26. Lacy
26
LACY
I look around the room. I feel a bit cold, but I take a deep breath and put my big girl panties on. I left Mom in the care of Jennifer this morning, after she made me a nice bowl of warm oats while I got ready, acting like the auntie I never had. It has been about a week since she came into our lives, and already there is a difference. I don’t feel as rushed; I don’t feel like I need to do everything, and my stress levels have lowered. Mom is happier, too. Jennifer shares her love for romance books, so I think they talk for hours about that.
I sped out the door this morning to get here, my usual Saturday routine disrupted to come to Williamstown to donate blood for the first time.
Hudson wanted to drive me, but I needed to do this on my own. Something he wasn’t happy about, so he arranged a car and driver to bring me. I couldn’t refute it because the shiny new car pulled up in my driveway just as I was walking out the door. His timing is impeccable.
“Well, this is not what I was expecting this morning. ”
I look up as Jolene walks in the door with a clipboard and a smirk. I forgot she worked here. In all the years Mom and I have been coming here, I have never once seen her. I see her mostly at the diner on Saturday afternoons, greeting me with her usual scowl.
“Hi, Jolene,” I say, already tense, and now even more so as she flicks through my patient notes. I frown, not needing her to know any more about my personal business. Professionalism isn’t one of her strongest qualities.
“I will be taking your donation today,” she says in a curt tone, her bedside manner no better than her usual personality. I wonder briefly if I can press the call button and request someone else.
“Thank you.” I decide to be cordial as I watch her hook up the needle and bag, getting everything ready. She at least seems to know what she is doing.
“This is your first time?” she asks, not looking at me, and I take a deep breath. It appears small talk is what we are doing, which is entirely new for us.
“Yes. It’s for my mom,” I tell her, although I’m sure she knows already.
“Guessed as much,” she says as she puts a ribbon around my upper arm, pulling it tight. “Make a fist with your hand and squeeze a few times. I need to find your vein.”
I do what she asks, my teeth biting down, anticipation of the sting getting to me.
“Great. Here we go,” she says, and I look away as I feel the sharp sting in my elbow, but it eases almost as quickly as it occurs.
“All done. You just need to sit here for a moment. It will take about five to ten minutes. I will be around, but press the call button if you need anything,” she says, packing up her things and tidying up the side counter, not looking at me at all. Closing my eyes, I try to breathe.
I race into the diner, a little late, and as I push through the door, the bells chime, announcing my arrival.
“Ahhh, here she is. I was getting worried,” Rochelle says, walking up to me, looking me over in concern.
“I’m here. Better late than never,” I say, smiling, even though I feel a little lightheaded.
“Hudson is already here waiting,” she says quietly, and I look over her shoulder, seeing Hudson’s head down, frowning at his phone in a booth at the back.
“Thanks, Rochelle.” Smiling, I notice the booth Jolene and her squad usually occupy now has other patrons.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” she says, before getting back to work as I start to walk toward the booth.
“Hey,” Hudson says, his face full of worry as he stands when he sees me, striding a few steps to meet me.
“Hi!” I say, bubbly and bright, which I notice eases his shoulders somewhat.
“You’re alright? It all went okay?” He grabs my hand, pulling me to him and looking down at my face intently. His other hand runs around my waist to keep me close.
“All fine. It's just a bit of blood,” I tell him, like he doesn’t already know, and his lips thin, unimpressed.
“It is almost a pint of blood, Lacy. Eight percent of your total blood volume,” he reiterates, and I give him a small smile, even though I do still feel a bit dizzy.
“I’m fine.” My hands rest on his chest. I don't need him to worry. I’m doing this for Mom, and a bit of lightheadedness is not going to stop me.
“Well, you need sugar so I went ahead and got Rochelle to put together your sundae for you.”
Stepping back, I see the sundae on the table already, two spoons waiting nearby.
“Ugh, that looks delicious. I’m starving.” We slide into the booth, both grabbing our spoons.
“Did you eat today?” he asks as I pick out the cherry.
“Jennifer made me a delicious breakfast before I left, and I had a sandwich at the donation space.”
“So, Jennifer has settled in this week?” Hudson asks as we dig in.
“She’s a godsend. She’s already like part of the furniture. She cooks, helps with Mom, and they’re always chatting about something. I already love having her around.”
“Sounds like she is just what you need,” Hudson says, scooping up the ice cream.
“Thank you for finding her and locking her in. I know I said it before, but it really means a lot,” I tell him honestly, and he gives me a small smile and nod. “This cherry is amazing.” I twirl the stem, placing it on the napkin like I usually do.
“So no issues this morning? Everything went well?” he asks again.
I want to tell him giving blood is the least of my worries. I want to tell him that I spent the entire day so far looking over my shoulder, wondering if today is the day my worst nightmare comes to life. I have been doing research, and what I thought was purely infatuation is now obviously stalker behavior, and I barely want to think about it, let alone verbalize it.
“It was all fine. However, my nurse was Jolene,” I tell him, rolling my eyes, keeping my real thoughts to myself.
“Oh, I bet that was fun,” he says sarcastically. I have told him all about her and her school antics.
“She was surprisingly nice, actually.” Nice might be pushing it; maybe cordial is more suited.
“I would hope so. She was at work. The care and attention patients need should be at the forefront of everything she does.”
“Spoken like a true professional,” I tease.
“I got you an extra cherry,” he says, turning the sundae dish a little, where I spot an additional cherry on the side. I look at him and raise my eyebrow.
“An extra one? For me?” I ask, my grin now almost taking up my entire face.
“I like watching you eat it and twirling the stem with your tongue,” he says, sitting back, and all the concern and lightheartedness we just had now boils down into a simmering heat that has swirled around us since our date.
“You want to feed me, Hudson?” I ask quietly. The diner is busy, but no one is looking at us or paying us any attention. Positioned at the back, we are away from prying eyes. The novelty of seeing us together is slowly starting to wear off, it seems.
He smirks. “Lacy baby, there’s a lot I want to do to you,” he murmurs, and my pussy pulses. I move my hand and pick up the cherry by the stem and lift it to my mouth. I have always loved food, and while I don’t have time to make elaborate meals or bake all weekend, I do like to enjoy eating different things.
“Put it in your mouth,” he tells me, voice low, and I watch him watching me, our eyes glued. I do as he asks, and I dangle the cherry to my lips, my tongue darting out to grab it and pull it into my mouth. I bite down, then swallow the cherry juice, Hudson's eyes trailing the movement of my throat.
“Harvey is at a friend's house for a sleepover tonight,” he says, his voice gravelly.
“He is?” I ask, just as my stomach flip-flops.
“I spoke to your mom earlier today. She said Jennifer is free to spend the night with her, so I organized her to sleep over at your place tonight.” He continues, and I swallow the rest of the cherry and place the stem on my napkin. I look at him and take another deep breath as his words from weeks ago ring in my mind. I took care of it. So I nod in agreement, ready to follow him anywhere he wants to lead me.
“Come home with me?” he asks, and my breathing pauses before I smile. With him taking care of everything else, I only have to worry about me, and right now, there is nowhere else I want to be than with him. I feel a mixture of things—joy and happiness mixed with a healthy dose of trepidation. But he has waited for me. Waited for me to be at ease with him. At ease with leaving Mom, helped me morph into myself and become the woman I was always meant to be .
“Let’s go,” I say, and his grin is instant as is the way he stands and throws a few bills onto the table.
“My truck is right outside.” Putting out his hand, I slip mine into it, stepping out of the booth. The remains of the Saturday sundae now forgotten.