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“Hey, Mom. Everything go okay?”
“Much better than expected. The infusion was completed about an hour ago, and I feel great. Better than I have in weeks.”
“That sounds promising.”
“Something feels off to me. I shouldn’t feel so good. The chemo is supposed to make me tired and nauseous. I’d phone the nurse, but it would sound stupid to call because I feel good.”
“Frankee is here with me right now. Would you want me to ask her if she knows what that means?”
“That would be wonderful.”
I take the phone away from my mouth. “My mom’s chemo finished infusing about an hour ago. She says she feels good. Too good. Better than she does on a good day and it’s making her worry something is wrong.”
“I’m sure they pre-treated her with steroids before her treatment.”
I bring the phone back to my ear. “Frankee thinks they pre-treated you with medication. Did they give you something before the chemo?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure what it was.”
I nod to Frankee.
“She’ll be fine today and probably get tired tomorrow evening.”
I take the phone away from my ear and hit mute. “She’s scared and confused. Do you mind talking to her?”
“I don’t mind.”
I pass my phone to her. “Hello, Mrs. Beckman. This is Frankee.”
She smiles, and I wonder what my mother said to elicit that lovely expression.
“I don’t mind at all. What I was explaining to Porter was that I believe they gave you a dose of steroids before your chemo to boost your energy level. The steroid is why you feel so good right now. It makes you a little hyper sometimes, so you might not be able to sleep tonight. A Benadryl an hour or two before bedtime won’t hurt a thing.”
Frankee is silent for a moment before continuing. “I suspect it’s different for everyone, but my mom always started getting tired the next day. Usually around five, depending upon what time her infusion completed. Occasionally the malaise would wait until the following morning. My mother never had problems with nausea and vomiting, but her doctor was generous with meds to prevent that.”
Frankee motions for me to eat.
I shake my head. “Not without you.”
Frankee takes the phone away from her ear and hits mute. “Eat. You need to keep up your strength.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She takes a small bite here and there as she talks to my mom. Twenty minutes later, they’re still talking. And Frankee looks content to keep it up all day. She doesn’t appear the least bit annoyed.
I can see that this conversation won’t be ending anytime soon.
I call out, “Mom, we’re on our lunch break. We’ve gotta go back to work.”
Frankee giggles, and I know my mother probably called me a shit-ass since that’s her favorite name for me.
“It was lovely talking to you too. You’re welcome to call me anytime you like.”
She ends the call. “My mom didn’t want to say goodbye to me?”
“I don’t think so… shit-ass.” Frankee cackles. “Ah, a mother’s love.”
“I take it that your mom doesn’t have an adorable nickname like shit-ass for you?”
“She has some, but none of them are as good as that.”
“You’d love my mother.” And she would love you.
“I can tell just by talking with her that I would.”
“As much as I hate it, we really need to get dressed and head back to the brewery.”
“I know. The longer we’re gone, the more people are going to talk.”
We’re redressing when Frankee leans closer to the dresser mirror. “I’m going to kill you, Porter Beckman.”
“Why? What’d I do?”
Frankee spins around and walks toward me. “Look at what you did. You put hickeys all over me.”
Well, shit. “I’m sorry.”
She pulls the V of her shirt downward. “Look at this purple one on the top of my titty.”
I shouldn’t have been so careless. But damn if I don’t love seeing my marks on her.
“Do you have any makeup with you?”
“A little powder.”
“Try covering the ones on your neck with that. And if it doesn’t work, let your hair down.”
“I left wearing a topknot. People are going to suspect something went down if I come back with my hair looking different.”
“Leave your hair up so they can see my hickeys, and they’re not going to suspect anything. They’re going to know something went down. Pun intended.”
“Shit-ass.”
Frankee leaves the bedroom and comes back with her purse. She dips her finger into the powder and then dabs it on top of the purplish-red marks. “What do you think?”
“Better but you need to take your hair down. Suspicion would be preferable over confirmation.”
“You’re right.”
I go to her and wrap my arms around her from behind. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m not mad.”
She has the power to make me forget reason. “I lost myself in you. Close wasn’t close enough. Even when I was buried balls deep, I wanted to be deeper inside you.”
“I know. I felt the same.”
“When can I see you again?” I can already tell that one hit isn’t going to be enough.
“I don’t know. When do you want to see me again?”
“Tonight.”
“That soon, huh?”
“You don’t want to see me tonight?”
“I do, but it feels a little risky. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do if my dad knows I left with you and stayed gone for over two hours. It feels like I’m asking for trouble if I don’t go home after work.”
“You think we need to lie low for
a little while?”
“I don’t think it’s a terrible idea.”
“I need to know how long it’s going to be before I can have you again.”
“Three days?”
“Fuck no.” I won’t make it that long.
“Two doesn’t throw anyone off our trail.”
“Well, neither does three. All we really accomplish is three days of sexual frustration.”
“I don’t think we have to make that decision right now. We need to see what kind of damage is done first. See who says what.”
That makes sense. “I agree.”
“So we’re leaving here not knowing when we’ll be together again?”
“Correct.”
“I don’t like that at all.”
“I don’t either, but we’re secret lovers. It is what it is.”
At least we hope we’re still a secret.
I look up when I hear the three soft taps on my office door. “Just wanted to stick my head in and say bye before I go.”
I motion with my hand for Frankee to come into my office. I wait until she’s close to ask the question on my mind all afternoon. “Everything okay when you got back?”
I dropped her off and waited in my truck a good fifteen minutes before coming in. I know people aren’t stupid, but it would probably look bad for both of us to return together at almost three o’clock.
“I think so. Molly wasn’t at her desk when I came in. No one has said anything to me except my dad. He believes we just missed each other at lunch. I think we dodged a bullet.”
Hearing that makes me feel like we have a get-out-of-jail-free card that we haven’t used yet.
I get up and go to the door, shutting and locking it.
“Porter… we got lucky today, but we shouldn’t push it.”
“It’s a quarter after five. Anyone working in the office is always out of here at five on the dot. We’re alone.”
“My dad never leaves before five-thirty.”
“Don’t worry. He’s in the warehouse.”
Her arms go up and around my shoulders as I pull her into my embrace. Our kiss is gentle but also filled with passion. Makes me want to take her to the sofa and do bad things, but I can tell that she’s too nervous for that. “I just needed to kiss you again and make sure you’re okay before you go.”
