by Monica James
I blink, getting more pissed off by the minute. “As I said, thank you for the friendly tip,” I quip, “but I’m a big girl. I’m also a good judge of character.” I don’t conceal the fact that my original thought of him being an asshole was completely correct. “Your son-in-law is also Angus’s father, and from what I can see, he’s doing a damn good job at being a single parent.”
Henry’s face pales, then reddens to a blistering rage. The jibe had a lot more bite than I intended, but it’s exactly how I feel. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired and want to go to bed. Good night.” I don’t give him time to respond as I shut the door in his face.
The nerve of some people.
I’m left in a bad mood thanks to Henry’s assholeness, so when I flick on my bedroom light, and a bright pink box sitting in the center of my bed catches my eye, I thank the heavens for my best friend.
Tucking my weary feet underneath me as I sit at the foot of the bed, I drag the box toward me. Reaching for the card, I can’t help but smile at the picture of two elderly ladies in prison stripes, sipping coffee. On the bottom, it says, “Friends for life.”
When I open it up, my smile grows even bigger.
Dearest Tori,
This gift is non-refundable, so don’t even think about returning it.
I’m so proud of you. Here’s to new beginnings!
C x
The mystery as to where Charley’s Fiat is has been solved—it’s in my palm. Not literally, but the car key is an indicator that it’ll be in the driveway come tomorrow.
Reaching for the cell off my dresser, I shoot her a quick text.
You are the best xx
Charley makes life so much better. She makes me feel normal…well, almost.
I stand and hunt through my dresser, pulling out my pajamas. Just as I shut the drawer, I hear a faint whisper catch on the warm breeze. I turn my ear to the open window, quite certain I heard that titter float in from that direction. I wait, my breathless anticipation filling the still room.
Just as I believe I’m hearing things, the sound hums once again. The contents of my stomach drop, and I suddenly feel hot. I act before I can think and dash across my floorboards to switch off the light. The room is shrouded in instant darkness, making what I intend to do all the more devious. I creep through my room, keeping to the shadows, using that whisper as my beacon of light. I stop, quite certain I’m cloaked, and hold my breath as I allow myself to peek across my yard.
I see Jude standing at the end of my dock. He gave me a warm hug goodbye hours ago, so why is he still here?
He’s standing with his back to me, so I can’t see his face. But his downturned shoulders hint that something is wrong.
Why do I feel like I’ve just swallowed lead?
Wiping my sweaty palms onto my dress, I know I have two options: I can either ignore him, or I can go to his aid. Sighing, I know there wasn’t really a choice.
I stride through my home, silently closing the back door and walking down the steps. The porch light, the same light Jude fixed for me, suddenly flicks off. Great, this makes the mood even bleaker.
My bare feet whistle through the long blades of grass as I make my way toward Jude. I know he can hear me, but he doesn’t turn around. He looks so lost, broken, and I don’t know why. Could it be seeing Henry brought back memories of all that he’s lost? It makes sense.
“If you knew something that would change someone’s life forever, would you tell them?” It’s a poignant question. I have an inkling we’re not talking in the rhetorical sense.
Stopping just before the dock’s edge, I take a minute to reply. “Yes, I think that I would.”
Jude’s sigh is heavy. He places his hands into his jeans pockets. “You’re brave and honorable, Victoria.”
And there’s that word again. Brave. I don’t feel brave. Each day, I seem to lose sight of what courage looks like. “Since the incident, seconds seem to morph into minutes, hours, days, weeks.” I leave a long pause between each word, wanting to give recognition to all the time lost. “I don’t know what reality is, and what a dream is anymore. I feel neither here nor there. I’m in limbo.”
Jude lowers his head. The sight is moving.
“Everyone wants to help me, but most days, I just want to be left alone. My parents thought Matilda moving in would help me get over what I’m dealing with, but it didn’t. Nothing has helped. Each day is the same as the next.” Clutching at my chest, I confess, “There is no light at the end of my tunnel. I feel like I’m losing it. Like I’m losing my mind.”
