14. Hospital Bed Picnics and Pillow Talk
Allie
I stareat myself in the mirror. I’m brushing my teeth with some sort of magical brush that feels like it’s a thousand tiny hands massaging my gums. The toothpaste is a ginger mint flavor that comes from an old-timey-looking silver tube that is probably made from actual silver. I’m wearing the softest, coziest striped men’s flannel p.j.’s of all time (seriously, they feel like getting a big, warm hug). The slippers are too big but the fleece lining is so incredibly soft, I want to live in them forever.
What is happening? Seriously? What? How?
I’m getting a glimpse into what it’s like to be rich and famous. Well, rich, anyway. Or someone with generous rich friends. But it’s not real. This isn’t my life, it’s his. It’ll never be my life. I’m Allegra Cammareri, nerd, scientist, loving daughter, and pushover auntie. I’m not some sexy sex goddess who men like Hudson Finch fall for. They fall for voluptuous hotties from Brazil or icy blondes with perfect skin from Sweden. Not girls like me. I wasn’t even interesting enough to keep Lando’s attention, and he’s a fellow nerd.
But it doesn’t matter because that’s not what this is, and I know it. But whatever it is, it’s incredibly fun. And a little flirty, and totally exciting, even though it’s under the world’s weirdest circumstances. I’m here to hang out with a man who I don’t want around (or so I thought) while he recovers from a poisonous spider bite.
And he’s sweet and funny and thoughtful and sexy as hell, and … and I’m going to get so badly hurt if I don’t hit the brakes on my feelings. But maybe, just for tonight, since I’m here anyway, I could just let myself enjoy being with him. As a friend.
Yes, that’s what we are. Friends. New ones. Who flirt with each other while one of us is drugged. And really, I’m only flirting with him to distract him from his situation, which, when you think about it, is an act of service. So, in a way, I have to keep flirting with him. It’s what Jesus would do. But as soon as we’re back at the office however, it’ll be all business. But for now … fun.
I dig around in the soft leather toiletry kit, find some mouthwash spray, and pump two shots onto my tongue. Oh my, that’s nice. I feel like I’ll have fresh breath for weeks.
When I walk back into the room, I see Hudson typing on his phone. He looks up and smiles at me. “Nice fit. You look ultra-cozy.”
“I may have to change my mind about giving these back. I’m probably going to live in them instead,” I say, setting my clothes down on a shelf in the corner. “Can I get you anything?”
“I wouldn’t mind some crackers from one of those baskets.”
“Crackers, coming right up.” I open one of the baskets and take out two boxes of crackers, then some spreadable cheese and some grapes. A minute later, I’ve got a little mini picnic spread on his overbed tray.
“Come sit and eat with me,” he says.
“I already brushed my teeth,” I answer, then think better of it. After all, how often in my life am I going to get an offer like this? Also, that cheese looks pretty tasty. “Although, I suppose I can do it again.”
I sit on the edge of his bed, my heart pounding so hard I’m scared he can tell. “I only want to eat gift basket food from now on.”
Hudson chuckles, then says, “And here I was worried I put you off basket food earlier.”
“Because of the spider,” I answer, nodding. “I’m able to separate my fear of arachnids from delicious food.”
“I’m glad.” He stares at me for a second. “I um, couldn’t help but notice you had a strange reaction to that spider.”
My face heats up. “You mean the gagging?”
“Yeah… I’ve never seen someone do that before.”
“I have a bit of a phobia,” I say, tugging on the hem of my sleeve a little.
“I gathered as much. Anything happen to you or is it just because they’re generally creepy?”
“A particularly nasty cousin of mine thought it would be hilarious to hide an egg sack in my sock drawer when I was a kid. I didn’t notice until it was the middle of the night and my room was crawling with them.”
“Whoa, that was crappy of him.”
“Yeah, he was twelve. I was eight and probably irritated the hell out of him.”
“But I’m sure you didn’t deserve that.”
“Definitely not. To this day, he is not on my Christmas card list.”
“I can see why,” he answers. “You should make him pay for therapy for you.”
I laugh at the idea and shrug. “He was twelve. Twelve-year-olds are idiots. I mean, I’m sure you weren’t, but most of them.”
“No, I was pretty much an idiot.” He dips a cracker into some cream cheese, and when he pulls it out, a corner breaks off. “Still am for the most part.”
“No, you’re not,” I tell him, carefully plucking the errant piece out and popping it in my mouth.
“I’m not exactly Einstein,” he says. “To be honest, I’m a little worried about my time at the SETI Research Institute.”
“Why? You’re fine.”
Shaking his head, he says, “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to grasp the finer points of astronomy. Physics isn’t exactly my thing.”
“The fact that you know astronomy has anything to do with physics puts you miles ahead of the game.”
He purses his lips for a second, then says, “I watched a NASA video for kids.”
“That’s okay,” I answer, plucking another cracker out of the sleeve. “They make highly informative videos.”
