Chapter 29
29
OPHELIA
“U gh, I cannot wait for it to get warmer…and less depressing outside,” Bailey groans from where we’re sitting inside the coffee shop. She’d texted me asking if I wanted to meet her for coffee and since it had been a few weeks since we’d seen each other face to face, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. We are both so busy with work, and now her with Hank, that we haven’t seen each other nearly enough.
“This is the lowcountry in January. Give it a few more weeks and everything will warm up and start to bloom again.” It’s the last week of January and I’m literally counting down the days until the spring bloom will happen. Every spring between the final weeks of February and the middle of April, all of the flowers around the city seemed to explode all at once and you can see stunning shades of pink, purples, and blues everywhere you look. It’s as if Mother Nature is secretly jealous of the homes on Rainbow Row and is trying to put them to shame. And she does, year after year.
“So, how are things going with your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I sing so I don’t come off as annoyed as I feel by her question. She’s hounded me a hundred times about what’s going on with Malcolm and I, and while I know it’s coming from a good place, I still want to smack her upside the head every time she brings it up.
“So then what is he, an exclusive fuck buddy?” She says it a little too loud and a woman standing behind us waiting for her order gives us a look, covering the ears of the small child who’s waiting with her. Bailey pulls her lips into an embarrassed expression before turning back to me. “So, what are you two if you’re not dating?”
“We’re…enjoying each other’s company,” I say, trying to find the right words for what we are. I’ve thought about this question a lot ever since he took me to the library. The whole thing kind of felt like a date, but he never called it that. And ever since I shared with him about Jarrett and my past, we’ve texted or talked on the phone almost daily. He even came to my place last week after campaign night and stayed the night after some of the best shower sex I’ve had in my life. The way he pressed me against the?—
“Ohhh, she’s blushing! Where did you go just now? Spill it, Ophie.” Her words rip me from the memory of how I cried out his name and plant me back into my current state of annoyance from the relentless pestering of my so-called best friend.
“There’s nothing to tell. We’re just having a good time.”
“I can assume things are anything but platonic,” she jests with a raised brow.
“I mean, yeah,” I scoff with a smile. “It’s us but…there’s been some pretty platonic stuff too. Just friends hanging out together, stuff.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Like, that time he came to my place to take care of me when I was sick. Nothing happened then.”
“Ophie you were puking your brains out from bad sushi, I wouldn’t have wanted to have sex with you either.” The horrified mother glares at us again and moves herself and her kid over to the other side of the coffee shop to prevent us from corrupting him any longer.
“Yeah, well, it was still a very friendly thing to do.”
“He didn’t do that because he’s your friend, he did that because he likes you.”
“And then one time he took me to get a sandwich at his favorite place.”
“Didn’t you fuck on the back of his truck afterwards?”
“Well…yeah,” I reply sheepishly. “But last weekend he took me to the library. And nothing happened there.” Even though something totally happened when you got home you little liar.
“He took you to the library?” Her eyes are squinted in disbelief as she raises her latte to her lips to take a sip. I match her movements and let the warmth of my own drink fill my insides.
“Yeah, it was sweet. After I met him where he trains, he took me to the library and we looked at books. He even helped me get a library card which I never thought I would do again.”
Her shoulders slump over as her eyes become round and mirror that of a puppy. When her bottom lip curves and pushes into her top, I know I’m in trouble. “ Ophie , that is the cutest thing ever. He took you on a date,” she squeals.
“It wasn’t a date, that word was never used,” I quickly interject, trying to put an end to this entire conversation.
“He might not have called it that and I know you would never call it that, but that’s what it was. My little girl is all grown up and going on dates now.” Her voice comes out more as a whine as she flings her arms around my neck. “I’m so happy for you, Ophie, when are you coming to game night? Next week? Magnolia and I are so excited to have you there with us.”
“Bailey, slow down, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Like I said, it wasn’t a date and we’re just having fun. He isn’t my boyfriend, he’s just my?—”
“Fuck buddy who you sometimes do platonic things with,” she cuts in.