My words are the fire under Jude as he spins around, shaking his head furiously. “Don’t say that. Never give up hope.”
“It’s hard not to when all hope is gone. I feel so lost. Alone.”
The pause before he speaks betrays Jude’s fear of expressing his thoughts. “You’ve got me.”
The space between us fills with tenderness. “You’re the only thing keeping me anchored. Each day, I forget who I used to be. I feel like I’m slipping away, and if I blink, I’ll be gone.” My lower lip trembles, but I refuse to cry.
The night is dark—pitch black, in fact. The stars stay hidden behind the lingering storm clouds, but regardless of the darkness, I can see the shine in Jude’s eyes. His heavy footsteps sound along the weathered dock as he walks toward me. A coil within draws me closer and closer, needing to touch him, feel him near. He is the only thing that has made me feel alive. The revelation is a heady sensation. Maybe I’m not dead inside. Maybe there is hope for me after all.
There is always a look of surprise on Jude’s face when we touch. Two fingertips caress my cheek as he reaches out softly, akin to the flutter of butterfly wings. “Maybe we can ground one another?” His reply is cloaked with so much emotion, and I find it hard to breathe. Leaning into his touch, I close my eyes.
The reason I feel so unguarded around Jude is because he understands. Don’t ask me how I know, but I just know he understands what it’s like to hit rock bottom. He knows how hard it is to try to climb your way back up because you refuse to be beaten. Refuse to give up because the fight, the fire in you drives you to never back down. To never stop believing that you…are…worth…it.
Rose was an idiot for leaving behind such an extraordinary man.
“I think that’s the only way I’ll survive.”
Jude runs his thumb down the center of my lips. “Storms don’t last forever.” He always knows what to say.
My voice is a mere whisper. It’s also a voice laced with…hope. “But when they do…I’ll just adjust my sails.”
His reply has tears stinging my eyes. “I never doubted anything less.”
Three Weeks Later
It’s Friday afternoon, and to celebrate my first week of teaching, I’ve decided to treat myself to dinner in town tonight.
I thought I’d lost my passion for it, but the moment I stepped into the classroom, it was like I returned home. The kids are great and so well behaved, it’s like they’re not even in the room.
This town is slowly becoming my home, and I can see myself being here for a while. I still wake up every night screaming, but now I settle as soon as I realize where I am. I also get a sense of peace from the hushed voices which catch on the cool breeze and drift across the lake and into my open window. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.
A fact which upsets me more than I care to admit is that after the night of the housewarming, Jude has kept himself scarce. I know he has his own life to lead, but I’ve come to rely on him, and I’m woman enough to admit that I miss him.
As I pull into the driveway, I see Angus is standing on my dock with a remote control in hand. I park the car and reach for the bag of groceries on the passenger seat. I watch him closely, not wanting to sneak up on him, seeing as he’s so close to the dock’s edge. The moment I step onto the wooden rafters, he spins around. He’s so in tune with his surroundings, but I suppose he has to be. What we take for granted, he would embrace wit
h both hands.
“Hi, Angus.” I hold up my free hand.
He smirks, his lopsided grin so much like Jude’s. Now that I know he’s Jude’s son, I can definitely see the resemblance. Expressive blue eyes, tousled brown hair, and a gentle, kind soul. He waves happily, holding up his remote.
“What you got there?” I ask, walking closer.
When I’m standing close enough, I chuckle. “Are you the captain?” I query, looking at his little blue sailor hat.
He nods, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he turns back around to steer his mechanical sailboat. The light wind pushes it along, the white sails catching in the breeze. The momentum has the red boat sailing across the water effortlessly.
Angus cheers in delight, turning to me and pointing at his toy.
His energy and love for life have me questioning how anyone could leave him behind. I have no doubt Jude is a good dad, but his choice in spouse is a mystery to me. Our circumstances are so similar yet so different. We both don’t know where our partners are, or what they’re doing, but the difference is I don’t care. I have a feeling Jude is also grieving. I wonder what stage he’s at.
