? Who likes the smell of wet cement?" I stuck my tongue out at her, but didn't respond. She grinned.
"Well, my all-time favorite is leather." She glanced down at me with a raised brow.
"Interesting. You got any?"
"Leather?" Again she nodded. "Well," I looked away, a slight blush creeping over my features. A mischievous grin spread over her face, and she sat on the plant bench next to the chair.
"Do tell."
"No," I reached out and push her away playfully.
"Dude, the way you're acting, I swear you have whips and chains or something." I glared at her.
"Yeah, no. I'm not quite that kinky.'
"Was Keith?"
"Cody!" She laughs.
"Nah, seriously. What do you got?"
"A leather jacket."
"Boring."
"Belts."
She rolled her eyes.
"Shoes."
"Dude, you suck!"
"Hmm, Keith was into that."
"Oh, man, I so don't want to hear that." I burst out into laughter. Two can play at this game.
"I'm messing with you, but I gotta say, that look on your face, so worth it."
Cody grinned. "Well, he's my boss, that's like thinking of my dad being into, ew." This, of course, brought more laughter from me.
What the hell was I doing? Why was I having this discussion with this nineteen-year-old girl?
"Nah, seriously, what do you have?"
"Fine," I sighed. "I have a pair of chaps." Dark brows rose, and I grinned at the look of surprise. "I used to date a guy who had a motorcycle, okay? I also have a leather mini-skirt." Blue eyes lit up.
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Man, I bet you look good in that." I looked at her, my mind calculating, trying to process what she was saying to me. Then, without thinking, I said,
"Well, maybe you'll get to see me in it sometime."
Brooklyn! my mind screamed at me, but I ignored it.
* * *
"How does that feel?" Dr. Cowan asked, watching me expectantly as I walked around the office. I looked down at the new walking cast I'd been given.
"It's pretty tender, but I think it feels okay."
"Tender if normal. Where is it most tender?" The doctor knelt down on the floor, placing his hands on the large cast, feeling around it.
"Mainly just in the break area, and my calf hurts."
"Well, those muscles haven't been used in a month." He stood again and smiled at me. "Well, Brooklyn, I think you're going to be fine. It's healing well, and looks great. I imagine you'll be a free woman in another few weeks."
I beamed, so excited to finally be out of this immobile hell. I turned and walked to Rand who sat in a chair in the corner.
"How does it look?"
"Like you're leg is part of some work of art that went terribly wrong." She grinned; I smacked her on the leg.
"Careful, I'll have the doc here to give you one to match."
Rand was going to be leaving Portland to begin her new job in Washington D.C. in a few weeks, and I was starting to feel it. The closer it got, the more sick to my stomach I got.
"Ready, kiddo?" she asked, grabbing her purse and standing.
"Yup."
As Rand drove us toward Tristan's for lunch, I reveled in my new found freedom. No more wheelchair! If I could have jumped up for joy without re-breaking my ankle, I would have.
"So, you still going to help me pack?" she asked, interrupting my thoughts. I glanced over at my best friend and smiled.
"Of course." She looked at me, then reached over and grabbed my hand.
"I'm going to miss you, sweet pea."
"Me, too, cupcake. But I am so proud of you."
"Yeah?"
"Yes, ma'am, without a doubt. You're going to be our first female president, I just know it." She cackled.
"Yeah, right. Can you imagine me in office? What would Pete be, the first Dipshit?" I rolled my eyes.
"Is he still being a pain in the ass?" She nodded.
"What else is new?"
"But I thought he supported you on this move."
"So did I." She sighed. "He does, just not the moving across the country part."
"What are you guys going to do?" Rand pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and I smiled, remembering I'd be able to get myself out of the car.
"He's still looking into that other job, but even if he gets it, it won't be for at least another six months to a year with elections coming up next fall. He's been with that old guy for so long, he feels some kind of loyalty or something. Need help?" she asked, coming around to my side of the car.
"Nope. I am determined to do this on my own."
"Silly me." Rand stood back, watching just in case. It was definitely tender, and this getting up stuff wasn't going to be able to happen often for a little while, but with a small grunt and a grimace, I managed to do it.
Once seated, my huge, cast-encrusted leg sticking out in the aisle, I looked at my friend.
"So, you guys will do the long-distance thing, then?"
"Well, yeah. I'm not going to lose my Petey because of a couple thousand miles." She grinned, sipping from her water. I smiled.
"I'm glad. I'd be really sad to see you guys split the sheets."
"Yeah, me, too. I'd rather see us get between 'em."
"Ew, Rand," She burst out in her typical obnoxious laughter, simmering down a little when the waiter arrived.
* * *
The cab pulled up in front of the building, and I looked up at it, once again. I really hoped I wouldn't have to see this damn place again.
Getting pretty proficient with this walking cast, I waddled my way up the handicapped ramp, and pushed through the heavy glass door, emptying my purse and pockets for the guard who sat, looking rather bored, behind the desk next the metal detector.
