Double Dippin': Misty Part 12

"And you succeeded. I went back, but I swear I don't want to go back again. Being here is so peaceful."

"Life is not about having a smooth journey where everything goes your way. It's about meeting challenges and overcoming obstacles. You got a second chance to do better, so get over yourself, Misty. The world doesn't revolve around you. Help people-not for monetary gain, but for the pure joy of sharing the love that shines within."

"I can do that here," Misty said. "I can help another misguided soul the way you've helped me. I can't be an invalid again, Shane. Even though I got my looks back, it's horrible not being able to walk or even move my legs."

"You can't stay here; you have to finish your soul's journey in the physical realm. And always remember that you have the ability to heal and ease the pain of others."

"Agh!" Misty emitted painful, strangled sounds. Her gums, jaws, her entire mouth hurt unbearably.

"I know you're in pain, and I'm going to write a prescription for something that will make you feel better," the oral surgeon said.

Whimpering, Misty nodded. In addition to the pain, she felt lightheaded and disoriented as though she had one foot in two different worlds. There was a deep sense of loss as she glimpsed a fading, indistinguishable shadow from the corner of her eye. She had the vague memory of a dream she'd had about Shane, but couldn't recall what she'd actually dreamt.

During the limo ride home that was the courtesy of Gavin Stallings, Misty's nurse asked the driver to stop at a pharmacy so she could get Misty's prescription filled. While Audrey was inside the pharmacy, Misty felt an annoying, tingling sensation rippling through her hands. It was similar to the sensation that people refer to as a hand or a foot falling asleep, but more severe, like a thousand pins p.r.i.c.king her palms and the top of her hands.

She rubbed her left hand with her right and watched in astonishment as the contracted hand straightened out. With widened eyes, she examined the fingers of her left hand, balled and unballed the fist that she'd previously been unable to move.

It was a miracle! Her left hand was cured.

By the time Audrey returned to the limo, Misty's right hand and both arms were fully functional. Bewildered but also curious to see what other body part she could heal, Misty ran a palm along her jawline, instantly eliminating the pain in her gums. Next, she placed her hands beneath her denim skirt and gently stroked the flesh of each damaged thigh. She gasped as she felt her lower limbs becoming revitalized. Checking to see if she'd been able to repair her legs, Misty stretched them out and then bent them at the knee.

I'll be d.a.m.ned; it feels like I could walk if I tried.

The driver opened the door for Audrey when she returned. She slid into the backseat, holding up a bottle of water. "I bought this in case you need to take a pain pill right away," Audrey said with compa.s.sion in her eyes.

"Thanks, but I can wait," Misty answered.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

Audrey watched Misty curiously throughout the ride to Misty's apartment. When the limo glided into the parking lot, Misty sat in the back, in a state of awe as the driver and her nurse fiddled around in the back of the limo, retrieving her wheelchair. The driver swiftly lifted Misty and lowered her into the chair and Audrey fussed with Misty's clothing, making sure that her skirt and top were perfectly adjusted.

"Do you want to take your pill and lie down?" Audrey asked once they were inside the apartment.

Unwilling to endure the process of being transported from the chair to her bed, Misty shook her head. "No, I'm going to sit in the living room and watch TV. You can have the rest of the day off."

"But..."

"Turn the TV on and then you can leave. I'll be fine until the second shift nurse arrives."

Audrey retrieved the remote that was stuck between cushions on the new couch and clicked on the TV. "What do you want to see, Maury? Wendy Williams? A movie?"

"It doesn't matter."

Audrey surfed through channels, finally settling on Judge Judy.

Misty watched the TV screen, pretending to be engrossed.

"Is there anything else I can do for you? I don't feel comfortable leaving you all alone."

"I'll be fine." Get out, Ms. Peabody; I need time alone!

Audrey slung the strap of her large tote bag over her shoulder. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." Shifting from foot to foot, she gave Misty a questioning look.

