MICHAEL
"It won't take that long to get the x-rays and MRI done, so stop being so impatient." Lana scolds Joseph, who's sitting at the edge of his bed resembling a child who's just been told he has to wait for dessert. The frown on his face is almost petulant and I want to laugh.
I expect to see a frown on Lana’s face too but her expression is soft and worried. It’s the look of someone who cares and I experience a flash of pure bright jealousy. She’s been caring for Joseph for a while now, so I understand that they might have built a rapport. I understand, but I don’t like it. I want her to look at me like that.
When Joseph goes to try and pull himself up to a stand, Lana immediately leans over to try and help him but Joseph’s stubborn ass decides to push her off, glaring at the both of us. "I've got this."
I can see the tension working in Lana's jaw as she fights to keep calm. "If you insist. Be my guest." She sweeps her hand to the side to allow him to maneuver past her slowly, Joseph grunting with all the effort it takes to reach the doorknob.
Over the past month, he's actually been doing a pretty good job working through the pain to take his first real steps, steps assisted by either Lana or myself, but steps nonetheless. I have to admit that seeing the smallest of smiles on my brother’s face as he works his way out the door to where the medical transport has been set up outside, helps reinforce the fact that it was a good idea to bring Lana in to help.
"Do you have everything you need? All the paperwork?" I ask the hospital staff worker who’s helping to load Joseph into the van. He gives me a quick nod before they take off with Joseph, leaving me and Lana standing, watching the van disappear around the corner.
"You know, you're a real miracle worker," I finally say to her just as she’s starting to turn away and head back up the driveway. Lana does the usual rolling of her eyes, but I can just tell she's secretly pleased by the compliment.
"No, I mean it, Lana. You’ve done everything you can to help keep Joseph comfortable making sure he gets his medicines at the right time, seeing to it that he moves around enough, and even dealing with his well… lesser traits, if you will. It takes a special kind of person to be able to handle something like that."
Her walking slows down but she keeps going anyway, brushing her hair out of her face. When she looks back over her shoulder at me, her warm brown eyes regard me carefully. "Just doing my job. That's all."
"But you know Joseph isn't the best of taking care of himself. And God knows I'm too busy most of the time with work, especially having to do double with him being out of commission at the moment. Running back and forth between here and everywhere else… I didn't realize it would be such a mess."
I stop short, realizing I've probably already said too much.
Even though I know I should be doing roughly a hundred other things, I follow behind Lana until we're back in Joseph's room, watching Lana start to strip the bed and get everything ready for him to come back home later on today. Feeling somewhat helpless, I take the new bed linens out of the closet in the room and hand them to her, my breath quickening when her skin brushes against mine as she takes them out of my hands.
"You don't have to help me," she says softly. Maybe I wasn't the only one affected by the touch…
But I just wave her off. "Of course I'm going to help. I might as well since I'm already here, right?" I see the way she's working up to refusing, but I cut her off again. "I'm not taking no for an answer, Lana. It's really no big deal, I promise. It'll only take a few minutes."
There's the slightest of nods from her, and I see the way she's worrying at her bottom lip as she gently tugs the corner of the fitted sheet down, smoothing over the top with her hand. It's quiet, and neither one of us are saying anything. The only sound in the room is the rustling of the sheets, the scuffing of our shoes across the hardwood floors. I can almost hear her breathing.
Once we’re finished, Lana gives me a small smile and heads out of the room. Something pulls at me, and I follow after her. I’m avoiding the huge pile of paperwork that’s currently stacked up on my desk. As she checks something on her cell phone at the kitchen island, I breeze past her to the wet bar, pulling out my personal favorite Chardonnay, searching for two empty wine glasses. "Would you like a glass of wine?" I call out to her.
"I… I don't think so."
I can already envision Lana's face screwing up with her refusal, trying to think of the easiest way to let me down. That's just the kind of person she is, but I've already poured two glasses and as I walk back around the corner, I hand her the glass of wine, shrugging, unable to keep the smile off my face. "Don't worry, I think your boss will be cool with it." And I smile wider at the way her cheeks flush red. "Besides, Olivia's at school for the day. My brother will be gone for a few hours at the hospital anyway. This is kind of like your time off. I think you could do with a break, don't you?"
Our eyes meet only for a moment before hers quickly dart away as she takes the glass for me. "Just the one, though," she says, looking warily grateful.
I hold my other hand up, laughing. "Just the one, that's fine. Cheers to unexpected friends," I say raising the glass of wine.
Lana mimics me slowly, her dark eyebrow raised. "Unexpected friends?"