Once through, I found the monitors, and looked until I saw which room she'd be in, then headed toward the elevators.
The room was filled with people, so I looked around until I saw her. Bingo. Sitting off by herself, legs spread, forearms on her thighs as she studied her hands, a backpack sitting on her board under the chair. I took in the black dress pants, neatly pressed with a crease even, and the blue silk blouse.
"Anyone sitting here?" Blue eyes looked up at me, annoyed to be bothered, but the look fell from her face, replaced by a look of relief, which was quickly replaced by nonchalance.
"Go ahead." I sat as she looked over at me. "You got your walking leg back, huh?"
"'Bout time." I knocked on the hard plaster with my knuckles.
"What are you doing here, Brooklyn?" she asked, looking around before looking at me again.
"What, worried you'll be seen talking to the oldest lady in the room?" I grinned, she rolled her eyes.
"No."
"And I'm here because it's your court date. I see you dressed for the occasion this time. I'm impressed." I gave her a smile of approval.
"You like 'em, eh?" she grabbed the front of her shirt. I nodded.
"Did you steal them from Jodi?"
"Bite me."
"Cody Thomlin," the court reporter called out.
"Be nice to the judge," I hissed as she headed toward the front. She glared at me over her shoulder.
As I watched her walk up to the podium for the second time in six months, I began to think. We had started spending a lot of time together, and not even just because I needed a hand. At first she tried to play if off that that's what the deal was, not that I believed her, though it was feasible, but as I started to get better, and much more able to do things for myself, she still stuck around, often spending the night upstairs in the spare bedroom. But not before making sure I had peed and had my last glass of water before bed.
Cody was such a good kid, and a good friend. Truly beautiful inside and out.
I brought myself out of my thoughts when I saw her strutting back to her chair, her face carefully expressionless, her tough exterior belying what I knew to be underneath.
"How did it go?" She shrugged.
"Got knocked down from a DUI to a DWAI. I got my license back, which I figured I would, although I have to keep clean for the next year." She grinned evilly. "I drove here."
Cody!" she chuckled. "So what's the board for?" I glanced down at it as it rested at her feet. She looked down at it, then at me, incredulous.
"Do you think I'm going to leave that in the car for someone to take?"
I pressed my lips together, doing my best not to laugh.
"Gee, what was I thinking." She rolled her eyes.
"Old people."
"Come on, kid, I'll take you to lunch."
* * *
"So, do you have to work tomorrow?" I asked, leaning back against the couch as Cody and I sat on the floor, near-empty Chinese food cartons between us from our little carpet picnic. She nodded as she took a bite of beef fried rice.
"Eight o'clock."
"Yuck. Full day, huh?"
"Yup." She looked at me, "So, when do you go back to work you lazy ass?"
"Next Monday, thank god!" I looked up at the ceiling for emphasis. "I'm about to go nuts."
"Bet that wouldn't take long." I glared.
"Ha ha. Wanna stay?" I grabbed my fortune cookie, tossing one to Cody.
"Sure."
It had been a week since Cody's court date, and she had been here every day since, staying over most nights.
"Got any beer?" she asked, eyeing me over her can of soda. I nearly choked on my dessert.
"Excuse me?" She grinned.
"Just messin'."
"Better be. I'd have to kick your ass with my built in bat here," I tapped my leg cast.
"Plaster up the ass, oh the possibilities." She winked at me.
"Oh, I didn't know you were a back door kind of girl." I grinned, she stared, stunned for a moment before collecting herself.
"Nah, I use the front door only." She gave me a challenging look.
"So, how's Jimmy?" I asked, deciding a quick change of subject was in order. Cody sat back, carton of rice closed up and added to the pile.
"Eh, he got busted with a roach the other day." My eyes narrowed.
"What was he doing with a roach?" I'm a bit confused. She looks at me like I'm crazy.
"What do you normally do with a roach?"
"Find some Raid?" She kicked off laughing, eyes closed tightly as I studied her, the long, graceful neck, firm jaw and strong features, arched brows, very dark like her hair. My eyes shifted when she got herself under control.
"No, dude, a roach, you know, a joint, doobie, pot."
"Oh." Yeah, so I feel really dumb now. "Why did he have a marijuana?" I asked, completely oblivious. God, maybe I am getting old.
"He was smoking it, Brooklyn. Dude, you really need to enter this century."
"Yeah, well," I shrugged, trying to cover my embarrassment.
"Dope is a staple for Jimmy," she explained. "It's not the first time, and it won't be the last. I don't know why his folks bother."
"So, this is a common occurrence for him?" I drawled slowly, trying to understand. Cody nodded. "Hm. I've never understood drugs," I said as I glanced toward our pile of dinner trash, "or people who do them. I mean, come on, how irresponsible can you get?" I looked over at Cody who was studying me very carefully.
"People do drugs for different reasons," she said, her voice even.
"But why? Is it that they can't face reality without a nice high?"