“They really do.” Hudson has another bite, and we both eat in a contented silence for a minute. It’s oddly comfortable, the two of us hanging out in bed like this, even though we barely know each other, he’s injured, and we’re in a hospital.
He has a sip of ginger ale, then says, “So what made you want to become an astronomer?”
“Curiosity, I suppose. There’s just so much out there that has never been discovered or explored,” I tell him, feeling overly excited to be sharing this side of myself with someone who seems so interested to hear it. “I mean, I get that there are a lot of places on earth that haven’t been discovered yet—especially the oceans—but for me, there’s just something about space. The stars, the moon, the other planets we can see. The billions we can’t see. The sheer vastness of it. It’s nearly impossible to wrap your head around it. And I want to know everything—what’s out there, how it all fits together, how we can get to places in other galaxies, who we’ll meet when we get there…”
He smiles at me for a second without saying anything.
“What? Do I have food on my face or something?” I ask, feeling around my mouth.
“No, you’re just so lit up. It’s nice.”
“Really?”
Nodding, Hudson says, “Yeah. Most of the people I hang out with try really hard to seem like nothing impresses them. They’re all about looking cool no matter what. It’s refreshing to be around someone who’s passionate about what they do.”
“Well, if I’m anything, it’s passionate about my work. Some would even say obsessive.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“According to my parents, yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not exactly getting them any closer to having more grandkids.”
“Ah, I see.”
“What about your parents? Do they ever bug you to settle down?”
There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes, just for the briefest of seconds, but then the breezy look returns to his face. “Not really. I think they’re just happy I’m earning a good living.”
I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what he means. “I’d say you do more than that.”
“Yeah, I do all right,” he says with a wry smile.
“But they didn’t think you would?”
“Nah, it’s not that. Well, sort of. I was a bit of a screw-up as a kid. I wasn’t really into school,” he says. “Your typical class clown. In fact, I’m pretty sure if we’d have grown up together, you would’ve hated me.”
“I doubt that very much,” I tell him, opening a bag of upscale pretzels.
“I don’t. I’m pretty sure the words used most often on my report card were ‘disruptive’ and ‘would benefit from taking his education seriously.’”
“School’s not for everyone. For some people it’s just a thing you have to get through until you can get on with your real life,” I say, taking a tiny bite of a pretzel. “And look at what you’ve accomplished. You’re an outlier. Rich, famous, powerful.”
“Not bad for a class clown,” he tells me, popping a pretzel into his mouth.
“Not bad for anyone.”
Hudson shrugs. “Well, it could all be over by next year.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hollywood is fickle. You can be the hottest thing going one minute and a total pariah the next.”
“But I think most times when someone falls out of favor, it’s because they’ve done something, right?”
Shaking his head, he says, “Sometimes all they do is age out.”
“Pfft, what are you talking about? You’re not even forty. Besides, you’re a man. Men don’t age out. It’s one of the biggest double standards in our society.”
“That’s all changing,” he says.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, it used to be just the women being judged by impossible standards, but instead of righting that wrong, it seems like things went the other way and made it harder on guys too,” he tells me. “Not that I expect you to feel sorry for me or something, because I don’t. I’ve had a good run.”
I know he’s holding back, but I also know that the fact that he told me this much is huge for someone like him. We finish the rest of our picnic and I clean up, then get myself ready for bed and turn down the lights. I snuggle onto the recliner under the faux fur blanket he got from his agency. My heart is still fluttering a mile a minute, so I have no idea how I’m going to fall asleep. I’m spending the night with Hudson Finch. And I know it’s not like that. We’re not having some wild affair that I’ll spend the rest of my life dreaming about, but for someone like me, sleeping in the same room, in pajamas that belong to him, is enough. It’s huge, in fact. I’ll always know this night happened. I’ll still be talking about it when I’m Zia Fernanda’s age.
I close my eyes and listen to the sound of him breathing nearby, wishing I could give him a soft, slow kiss on his lips. Then I tell myself to go to sleep. After a couple of minutes of trying, I hear Hudson’s voice cut through the darkness of the room. “You still awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too,” he says. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Let me preface this by saying you don’t have to answer and I fully acknowledge that it’s none of my business. I’m just surprised you’re not with anyone.”
Lando’s face pops into my mind and my stomach twists, like it always does. I pause long enough for him to rethink the topic.
“You know what? Don’t answer that. I would normally never bring it up if I weren’t drugged.”
“No, it’s fine.” I’m so tempted to tell him everything, but I’m too embarrassed. A guy like him, who can have any woman in the world, won’t understand what it feels like to be rejected. “I’m what you call book smart, but as far as relationships go, I’m a total idiot. My radar is broken when it comes to men. I tend to attract guys who want to use me for my brain, then dump me.”
“If I were going to use you, it would definitely be for your body,” he says.
My eyes pop open, and I’m not sure if I should be offended or flattered. Before I can answer, he says, “Wait. That came out wrong. What I meant was you’re really beautiful.”
