Chapter 72

SPOV

As soon as I hung up the phone, after telling Pam she needed to get her ass here pronto, I went on a cleaning spree. In part because the house really needed it, but mostly to burn off my nervous energy wondering what in the hell happened to make Prick-ric show up. He was like Sybil lately with his multiple personalities and short of wandering back into his office naked, I didn’t know how to turn him back into the sweet and flirty Eric I’d had breakfast with. While my dust rag flew across every surface I could reach, my mind had run rampant with different scenarios as to what had upset him so much.

Did something happen with his spot on the TV show? The movie he’d read for?

Did his father or, God forbid, his mother contact him?

Wondering who else might have tried contacting him, I was in the middle of imagining Eric reading hundreds of emails, all of them identical in their request to bed him except for the name…Ginger, Paprika, Cumin, Bambi Big Hole the Grand Canyon of…when Pam breezed through the foyer I was cleaning and breaking my booty call email concentration.

“So what’s his problem?” she asked while fanning away the residual cloud of furniture polish I’d just sprayed onto the hall table. Having no idea, all I could do was shrug in response and kept angrily wiping away at the table before I ended up storming back into his office and wiping Eric’s email account by repeatedly hitting the delete button.

Maybe Eric and I were tied together more closely than I’d thought, Baby Northman notwithstanding, since we seemed to channel each other’s emotions and Pam took that as her cue to go and find him before I started cleaning the makeup off of her face. I made sure to steer clear of his office and saw the car coming up the driveway through the living room window in time to meet them in the front of the house. It was the new Audi Eric had told Alcide to get being delivered and I signed for it before parking it in the garage and heading back into the house.

I had just finished up the downstairs (minus Eric’s office) and was about to start on the upper level when my phone rang. I was still in a pissy mood, at both Eric and the world in general, until I saw the caller ID.

Gran.

The tears came as soon as I answered saying, “Hi Gran.”

“Baby girl, is it true? Is Eric awake?” she asked.

The last time I’d heard her so excited was when I’d gotten my college acceptance letters and it made me smile despite my tears as I answered, “Yes Gran, it’s true.” My anger evaporated just as quickly because her question brought back the fact that Eric waking up from his coma was what truly mattered to me. His memory loss, while difficult, was just a drop in the bucket compared to the anguish I would’ve felt had I lost him forever.

“Thank the Lord! I didn’t know what to believe when I heard it on the news, but our prayers have been answered. So how is he? They said on TV he should be released from the hospital today. Is he excited to be going home?”

I hadn’t realized my feet had carried me upstairs until I found myself in the doorway staring at our bed; his bed and I swallowed the sob in my throat as I turned towards my room saying, “Actually he’s already been released. We came home yesterday.” I climbed into bed suddenly feeling the weight of the world and buried my face into the pillow Eric had used the night before with the phone still at my ear.

“Sookie? Why do you sound so sad? Is something wrong?”

We hadn’t discussed what we were telling anyone where Eric’s amnesia was concerned, but hearing the concern in Gran’s voice broke the already faulty dam on my tears and I cried, “Oh Gran…he doesn’t remember…” I caught myself just in time before I said ‘me’ and replaced it with, “He doesn’t remember the last three weeks before the accident. He doesn’t remember us getting married.” That’s twice now.

“Oh my stars. Well what did the doctor say?”

“He said that Eric’s memories might return, but there’s really no way to know.”

“Oh sweetie, I know you’re upset, but at least you still have him back and that’s the important thing. He loved you enough to want to get married the first time, so I’m sure once the shock wears off he’ll be right as rain.”

Hearing her talk so sincerely about the lies we’d concocted surrounding our marriage was enough to do me in and I just cried harder into his pillow thinking God could be a cruel bastard when he wanted to be by throwing it in my face at a time like this. After all, I was telling the biggest lie of omission at that very moment by not revealing my pregnancy, even to him.

“Sweetheart, now I know you’re upset, but crying over something that can’t be changed isn’t going to do you or Eric any good. Even if he never gets his memories back, he still loves you and you can make new memories together.”

My mind was screaming back that he doesn’t love me because he can’t remember me, but there was a little voice inside of me saying he did still love me with or without his memories. He’d crept into bed with me in the middle of the night (and I had a sneaking suspicion it had nothing to do with saving me from the bed sheet) and he still couldn’t stand to see me cry, so he wasn’t completely unaffected by me. I wanted his memories to return, if only so it would make it easier for me to tell him we were going to have a baby, but we could still make new memories in the meantime.