"Could be."
"That stuff is so bad for you, and it's really expensive from what I've heard."
"Can be," she said, her fingers playing with the carpet fibers.
"I've never known anyone who did drugs," I said, completely into my own little world, thinking back to my own childhood, and the people I've known and know now. "I knew a guy who was an alcoholic once."
"Man, you really are sheltered, Brooklyn." My eyes snapped up, almost forgetting Cody was there, she had been so quiet.
"Well, I've just never felt the need to do something so stupid." She studied me, her face like stone.
"So what do you care what other people do?" Cody seemed to be getting a little tense, confusing me.
"Well, I don't really," I said, eyeing her.
"No?"
"No. I mean, I'm not so sure if I could be friends with someone who was a user." Cody cocked her head to the side, lips pursed as she chewed on the inside of her bottom lip.
"No? What if I told you I've done pot?" she asked, leaning back on her hands.
"Well, I mean, so you did." Suddenly I wasn't so sure I liked where this conversation was going. "Pot, though I'm not a real big fan, isn't that bad," I conceded.
"And if I've done harder stuff?" I looked at her, stunned.
"Have you?" She shrugged.
"What does it matter, Brooklyn? You've got your own little ideas and ideals of how people should be, so you stick to those, and let everyone else worry about the real world, okay?"
I could only stare as she stood, wiping her hands on the sides of her shorts.
"Cody,"
"I'm going to bed. I have to get up early." She looked at me, her gaze hard. "Do you need anything before I go up?" I shook my head numbly. "See ya."
I watched as she hurried up the stairs, not looking back once. I was stunned, confused, partially hurt as I stared around the room.
"What the hell just happened?" I asked the empty room, the ticking of the clock my only answer.
As I gathered up our containers from dinner, stuffing them into the carryout place bag, my mind raced over the conversation and what Cody had said, what I had said, when things began to go sour.
My mind still raced as I laid in my couch bed, unable to sleep, only tossing and turning when I tried. I had hurt her, but damn if I could figure out how or why.
Then it hit me.
"Oh my god," I breathed. "I judged her." I was the one person in her life, other than her "boys" who tried to see past the tough exterior, tried to understand what made Cody tick.
How could I have been so stupid? So insensitive?
I glanced over at the clock to see it was three in the morning. This couldn't wait. I had to apologize, to let her know that I would never hurt her on purpose.
Pushing the sheet off me, I slowly got to my feet, and made my way to the stairs. I looked up into the darkness that was the second floor, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to negotiate this. Finally deciding on the crab approach, I lowered myself to sit on the first stair, and slowly, painfully began to push backward with my one good leg, and pull with my one arm.
I clenched my teeth as pain shot through my arm and shoulder each time my body was jarred as I found the next step up with my butt, followed by a thumb as my cast hit the step two stairs below, again, sending a jarring pain through my body.
I took a short rest as sweat poured down the side of my face, and I could feel my shirt under my arms becoming more and more damp from the painful exertion.
When I finally reached the second floor, I took a deep breath before pulling myself up using the railing, closing my eyes for a moment to try and swallow down the pain. When my body relaxed, I made my very slow way toward the spare bedroom, which was totally dark. As I reached the doorway, my eyes beginning to adjust to the thicker blackness, I looked around, seeing Cody's clothes folded neatly on the high back chair in the corner, and then was surprised to see her looking at me, raised up on an elbow.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice groggy. "Was that you making all that noise?"
I said nothing as I made my way over to her bed, sitting on the side, wiping a hand over my face before grabbing my shirt tail and wiping the sweat away.
"Yeah."
"Why? Brooklyn, you're not supposed to use the stairs-"
"I need to apologize, Cody." I cut her off, looking deeply into her eyes. "I'm so sorry."
"For what?" she asked, but from the monotone question, I think she knew exactly what I was apologizing for.
"For doing the one thing I said I'd never do: judging you." She looked down, then away, her face illuminated slightly from the thin moonbeams that managed to squirm their way through the closed blinds. As I watched, to my horror, I saw something shiny in the corner of her eye.
"Oh, honey," I breathed. I reached out and grabbed her hand, fully expecting her to snatch it away. She didn't.
"I hate that," she said, her voice so very quiet.
"Hate what?" She turned to me briefly, then looked away again.
"Being judged. People don't know me, they don't try to understand why I do what I do." Now she looked at me, but this time her gaze stayed. I followed a single tear with my eyes as it slid down her cheek.
"Cody, I-"
"No." she gave me a weak smile. "It's okay. I guess I was fooling myself."
"No," I whispered, wanting so much to hold her, to let her know somehow that I'd never do it again. Suddenly I found myself crossing all the boundaries that we had erected, and my head was resting against her shoulder. I could hear the strong beating of her heart. At first Cody stiffened, her arms out to the sides in surprise, then slowly I felt her embrace me, her hands clasped behind my back, chin resting on the top of my head.
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