"Bye, Audrey," Misty said dismissively, keeping her eyes glued to the screen. She released a sigh when Audrey finally opened the front door. The moment the nurse left, Misty grasped her phone. With a straight and steady finger, she pressed a b.u.t.ton, calling the home health care agency and then cancelled her afternoon nurse. Then she gripped the handles of the chair and slowly lifted herself up. Standing on shaky legs, arms flailing, she attempted to balance herself, like a toddler struggling to take its first steps. She took three wobbly steps and then drifted backward and collapsed into the wheelchair, panting and gasping. Learning to walk again was exhausting work.

Determined, Misty gauged the distance from the wheelchair to the kitchen. She blew out a sigh, and then took staggering steps toward the kitchen. When she reached it, her shoulders sagged in disappointment. Fatigued, she needed to sit down and rest for a moment, but there were no chairs, only stools and she'd be d.a.m.ned if she was going to try climbing up a tall stool. Chest heaving up and down in exhaustion, she leaned against the fridge until she caught her breath. Minutes later, she made the trek from the kitchen to the bathroom, where she regarded her image in the mirror and smiled.

She had no idea how she was managing to walk again, and could only conclude that it was another ability that had something to do with coming out of a coma. She'd completely forgotten the visitation she'd had with Shane while under anesthesia. Had no recollection that she'd promised to use her abilities for the good of others without expecting compensation.

Finally, she toddled to the bedroom, where she flopped down on the bed and took a well-deserved nap.

CHAPTER 18.

After work on pay day, Brick and the fellas congregated at their preferred spot to eat and then hopped in their cars and headed over to their favorite strip club. They were all grimy with layers of dust and specks of concrete clinging to their work coveralls, but it didn't matter, not with their pockets filled with crisp one dollar bills provided by the bank when they'd cashed their pay checks.

Going to the strip club was a way for Brick to unwind as he threw back beers while enjoying the delectable sights. A couple of his buddies, however, had it bad. A dude named Lance would lap dance away every cent of his pay, and his work buddy, Doug was dangerously in love with one of the dancers, a big-busted girl with hypnotic eyes and succulent lips. Her name was Mo-Monee, and that name alone should have warned Doug to steer clear of her, but he always sat in his car after the club closed, waiting to drive Mo-Monee home. By Monday, both Doug and Lance had to borrow money to buy their lunch and pay for petroleum to get around in their gas-guzzling, big cars with V8 engines.

Ordinarily, Brick would have been rushing home to make sure Misty was straight, especially a day like today when she'd gone through the ordeal of oral surgery, but he knew she'd be okay. Misty had that rich guy, Gavin, wrapped around her finger, and he was not only paying for expensive medical procedures, he was providing Misty with nurses who didn't mind pitching in and doing a little cooking and cleaning. Brick wasn't sure if they were paid extra or if Misty was manipulating them the same way she manipulated everyone else.

Although Misty was back to looking like her old self-even better-Brick wasn't feeling her at all. All she talked about was building an empire and putting together some type of nonreligious mega church. The s.h.i.t she talked gave him a headache. He'd been listening to Misty's schemes since they were in third grade, and frankly, he was sick of it. He didn't share her desires for money and power.

On some real s.h.i.t, it was only a matter of time before he rolled out, but he needed to be sure that she was being cared for adequately. Needed to know he wouldn't have to worry about her after he left.

He bought the first round of beers for him and his boys and sat back in his seat, ready to enjoy the t.i.ts and a.s.s show. The MC announced a dancer who went by the name, Island Girl. She pranced onto the stage while Caribbean music blasted from the speakers. Accompanying her set was a backdrop of sand, seash.e.l.ls, and tropical foliage beneath clear blue skies, and when she started swaying her hips, Brick had an instant feeling of dej vu.

Island Girl didn't have a long weave like the other dancers; she wore her hair in a short and sa.s.sy style. The way she moved her hips in time with the music was a sensual sight, giving the impression that she was actually f.u.c.king. Something about her reminded him of Anya, and he suddenly remembered the dream of Anya dancing in the moonlight. He recalled the way he'd c.u.m all over himself and felt a bout of shame, but one glance at Island Girl and his mind filled with l.u.s.t while his d.i.c.k grew unbearably hard.

