CHAPTER 6
"Adrian, are you sure I can't drop you off at your place?"
"What if you need help with something, Sharona?"
"Then I'll ask Benjy."
"But I'm the one who's responsible for this. Just let me help you, okay? It's the least I can do."
"Adrian-"
"Mom!" Benjy yelled just as she was about to protest yet again. His mother and Mr. Monk had been bickering like this since they got in the car, and he couldn't take it anymore. "Just bring him home with us. What's the big deal?"
"Watch your tone, Benjy," Sharona cautioned, though she did have to agree with him. Their argument really was pointless.
"Sorry," the child apologized.
The three rode in somewhat awkward silence for the next several minutes.
"So, um, how's school, Benjy?" Adrian asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
"It's fine. I'm doing better in math."
"Much better. Tell Mr. Monk how well you did on your last test," his mother urged, beaming with pride.
"Mom," Benjy moaned. "You're embarrassing me."
"What? Why are you embarrassed? You should proud of yourself. Go ahead. Tell him."
Her demand was met with silence. "All right. Then, I'll tell him. He got a B-."
"That's great, Benjy," Adrian congratulated him. "You're a smart kid."
The boy smiled. "Thanks."
For the remainder of the drive home, Benjy sat quietly while his mom gushed to Mr. Monk about her son's countless academic achievements.
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"Where the heck is he?" Sharona muttered, drying her hands on a towel.
As if on cue, the front door opened, and in walked the man in question.
"There you are. What took you so long?"
"I was, um, cleaning off the back window," Adrian replied honestly, coming into the kitchen and setting a cooler and his canvas sack onto the counter.
Sharona looked skeptical. "For fifteen minutes?"
"It was pretty dirty," he explained. "So were all the other windows."
"Were you worried about him, Mom?" Benjy queried, a mysterious glint in his eye.
For some inexplicable reason, the question made Sharona uncomfortable. The appropriate response eluding her, she blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Well, yeah, Benjy, I have to worry about him. That's what he pays me for."
As soon as she said it, the blonde wished she could recant the words. She saw the hurt look on Adrian's face when he stopped unloading the cooler to look up at her, making her feel even more guilty. I really need to learn when to shut up, the nurse scolded herself.Sharona started to apologize when the phone rang.
"I'll get it," Benjy offered, shutting the cabinet. He could sense the tension in the room and wished he had kept the question to himself.
Benjy spoke with the caller for all of five seconds before hanging up. "Um, Mom? That was Drew. Mrs. Cunningham will be here in five minutes."
"Why? What for?"
"Well, I'm sleeping over at Drew's house. Remember I asked you on Monday if I could spend the night there, and you said it was okay?"
"Vaguely."
"I did. I swear. So, can I go? Please?" he asked hopefully.
"Yeah, sure. Sure," Sharona agreed. "Are you all packed?"
"Uh-huh. I did it this morning."
"All right. Hurry up and get your stuff together."
"Okay. Thanks, Mom!" the boy responded as he headed into his room.
Sharona turned back to Adrian, but the detective was no longer standing next to her. She instead found him on the living room couch, elbows resting on his knees, holding his head in his hands. He resembled a disobedient child pouting in time-out. "Um, Adrian? Can I talk to you?" she asked gently, lowering herself onto the soft cushion beside him. Monk slowly sat up and nodded, keeping his eyes down. "Adrian, I want to-"
But before she could say another word, Benjy hollered "good-bye" and then slammed the door.
Sharona cleared her throat and started again. "Adrian, I want to apologize for what I said. I am really sorry. I made it sound like you're a burden to me, but you're not, okay? And I don't ever want you to think otherwise . . . all right?"
Adrian slowly brought his face to hers. The tears in his eyes that had previously expressed sadness now expressed tremendous relief, for he was no longer reconsidering professing his feelings. He responded with a small smile, which his friend eagerly returned.
"So, you forgive me?"
"I forgive you," he replied, his grin widening.
Sharona patted his knee. "Good. So, um, what should we do now?"
"I don't know," he shrugged.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
"Okay."
"What do you wanna see?"
Another shrug. "Anything."
The blonde knelt down in front of the television set, opening the cabinet below it. Rummaging around for her copy of A League of Their Own, she popped the tape into the VCR, and pressed a number of buttons before rejoining him on the couch.
Adrian tried his best to enjoy the movie, but he couldn't forget how scared he had been just moments before. Her answer to Benjy's question had crushed him. After all, how could he tell her that he was in love with her if she thought of him as a burden? But her sincere and instant apology had made his fear quickly subside.
A short ways into the film, the detective looked over at his friend to find her fast asleep, her head resting against the back of the couch. She did not look very comfortable.
Sliding closer to her, Adrian gingerly brought her head to his chest then wrapped his arm around her, placing his hand on Sharona's shoulder.
It did not take long, however, for his hand to start traveling. He moved the slightly quivering appendage down her shoulder and past her shirt, until he was touching her bare skin. Then he gently closed his fingers around her arm. Monk hoped she wouldn't mind, but he could not resist seizing this perfect opportunity to touch her.
With his free hand, the detective brushed a few stray hairs from her face. Leaning down slightly, he gently pressed his lips to her forehead, hoping she would not mind this, either. But, again, it was just too hard to resist.
Smiling, Adrian closed his eyes and rested his head on top of hers. Soon, he, too, was fast asleep.
Some twenty minutes later, the front door opened again, and Benjy entered. He had forgotten his Spiderman trading cards, and Mrs. Cunningham had begrudgingly driven him all the way home. She and Drew were now waiting in the car downstairs.
Benjy took a few steps into the apartment and then stopped at the sight before him, a broad grin spreading onto his face.
Suddenly getting an idea, he took off for his room and returned two minutes later with the instant camera that had taken him nearly six months to save up for.
He moved in front of the TV and quickly snapped a photo of the pair. Placing the picture onto the coffee table, he went back to his room to dig out his binder of cards from beneath the bed.
When the boy returned, the image was completely developed. "They're gonna love this!" he whispered aloud, setting it back on the table before making his exit.
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Sharona awoke to find herself in bed. She was neatly tucked in, with the covers pulled just above her waist. Yawning and stretching, she sat up and glanced at her alarm clock. 10:30 P.M. "I really dozed off," she commented as she pushed the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Seeing as the apartment was dark, she figured that Adrian had gone home. Either that or he had decided to sleep on the couch, which was highly unlikely. Switching on a light in the living room confirmed her friend's departure.
As the groggy blonde turned to go back into her bedroom, something on the coffee table caught her eye - the photograph. Picking it up, she inspected it closely.
Who took this? Sharona wondered. Had to be Benjy. Probably did it as a joke. He must've forgotten something and came home and saw us like this.
Further examination brought a number of questions to mind. Why were she and Adrian "like this"? Why hadn't Monk simply propped her legs up on the couch and put a pillow behind her head? Why was he . . . hugging her? Holding her?
Her attention was next drawn to the hand that he had clasped around her arm. Why hadn't he just rested his hand on her shoulder, on top of her shirt? Why was his skin touching hers?
Sharona continued to stare at the picture intently, trying to come up with answers to her inquiries.
Because he wanted to touch me, she finally realized, the corners of her lips tugging into a smile. The thought sent an oddly pleasing chill up her spine. But this time, she neither tried, nor wanted, to find an explanation for this feeling. She simply wanted to enjoy it.
Flipping off the light, Sharona returned to her room and crawled into bed.
"Night, Adrian," she whispered as she set the picture down on the nightstand.
But then she changed her mind, slipping the photo underneath her pillow instead.