“You’re right Gran,” I sniffed. “I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

Wanting to change the subject before I could over think everything, or blurt out her pending membership into the great-grandmother’s club, I asked, “So how was your trip? I thought you wouldn’t be home for another couple of days or else I would’ve called you.”

“Oh it was fine, but the weather’s calling for severe thunderstorms for the next few days so we cut it short. At least I don’t have to worry about the house flying away now that it’s as good as new thanks to my grandson-in-law. Speaking of which, I guess he won’t remember that so you make sure to thank him again for me. And thank him for setting up the account at the furniture store in Monroe for me. There was a letter from his accountant waiting on me when I got home, but with everything you’ve told me, I don’t really feel right using it now.”

“Oh…he didn’t tell me he did that.” Since he didn’t remember Gran he couldn’t use his ‘Am I family or not’ guilt trip, but I didn’t feel right about her using that account now either. I still had some money in my savings account though and figured once Eric was a little more mobile I could get another job so I said, “Gran, if there’s something you need or want for the house, I’ll pay for it. You don’t have to use Eric’s account.”

“There’s not a single thing I need or want sweetheart. It’s just me in this old house and I get along fine with what I’ve got.”

I only half believed her. Gran would let the walls fall in around her before she asked for anything from anyone, but I remembered how worn her mattress was when we’d visited and I’d put fresh sheets on her bed, so I made a mental note to buy a new mattress set online for her and have it delivered without telling her beforehand. She couldn’t reach me with her wooden spoon all the way in California. A new refrigerator wouldn’t hurt either, but it would hurt my bank balance so I put it on my list of future purchases once I could get another job. After we said our goodbyes I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed and get started on cleaning the upper floor, so I lay there thinking about Eric until I eventually gave into the Sandman’s demands and drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, the room was washed in shades of gray and I wondered how long I’d slept seeing the sun was close to setting through my window. I could sense his presence behind me before I even registered his arm around my waist and smiled hearing my inner voice saying, ‘I told you so.’ Whatever had caused Prick-ric to come out and play must’ve been resolved, so I allowed myself to snuggle in closer to him and just enjoy being in This Eric’s arms before something else happened to ruin it all. As I lay there listening to him breathe, I remembered Gran’s words about making new memories together. I wanted My Eric back, but there were no guarantees that would ever happen and just because he’d lost his memories didn’t mean I didn’t still love him. I knew how much of an asshole he could be, but I also knew what he was really like deep down inside and knew without a doubt it would be worth the effort if I had to work my way back into his heart.

With that thought in mind I slowly inched my body, turning around so I could face him, and just watched him while he slept. It was something I’d spent two weeks doing, only instead of being filled with worry my heart was only filled with love seeing him so peaceful. The mask of doubt and skepticism were gone leaving behind the face I’d fallen in love with, had memorized every detail of at the age of ten, the only difference now was it was covered in whiskers. His jaw line was more chiseled and his cheekbones were more prominent with his boyish good looks having changed into the beautifully handsome man he’d become, but his lips were still the same.

Perfectly kissable.

His face got closer as mine inched forward until my lips were a hair’s breadth away from his, wanting to steal a kiss from man I loved before the man who couldn’t remember me awoke, but before our lips could touch his eyes fluttered open and my kissing bandit burglary was bungled. At least Wicked and Immoral couldn’t be charged with breaking and entering since they’d stalled on his waistband.

Sneaky bitches.

I was caught in a spotlight of blue staring back at me, completely frozen by his gaze and unable to move, wondering how I could explain away my lame attempt at kissing my husband before this virtual stranger woke up in his place, but I didn’t have to. Where I was an unmoving statue, his mobility was unaffected and I watched him move closer in slow motion, a second in time taking an eternity to pass, until his lips were finally on mine. Our kiss was hesitant, both familiar and brand new at the same time, and a small part of me wondered if this was a good idea, but when his tongue sought entrance at my lips I couldn’t deny him or myself. It was everything I’d longed for; everything I remembered it could be; everything he couldn’t remember it was and I lost myself to it hoping my memories would spill out of me and into him, forcing every moment we’d shared between us back into his mind with every thrust of my tongue.

His hands buried themselves in my hair, holding me in place, while Wicked clutched at his shirt from the front and Immoral snaked around to hold onto his back. I could feel the Kraken stirring down below and knew we had to stop before things went too far, but my brain and body were disconnected with my leg looping over his hip and my hoo-hah issuing him an invitation to join the party in my panties. Eric silently RSVP’d he’d love to cum by grinding against me and his hands left my hair to grab onto my hips as he rolled onto his back taking me with him. The hiss of pain from his lips that broke our kiss was enough to break the spell and I jumped off of him, landing at his side, asking, “Are you okay?”

