The Singles Table, page 25
“No. I don’t need anything.” He was barely hanging on, his emotions raw and bare, the dark silent part of him still caught in the threads of the nightmare. He’d lost everyone—JD, his men, Storm. Tonight he’d almost lost his mom. And now Zara was here, seeing him weak when he was supposed to be strong, suffering because he’d lost control of his demons. He was no good for anyone. He’d been a fool to think he was. “Go home, Zara. Leave me alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly. “If this were my family and my dad was in the hospital, I wouldn’t be alone for a minute. My apartment would be filled with aunties and uncles, the counters would be heaving with food, and someone would have rented a room in the hospital so people could be there for him when he woke up. We are not meant to go through life’s challenges alone. We don’t have to shoulder all the burdens. That’s what family is for, and since your family is in the hospital, you get me. I don’t have to sleep with you. The couch is fine. But if you need to talk, or you need a hug, or you just need to turn on the television and have a warm body beside you, I’m here. I’m not a great cook like my aunties, but I’ve brought some groceries and I stopped at an Indian restaurant to bring some takeout so you’re not going to starve.” She turned away. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
Something cracked inside him, spilling emotions all over the place. He waited until he heard banging in the kitchen and then he slammed the door.
• 24 •
“Don’t even think about it.” Jay’s mother lifted a warning eyebrow when he walked into the hospital room she shared with Rick. After three days of heavy sedation following her surgery, she was finally lucid and aware. By contrast, after waking every morning to find Zara on his couch and his kitchen full of food, Jay was still angry and confused. Why wouldn’t she just sleep at home? Why did she come over every evening just to sit alone on his couch? Couldn’t she see from his closed door that he didn’t want her there? Apparently she couldn’t take a hint because every night she showed up to do it all again. What the hell was she trying to prove?
“What are you talking about?” He put a potted plant on the windowsill beside an enormous bouquet of roses, and dozens of colorful cards from the kids at her daycare. “Can’t a son visit his mother in the hospital after she’s been in a serious accident?”
“I know you.” She gave him an admonishing look. “You’re planning to ground me. Well, I will not be driven around in a fancy limo like I’m some big-shot celebrity. As soon as I get the all clear from the doctor, I’m buying a new car.”
“I told her a Hummer H2 is the way to go.” Rick gave him a nod when he pulled up a chair beside his mother’s bed. “That thing is built like a tank. No one’s gonna hurt her in three quarters of a ton of solid steel.”
“For once, I agree with you.” His mother had escaped with a concussion, a broken arm, internal injuries, and two broken ribs. Rick had taken the brunt of the impact, suffering a broken leg, a shattered collarbone, a punctured spleen, and more. The airbags had saved their lives but had left their faces a mass of bruises.
“I’m not driving a Hummer around San Francisco.” She winced when she sank back in the bed.
Jay jumped up from his seat. “You want me to get the nurse? Do you need something for the pain?”
“I’m fine.” She waved him back down.
“I’m not fine,” Rick said. “The food here is shit. I sent one of my buddies out for some pizza and wings. He’s getting your mom a couple of fish tacos and some of that healthy green juice that tastes like grass.”
“Are you allowed to eat outside food?” He couldn’t believe they could even chew with their faces so swollen and bruised.
“Nothing wrong with the stomach.” Rick slapped his belly with his unbroken hand. “It’s the padding. If I looked like you, I’d probably be dead. You’ve got no body fat. Go eat a couple of burgers, drink a few milkshakes, maybe get something deep fried. Calories save lives. I should put that on a T-shirt.” He looked over at Jay’s mom. “Hey, babe. What do you think? We could get his ’n’ hers to wear under our jackets on our trip.”
“We’re taking Rick’s bike down the coast when we’re better,” his mother said when Jay lifted a brow in inquiry. “We were planning to do it this fall, but we’ll have to wait.”
Jay held up his hands, palms forward. “You’re going to ride on a motorcycle? After this? Seriously?” He shook his head. “I can’t even . . .”
“Dude, you gotta chill,” Rick called out. “These things happen. We were in a Volvo driving in a school zone, for fuck’s sake. You can’t get safer than that.”
“You’re angry because you’re afraid.” Jay’s mom reached out her hand and he clasped it in his own.
“Of course I’m afraid,” he gritted out. “I thought I’d lost you. Again. It was too much.” His voice rose, raw and ragged. “What would I do? You’re all I have.” He squeezed her hand, trying to get a handle on the emotions that were still dangerously close to the surface. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours since her accident, hadn’t been to work or even the gym. He hoped that she wouldn’t smell the alcohol on his breath, because it was the only way he could function without going insane.
“What about Zara?” Worried eyes studied his face.
He stood to pour her a glass of water. “I’m no good for her. Not like this. She deserves better. I’m a fucking mess, Mom. I almost couldn’t walk into the hospital and when I did, they admitted me and had a shrink come and talk to me. She gave me some pills and insisted I go home until you were out of surgery. She said I was a liability risk and it wouldn’t do you any good to see me that way.”
“Zara didn’t mention that you’d seen a psychiatrist.”