My heart does a flippy thing that I don’t want it to. “Well, thank you. I think.”
“I’m really off my game tonight,” he says. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. We’ll chalk it up to the drugs.”
“That’s very charitable of you.”
We’re both quiet for a second, then he says, “Weird that you think there’s something wrong with you.”
“What?”
“Your radar. You blamed the fact that you’re single on yourself, instead of brushing it off as a few shitbags who used you.”
“Two shitbags, and I suppose I could look at it that way, but both situations were so strikingly similar that it leads me to the question of: why do I keep attracting them? And how do I miss all the signs?”
“I think it’s pretty normal to miss some signs when you’re in love with someone,” Hudson says.
“One of them used to come over to my place and wash his penis in the sink.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s a pretty big sign.”
“Exactly. Best to avoid the whole thing,” I say. “Anyway, it’s fine. I’m happy. I have people who love me and a job I’m crazy about. It’s more than a lot of people have, so I figure I should be grateful.”
“Sure, but you still deserve to find a guy who will treat you right.”
I turn onto my side a little more to face him, letting his words warm me as much as this blanket. “Thanks. What about you? How come you aren’t with anyone?”
“Oh, I’ve been with plenty of women.”
“But right before you passed out, you told me you’ve never been in love.”
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I mean, that was a particularly intense moment. I thought I was about to die.”
“Which usually brings out the truth, doesn’t it?” I ask gently.
“Yes,” he answers, sounding sheepish. “The thing is, it’s hard for me to let anyone see me the way I am. Maybe it’s an occupational hazard, but I sometimes feel like a chameleon, trying to be someone they think I should be instead of being myself. Someone more impressive.”
My heart aches for him, and I find myself wanting to sneak into his bed and hold him tight. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re impressive. Not the smooth persona when the television crew was there, but how you’ve been today. You’re honest and thoughtful and kind, which is all any woman really wants in a partner.”
“Thanks, Allie. That’s kind of you to say, but if you spent enough time with me, you’d be disappointed.”
I lay here, shocked that he feels this way about himself and not knowing what to say. Finally, I speak up. “If you were the person I’m hanging out with right now, no one could ever be disappointed. Even though you’re not a sweets guy, which is just plain weird.”
He chuckles a little, then says, “Thank you. I hope the next man you’re with can see what he’s got because you’re really lovely. Not just on the outside either.”
Tears spring to my eyes and I blink quickly to stop them even though it’s dark. “Thanks,” I whisper. I let his words wash right through me and seep into every cell of my body. I’m lovely. Not just on the outside either.
After a minute, he says, “Can I also say I admire how hard you work.”
“Sure, I’ll allow it.”
He turns toward me, his sheets rustling a little. “No, seriously. You’re so driven. Most people would’ve dropped everything to work with me, but you just kept pawning me off on your coworkers so you could focus.”
“Well, I sort of have an ulterior motive,” I answer. “There’s a huge conference coming up in a couple of months in Zurich. It only happens once every four years, and I’ve never had a chance to present. Keenan is going to let Chad represent our team, with what is, quite honestly, a far inferior talk—well, if I can get Frank working, that is. If he’s up and running, it would be my first shot at recognition in the SETI world.”
“Chad? Blech. You have got to get Frank working in time.”
“Right?” I say, glad he gets it. “There are so few opportunities like this, and honestly, a disproportionately small number go to women in the field, so in a way, I’d feel like I was winning for all of us if I could make it happen.” I sigh, then go on. “To be honest, Keenan already told me I can’t present, but I just know everything would change if I can finish in time. It would be the biggest breakthrough in the history of SETI, so even if he couldn’t swap me out for Chad, the organizers of the conference would have to make time for me. There’s no way they could ignore it because everyone in the field is going to be itching to get their hands on this system.”
Hudson’s quiet for a minute, and I start to think he’s asleep, but then he says, “That’s why you were disappointed when I showed up.”
“What?”
“I could tell. When I first met you—it was this tiny fraction of a second when you glanced at the floor. You were telling me you were hoping you could help me, but I knew you didn’t mean it,” he says. “It’s because you got saddled with me instead of being able to focus all your time on Frank.”
“You’re extremely perceptive.”
“It’s my only superpower. Reading people.”
“It’s a good one to have,” I answer, wishing I was better at it.
“Well, listen, if there is any possible way I can help you to get your project done, I’m there. Whatever you need.”
Alarm bells start going off in my head, but I shut them down. There’s no way I need to worry about accepting help from Hudson. It’s not like he could ever take credit for my work. “Thank you. If I can think of anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that.”
That’s not the only thing I’d like him to hold me to. Oops! Scrub that thought from my brain. No way should I be going there. “We should probably get some sleep.”
“Good night, Allie.”
“Good night, Hudson.”
“Thank you for being here with me.”
I want to tell him there’s no place I’d rather be, but it would feel too cliché. Actually, that’s not true. It would feel too honest. And if there’s one thing I can’t afford to be with this man, it’s honest about how I’m feeling right now.