Why Can't I Be Loved

I honestly don't know how long I stood there before snapping out of it. I knew my job wasn't done. I had to call his ex and let her know what happened. That's when I realized how badly I'd screwed up. Stan's phone was still in his pants pocket. I rushed into his apartment and looked for an address book but found nothing. It was rounding up to one AM, but I had no choice. It was obvious that I woke her.

"Carter," she mumbled, "what the hell, it's... it's almost two o'clock. What's wrong?" Muncie, Indiana was an hour ahead of Chicago.

"Serena, I'm terribly sorry to wake you but it's your Dad, he's had a heart attack."

"What!" she screamed. She was now fully awake. "Is he... is he..." she couldn't bring herself to ask but I cut her off anyway.

"He's going to be okay. He's on his way to the hospital. Serena, I need to call your mother but I don't have her number."

"Oh, yeah, of course."

After giving me the number, she said she was going to get dressed and drive up. In as stern a voice as I could muster, I told her to stay there until she heard from her mother. I didn't want Serena driving up from Indiana in a panic, especially at that time of night when the roads would be slick. She promised she'd wait.

I called Ms. Mancini and gave her the bad news. I also told her what I said to Serena about staying put until she heard from her. She thanked me and said she'd meet me at the hospital. That's when I realized the keys to Stan's car were also in his pocket.

I threw my coat on, made sure the restaurant was locked up, then started for the hospital on foot. It was mid-February in Chicago. The air was cold and damp and I could see my breath every time I exhaled. I turned my collar up to the icy wind coming off the lake, stuck my hands in my pockets for warmth, and quickened my pace. It was a good three or four miles to the hospital, but all I could think of was Stan. I prayed with every step I took.

I saw Ms. Mancini in the emergency waiting room when I walked in. She was looking at the floor and wiping her eyes with a tissue. "How's he doing?" I asked as I sat in the next seat.

"I don't know yet. They took him into surgery to insert a stent. That's all I know so far." She looked at me a little closer. "Your face is all red. Did you walk here?"

"Yeah, I figured I'd make it here faster on foot than waiting for a cab at this time of night."

"Why didn't you take Stan's car?"

"I didn't think to get the keys out of his pocket before they took him," I explained.

"Oh, you poor kid; it's freezing out there."

"To tell you the truth, my mind was on Stan and I didn't even feel the cold that much."

Just then her phone rang. She took it from her purse and looked at the screen. "It's Serena," she said, "it's the third time she's called. I'll talk to her from the lobby, I'll be back in a few minutes."

She wasn't gone too long, ten minutes at the most. "How's she doing?" I asked.

"Not good. She still wants to make the drive up here but I convinced her to wait until we know more. I know stents are considered minor surgery. I'm hoping that means it wasn't a major heart attack and he'll be good as new in no time."

Based on what I saw, I wasn't as confident, of course, I didn't tell her that. I got us a cup of what the hospital called coffee from a machine, and we sat and waited pretty much in silence.

After more than an hour, we heard the nurse call for Ms. Mancini. After a brief conversation, she came back and said we could wait for the doctor in a small consultation room. It was another twenty minutes before he showed up.

"Ms. Mancini, your husband had a severe heart attack. Three of the four main arteries to the heart have a lot of blockages. We did an emergency angioplasty to temporarily alleviate some of the stress on his heart. We inserted a small tube into the main artery from the groin. With that in place, we're able to introduce a balloon that we inflate to push the plaque back and open the artery. Right now, he's too weak to survive open-heart surgery. We're going to keep him here for a few days until he's stronger, then we'll be doing a triple by-pass."

I knew Ms. Mancini was hoping for a better prognosis. She had been nervously twisting a hanky in knots while listening. "Is he going to be okay? What are his chances?"

"Very good," the doc responded. "He's young, he's strong, and I saw nothing in his history to indicate any complications." You could see at least some of the stress leave her face. That's when the tall, distinguished looking doctor turned to me. "Are you the young man who was with him when he had the attack?"

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"You probably saved his life; you should think about training to become a first responder."

Ms. Mancini quickly turned her head toward me. "What did you do?"