A little finger poking into my side makes me look down and smile. Angus holds out the remote, gesturing it’s my turn. Unable to turn down such an offer, I accept his request. The buttons taunt me with their cleverness, and I move my lips from side to side.
Angus must be able to read my prehistoric take on technology because he smirks. He raises his hands and hurriedly signs, but I have no idea what he just said. He reads my confusion and reaches for the control, teaching me how it works.
Just as I’m about to take over, Angus tugs on my arm. As I look down, my heart fills with adoration—a feeling I haven’t experienced in a long time. His little fingers are extended upward, offering me his sailor hat.
I spend the next twenty minutes, hat happily perched on my head, steering the boat across the lake. Being around Angus brings me a sense of peace, but I don’t know why. I remember Jude’s words to me. “I’m drawn to you.” At the time, I didn’t fully understand what he meant, but now, I feel exactly the same way about his son.
Angus’s excited shrill has me turning to see what the commotion is all about. When I see Jäg sauntering toward us, not at all afraid, I can’t help but smile.
Angus runs toward Jäg, who sits and licks himself, relishing in the attention. As I watch on, I can’t help but think about Jude. Slipping the phone from my back pocket, I scroll through my contacts until I land on J. I could send him a friendly text, and say what? I miss you? Where have you been?
All thoughts of being poetic are put on hold when Angus yelps and laughs. It appears Jäg has worked his magic on him, too. Lost in the moment, Angus begins to sign to the cat. He smiles, a dimple expressing how contented he is.
An idea strikes and I quickly search my phone for a quick tutorial on sign language. After a few attempts, I finally decode what Angus is saying. It’s simple and straightforward, but it whets my appetite for more.
Cat.
He is signing the word cat.
This extraordinary boy is my teacher, and I’m his pupil, wanting to learn. Wishing to express to Angus how much his friendship means to me, I sign my first and most important word. When he watches me with nothing but interest, I interlock my index fingers twice.
Just when I think I’ve misunderstood what I’ve read, he runs over to me, stopping a few feet away. This moment is filled with purity, the enchantment of something as simple as language—something as simple as friends, the word I just signed.
Friends.
Angus bites his pouty bottom lip before linking his index fingers together and pulling twice. I don’t know what that means, and I’m about to google it but am thrown off guard when he wraps his arms around my waist and holds on tight. I simply stand and store this moment into my memory bank as I gently run my fingers through his soft hair.
The moment only lasts for a few seconds, but it’s enough to touch something inside me I thought I’d lost. Angus has shown me that we won’t live in the dark forever.
Before I can say another word, Angus lets go and is waving goodbye.
Remembering what he signed, I search my phone once again. Once I find the meaning, I can’t help but smile.
Good friends.
Angus has corrected me. We’re not just friends, we’re good friends…and for that, I’m glad.
I can’t help but smile at Angus’s sailor hat sitting on my passenger seat. I completely forgot to give it back to him, which I interpret as the universe’s way of telling me that I’m supposed to see Jude. I’m suddenly hungry for life. I’m hungry to start anew. But right now, I’m hungry for Outback Steakhouse.
As I’m hacking into my steak, for some unknown reason, I gaze to the left and am greeted with a sight which has me almost inhaling my dinner. A person who I’m almost certain is Jude, steps from a black BMW, which is idling near the curb. The driver, an older woman wearing large, dark shades, appears awfully suspicious as she glances around, scoping out her surroundings. She reeks of money and control. Her flashy diamond necklace and car confirm my assumption.
I’m completely intrigued when the person who is most definitely Jude, slips the hood over his head, cloaking his appearance, and walks to the driver’s side. I sink low, afraid he’ll see me, but crane my neck and watch in horror as he tosses a huge wad of cash at the woman. He couldn’t care less that he’s just thrown the equivalent of my life savings at her while she grins, pressing her full, ruby lips together and blowing him a seductive, well-sated kiss.
