A Fighting Chance (11 page)

Yet another layer chipped away.

Kyle stands and places his hand on my shoulder. He gives it a squeeze and kisses my hair. I hear Amelia walking over to the bed.

“I made you a sandwich,” she says sniffling. “I’m just going to leave it here for you. I’ve told you this before. I don’t claim to know what you went through all those years. I only had a little taste of it. You saved my life. I owe you my world. I have a son because of you. You didn’t hesitate for one second when he held a gun to my head. You have nothing to be sorry for in taking his life. Do you hear me? Nothing. Believe me when I say, I know it upsets you. But if you hadn’t done what you did, he wouldn’t have wasted another second. He would have shot me in the head and killed me. Chloe, you’re my hero. And for that, I am eternally grateful to you and to Max. I need you to come back to me, to us. I love you, Chloe.”

I hear them both walk to the door and close it behind them. I turn around and look at that sandwich, and even if I had an appetite and wanted to eat it, I don’t think it would be possible with the huge lump in my throat. I sure as hell hope there aren’t any more Wellingtons lined up to talk to me. I don’t know how much more I can take.

I curl back in bed and stare at the sandwich glaring back at me. About thirty minutes of wrestling with myself about eating it or not eating it, the front door opens and Max comes back in. I dart my eyes away from the food and watch him move around in the kitchen as he makes his own sandwich. He really is nice to look at. He sits down at the table, facing me and never breaks eye contact as he eats. My mouth waters and damn it, I want to eat my sandwich, too. He finishes his sandwich, walks his plate to the sink, and then climbs into bed behind me. He wraps his arms securely around me and sighs.

“Are you going to eat it, or fucking stare at it all afternoon?” he asks.

Slowly his arm gets heavy on my waist and his breathing becomes heavy with a slight snore. Ever so gently, so I don’t disturb him, I grab the sandwich and take a bite. Oh my God. Food never tasted as good as this sandwich does right now. Max gives me a squeeze and I feel his smile on the back of my neck. Bastard.

It’s only mid-day and I’m not quite sure what Max has in store for me for the rest of the day. He still has me wrapped securely in his arms, and I’m not sure if it’s so he makes sure I don’t go anywhere, or if he’s afraid if he lets go of me he’ll crumble into a million pieces. Max’s demeanor has totally changed. The lines in his forehead and the pain in his eyes tell me this is more than just about me. He’s devastated by Samuel’s death. He’s an emotional train wreck, and sleep is just what he needs right now. Being in Max’s arms is safe, it’s always been safe. I close my eyes and let his steady breathing lull me into my own peaceful sleep. One that’s void of demons and voices.

I hear quiet garbled voices, and at first I start to panic that it’s
him,
but as I come fully awake, I recognize that it’s Max’s voice. But there’s also a woman’s voice. I don’t feel Max’s weight on me, and as I fully open my eyes and focus on Max sitting at the table with his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. Sitting across from him is my therapist, Fiona. Max’s eyes instantly find mine and he smiles.

“I’ll just be outside and leave you two ladies to talk,” he says, gets up and heads out the door.

If I didn’t think he was the sweetest man on earth for all the trouble he’s going through just for me, and if I wasn’t falling back in love with him again, I think I would kill him right now. Oh, who am I kidding? I never fell out of love with him. As much as I want to fight this, and still think that this is a waste of time on everyone’s part, I sigh and haul my ass out of bed and sit at the table with her. I take a drink of coffee from Max’s cup and damn, does that taste good, too.

Fiona and I have an hour long conversation, and I have to say I don’t remember quite why I stopped seeing her in the first place. But I can tell you it was a monumental mistake to stop. She has a way of getting in my head and pulling out the doubts and the voices that no one else can hear. She addresses each one and rationally tells me just why they are all wrong, and just what I should do with each one of them. She has a way of taking something so dark, and turning it around in a way that seems a little more manageable. She told me to take it one day at a time, to not worry about tomorrow. To look at the clock and just get myself to midnight, to not worry about what comes after that. Don’t borrow another days problems before they even happen. I can do that. I can deal with twenty-four hours at a time. Fiona leaves and I feel better about myself than I have in a long time.

Another layer chipped away.

