Keith

by Dale Mayer

  Maybe that’s why the relationships she’d heard about here were doing so well because they got rid of the outside layers that were often something you couldn’t trust, or that weren’t even so much about trust but because people weren’t necessarily who they really were on the outside. Whereas, in a place like this, who a person really was, was evident every day. The good, the bad, and the ugly. She had yet to see much of the ugly in Keith’s case. But she also understood that it was there and that he was working on it. You couldn’t ask anybody for more than that.

  Well, Keith had done it. He hadn’t really expected to ask her, but it had come out naturally. And casually. Almost like his lunch date was just a request between two friends. He knew it was more. He wanted it to be much more. Something was so special about her, yet it was really hard for him to acknowledge that she would want him. And he knew everybody else would just get plain angry over that. He understood, but it didn’t change anything, because really, so much was going on in his world that it was hard to segregate one from the other. Also sad but a fact of life.

  Still, he had his morning to get through and more therapy to attend and then his shrink visit, which he absolutely detested. And he knew that they weren’t supposed to call them shrink visits, but it was almost like, by insulting the profession, it made it easier to deal with the fact that he had to see her. By the time he was done with his morning physical therapy sessions, he was exhausted already. He managed a shower and then slowly rolled himself toward the psychologist’s office. As he entered, she looked at him and smiled.

  “Looking a little tired today.”

  “I’m tired every day,” he said. “They don’t let you slack down there.”

  “Do you resent that?”

  He groaned. “Why does every question have to have more questions?”

  “Fine,” she said, “what do you want to talk about?”

  He just glared at her.

  She smiled and said, “Okay, so how is it to have your sister around?”

  “It’s nice,” he admitted, happy with a question he could at least answer. “I haven’t had a whole lot of time to be with her in the last ten years. So this is a really nice opportunity to get to know her again.”

  “And are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Getting to know her better.”

  “I just said so,” he said. He watched the smile at the corner of the doctor’s lips. “Yes, I’m enjoying getting to know her better.”

  “Good,” she said. “She must have a different perspective on the healing here because she comes from working with animals.”

  “I’m sure she’d say the animals are a whole lot easier than the humans. She doesn’t have to tell them to stretch. They do it instinctively. She doesn’t have to tell them to rest and to sleep. That’s generally what they do. And she doesn’t have to sit there and explain everything ten times over to make sure the animals understand what’s happening. They don’t understand, and she can’t explain it to them. The only thing she can do is give them comfort.”

  “You like that system?”

  “I like it better than people who just talk and talk and talk, with their suppositions and theories, their proposals and possibilities,” he said. “I would much rather have people just be quiet, show me the work I have to do, and let me get at it.”

  “Again, very interesting.”

  He groaned. “Not really,” he said. “It’s quite simple. I just want to be here for the time I need to be here and then move on.”

  “And not make any friends in the meantime?”

  “I’ve made friends,” he said.

  “I’ve heard,” she said.

  He frowned at her. “Heard what?”

  “That you’ve been making some friends,” she said.

  He just shrugged and didn’t say anything. No way would he bring up his relationship with Ilse.

  “Are you making more than one or just sticking to the one?”

  “I haven’t really spent too much time getting to know very many.”

  “Because it’s not worth your effort?”

  “No,” he said. “But it takes time, energy, and effort on their part too.”

  “Meaning that it’s not worth your time,” she reiterated.

  “Meaning,” he stressed, “that there’s X amount of time, effort, and energy, and it’s all going into my healing.”

  She leaned back at that, nodded, and said, “That’s a good answer.”

  “Record it then,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  She studied his body position, and he knew that he would get nailed for the aggressiveness burning inside him.

  “So, what is it that you didn’t want to talk about?”

  “Well, if I wanted to not talk about it, I’m obviously not bringing it up, am I?”

  “Tell me about your family.”

  He stiffened. “Not a whole lot to tell,” he said coolly. “My mother died early. My father found a new family, and him and I didn’t get along.”

  “That’s often the way of it after a death,” she said.

  “Well, he certainly didn’t wait too long, and he was of no help at all after my mother passed away,” he said. “He was drunk, barhopping and sleeping around as much as anybody could possibly manage to fit into those nights,” he said in a hard voice. “He threw me out of the house at sixteen. I haven’t been back, haven’t looked back, and have no interest in talking to him.”

  He winced at that because he had been wondering if it was something he needed to do, but apparently he was still hanging on to a lot of anger and aggression over it all.

  “Sometimes people grow up, and they forgive others,” she said. “Other times, people grow up, and they want nothing to do with those people because they don’t have the time, the energy, and the effort to put into it,” she said, repeating his words. “Your job right now is to look after you.”

  Surprised that she had echoed his earlier concerns, he nodded quietly.

  “However, if you feel like you need to open that door down the road,” she said, “pick a time when you’re a little more emotionally secure because restarting a relationship like that can be very traumatic.”