The transaction is subtle, and if you’d blinked, you’d miss it, but I’ve seen it all. In one fluid motion, he jogs across the road and disappears into the night. The car takes off, the population none the wiser, except me. My brain short-circuits, not understanding what I just saw. If I’d seen this particular scenario take place in a movie, I’d without a doubt assume that what I just saw was incredibly…dodgy.
All the pieces are there. I just don’t want to put them together.
With my appetite totally shot, I pay the bill and make my way home, my mind processing everything I just saw.
I know Jude has secrets, we all do, but his secret is one that rules him.
I can’t help but wonder how Jude keeps Angus enrolled in the school that he does, as Henry hinted the cost wasn’t cheap. He confessed his job at Pop’s wasn’t raking in the big bucks, so how could he afford handing over that huge wad of cash? There’s no way he could have those kinds of funds just lying around.
I think about the bullies mentioning that Angus’s dad was a deadbeat. Is this the reason Henry dislikes Jude so? The reason Rosemary left? Is Jude involved in something so sinister, so crooked, his wife couldn’t stick around? But her leaving Angus behind doesn’t make any sense.
None of this does.
Pacing my kitchen doesn’t help, so I decide I need fresh air. Storming over to the back door, I yank it open and take a much-needed deep breath. My head is bowed, so I don’t notice a figure in my yard until I hear a thud and a curse. Using the moonlight as my conductor, I catch sight of someone face planted on my lawn. I know without really looking who it is.
At first sight, it appears Jude is drunk and passed out. But when I see his left hand extended above his head pull at blades of grass; I know I’m wrong. My gut churns as I race down the stairs.
“What happened?” I call out shrilly. Jude groans.
He doesn’t answer; instead, he attempts to crawl toward me. He moves an inch before giving up. I gasp, quickening my step. The moment I reach him, I cover my gaping mouth. Jude has rolled to his side, his gray sweater stained in bright red.
All thoughts of what I saw tonight are put on the backburner. “Oh my god!” I screech, crouching beside him, and quickly unzipping his hoodie as I roll him onto his back. Without a second thought, I tear off my shirt and scrunch it into a ball. I press it over the bleeding wound to his abdomen.
His cool fingers unexpectedly fly up, clasping my wrist. I yelp in surprise but also fear for his safety. “Inside,” he forces out between staggered breaths. His face is a complete mess.
Squeezing both eyes shut, I inhale through my nose, centering myself before I pass out. “No.” My voice is choppy. “Y-you need to go to the hospital!” I press, as I think he’s been…shot.
“No.” His head lolls as he attempts to shake it. “You.”
“Me?”
He nods, his eyes pleading with me.
I don’t know what to do. I know first aid, but that does not include treating a bleeding, half-conscious man.
“Please,” he begs, squeezing my wrist. “I can’t go to the hospital…please, Victoria.” His desperate plea is my final undoing. I squash down all my personal demons because Jude needs me.
Brushing the sweaty hair off his brow, I nod. “Can you stand?”
He makes a pained face but manages to sit up, hunched over.
“Hold onto me,” I instruct, still pressing the shirt firmly over his wound.
Jude grins a pained smile. “That won’t be a problem.” He wraps a shaky arm around me while leaning against me.
“Okay. One…two…three.” Jude groans but tries his best to lift his weight, making it easier for me to stand him up. When he’s upright, we commence a slow, unsteady walk toward my home. He stumbles and almost falls along the way, but we manage after three attempts to get him up the stairs and inside.
“I’m sorry,” he gasps, sagging against me as we stagger into the kitchen.
“It’s okay. Just don’t die on me.” He lets out a pained laugh.
I lead him over to a dining chair, which he slumps into, letting out a braying grunt. He clutches his side, winded.
“Can you take your sweater o-off?” I ask, endeavoring to help him with one hand as I’m still pressing the shirt to his side. He nods, hissing as he attempts to slip out of his hoodie. At this rate, he’ll bleed all over my kitchen floor. “I never thought I’d say this, but let me help you…u-undress.” I gently touch his shoulder.