Jay froze, his hand on the pitcher. “Zara was here? When did you see her?”
“I saw her this morning, but the nurses told me she’s been here every day.” She nodded at the windowsill. “Those roses are from her. She brought her doctor friend Parvati to meet me, and some of her aunts and uncles, and a cousin or two. It was like a party in here. We were never alone.”
“They all knew Days of Our Lives,” Rick called out. “One of her uncles downloaded the new season to my tablet for me. I’ve watched it three times already. More kidnappings. And everyone’s running around with chloroform drugging everyone else. Where do they get it? That’s what I’d like to know. It sure as heck isn’t sitting on the shelf in my local Walmart.”
“I’ll tell her tonight not to bother you anymore.” What the hell was Zara doing? This was his mom. He didn’t need any help looking after her. He’d been with her through her cancer treatment and he’d be here through this.
Was Zara trying to torture him with kindness? He had too much to deal with to handle the emotions he felt when he was with her—emotions she didn’t share. She’d said she wasn’t interested in a relationship, and why would she choose a man so damaged, he’d hurt her in his sleep? He still felt sick to his stomach when he remembered her standing at the foot of his bed with her hand over her eye.
“You’re going to see her tonight?” His mother’s face perked up.
“She comes every night.” He sank into his chair. “She sleeps on my couch, cooks breakfast before she goes to work, brings dinner every evening, and even leaves me a packed lunch to bring to the hospital. She sings to herself and she dances around the apartment. Yesterday, she decided to redecorate and now there are cushions and plants and knickknacks everywhere. My place is a disaster. There are clothes and shoes and handbags all over the floor. I can barely close the fridge because there is so much food. She even comes into my room to check on me when I’m sleeping.” It wasn’t the creak of the door or the soft tread of slippers on carpet, or even the sliver of light that told him he wasn’t alone. It was her scent—wildflowers and cinnamon and a soft summer breeze.
Tears glittered in his mother’s eyes. “She’s taking care of my boy.”
Jay bristled. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. Taking care of people is my job.”
“Not now. Not like this.” His mother patted his hand. “Talk to her, Jay. Or talk to someone. You have the number for the VA clinic. Maybe this is a wake-up call and it’s time you finally got some help.”
* * *
• • •
“Jay? Do you want some poison? Taara Auntie came by with some food.” Zara settled on Jay’s couch with her laptop to get some work done. She didn’t expect him to answer. After five days of sleeping on Jay’s couch, their little standoff had become a contest of wills. He wanted her here but he couldn’t admit it. She knew as much because otherwise he would have locked his front door.
“It’s a new fusion dish,” she called out. “It looks like a gray blob with something swimming on top.”
Moments later, the bedroom door slammed open. Jay walked past her to the kitchen and filled a glass of water. She could see his reflection in the TV. He was watching her, just as she was watching him.
“Since it’s Friday, I was planning to watch something on TV after I check my e-mails. Do you want to join me?” She picked up the remote and flicked rapidly through the channels until she came to a baking show.
She heard a humph behind her and kept flipping. Footsteps. A looming presence behind the couch. Military show. Bad idea. Medical drama. Worse. He grunted his disapproval of reality TV, documentaries, and Seinfeld reruns. She stopped at a crime show and he walked around to sit at the far end of the couch. Progress. Ditching the idea of working when he’d finally decided to join her, she closed her laptop and settled back to watch the show.
Two episodes later, he finally spoke. The first words he’d said to her in five days. “Why don’t you leave?”
“Hmmm.” She stroked her chin as if considering. “Let me think. Maybe because your mother was in a serious accident. It triggered your PTSD and you had a full-blown panic attack at the hospital. Your nightmares have gotten worse. You aren’t going to work or the gym and you’re not taking calls from Elias or any of your friends. You aren’t getting any help, and you are all alone. How is that for a start?”
His face smoothed to an expressionless mask. “So, you feel sorry for me.”
“I feel compassion, not pity. And I’m worried about you. I don’t abandon my friends. I’m here for you, Jay. Any way you need me.”
With a huff, he walked back to his bedroom and closed the door.
A few hours later, she woke to Jay’s strong hands lifting her off the couch. He carried her to his room and placed her gently in the bed. Climbing up behind her, he tucked her against his body, his arms wrapped tight around her like he was afraid to let her go.
“I was piloting a helicopter south of Kabul on my last deployment,” he said quietly. “My copilot JD was making plans for all the things he was going to do when we got back home, and we were joking about some girl he said he was going to marry. We were bringing eleven marines as reinforcements to one of the bases. It was a perfect day. Sunny. Clear sky. We were about ten minutes from our landing site. Storm was in the helicopter with us. He was being a goofball, making everybody laugh. The shot came out of nowhere. One second things were all good, and the next we were going down. Controls were shot. JD was just . . . gone. Men were screaming. There was nothing I could do. I watched the ground rush up to meet us, figured I’d die with my men. Instead, I woke up in a field hospital with just a couple of broken bones.” His arm tightened around her. “I don’t know why I didn’t die with the rest of them. I should have died with them. It wasn’t right.”