“Sure, we can go with that.” I sigh, tired from this conversation.
She studies me for a beat, perched on the barstool with a grin that is just dying to break into a full-fledged smile.
“What?” I ask, afraid of what her answer might be.
“I’m just happy for you. Is a girl not allowed to be happy for her best friend?” She brings a hand to her chest and acts as if I offended her. I look at her and feel a nagging sensation in my stomach. She must have noticed because she reaches over and places her hand on my knee. “Sweetie, what’s wrong? Why are you making that face?”
I didn’t even realize I was making a face. Taking a breath, I decide to tell her. “Malcolm knows…about me. About my past. All of it…”
All of the muscles in her face fall at once and her mouth forms a small ‘O.’
“ Everything ?”
“Everything.” I nod.
“Wow, Ophie. That’s a big step for you. I’m really proud of you.” Her voice is soft and a stark difference from the loud and excited tone she spoke in before. “What did he say?”
“He told me he would keep me safe and that nothing that happened to me was my fault.” My lips wrap around my teeth as I remember how gentle he was with me as I cried. How he pulled me into him and just let me get it out. No shame or guilt. Just safety and comfort.
“I didn’t know he had that in him,” Bailey scoffs with a half smile.
“Yeah, me neither.” I laugh along with her. The more time I spend with him, the more I’ve come to realize that Malcolm is more complex than he lets on. That, underneath the shaggy hair and tattooed arms, he’s just looking for someone who will accept him for who he’s been and what he’s been through.
How oddly familiar.
“He’s been through some stuff, I don’t know if Hank has said anything to you. But he’s shared things with me that it just felt like I was being dishonest with him if I didn’t share about my stuff too.” I shrug.
“Yeah, I’ve been there. It’s a good sign when they can handle the things you share with them.” She looks at me with a hopeful smile. “When was the last time you talked with your mom?”
I pause at her question and cast my eyes to the floor. My mother and I don’t talk often and only ever exchange emails. Nothing much, just a few here and there to let her know I am alive and okay. “Couple weeks ago. Kept it short like I always do.”
“I’m glad you have that. I know things with your parents are hard. I’m proud of you for holding your boundaries with them.”
“Thanks.” I give my friend a tight smirk and lift up the cardboard cup only to realize it’s empty. “Damn. I’m getting a refill and then do you want to go? We could go for a walk or something.”
“Yeah, a walk would be nice.”
I hop down from the stool and head to the counter to order another coffee. Once it’s in hand, Bailey and I head outside and down the sidewalk. The city is nearly empty for a Saturday morning, but this is how it normally is during this time of year. During the summer months, Charleston is packed with tourists and you can’t walk more than a block without spotting a carriage carrying people down the old historic roads. Now though, it’s just a few stragglers like Bailey and I who are brave enough to walk around when it’s hardly fifty degrees outside which is practically freezing for those of us who live here year round.
We make our way down to a pier where boats are docked and the shrimp boats bring in their morning haul. As I find a trash can to toss out my freshly emptied cup of coffee, I feel my phone buzzing in the cross-body I was wearing. Pulling it out, confusion catches between my brows as I read the contact name.
“Who is it?” Bailey tilts her head quizzically.
“It’s Malcolm.”
“Ooohhhh, your hot man friend is calling you for a booty call.” She shimmies my arms and does a dance and I laugh her off.
“No, it’s weird, he should be at the bar right now. He never calls me when he’s at work.” I don’t know if it’s the dreary weather or the fact that the ocean looks angry, but something about seeing his name on my phone makes my stomach sink. I take a quick breath and swipe my thumb across the screen.
“Hello?”
His voice comes out hurried and panicked and by the way the call comes over, I can tell he is calling me from his truck. “Ophelia—something’s wrong with Marshall. They’re taking him to the hospital.”
“Where?” I ask, not needing to ask any other questions to know that he needs me.
“He’s being transported to the university hospital now. Cardiology unit.”
“I’ll be right there.”