"You know. It's just that Joseph and I are both getting used to having you around, that's all. I mean you and Olivia both, obviously. I think having a woman's presence here is nice, it's a good change for us. There's plenty enough testosterone in here."
Lana just snorts, slowly shaking her head. "Maybe, but Rita's here every day. I would say she helps to balance things out."
"Well, yes, perhaps. But Rita's…well, she is a different story." What I want to say is that Rita is sort of like our unattractive aunt who we consider closer to family. Not a beautiful young woman with gorgeous dark curls that I'm desperate to get my hands on, but I don't say that.
And because I don't say that, Lana presses me, tilting her head to the side with a slight grin. "She's what? What kind of different story?" And surprising me, and perhaps even herself, she playfully pushes at my hand that's resting on top of the kitchen island. The flush that runs under her cheeks catches my attention almost immediately, making it harder for me to find the right words.
I stumble over them, ungracefully. "It's just different with you, you're not her. And she's not…you."
Her eyes flash, her lashes fluttering as she takes in my tone, and I can only imagine what she's thinking. What my words must've sounded like. The truth, probably, and though I fully expect her to pull away as she always does, the moment tension between us starts to bloom, she stands her ground, searching my face. Finally, Lana looks away, carefully sipping her Chardonnay. It's in this moment that she suddenly looks more beautiful than before. It hits me like a ton of bricks, how much I want her, how much I've been wanting to touch her.
Abandoning all sense, every bone in my body, every single muscle feels as though it's going to explode if I don't do something, and I lean in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away before my lips meet hers. Her soft full lips are surprised but her mouth opens slightly, encouraging me. I pull her up against me, none too gently, not caring if she can tell just how much I want her. A soft noise escapes Lana's mouth as I kiss the corner of it, drawing in a gasp myself as she pulls her arms around my neck. Her back is bowed against the edge of the island, and all I want to do is lift her up, taste every inch of her, explore every single part of her soft body.
I can feel how she melts against me, her tongue grazing mine. It lights something within me, and I'm fisting my hand in her hair, hungry for so much more, overwhelmed by the fierceness of my reactions.
Lana's hands slipped down my shoulders along the length of my arms, squeezing at my biceps as she makes her hands disappear behind me, starting to untuck my shirt from my pants. She’s untucking my shirt, and my heart skitters at the way she’s so damn into this too. I trail my lips down her jaw, another moan escaping her mouth as I do. The sound hits me right in the balls and I press against her, inhaling her scent. She smells so fucking good I can hardly stand it, like sweet spices and clean soap. Like sexy and smart all rolled up in one. The best combination.
Through the sex fog, it dawns on me that a melodic buzzing is coming from somewhere behind her, and her eyes fly open wide. Lana's quick to pull away from me, seizing for her phone and I’m left drifting towards her, panting and disheveled.
She’s staring the screen with wide eyes. "It's the school... I better take this,” she says, her voice huskier than usual.
Reality quickly penetrates the moment, and I find myself apologizing, though I'm not sure I really mean it.
"It's…just, let's not worry about it right this minute. It was probably just the wine anyway," she says picking up the phone.
The wine? But we had only had a few sips.
She turns away for a moment, answering the phone, listening in for a moment before she tells them thank you and hangs up. "Well, that was the school nurse, and apparently Olivia sick. I'm gonna need to go pick her up." Lana is already grabbing for her purse and keys on the edge of the island, and I'm trying to think of what to say next.
"I can come with you, I can have the driver —"
"No. I'll take the car, thank you, but this is a parent thing. I'll go pick her up myself." Her words are firm, just like her expression. There'll be no arguing with her here.
I’m surprised by how much her words sting, but I shrug it off. "Yeah, of course." Something tickles the back my mind about Olivia and school… "Lana? Have you considered my offer to set up Olivia with Wellington-Meade? Joseph was telling me how Olivia is working on high school level math already, and maybe it’s just my opinion, but she should be in a place where she can really thrive. She's a special girl." I can't help but smile thinking about Olivia's matter of fact personality. It reminds me so much of Lana.
"Right now? Are we really gonna do this right now? My daughter is just a sick little girl who wants her mom. She's not thinking about school, math, or anything else. So, can I go?"
I'm so surprised by her tone that I don't know would say. Clearly, I had said something wrong, overstepped some kind of invisible line. "Sure, of course. I'm sorry for bringing it up."
Lana has no time for my apology, though and turns on her heel to leave out the front door.
It takes me a few minutes to finally pull myself away from the edge of the counter, walking over to the sink to drain our glasses of wine. I can still feel Lana on my lips, her soft gasping, her small breaths. Did I just make a huge mistake?