Max

For the first time since this whole thing began, I think it actually might work. I think little by little she’s starting to see the bigger picture. She’s allowing the people who love her back in. And with any amount of luck she’ll let me back in, too.

Little does she know, but she’s only half way done with the people who I’ve lined up to talk to her. She also doesn’t know that every time I climb in bed with her, I drape my arms over her so she can feel the heavy weight of my arms on her and know that I won’t let anything get to her while she sleeps. Whatever it is that haunts her in her dreams has to get through me first. She always did sleep sound in my arms, and now is no different.

While her therapist is in the house with her, I need something to do with my hands. I have a small garage and a small shed on the property where I store all my tools and supplies. It’s been months since I’ve been in here. I unlock the padlock to the shed and swing open the two large wooden doors. Dust and dirt fly in the air as they bang into the side of the building. I’m hit with the smell of fresh cut pine, and I never realized just how much I’ve missed all of this. I enjoyed building this log cabin and all the furniture in it. I run my hand on the table saw with a smile. I grab a block of wood and some whittling tools and sit in an old chair in the corner of the shed. I don’t know what I intend on making, but my hands fly across the wood knowing just what they want me to make.

After an hour I stop and look at what I’ve made. It’s a heart. Covering the entire surface is intricate scroll work. There are sweeping arcs and deep curves. Like the heart, I too have deep marks, and I’m not perfect, by a long shot. But I know without a shadow of a doubt that I love Chloe.

I lock up the shed and head back to the house. I heard Fiona’s car leaving a few minutes ago. Chloe is sitting at the table lost in her own thoughts, good thoughts I hope.

Scrounging around through the cupboards and the refrigerator to see what Amelia brought, I throw together a quick dinner. Chloe is still sitting at the table with one leg pulled up on the seat with her arms wrapped tight around it. I place her plate in front of her bringing her out of her trance. She shocks the shit out of me and I’ll be damned, but she smiled at me. It was a small smile, but I’ll take it. Hopefully it will be the beginning of a lifetime of smiles.

We eat our food in silence. We both sit there not able to say anything. At this point, I don’t think words are needed. Just being here with her is all that’s needed right now. I dig the heart out of my pocket and slide it across the table. Her eyes light up and she yet again graces me with another small smile.

I clear our dishes away and clean up the kitchen. When I turn around, she’s laying in bed again, as close to the edge as she can get. She has the heart in her hand pressed to her chest. Ironic, that’s exactly where my heart is too, in her hands. She wants me to lay in bed with her. And I want nothing more than to lay in bed with her, too.

Even if after all of this, if all I accomplish is a few nights of peaceful sleep and to get her back seeing her therapist, then I call it a success. If she won’t have me back I accept that, at least I can give her back some sense of normalcy.

Cozying up behind her, I wrap my arm around her and kiss the back of her head. Tomorrow is another long day. Sleep my angel, sleep. I can promise you tonight, another night’s sleep free of demons.

The next morning I’m woken to the sound of relentless banging on the front door.

“You who. Anybody in there? I’m not too early am I?” the voice says as she continues to bang on the door.

Crawling out of bed, I open the door and like the hurricane she is, Savvy, walks in and plops a large duffle bag on the table.

“Wow, this is a nice place you have here,” she says looking around. “You build this yourself? I’ll bet ya a million bucks you did. Wait, no. I don’t have a million bucks, never mind. You did build it though, didn’t ya?”

“Yes, I did, I’ll be outside if you girls need me.”

“You got it, Max. Ur…uh…I mean Slick,” she says giggling.

Good Lord, I can’t get out of the house fast enough.

Chapter 9

Chloe

“Damn woman, it’s so good to see you. I brought you some clothes. I stopped over at your place before I came up here. Good gravy it’s a long ass drive up here,” she says smacking that ever loving gum in between her teeth.

I’ve never been happier to see a bag of clothes before in my life.

“Please tell me you brought a toothbrush and toothpaste,” I say taking a hopeful look at the bag.