Brick was usually a mere observer, but Island Girl turned him on, prompting him to get out of his seat and walk up to the stage, where he made it rain with fifty one-dollar bills.

His buddies, unaccustomed to Brick spending money on anything but beer, clapped his back and cheered him on when he returned to his seat. When Island Girl's set was over, Brick wasn't the least bit surprised when she strutted in his direction.

He welcomed her onto his lap, enjoying the feel of her soft body, the scent of her perfume. He stuck a five in her bosom and took the liberty of squeezing her t.i.tties and stroking her nipples. Island Girl let out a soft moan, and moved one of his hands down to her crotch. Feeling her c.l.i.t pressing against the soft fabric between her legs, Brick stroked the nub with the pad of his finger, while his lips found their way to her neck. But in his mind, it wasn't Island Girl who was rubbing her b.u.t.t against his crotch. All he could think about was Anya and her sweet deliciousness.

He drove home slow as a snail, careful not to swerve or show any signs of being intoxicated. He hoped that when he got home, Misty would be sound asleep and not waiting up to show off her new dental work. Now that her physical appearance was up to her standards, she was going to start her new clairvoyant practice, and the dude, Gavin, was going to loan her the money to get started, and Brick wasn't opposed to the idea. As soon as Misty was financially stable, Brick would have a clear conscience about telling her goodbye.

The lights in the apartment were dim when Brick arrived home. He could hear the sound of water running in the bathroom. Had the health care worker left water running in the bathtub when she left earlier in the evening? He rushed down the hall, expecting to see water flooding out the bathroom. But he encountered a sight far more bizarre, a sight that staggered him.

Misty was in the bathtub, covered from the neck down in soapy bubbles. Her hair was piled on top of her head, with tendrils cascading to her shoulders and sticking to her soapy skin. She sent a glorious smile his way. Her smile revealed teeth that were even and pearly white. She looked more radiant and beautiful than ever before. And what was even more amazing was the fact that she was moving her arms with ease as she bathed herself. With a look of triumph in her eyes, she leisurely stretched out an arm and soaped it up with a bath sponge. And while Brick gawked at her, she sensually propped up a leg on the ledge of the tub.

He blinked a few times before managing to speak. "Misty," he said in a choked voice that was filled with awe. What the f.u.c.k was going on? He realized he was slightly drunk and everything, but how the h.e.l.l did a holographic version of Misty get in the tub? Eyes bulging and his heart pounding, Brick's head swiveled in the direction of the bedroom, irrationally expecting to see the real Misty, unmoving, lying in bed. When he saw that their bed was empty, his head jerked toward the tub. Mouth gaping, he made sounds but was unable to form an articulate sentence.

He cleared his throat and finally said, "What the f.u.c.k is going on? How are you moving your arms and legs and s.h.i.t?"

"I'm healed, Brick. I'm not paralyzed anymore." She slid her leg back into the bath water and then drew her knees up to her chest.

"I don't understand."

"I healed myself, Brick. No doctor operated on my spine. No one in the medical profession could help me; you know that. I told you something wonderful happened to me while I was in a coma. I told you I had gained psychic abilities, but you refused to believe. Are you a believer, now?"

Brick nodded mechanically, while his mind raced with questions.

"Would you hand me a towel, Brick? I'm ready to get out."

Misty rose out of the water and stood. Brick turned his head away, giving her privacy.

"Don't be afraid to look at me, Brick. I'm back, baby. This is the real me. I'm not crippled or sickly anymore. And I want to make love to you. I want to show you how I feel."

With his eyes aimed toward the floor, Brick gave Misty a towel. "I don't know about all that, Misty. It's too soon. You need to talk to your doctor; find out if it's all right."

"f.u.c.k my doctor! He didn't do s.h.i.t for me, so why do I need his permission?"

Brick rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"Help me out of the tub, baby. I'm still a little unsteady on my feet."

He reached out a hand. "This is crazy; feels like I'm in the twilight zone."

"I don't understand it any more than you do, and I'm not trying to figure it out. My hands started tingling in a weird way and I touched my left hand and it straightened out."

"But that's some sci-fi s.h.i.t; it doesn't happen in real life."

