20. Stinky Sock Puppets
Stinky Sock Puppets
Knox
The beeping sound interrupting my sleep was irritating until I realized that hearing it was a blessing. Relief washed over me. The beeping had quickly gone from an irritant to music to my fucking ears.
“Mr. Ramsey, can you open your eyes for me?” a man asked. As much as I hated to admit it, I felt frail, and the thought of opening my eyes seemed insurmountable. “Mr. Ramsey, your wife is eager to see you.”
My wife.
And just like that, my eyes were opened, frantically searching for the woman I loved.
“Somehow, I knew that would work,” the man, who I assumed was the doctor, commented.
“Where—”
“She’s resting; trust me, she didn’t want to leave your side. We had to drag her out of here kicking and screaming.”
“Did—” I paused to swallow around the dryness in my throat, “Did she threaten you with her stapler?”
“No, but she called me a motherfucker nine times.”
“That’s my woman,” I said wistfully. “Is she injured? Has she eaten? She’s probably hangry. Once you get past the fifth motherfucker, she’s hangry,” I remarked quietly.
“She was fed.”
“What did she eat?”
“Chicken noodle soup.” I grimaced. “Is everything all right, Mr. Ramsey? Are you in pain?” he asked, raising the hospital bed. His cold stethoscope was on my chest before I could answer.
“I’m not in pain, but a fat, juicy steak sounds nice right about now.”
The doctor smiled warmly. “That’s not happening any time soon.
All right, Mr. Ramsey, let’s get down to it.
I don’t know if you remember, but I’m Dr. Hubbard.
You and your hangry wife were rescued by the U.S.
Coast Guard and brought to our vessel for triage and treatment.
Once you are stable, you both will be transported to Guam, where you’ll undergo a more thorough medical examination.
From there, you’ll be flown to our Pacific base in California for further evaluation and an intensive and rigorous interview with police, FAA, and possibly the NTSB.
Then you’ll be flown back home to New York. ”
I listened intently as Dr. Hubbard gave me the rundown on my health and what to expect during my recovery.
“Can you take me to my wife now?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Ramsey. You should stay in bed,” he worded cautiously.
“I should be dead, but here I am.”
* * *
“How the hell is someone supposed to fit in these?” I complained.
I was appalled at the coffin-sized bunk the sailors were subjected to sleeping in. You’d think they’d make the people who serve our country more comfortable.
“Did you have permission to leave the medical bay?” Victoria asked groggily.
“Of course I did.”
“After you strong-armed Dr. Hubbard, I’m assuming.”
“You’d assume correctly. Scoot over and give me some room.”
“Please return to your full-sized bed in the med bay. There is not enough room for both of us.”
I ignored her and wedged myself in the small bunk behind her. I kissed her shoulder and wrapped my arms around her. “You feel that?”
“I guess your heart is working just fine,” she commented, trying to put some distance between her and my erection digging into her ass.
“Mhm,” I agreed, rubbing my hand up and down her hip.
“No strenuous activity for two weeks.”
“That’s what that crackpot doctor said, too, but there’s nothing strenuous about it—just a little roll of the hips from King Dong, and you’re gushing all over me.”
I smiled when Victoria released a deep, regretful sigh.
“I never want to watch you die again,” she murmured.
Okay, fun time is over; it’s time to get serious.
“I hate that my recklessness nearly cost me my life and traumatized you in the process. But I want you to know that I fought to stay with you every second. There were times when I said, ‘This is it,’ and I think I saw the light at the end of the tunnel a few times. It wasn’t until I knew you were safe that I checked out. ”
“What was it like, Gio?”
I warmed like I did whenever she called me by my middle name.
“What was what like?”
“Dying?”
Emotion clogged my throat—strangling the words in a chokehold.
“It… it wasn’t fun. For me, there wasn’t a moment of enlightenment or peace, just misery and what-ifs or what could’ve been. What if I had been a gentleman to you from the start? We could’ve had a good life with kids, ferrets, and the whole nine yards.”
“I fucking hate ferrets,” she responded, sounding like she was on the cusp of sleep again.
“What’s your beef with ferrets?”
“They sleep like the dead, they stink, and I don’t like how they flop around. They’re stinky sock puppets.”
Stinky sock puppets?
“Okay, it’s time for you to go to sleep.”
“Mhm. I’ll take the kids, not the ferrets.”
“It’ll be great, Tori. Nine months from now, we’ll have a beautiful—”
“No, sir. I’m no one’s baby mama. You’re officially marrying me, and we’ll see how a year of marriage post-island goes before we bring children into this world.”
I chuckled into her back. “Is this because you doubt your feelings for me?”
“What are you asking?” she asked hesitantly.
“Are you with me out of default?”
She laughed softly. “What is with you people?”
“You people?” I asked with mock offense.
“Yes, you people who refuse to trust me with my own feelings. I spoke with my friends earlier, and they suspect I suffer from Stockholm Syndrome.”
I shrugged. “I think it’s a fair assumption. As a precaution, we should go to couples’ therapy.”
“You hate therapists.”
“I do, but I love you more, and I don’t want it to be a year from now and you look at your life and realize you made a mistake.”
“You’re not a mistake, Gio, but I hear you. You’ll never find me arguing with a man who wants to go to therapy.”
“Thank you, love. Were you able to check on your mother?”
“I did,” she admitted. “While we were gone, she was discharged from the memory care facility for non-payment.”
My brow tilted in confusion. “Non-payment?”
“After you paid me off, there was plenty of money available to cover her rent for nearly a year.”
“Did you get in contact with the bank?”
“I did. Apparently, I initiated two wires of $50,000 to Faith and Hope from my online banking a month after we were stranded.”
“Fuck,” I said, sighing.
“The bank is launching an investigation, and I’m calling in a case for Adult Protective Services because their theft put our mother in a state of neglect when she was sent to some bummy-ass nursing home that couldn’t meet her needs. Those bitches are going to the pen.”
“Amen. I’m sorry, Victoria.”
She rolled over in the bunk coffin and pinned those espresso-brown eyes on me. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I came out on top, and those bitches are gonna pay for everything.”
I kissed her, and my mind flashed back to every kiss we shared under the waterfall, the afternoons we spent huddled in the hammock—praying to get home and dreaming of A.C., ice-cold sodas, and countless hours of lovemaking.
I have a second chance at life, and I’m taking it.
I broke the kiss and stroked her face. “May I offer my assistance with having your mother transferred?”
“I can handle it.”
“I know you can, Tori, but let me do this for you, and if not for you, then for your mother as a thanks for birthing and raising the most diabolical woman I’ve ever loved.”
I thumbed away the tears that slipped from her lids.
“I’m so glad that shark didn’t eat you,” she whispered through tears. She pressed her face into my chest and wrapped her arms around me.
“Me too. But now that I think about it, why did I always suffer catastrophic injuries?”
“I was stung by a sea urchin,” she reminded me.
I rolled my eyes.
“Big fucking deal,” I murmured, feeling my lids grow heavy.
“Will you allow me to escort you back to the med bay now that you’ve properly harassed me? I’m no doctor, but I have a feeling you should be hooked up to an IV and a vital machine.”
“Sure. Just give me one more minute,” I answered sleepily.
“You’re not going back, are you?”
“Not unless you come with me.”
She groaned, and it was music to my ears.
“You better be glad I love you, Gio.”
“I love you, too, Tori.”