12. Symbiosis #2
But because of the white dwarf’s gravitational force, it sloughs away the carbon layers of the red giant, pulling them onto its surface to burn away. Essentially extending the red dwarf’s life.
I’ve always thought I was doing just fine, great, even.
I’m doing the work I love and living a healthy, satisfactory life.
But today, going on a high-speed chase for a turkey, sitting beside Rose at dinner, hearing her regale the group with stories of my mother’s pole dancing successes to everyone’s horror, and then beating all our asses at a video game, I realized how much I hold myself back.
I was a red giant until Rose’s strong gravitational pull burned away my blinders.
But, just as with the stars, I’m not sure how long both of us will last if this continues.
The wind through my 4Runner’s cracked window plays with her blond hair, which she put up in a messy bun during the tournament.
I have a feeling if I tried to explain symbiotic stars to Rose, all she’d hear is me comparing her to a “white dwarf” and she’d straight-up junk punch me. She’s funny like that.
Her humor has made me laugh more in the past few weeks than I have all of last year, probably.
Tonight, I realized that I’d made myself a loner long before I met Rose. By not wanting a lasting romantic relationship, I’d inadvertently walled myself off from most any relationship with people. Even my family.
My SUV bounces over the speed bump in my apartment complex’s parking lot.
Rose’s open mouth lets loose another snort/snore.
There isn’t much lady-like about Rose, but she is definitely all woman.
She’s one of a kind. And as much as I don’t want to dim her burning light with my dying one, I wonder if maybe we can’t prolong what we have going on.
I told myself that inviting her to Thanksgiving dinner with my family was to keep her from being lonely, but I have a feeling it was more to keep me from being alone.
Maybe it doesn’t have to end with my next flight. Maybe we could just let this run its course, until Rose is ready to move on, until she’s found what it is she wants.
But then the memory of my mother, crumpled on the floor and crying, telephone in her hand, rears its head, and I shake off my doubts. It’s better to end things when we said we would. It would be nothing but selfish for me to hold on.
I park and cut the engine, contemplating my next move. Since we didn’t drive to her penthouse, Rose told me she’d be the one to beat feet with an Uber after we played stranger danger at my place. But after today, I really hate the idea of Rose leaving.
She snort/snores again in her sleep, jarring me away from my thoughts and making me smile as only Rose can.
I slide out, closing my door carefully, and round the hood to open her passenger side door.
Rose stays asleep through me unbuckling her and swinging her legs out, but when I turn and squat down, trying to hook her arms around my shoulders in a piggyback, she stirs.
“What’s happening?” Her breath tickles my hair.
I shift her weight forward and grab under her thighs. “I’m taking you to bed.”
“Stranger danger time?” On her own, she turns her upper body toward me and wraps her arms securely over my shoulders and around my neck.
Standing, I hike her higher and more securely on my back and kick the door closed. “Sure, stranger danger time.”
“Awesome,” she mumbles into my neck, then promptly falls asleep again.
It takes quite a few minutes and some precarious balancing to get up the steps to my apartment and drop Rose gently on the bed.
“Imma rock your world,” Rose mumbles into the pillow.
She snores through me taking off her sandals and jeans.
I leave her to go to the bathroom, and by the time I’m back she’s shucked off her remaining shirt and bra and has lain diagonally across my king-size bed in just her panties.
Though Rose is near-naked and on my bed, it isn’t exactly how I planned this night to go.
However, I’m not annoyed. If anything, I’m kind of relieved.
As much as I like fulfilling orgasm guarantees with her, I also like just being with her.
It makes me feel more alive. Even if she’s passed out in a food coma.
It takes some maneuvering on my part and some inventive sleep-cursing by Rose before I finally wrestle the covers out from under her and have us situated—Rose on one side of the bed, me on the other.
Sighing, stress about today’s dinner drains away. I’m tired in a different way than I usually am when I hang around my family. Instead of anxiety, I feel… content? It’s an odd change of pace.
Though, as content as I might be, I’m still awake ten minutes later.
Something’s not right.
I run through my usual nighttime routine, wondering if I missed a step along the way. Did I forget to lock the front door? Was there something I was supposed to set my alarm for tomorrow?
Before I can figure out exactly what’s missing, Rose rolls over and lands half on top of me.
“Vance?”
“Yeah?” I curl my arm around her.
“Thanks for Thanksgiving.”
I smile up at the ceiling. “You’re welcome.” I kiss the top of her head. “Thanks for the turkey.”
She answers with a snore.
I fall asleep a moment later.
Huahh. Huahh.
It sounds like a large animal is in the throes of sex.
Huahh .
Or maybe someone vomiting? It’s hard to tell.
Rose must have moved, seeing as I can move my left arm, so I roll that way, searching for her. The sheets are warm, but she’s not there.
“Rose?”
Huahh .
Either the sound is getting louder or I’m waking up. Prying my eyes open, I see the barest beginning of sunlight making an appearance through the window.
The sound of the toilet flushing starts my brain firing, and I jump out of bed and stumble into the bathroom.
Rose is kneeling in front of the toilet, head lying on her arms, which are crossed and braced over the rim. Her eyes are closed, her brow sweaty.
“Rose?”
“Uh, no.” She doesn’t open her eyes, but she turns her head in the opposite direction. “Go away.”
I drop to my knees beside her. “You sick?”
“No, I’m vomiting out my internal organs for funsies.”
I’m glad her eyes are closed because I don’t think she’d appreciate my smile. “Yeah, sorry. Stupid question.”
She suddenly rises and hunches over the toilet again. I smooth loose strands of hair back from her face while she gags.
“How long have you been in here?”
“Maybe an hour?” She spits but doesn’t throw anything up again. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe you got it all up.”
She lays her head back down, and I stand, grabbing a washcloth from the closet.
“Want to try coming back to bed?” I soak the cloth with cold water and wring it out.
“I can bring a trash can and set it next to your side. You’ll probably be more comfortable there.
” I rub her forehead with the cloth, and she sighs.
“I should go home. I don’t want to get you sick.”
“No way you’re going home like this.” I drag the cold cloth over the back of her neck. “What do you think it is, food poisoning?”
“If it is, and you tell your mother I got sick from her Thanksgiving dinner, I’ll kill you.” She raises her head off her arm and glares at me. “Like legit run you over or something.”
Clad in only neon green lace underwear, hunched over a toilet, shaking and sweating from being sick, Rose still manages to make a mean death threat.
Things are never boring with her around.
“Come on, Rosie-girl. Up we go.” I lift her up by her armpits and brace her weight on me as she gets her feet under her.
“Damn it.” Rose shakes her foot out in front of her. “Pins and needles.” She tries walking, but it’s more a limp-hobble.
We make it to the bed, where I lay her down and tuck her in. “Just lie close to the edge. I’ll be right back with the trash can in case you need it.”
She mumbles something about embarrassment and curses three kinds of pie.
By the time I change the bag on the tall trash can from the kitchen and bring it to her, she’s out like a light. Not snoring like before but breathing deeply. She looks even younger when she isn’t cracking jokes and being a smart-ass.
Her wide brown eyes are closed, her thick lashes resting on her cheeks.
Her brows, usually moving with expression, are still and delicately arched.
A handful of freckles are scattered across her nose and high cheekbones.
And full lips, the color of her namesake, are parted, giving her an innocent look.
It almost seems impossible that such a force of nature lives inside this peaceful beauty.
Sometimes with Rose, I get lost in all the showmanship, the glitter, the jokes, the hair, but now, still and peaceful with nothing to distract me, I can see just how stunning she really is.
She glows. Like a star.