27
Ghosts in the bedroom
[Midge]
Spent, Hank pulls out of me, using his disposed towel to wipe us off. Then he flips to his back, tugging me to his chest. I’m draped over him until he shifts, rolling me onto my back and lowering himself so his head falls to my breasts. His arms rest along my sides. My fingers comb through his hair, stroking over his head, scratching lightly. The tension releases from him, and his weight grows heavier.
My thoughts, however, weight the heaviest. I can’t possibly sleep although I’m drained from the evening and slightly edgy from the lack of orgasm.
How would it be to find out you are a father to an adult child with special needs? It’s hard enough to prepare yourself for an infant when you are young, but then to layer on all the additions in Hank’s case. I can’t imagine what he thinks or what he feels. The lies Kit told him. The truth he should have fought to seek. This is beyond my comprehension. It’s another reminder I’m not part of Hank’s world. The rock star life is a mystery to me. One I never pondered or sought. I like music well enough, but I don’t think about it further than my interpretation of a song. There’s a person behind the meaning—a human with a life, who lives with his own demons and dreams. Just like anybody else. Though, Hank’s story seems extreme.
Almost twenty years in an emotionally abusive relationship—that’s what he’s lived. One where his heart ruled his dick. He couldn’t see how unhealthy she was for him, though his other addictions might have also clouded his decisions. The rock star world, I think, but want to dismiss the casual thought. It’s unfair to Hank who appears to have a big, generous heart. He’s been taken advantage of because of it.
I continue to stroke his head, letting his weight melt over me. I could love this man completely, but he has a difficult journey ahead of him, and there’s one area where I can’t compete. Hank shifts, and I twist to find a bedside clock. I need to get home. Rolling opposite Hank, I reach for my clothes, yet something pinches inside me. He didn’t hurt me. I hate to admit I liked the roughness. It’s only I wish the intensity was for me.
“Where you going, little lady?” he mutters, his voice groggy with sleep. I finish slipping my dress over my head. It’s casual and carefree as I didn’t know where my mystery date was going to lead.
“I need to get home. It’s a school night for the boys.” I stand, straightening everything. Laying on his back, he wipes a hand down his face.
“Don’t leave,” he whispers, but I have to go. His eyes plead, but it’s not me he’s looking at.
“Hank.” I exhale as I take a seat on the edge of his bed. Reaching for his hand, I wrap my fingers over his. “I like having sex with you. Like it a lot,” I tease without humor.
“I like having sex with you, too, little lady.” His smile grows, but the sparkle to his steel-colored eyes remains missing.
“But it’s turning into more for me.”
“Midge—”
“And Lawson needs to be the more in your life. You need to be all in with him. A child. A son. Wow, Hank, he should be your number one priority.”
“He will be.”
“That’s how it should be for a parent. You’ll do everything for him. I know you will.” Hank stares at me, his forehead furrowing in question. “It will take time, but he’ll understand who you are. Who you were meant to be.”
“Midge?”
“I know it’s late...all these years. It must be a shock to find out he really is yours, but you’ll be great for him. You’ll be just what he needs.” A tear slips from my eye, and I’m not certain if I’m trying to convince him or me. Hank needs to step up to this discovery.
Perching up on an elbow, he grips my fingers tighter within his and says, “I plan to do everything I can. I have a lot to learn, but I’ll get there. I have to.”
“I know you will,” I repeat. “You’re a good man, Hank Paige.”
“What are you not saying, little lady?” His voice deepens as he swallows.
“I can’t compete.”
“You aren’t competing with my son.”
“No, I’m competing with a ghost.” His eyes widen, and I continue before he can speak. “I understand loving someone else first. I was married for fifteen years. I thought Paul was my everything, but divorcing is different. It’s a choice; whether both parties agree or not, it ends with a choice.”
“Midge,” he warns with his tone, but I plow on.
“Death isn’t a choice. As much as you prepare for it, someone is taken from you before their time, before your time. You loved her, Hank, and I understand that. I do. But I can’t fight her memory.”
“You aren’t,” he says, his voice weak.
“I am. Lawson will be a constant reminder of her. God forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, but she lied to you. She wasn’t good to you, honey, and you deserve someone who will be. You deserve to be somebody’s someone.” I take a deep breath, swallowing as I blink back the tears. “But so do I. With this new discovery, you aren’t ready for me. Lawson is another notch in the struggle of your love for Kit. Beautiful, famous, lying Kit. And I’m not her.” My voice squeaks with bitterness I feel toward a woman I’ve never met, who destroyed the heart of this man, and continues to do so from the grave. “Your life is a love song, only I’m singing the wrong lyrics.”
I draw his fingers up to my lips, kissing his warm skin. His scent lingers. Manly. Woodsy. I stand before more tears fall. A crying woman is the last thing this man needs.
“I don’t want you to go,” he admits, and it almost breaks me. I want to crawl back into his bed and hold him, but I have my own responsibilities. Three of them. Waiting for me at home. Not to mention, my heart can’t take anymore.
“I don’t want to leave, but I already called an Uber,” I lie.
He sits up and reaches for me, calling out, “Kit.”
And that’s my cue to go.
“Fuck…Midge,” follows me out the bedroom door. I skip down the stairs to find Chopper sitting in the living room.
“Midge?” His eyes widen in surprise.
“Could you give me a ride?” My voice shakes as I ask, tears running down my cheeks. “I want to go home.”