  “Which is why I don’t feel like I need to do it now for sure,” he said.

  “Understandable,” she said, “and also a little more difficult because your sister is here.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “I haven’t talked to her about it.”

  “She might help you navigate through some of it, either for or against a conversation with your father.”

  “She doesn’t have a whole lot of interest in reopening that relationship either,” he said. “We were both devastated by the way he handled his life back then.”

  “Has he reached out to you recently?”

  Regretfully, he nodded.

  “Any particular catalyst in his world to bring that on at this particular time?”

  “Yes,” he said. “He’s getting divorced, realizing that he lost his first family and is now likely to lose his second.”

  “That’ll make a man rethink his current state of affairs,” she said.

  “He didn’t have to do what he did,” he said. “He sent us away, cut us out of his life, and made it obvious that we didn’t count.”

  “That’s where some of your bitterness and sense of needing to achieve becoming someone is stemming from,” she said, with a nod of her head.

  He shrugged. “It’s every man’s dream to grow up and to become a better man than their father. In my case, I didn’t have to grow up and try very hard for that. My father wasn’t much of a father.”

  “You’re blessed to have a sister you love and who loves you.”

  At that, he smiled. “Yeah, somehow she turned out to be a beautiful person.”

  “She does appear to have a good heart,” the doc said.

  “Yes, and, even though I keep closing doors in her face, and I’m much less of a brother for her than I sho
uld be, she keeps sticking by me,” he said, and he could hear the note of curiosity in his voice, almost his disbelief as to why she bothered trying.

  “Just because your father didn’t seem to want you,” she said, “it doesn’t mean the rest of the world doesn’t want you.”

  “Usually it does,” he said. “Too often, people are all about following the same patterns.”

  “Isn’t it more or less the patterns that you set, as you send out that energy of awareness that says, ‘Hey, I’m good enough,’ or ‘I don’t like people. Stay away.’ Am I right?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “When I was in active service, I was busy all the time. I had friends. I had a purpose in life. Since the injury, well …” He turned to look out the window because, since the accident, his only purpose was to get back on his feet. He needed to think further than that now.

  For the first time he held out just that little bit of hope that maybe he would get back on his feet. And then what? If that goal was definitely achievable, then he needed to have a goal beyond it. No point in having a goal to get back on his feet if he didn’t know how he would live and survive past it.

  “What about skills to take into the workforce?”

  “Not sure I have too many,” he said. “Granted, I have all kinds of skills, but they’re not exactly the kind that transfer easily to the private sector.”

  “Security?”

  He shrugged. “That’s possible.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I was really good at cybersecurity,” he said. “Now, in a perfect world, I’d have a job helping banks work on their cybersecurity.”

  “Why just banks?” she asked. “In this day and age, anybody who’s got a heads-up on keeping corporate clients safe could have a full-time job with a business of their own.”

  He looked interested for a moment and then shrugged. “It takes capital to start up something like that. I don’t have any background in business, and it’s not like I’ll have any investors give me a year’s wages so I can go do that. Beyond that, I don’t have any idea who I would even begin to contact for prospective clients, much less convince them that I could do anything to help them out.”

  She laughed. “I’m pretty sure there was a movie about that many years back. Some thief broke into a bank, just to prove to them that they needed his skills to stop people like him.”

  “Well, that would be a good way to get me thrown in jail,” he said. “So it’s not exactly an optimum way to function or to break into the business.”

  “No,” she said, “obviously it isn’t. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll see. Right now, I just have to look after me.”

  “Oh, I agree,” she said. With that, she looked at her watch and said, “Now that wasn’t too painful, was it?”

  He looked up at the clock behind her head. “Is our session over?”

  “Almost,” she said. “How are you sleeping these days?”

  “I’m sleeping okay. I just wake up early every morning.”

  “I love early mornings,” she said. “It makes my day a lot nicer if I get a few minutes to myself before the world wakes up.”

  He thought about that and nodded. “Yes, I can agree with that.”

  After scheduling his next session, he wheeled his way out her office and down to his room.

  He thought about his time with the doctor. Something seemed better about the talk with her today. It didn’t feel like prying; it wasn’t getting under his skin, and it actually seemed helpful. Maybe because she was on his side, and he was looking to justify his position about not contacting his father. It was hard to know what the right answer was, but what he didn’t want to do was get pinned into feeling like he had to. He didn’t want to feel guilty about everything in life, and too often that was how these relationships made him feel.

  As he sat on his bed, waiting for lunch to meet Ilse, his sister called. “Hey, sis. How you doing?”

  “I’m okay,” she said, “but I was calling to check on you.”

  “I’m doing okay,” he said.

  “Did you hear from Dad?” Her tone was abrupt, almost hard.

  “Yeah, I did,” he said. “Why?”

  “Because he’s hassling me because you didn’t answer him.”