His hands were still attached to my hips and he tried to pull me back on top of him saying, “No.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked with my eyes roaming all over his body. One part of him in particular was waving frantically, needing attention, but I was ignoring it. For now.

“You’re all the way over there,” he whined, tugging on my shorts.

“Well something hurt you when I was all the way over THERE, so what was it?” I asked while trying to pry his kung fu grip from my shorts.

“It was nothing,” he lied. When I glared my silent ‘bullshit’ call, he admitted, “It was just my ribs, but I’m fine.”

He tried to tug me back on top of him, but I refused saying, “No, it’s not fine. What if it punctures your lung or spleen?”

He grinned back at me saying, “I don’t need my spleen and there’s another part of me that wants to puncture you.”

It was a good thing I was wearing both panties and shorts, so they could contain the cumfetti that just flew out of party central while I said, “That’s not going to happen,” mentally adding ‘right now’.

“But…” his eyes became like a lost puppy as he continued, “I’m in pain.”

“Exactly!”

The puppy I’d been staring at changed into one of the hounds of hell as he leered, “I’m not talking about my ribs.”

His eyes darted over to the tent in his shorts letting me know where his pain was coming from and I snickered, “I’m pretty sure you won’t die from a case of blue balls.” It was an argument we’d already had; he just couldn’t remember it.

His hands left my hips to grasp onto his waistband and pulled them up as he peered down inside and gasped, “Are they blue? You should check, maybe warm them up with some friction.”

I let my head fall back down onto the pillow beside him laughing, “You’re such a perv!” while swallowing the drool in my mouth wondering if it would be cheating on My Eric if I gave This Eric a blowjob.

Definitely cheating.

Maybe.

Definitely cheating maybe.

“You’re a cruel woman…” he smiled.

“That’s me; the wicked bitch of the west,” I grinned back.

I watched his eyes mapping my face as we lay there silently until his hand came up and brushed a strand of hair behind my ears as he said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I asked. Both My Eric and This Eric were perverts. I enjoyed the consistency.

His thumb brushed across my cheek as he hesitated before admitting, “For making you cry.”

Confused, thinking he was talking about earlier over breakfast, I replied, “You already apologized for that. I know you like my ass. You’ve made it abundantly clear,” I added with my eyes darting towards his mast.

His eyebrows furrowed when he responded, “But I snapped at you earlier in my office and you cried yourself to sleep.”

Oh. “Oh. Well, I didn’t know what made you so pissy, but I got a little emotional when Gran called to check on you, that’s all.” Remembering everything we’d said I added, “I know we didn’t talk about it, but I kinda let it slip that you didn’t remember anything from the time we got married until now and she wanted me to thank you again for fixing up her house. It was really sweet of you even if you can’t remember it.”

“I saw the pictures on my phone,” he admitted.

I’d forgotten about those, but quickly set aside any weepy feelings and pressed on saying, “And, you big sneak, she said to thank you for the account you’d set up for her at the furniture store in Monroe. She got a letter in the mail from your accountant telling her about it, but she won’t be using it.”

“Why not?” he asked, adding, “And why am I a ‘big sneak’?”

“Because you didn’t tell me you did it and Gran doesn’t feel right using it now that you don’t remember her. Besides, she’s not the materialistic type. She’d rather just make do. You had to practically force us to let you do the house repairs.”

“Force you? How did I force you and why would I need to?”

“Because Gran’s not the type to take handouts and I wasn’t raised to either. You and your sneaky ways had already set up to have repairs done when you first got there, but then the storm hit and did some damage to the house so it really needed it then. When you told us what you’d done we tried to refuse, but you pulled the guilt card saying we were your family and family takes care of each other.”

Tears welled in my eyes remembering it all and he quickly brushed them away saying, “Then I’m glad I could help.” He paused again, still staring at me, before adding, “You should call her back and tell her that I still want her to use the account.”

“No Eric, it’s fine. She probably wouldn’t have used it anyway, unless you brow beat her into it, and the only thing she really needs is a new mattress. I’m going to order one online and have it delivered to her house.”

He just stared back at me blankly making me wish, once more, that I could read his mind. Eventually he said, “Well then, use your new credit card when you buy it.”

“What new credit card?” I asked. I had one credit card that I habitually paid off whenever I charged something, not wanting to get myself into debt.

“The one I ordered and is sitting on my desk?”

It sounded as though he was asking me whether or not it was true, but like I said, he was sneaky. “Eric Northman!” I huffed, sitting up. “Why did you order me a credit card?”

His expression mirrored the one I normally reserved for Jason as he blandly said, “I don’t remember.”