"I... I just..." I guess the doctor decided he could explain better than I could.

"One of the guys who wheeled your husband into the ER said he was giving your husband CPR and wouldn't stop until they were ready to take over. Your husband was very lucky to have him there. If he'd been alone, I don't think we'd be having this conversation.

"Right now, we're getting your husband set up in a room upstairs, Ms. Mancini. The anesthetic we gave him was just a local, so you'll be able to go up and see him briefly, but don't stay too long. He's going to need all the rest he can get."

She agreed we wouldn't stay long. It was only a few minutes later when they gave us the room number and said we could go up. Ms. Mancini grabbed my arm for support and let out a quiet gasp as we reached the doorway. Stan was as white as the sheet that covered him and had tubes running from each arm to bottles hanging from stands and machines that flashed and beeped. The bandage over his left eye covered half his forehead. It was downright scary.

His eyes were closed when we walked in. For a minute, we both thought he was asleep, but he must have heard us because he turned his head, opened his eyes, and gave us a big smile. "Hi, guys," he said with an even broader smile.

Ms. Mancini hurried over to him and carefully leaned down and kissed him on the lips. "Don't you ever do this to me again, Stanely Mancini; you scared me half to death."

He chuckled, "Sorry, my dear, I'll try to remember to never do it again. Did you talk to the doctor?"

"Yeah, just before we came up."

"Then you know it's not over yet."

"Yeah, we know, but he said there was no reason why you shouldn't be good as new."

He looked over at me. "Carter, I'm glad you're here"

"He saved your life," Ms. Mancini said, cutting him off.

He looked at his ex then back at me. "Wh... what did you do?"

"Several years ago, at the home, they taught us how to do CPR. It was the only thing I could think of," I told him.

"The doctor said he wouldn't stop until the emergency guys took over."

Stan looked back at me again. "It sounds like I owe you my life, Carter."

"Just get better," I replied.

"I will, thanks to you," he responded. "Listen, I think I'm going to be laid up for a while and I'm going to need someone I can trust to run the restaurant."

I thought he was asking for my opinion. "Ah, well Jerry's been there the longest."

"No, no, I want you to run it until I get back on my feet," he said.

"Me?" I questioned. "Stan, if this is because of what I did, I appreciate it, but..."

"No, I'll have to find some other way to thank you for that. No, as I said, I need someone I can trust, that's you."

"Stan, I don't know the first thing about running a restaurant. How about Ms. Mancini, I'm sure she'd do a much better job than I would."

"She has a job of her own," he replied. "Look, everything you'll need is in the filing cabinets in my apartment. I have order forms, inventory lists, all the vendors, past receipts, the whole ball of wax. Brian Wilcox is my accountant. There's a whole folder in there with all his information. He can help you with the payroll."

I was panicking. "Stan, there must be someone else you can trust and who will do a much better job than me. I've never done anything like this before."

Just then we all heard Ms. Mancini's phone ring from her purse. "Three guesses who that is," she joked. She grabbed her phone and handed it to Stan. "It's for you," she said. Of course, we could only hear Stan's side of the conversation.

"Hi, baby... I'm fine thanks to Carter... Yeah, they tell me he saved my life... Yeah... Well, I'm going to be resting up for a few days, then I have to have some surgery... Open heart... Yeah, I guess I have some blockage in three arteries... Honey, you don't have to do that; I'd rather you concentrate on school... All right, I... "

Stan stopped talking for a second and looked over at me as if a lightbulb went on in his head. "Hey, sweetheart, since you insist on coming up here anyway, do you think you could show Carter how to run the restaurant? Outside of you, he's the only other person I trust. I'm going to be laid up for quite a while and you can't spend too much time out of school, but if you could show him the ropes, that would be a big help... Great, thanks, honey... Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then... Drive careful... Love ya, bye."

"That's settled then," he said while giving the phone back to his ex and looking at me. "Serena knows as much about running the restaurant as I do. She's coming up later today. Take my phone with you tonight and call all the employees before they leave for work and let them know what happened. Give 'em all the day off with pay.

"Serena will be down and go over everything with you. She's going to spend the night in my apartment, help you open the place tomorrow and let everyone know what's happening."