  “Ignore him,” he said. “I’ll answer him if and when I feel like it. In the meantime, I don’t feel like it.”

  She gave a broken laugh. “That’s you all the time.”

  “You need to get out of the middle of this,” he said gently. “There’s no need for it.”

  “I know,” she replied, “but I don’t know how to avoid it.”

  “Tell him to talk to me directly and to stop putting you in the middle,” he said. “We aren’t children anymore, and we’ll do what we want.”

  “I hear you,” she said. “Maybe that’s the best answer, after all.”

  “It is.”

  “I’m going into town later today. Is there anything you need?”

  “Oh,” he said, “I hadn’t thought about it. This place really does take care of most everything.”

  “I know,” she said, “but I could get you a book or some magazines or whatever you want.”

  “I think I’m okay,” he said. “I’ll think about it though. Maybe I’ll be ready for you next time.”

  “Good enough,” she said.

  After he hung up, he laid back down again and wondered if he wanted anything from town. He wondered why she was going and then realized it was probably all about Iain. He quickly sent her a text. Feel free to bring Iain back. I’d love to meet him.

  A happy face emoji was the response he got. Then she texted him back. Someday.

  He wasn’t sure why not today, but everybody seemed to have plans of their own. Unfortunately, even when he made plans, they didn’t always work out, as, by the time he recovered from his morning physio, lunch was over.

  Chapter 10

  Several days later Ilse was outside, talking to one of the delivery guys about the temperature of the milk he’d just delivered. It wasn’t as cold as it should have been. She happened to glance around and saw Keith walking across the parking lot, using his crutches. She stopped and stared, amazed to see him as mobile as he was, and she was drawn to the intent expression on his face.

  “So, is that everything then?” the delivery driver asked impatiently.

  She nodded. “For the moment.” She signed the bottom of the paperwork, handed it off, then turned and walked across to where Keith was heading. “Hey, it’s great to see you up and walking so fast,” she called out.

  He looked back at her and smiled. “I just wanted a bit of fresh air, and, while I was out here, I just started to feel right,” he said, with a half shrug. “And, when so much of the world feels wrong, I decided to just follow my instincts and walk a bit.”

  “You were moving really fast,” she said. “It’s really great to see.”

  He smiled and nodded. “It feels really good too.”

  She looked down at her watch and asked, “Did you get lunch?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “I was waiting for the crowd to die down.”

  “Right,” she said, glancing back at the crates that had been just unloaded and were now being moved inside.

  “Delivery day?” he asked.

  “It seems like every day is delivery day,” she said, “but today was dairy, yes.”

  “Ah, the all-important milk,” he said.

  “If you were drinking the milk, like you’re supposed to be for your bones,” she said, “you’d understand.”

  “Most milk doesn’t get along with my stomach,” he said. “Sorry.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me,” she said, “as long as you’re healthy and eating properly.”

  “Well, I’m certainly eating,” he said. “The properly part I don’t know about. You guys sure put out a ton of food every day though.”

  “We try,�
�� she said. “Is there any particular dish that you’re missing?”

  He looked at her in surprise. “Fish and chips,” he said instantly.

  She stared at him and chuckled at his quick response. “Well, I’m glad I asked then,” she said. “That’s easy enough to do.”

  “Is it? For this many people?”

  “Well, we’ll do what we can, and, if we run out, plenty of other food is there,” she said comfortably.

  He nodded. “So, when can we have it?” he asked, as he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Give me at least two days,” she said, laughing. “I have to check on my whitefish supply.”

  “I would think you probably keep that stocked pretty heavily,” he said. “Seems like there’s fish or seafood of some kind most every day.”

  “There is,” she said, “but I mix it up. And the best fish for fried fish isn’t the same kind I use for steamed or baked.”

  “You’re the chef,” he said. “I have no idea.”

  Just then he took a step, and it must have twisted his back wrong. He froze and gasped at the pain, which bleached the color from his face. She wanted to reach out and help him but instinctively knew that would be the wrong reaction. “Just take a few minutes to breathe,” she said, her tone calm and controlled. “Everything will be better in a minute.”

  He groaned. “Who told you that lie?”

  She chuckled. “Sometimes we just move too quickly in the wrong direction, and then we pay for it.”

  “Which is exactly what I just did,” he said. Using his crutches, he moved over a few steps closer to the building. “I’ll just sit here for a minute.” He put the crutches to the side and slowly lowered himself to the top of the waist-high stone wall.

  She came over and sat beside him. “It’s nice enough out to just sit here anyway,” she said, turning her face up to the sun.

  “I should have brought something to drink with me,” he said.

  “Tell me what you want,” she said. “I’ll go into the kitchen and get it.”

  He stared at her in surprise, looked at the big open doors to the side, and nodded. “I wasn’t even thinking, but it makes sense that you’d have delivery trucks come in right by the kitchen area.”