“It’s no wonder this has been so hard for you.” Zara turned in his arms. “What can I do to help?”
He let out a shuddering breath. “You can go find yourself a guy who’s not all messed up.”
“I kinda like this guy.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “If you hadn’t noticed, messed up is my specialty.”
His hand slid under her nightshirt and he stroked the curve of her hip. “I need you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” She drew his hand down to her lace-covered rear. “I’ve been wearing special panties every night in case you did.”
* * *
• • •
She woke with a start to bright sunshine and the sound of breaking glass. Shaking off sleep, she made her way to the kitchen, where she found Jay cleaning glass off the floor.
“I wanted to make breakfast,” he said by way of explanation.
“It’s all made. All you had to do was heat it up.”
Ten minutes later they sat across from each other at Jay’s small table. Zara had warmed up some sali par eedu for a carb-protein combo that could conquer the day, along with some rava pongal and rich dark coffee for the perfect morning meal.
“This is better than toast and eggs.” Jay dug into his meal with gusto.
“Mehar Auntie made it. I took her to see your mom because she’s always great company. She also goes a little cooking crazy when anyone she knows is in the hospital. You should see our fridge.”
“I’ll bring the leftovers to Mom and Rick,” Jay said between bites. “They need to eat something healthy. They’ve become junk-food addicts. Their room is like a frat house with all the burger wrappers and pizza boxes, and the TV blaring all day long.” He scraped his hand through his hair. “Rick won’t stop talking about the accident, so I have to live it over and over and over again. I’m going to ask Avi to put us at a different table for his wedding if Mom and Rick are still planning to attend.”
“Us?”
“You and me.” Jay sipped his coffee. “We’re a couple. We can sit at the couples table now.”
Zara put down her fork and carefully chose her words. “Jay, I was here for you because you needed me. I won’t deny we have chemistry in bed, and I enjoy spending time with you. I love your sense of humor, and your protectiveness, and how you always make me feel safe. But mostly I love how you accept me for who I am. I don’t have to pretend with you. I can laugh and dance and run barefoot through a party to meet my celebrity crush, and I know you’ll still be there when I get back.”
Jay stilled, the coffee cup still steaming in his hands. “That’s how things are supposed to be when couples get together.”
“But we’re not a couple,” she insisted. “In the big scheme of things, nothing has changed. I’ve always been up front with you about my limitations in the relationship department, and I thought you understood and accepted that. I can’t take that extra step where we open our hearts and pour out our souls, because I’m the kind of person who would just keep pouring until everything was gone.” She took another bite of her meal, but it turned to sawdust on her tongue. “I was devastated as a child when my dad drove away. I didn’t understand what was happening. One day we were eating ice cream and playing ball in the park and the next he was gone. I didn’t know that conflict leads to permanent separation. I didn’t know love wasn’t forever.”
“We’re not them,” he said abruptly. “I know all that about you and I love you just as you are.” He reached for her hand. “I love you, Zara.”
Zara’s heart squeezed in her chest. He loved her. He loved her and now she’d have to walk away. She’d made a terrible mistake coming here. Why hadn’t she considered that in his vulnerable emotional state he might mistake her gesture of support as something else entirely?
“I have to go.” She jumped up from the table, upsetting the little dishes of dip she’d put out for their meal. Where were her damn clothes? Why had she brought so much stuff with her? How was she going to get it all out to her car?
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He followed her through the living room. “I just meant I accept you with your limitations. We can take it as slow as you want. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Zara stripped off her pajamas and yanked on her jeans, hopping across the clothes-strewn floor. She found an orange shirt that was only slightly stained and pulled it on, desperate to get dressed before he touched her and she fell under his spell again.
“Jay, you’re going through a hard time.” She stuffed her clothes in the nearest bag, heedless of the inevitable creases. “I came here because I was worried about you, because we’re friends. It’s what I would do for anyone I care about. If I’ve led you to think it meant something else, I am so sorry.”
“Don’t go,” he said. “You don’t need to run from me. We can talk about it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you any more than you’re already hurting.” She grabbed her bag and shoved the last of her things inside.
“Zara . . .”
“I’m sorry, Jay. I made a mistake. I can’t do this anymore.”
• 25 •
Bleary-eyed after spending the last twenty-four hours watching soul-destroying musicals, Zara had just put on Les Misérables for the second time when Parvati walked in the door after finishing her shift. “Not that again. Honestly. Aren’t there other sad musicals you can watch as you wallow in self-pity?”
“I watched them. And when I ran out of sad ones, I watched the sad scenes of the happy ones. I’ve seen West Side Story three times, so I can remind myself how ill-fated relationships are supposed to end. But Les Mis is the best. It reflects my inner angst.”
“I thought you said you and Jay didn’t have a relationship.” Parvati pulled a tub of ice cream from her shopping bag and tossed it to Zara.
“Spoon?”
“I thought your heart was broken and not your legs.” She headed for the kitchen. Parvati talked tough but she was a softie inside.
“I can’t get up when I’m in the depths of despair.” Zara collapsed back on the couch. “Why would he say that to me, Parvati? Why?”