"I'm living proof that it does." She stopped drying her shoulders, and handed Brick the towel. "Help me dry off, and then let's get in the bed."

Ever since she'd gotten hurt, whenever Brick attended to Misty's care needs, it was in a clinical way, and never, ever did he perceive her in a s.e.xual way. "I can't do that, Misty."

"Why not?"

"I gotta take a shower, to get this dirt off of me."

"f.u.c.k that. Do you think I care about a little bit of dirt after being dead below my waist for so long? All that time you were with my mom, I dreamed about this day. I want to feel you inside me. I really need you right now."

Brick shook his head. "Something's not right about this, and I can tell you in advance, my d.i.c.k is not gonna get hard."

Misty's mouth fell open. "What are you saying?" She made a scoffing sound. "I'm all fixed up, better than before, so don't tell me you're repulsed by me."

"No, it's not that."

"Then, what is it?"

"When I left for work this morning, you were paralyzed. Now you're standing up and moving around, and I can't wrap my head around any of this."

Misty s.n.a.t.c.hed the towel from Brick's hands, and wrapped it around her body, cinching it above her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Can you carry me to the bedroom? I'm starting to feel a little weak."

Brick swooped her up into his arms and as he took strides down the hallway, Misty began kissing and licking his neck. "Can you imagine how tight my coochie probably is?" she whispered in his ear, trying to arouse him.

He placed her on the bed gently, eyes averted, unwilling to take a good look at her. "Do you want me to get a nightgown or something for you to put on?" he asked, his eyes darting in the direction of the bureau drawer that contained her nightwear and her panties and bras.

"I like sleeping nude. How could you forget that?"

Brick sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, holding his head, in despair.

"Why don't you want me, Brick?" she asked, rubbing his back and caressing his shoulders.

"It's too soon," he mumbled, studying his dusty boots.

"But I need you, Brick; it's been so long."

He sighed again, realizing that Misty wasn't going to let up until she got what she wanted. To be able to please her, he started thinking about the stripper, Island Girl, and then he thought about the dream he'd had about Anya. When his d.i.c.k jerked to life, he stood up and began slowly peeling off his work clothes and underwear.

CHAPTER 19.

Soon after Brick left for work, Audrey arrived, using her key. With her knitting bag in hand, she was looking forward to a routine day of getting Misty groomed and fed and then watching hours of TV, along with intermittent naps throughout her work day.

But Misty had other plans for the nurse. "I'm in the kitchen, Audrey," Misty called out cheerfully.

"What are you doing in the kitchen?" Audrey asked as she closed the front door, rushing toward the sound of Misty's voice. Even though Misty didn't sound like she was in distress, the sight of her empty wheelchair in the living room filled Audrey with dread, and she imagined her patient sprawled out on the kitchen floor, badly injured.

Finding Misty sitting on a high stool, leisurely drinking tea, Audrey dropped her knitting bag, the metal needles spilling out and clattering onto the floor. "How in the world-"

"Don't freak out, Ms. Peabody," Misty said sternly, accidentally using the offensive nickname she'd given Audrey. "I've already had to deal with Brick's shock, and I need you to get a grip and listen to me carefully."

Audrey frowned in bewilderment as she nodded her head. "Are you okay? You called me Ms. Peabody...do you know who I am?" Audrey asked with a worry line etched in her forehead.

"Of course I know who you are. Ms. Peabody is my pet name for you. Anyway, what you're witnessing is a miracle. I have healing power in my hands. I don't know how or why this happened to me but I know there's a reason. I'm thinking about starting a business venture, but I'm going to need my benefactor, Gavin Stallings, to help me with it."

"What kind of business venture?"

"I don't want to talk about it; don't want to jinx my project. Anyway, I need to look my best when I approach Gavin for a loan. He's very much into art and beauty, you know, and I think he'll be more inclined to help me if I looked more polished and up-to-date. This junk my mom picked out for me while I was paralyzed needs to be dumped in the trash." Misty looked down at her no-brand jeans and scowled. "You and I are going to get in your car and drive straight to the mall, and I'm going to finally put some of my donation money to good use."