"Honey, do you mind if he uses your car while you're laid up?" Ms. Mancini asked.

"No, of course not. You might need it to pick up supplies, as well," he told me.

That's when an elderly lady in a white uniform came in to kick us out, saying Stan needed his rest. I grabbed Stan's car keys and phone from his pants before leaving. It was four in the morning by the time Ms. Mancini dropped me off at the restaurant before going home. I should have been tired, but I wasn't. I was still on an adrenaline high and my mind was spinning like a windmill in a hurricane; needless to say, I didn't get any sleep.

At six o'clock, I started calling the employees. I told them about Stan and that they had the day off with pay. Of course, everyone was concerned. I told them all I'd call again the following day and let them know what was going on. I checked with the hospital and they said, because he needed to rest, visitation was restricted to the immediate family for the time being. I understood and figured Ms. Mancini would let me know if anything happened.

I showered, went downstairs, and put a sign in the window saying we were closed because of a family emergency, then walked down the street to a Denny's for breakfast. When I returned, I started going through the paperwork Stan told me about. It didn't take long before I was completely lost. Everything looked complicated as far as I was concerned. I couldn't see any way that I was going to be able to run the restaurant. I finally gave up trying to make sense of anything and went up to my room. I laid down and turned the TV on to try and take my mind off of things. It must have worked because evidently, I dozed off. I woke up to someone knocking on the wall.

"Carter, are you up here?"

My heart started to pound at the melodic sound of her voice. "Yeah."

"I hope you're decent because I'm coming up."

I was just standing up when she came charging into my room and threw her arms around my neck, knocking us both back onto my bed. The next thing I knew, Serena had her lips pressed against mine and was searching for my tonsils with her tongue. When she pulled away, she started giving me quicker kisses all over my face.

"Talk about sweeping a girl off her feet," she finally said, "saving the life of her dad goes right to the top of the list."

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I rolled her over so I was the one on top and returned her kiss. Before our lips broke apart, I could feel her hands pulling on the back of my shirt. Within seconds it was laying on the floor. Thanks to Cathy, I knew what to do. I stood up and offered her my hand. She looked a little perplexed but took it and let me guide her to her feet. I moved behind her and kissed her neck as I reached round and started to unbutton her blouse. She was starting to moan and leaned her head back, giving me more access to her slim neck.

She was already breathing heavily by the time I had her undressed. I gently helped her back down to the bed and lowered my head to her neatly trimmed pussy. I went all out and did everything Cathy taught me. I had Serena screaming in amatory bliss. She was very vocal and I always knew the moment she was coming. After he forth climax, I quickly stripped and maneuvered myself into position to enter her. I think we were both in heaven as I slipped in. I took it slow at first, like I was taught. When I knew the time was right, I increased my speed and the length of my thrusts.

Serena kept coming and coming. I wanted to go on forever but I couldn't hold it back anymore and we both came with an explosion that I thought must have surely shaken the foundation.

As we lay there still gasping for breath, I thought about how much easier it was to have sex in Cathy's queen size bed instead of my twin. I had to chuckle to myself.

"What?"

"Nothing, I was just wondering how I could get a bigger bed in here," I replied. That made Serena chuckle.

"It was kind of challenging, wasn't it? Are you hungry?"

With everything going on, I hadn't even thought of food until she mentioned it. "Come to think of it, I am. I had breakfast early this morning, but that was it. There's a Denny's a couple blocks down."

"Denny's," she almost shouted as she propped up on her elbow and looked me in the face. "You live in a restaurant and you want to go to Denny's?"

"I don't know how to use all that equipment down there. I can make sandwiches, that's about it."

"All right, lover," she said, jumping out of bed, "get dressed. Your education starts right now. Was anything done with the day's take from yesterday?"

"Ah, no, not unless your dad took care of it before the attack."

"I doubt that," she said. "I'll check when we go downstairs." It only took her a few minutes to count the money in the register, then she counted up the credit card receipts and filled out a couple of bank slips before putting everything in a zippered canvas bag. "Follow me," she said. We went into Stan's apartment where she had me watch while she dialed the combination and locked it all up in a safe. "Okay, let's get something to eat."