“Sure I did, sugar. Ava helped me pack it for you! Nice girl that Ava. Man she’s a ton worried about you though. Oh my God, you will never believe what happened to me! I got a phone call from my college of choice telling me I was selected to receive a full ride scholarship to nursing school. Can you believe that shit? Me! That kind of luck never happens to me. I tell you what, I think I broke that man’s eardrums on the other end of the line, I screamed so damn loud.”

I couldn’t help myself, I laughed. I threw my hand over my mouth to try and stop it, but I laughed for the first time in I don’t even know how long. Once I started laughing, I couldn’t stop, and it felt so good. Poor Savvy stood there with a hurt expression on her face. I laughed so hard I had tears running down my cheeks. The way she was so flamboyant waving her arms in the air, and the goofy grin on her face while she talked, broke through my walls and I couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how hard I tried. She is so excited, and to know that I played a part in it just made me so happy, I laughed.

“Now sweet cheeks, I didn’t think that was funny in the least bit,” she says with a pouty face.

“Savvy, I’m so sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear. I’m truly happy for you, and I’m also so incredibly proud of you, too, for taking this giant step in making your dreams come true.”

“You’re sure you weren’t laughing at me? Because it sure seemed like you were laughing at me,” she says sincerely.

“Not at all. Sit down. What else has been going on with you? How’s the rebuild on the bar going?”

“It’s going great! It should be finished in no time at all. I’m still going to work there part time too while I’m in school. Gary is being way cool about the whole thing. I thought for sure he would flip out when I told him I only wanted to come back part-time,” she says.

“You know, when you start school, if you need any help at all or someone to help you study, I’d be glad to help.”

“Really? Are you sure it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience?” she asks excited.

“No, not at all. I’d love to help you, truly it would be my pleasure,” I tell her and suddenly I can see myself doing just that. Funny, this is the first time I can picture myself doing something in the future.

“You want to know something silly?” she asks slightly embarrassed. “I went to a store in the mall that sells scrubs and I stood there in the middle of the store and just smiled for about twenty minutes. I think the sales lady thought I was crazy. Then I grabbed about twenty different scrubs and tried them on. I can’t wait to open my closet one day and think, which one will I wear today. I took selfies of each of them. You want to see?” she asks. She digs in her large purse that’s more like carry-on luggage for her cell phone, and shows me all the pictures of her wearing scrubs. The smile on her face wearing those scrubs is more than I’ll ever need to know that I did that. Yep, I did a good thing.

Yet another layer chipped away.

Savvy and I sat and talked for hours. Max never once came in the house and disturbed us. Besides talking about school, we talked about nothing of importance, and it was one of the best conversations I’ve had in a long time. Savvy may not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but what she has to offer is way more important than anything you can learn in a book. She never tried to dig in my brain or try to fix me. That’s what Fiona’s for. She unknowingly, just by sitting here smacking that stupid ass gum in her teeth, as she talked animatedly about every day normal stuff, helped me in a way I don’t think I can ever repay her for.

“Shoot, love, I’ve got to get going. It was so nice talking to you today. I’ll see you soon, OK?” she says. She launches herself out of her chair and practically bowls me over in my seat as she hugs me. But the thing is, I hugged her back just as hard.

As soon as Savvy left, Max immediately came back in. He eyed me up and down, then went in the kitchen and started to make lunch. He set a sandwich in front of me and we both ate in silence. He glanced up at me a few times, and I caught the slight pull of a smile as he watched me chew my food. Bastard.

Just as Max clears the table, there’s another knock at the door. It’s Fiona again. Max builds a fire in the fireplace, then walks over to me, kisses me on the head, then again makes himself scarce as we talk. By the end of the session, I’m left with a calm empowering feeling that gives me hope and strength that I haven’t felt in months.

Fiona left, and like the other times before, Max comes back in almost immediately. He puts new logs in the fireplace, then walks in the kitchen and starts to make dinner. One of Fiona’s suggestions was to write down my feelings as I was feeling them. She left me a notebook and a pen, and as Max makes dinner, I start to write. Suddenly it was like the pen in my hand had a mind of its own, and the words that make their way down on the paper leave me completely drained. I had no idea I was even capable of putting the thoughts swirling around in my head into words. Seeing them on paper is so different than listening to them in my head. In my head, they seem so large and unmanageable, but seeing them on a piece of paper they seem…manageable.