I tried to chew the grin off of my face realizing what a dumbass question I’d asked and said, “Yeah, well…you’re lucky you don’t remember or else I’d kick your ass right now. I’ll pay for Gran’s new mattress with my own money, but thanks anyway.”

“But I thought Pam said you quit your job.”

“I did, but I still have money in savings. I’ll get another job once you can move around better on your own.” Hopefully they’ll have onsite daycare.

“Don’t be stupid. Just use the card,” he huffed.

Oh. No. He. Didn’t.

“I don’t want your money Eric,” I gritted through my teeth.

“But I want you to use it Sookie,” he gritted back, pulling himself upright in the bed.

I wanted to push him back down, using his broken ribs as my handhold, and not because I wanted to get tangled in the sheets with him in a naked kind of way. “No. Thanks.” I crossed my arms in front of him to show him I was serious and to keep them from snapping anymore of his ribs.

“Why. Not?” He tried to cross his arms, but winced in pain and gave up quickly. It took extreme effort on my part to not stick out my tongue at him with an added ‘nanny-nanny-boo-boo’ while simultaneously wanting to fret over him like a mother hen.

Stupid hormones.

“We’ve already had this argument,” I informed him knowing damn well he couldn’t remember it, but feeling like a bitch anyway.

Eric matched me glare for glare (I really did love that he never backed down from my bitchface) and said, “You don’t say. And what, pray tell, did we decide when it was over?”

I wanted to lie and tell him that he’d agreed with me, but I couldn’t. “Actually…” I drew it out for a moment and lost some of my steam before admitting, “I don’t think we actually resolved anything.” He seemed shocked at my answer, and I was already tired of fighting with him so I smiled and quickly added, “You probably got distracted by my boobs.”

It appeared my boob peace offering worked when his eyes locked onto the Wonder Twins, which were on display thanks to my crossed arms, and he unsuccessfully fought off a smile of his own admitting, “They are distracting.”

Just wait until milk shoots out of them if you try to cop a feel.

“I don’t want to fight with you Eric,” I sighed.

His eyes finally met mine again with all of the anger gone from them as he said sweetly, “Good,” and then added, “So distract me. Take off your shirt,” waggling his eyebrows. His eyes got as big as dinner plates and his jaw hung open when I reached down and grabbed onto the hem of my t-shirt. He subconsciously licked his lips when I inched it higher up my waist and I laughed out loud at the disappointed look on his face after I’d whipped it over my head revealing the tank top I was wearing underneath. He shook his head at me repeating, “You’re a cruel woman.”

My libido agrees…

Eric stared at my tank top like he had x-ray vision and I fully expected him to try and talk me into taking it off, so I was surprised when he looked back at me saying, “Thank you.”

“For what, wearing two shirts?” Maybe the Wonder Twins had lost their powers.

“For being honest with me. You could’ve told me anything about when we argued before over money and I would’ve had no choice but to believe you.”

I shrugged, it being the fine line of truth and all, saying, “I’ll always answer your questions honestly Eric.”

So please don’t ask me if I’m pregnant.

Wondering if that street ran both ways, I asked, “Do you mind telling me what made you so upset earlier when you were in your office?”

When he shrugged my senses went on hyper alert and I scrutinized every word of his answer as he replied, “I…I just…I guess I just get frustrated not remembering everything.”

Me too…

I could tell he was uncomfortable and decided not to push the issue, so I changed the subject by saying, “Your new car got delivered earlier. I parked it in the garage.”

His eyes traveled down to the cast on his right leg as he knocked on it with his fist and said, “I guess I won’t be driving until this thing gets taken off.”

He seemed so forlorn over the idea of being dependent on anyone, so I smiled saying, “That’s okay. I’ll be your chauffeur. You can even sit in the backseat and I’ll wear a hat and call you Miss Daisy.”

It seemed to do the trick because Pervy Eric was back as his eyes leered back at mine when he said, “If that’s all you’ll be wearing then you have yourself a deal.”

More cumfetti leaked out letting me know the party was still going on, but I shifted slightly, silently telling them to keep it down before the cops got called, and meant to say, ‘Pfft…call Alcide then.’ What I actually said was, “The windows are tinted dark enough.”

What the fuck? Does Kum Bay Yah need to be playing in the background for my brain and mouth to hold hands?

They must’ve been humming Cum By Hoo-Hah instead.

My only warning was the low growl working its way out of Eric’s chest before his lips were suddenly on mine again, with his hands holding my head to his, and I could feel the beat of the music, making the walls shake, in the party down below.

I hoped the cops got there quick.