Jesus, she knew that kitchen almost as well as her old man. In no time, we were sitting down to a chicken dinner fit for a king and queen. "How do you know all this? Your dad says you can run this place as well as he can, and I believe him. When did you learn to do this?"

"Years ago, Mom used to travel a lot for work. It's really why they're divorced. He wanted her to quit her job, but she wouldn't do it. I think Dad had the impression she had a boyfriend on the side. I don't know if she did or not; I don't think Dad ever knew for sure either, but it just added fuel to the fire.

"Anyway, I spent my summers here when Mom was on the road. Dad taught me just about everything there is to know. I think he always hoped I'd take it over someday when he retired."

"Will you?"

"No, I'm going to be a teacher. That's why I go all the way to Ball State in Indiana. It's one of the best teacher's colleges in the country."

"So what happens when your dad retires? What happens to Plato's Place?"

"I don't know," she replied a little sadly. "I guess he'll sell it. That won't be for a while, though. If I know my dad, he won't retire until he's too old to get out of bed." I think we were both hoping that would be a long time coming.

When Serena mentioned the paperwork her dad told me about, I admitted to looking at it earlier but not being able to make heads or tails of it. She said she was confident that once she explained everything to me, I'd have no problems. At least one of us was confident.

We quickly cleaned up the kitchen, then it was time for my first lesson. Having Serena sitting next to me made it hard to concentrate, but she had a great way of explaining things. I was starting to catch on. At times we'd walk out to the kitchen and she'd show me what food products correlated with what invoices and inventory sheets. We'd been at it for hours, and I could tell Serena was getting tired. I was too so we decided to call it a night. I gave her a kiss and started to leave.

"Where're you going?"

"I was going to my room," I replied.

"After this afternoon you want to go sleep by yourself?" I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was angry.

"No, but I... I don't think it's right for us to sleep together in your dad's bed. It... it just seems disrespectful to me."

"Carter, I told you I used to spend summers here. Where do you think I slept... with my dad? Evidently, you've never had a tour of the apartment. Come with me," she said.

We walked past her dad's bedroom and past the bathroom, which was as far as I ever got when I was there with Stan. I had no idea there was another bedroom beyond that point. Serena flicked the light on. "This is my room, complete with queen size bed and shower. Now, still want to go upstairs?"

I have to admit, reading some of those sappy romance novels paid off. She gave out a little half scream, half laugh when I picked her up in my arms. She hugged me around the neck as I walked over, put one knee down on the mattress for support, and lowered her onto the bed. She had what they describe in those books as the look of love as she pulled me into a kiss.

We made love until two in the morning. I actually made it to a third orgasm and I have no idea how many Serena had but it was quite a few more than three. As we lay in each other's arms, drifting off into dreamland, I had to smile. I finally knew what love was, both given and received.

We were up early the following morning. She was going to stick around long enough to help me explain things to everyone and get things rolling, then she'd take off for the hospital.

Much to my surprise, we actually managed to stay open until Serena returned a little after four in the afternoon. The first thing she did was check the register and credit card receipts, then she walked over and talked to Andy, the night cook, for a few minutes. I took a little break so I could ask her how Stan was doing.

"He's doing great. He's a lot stronger today, already, and his color is coming back. They've scheduled him for surgery the day after tomorrow."

"How's your mom doing?"

"Remarkably well, but then she's always been a strong woman. I suspect inside she's a mess, but she'll never show it."

"And you, how are you doing?"

"Taking it an hour at a time," she replied. "It means a lot to have you here with me. Mom spends the night in Dad's room. They have a bench that folds out into a bed, so without you, I'd be alone at night." She reached up and gave me a quick kiss, followed by a big smile from both of us. "Listen, let's go where we can talk. Dad doesn't want to let anyone go so we've worked out a plan. Hopefully, you'll be okay with it."

We went back into Stan's apartment where Serena explained the problem; the place needed two cooks. I could attest to that from watching Jerry struggle, trying to keep up with the lunch crowd. She said they had discussed cutting the hours, but that would mean he'd have to let some people go and Stan didn't want to do that.