Losing Leah

by Tiffany King

  Now it appeared I was set to start as soon as I got settled at home. Mom’s news created butterflies the size of dragons in my stomach.

  I wanted to ask Jacob more questions but didn’t want them to know I was worried. They both already hovered over me enough. It was as if they were afraid I was going to break at any moment. I didn’t want to give them yet another thing to worry about with me. Over the last few weeks, it had become obvious Dad was having issues being around me. Nobody would say it, but each meal seemed more strained than the one before.

  Finally, three nights ago, he gave up the charade and hadn’t shown up since. Mom and Jacob seemed to have a harder time accepting it than me. I understood, probably better than they did. I made Dad uncomfortable. Mom and Jacob continued to make up excuses for him. When Jacob arrived alone, carrying yet another pizza for our dinner, they both tried hard to reassure me that Dad was stuck at work, but I had read the annoyance in Jacob’s eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Mom shook her head before flashing a smile my way. I could have told them it didn’t matter. I might be having issues adjusting to life on the outside, but I wasn’t dumb. They didn’t have to hide the truth from me.

  “I wouldn’t be nervous, sis. School’s a piece of cake,” Jacob said during a commercial break.

  “Oh, I’m not,” I lied.

  “Good. You’ll have no problem fitting in. All my friends can’t wait to meet you. Plus, even your old friend, Amber, found me during lunch today to ask about you.”

  My head snapped up so abruptly at his words that it startled him. Amber? Had I heard him right? Amber wasn’t my friend. She was Mia’s friend. According to Dr. Marshall, she was a figment of my imagination. “Amber?” I asked, gripping the edge of the bed.

  “She was a little girl you used to play with. Her family moved into the house at the end of our street two months before you were taken. You two were inseparable,” Mom said.

  I couldn’t believe it. Amber was a part of my world.

  * * *

  “How did you sleep last night?” Dr. Marshall asked the next morning as we settled in for my session. She reached into her briefcase to extract her notepad.

  “Good,” I lied, folding my legs under me.

  She looked up from her briefcase. “Mia?” It wasn’t a question so much as a gentle scolding. We both knew I was lying. After three weeks of daily sessions she already knew me better than anyone else.

  I picked at the skin on my thumb. All my cuticles were dry and cracking. Even though it hurt, I couldn’t resist picking at them. “I miss my dreams,” I admitted quietly.

  “Your dreams about Mia?”

  I nodded.

  She scribbled on her notepad. “Are you remembering the dreams better now?”

  I shrugged. It was too hard to explain. Mia had been a part of my life for so long. I never questioned how it was that I could see her. I should have. Dr. Marshall could spout out her clinical mumbo jumbo about brains protecting themselves, but how did I create something that didn’t even exist? That concept was still hard for me to grasp.

  “Mia’s best friend is real. She was my friend before Judy—well, you know…” My voice trailed off.

  She nodded.

  I sighed, hating when I felt I was missing something crucial.

  “That makes sense. Of course you would want to keep some familiarity in your means of escape. Giving her to Mia was almost like a gift.”

  “She was a great friend to Mia,” I mushed, not caring if I sounded crazy.

  “I bet she was. I’m glad she was there for you.”

  I opened my mouth to argue that she wasn’t there for me, but that’s exactly what Amber was there for. It was hard to sort through all the mess. A familiar flutter of panic began to beat in my chest. I could feel my pulse begin to race and my palms became damp.

  “How’s your friend Gunner doing?” she asked, changing the subject. Dr. Marshall was good at that. It was as if she instinctively knew how hard to push before retreating, and lately Gunner seemed to be her favorite go-to topic.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and the rapid fluttering in my chest. I reached for my glass and took a drink. I wasn’t thirsty, but I needed a buffer as I switched gears.

  Dr. Marshall waited patiently. She never pushed me to hurry. We both knew that I just needed a minute.

  “He’s good,” I finally answered when my near panic attack was under control.

  “Is he still introducing you to new things?” she asked, looking at the iPhone in my lap that Mom had given me the day Gunner and I had met. The iPhone was already loaded with over three hundred songs Jacob had sorted into what he called “playlists,” but I referred to them as cassettes, much to his amusement. Gunner and I had spent hours going through all the songs, picking our favorites. Gunner’s tastes were different from mine. He liked the louder songs that vibrated your body when they were turned up. I went for the softer ballads that told a story. We both agreed that neither of us liked pop music all that much. Gunner claimed it all sounded the same. For me, pop music was just too cheerful.

  I couldn’t help the goofy smile that crossed my face as I continued to discuss Gunner. “Yesterday he made me try sushi,” I said, scrunching up my nose.

  She eyed me inquisitively for a moment before asking her next question. “I’m taking it you didn’t like it?”

  It was a logical question, but I had the distinct feeling she wanted to ask me something different. Call it intuition. Maybe in her eyes it was too soon for me to get close to a guy. “I almost threw up,” I answered honestly. “I didn’t believe him when he said people actually eat it. He’s a prankster, you know.”

  She laughed. “Not only do we eat it, but we also pay good money for it.”

  “Gross, you eat raw fish?”

  “It’s an acquired taste.”

  I shuddered. It would never be an acquired taste for me. “Clearly, but I’ll take a cheeseburger and fries any day.”

  “That’s where he made his mistake. He should have given you the sushi first. It’s not fair to give you a juicy burger and fries and then expect you to like sushi,” she said, winking at me. “Do you two have plans for today?”

  I nodded, barely able to contain my excitement. Gunner had promised something special since I was being released the next day. He knew how nervous I was about leaving and he promised to make me forget about my fear of what lay beyond the hospital walls. It was a tall order considering the anxiety I was experiencing. I was scared to leave what had come to feel like a sanctuary. Thanks to Gunner’s influence, I was able to talk to everyone in the hospital with more ease. They greeted me like an old friend, especially after I had learned most of their names.

  “Gunner says it’s a surprise.”

  “Sounds like he’s becoming a very good friend.”

  I gnawed on the side of my thumb. “He is. I’m going to miss him.”

  She tapped her pen on her notepad. It was a tic that I wasn’t even sure she was aware of. “I’m sure you will at first, but you’re going to make lots of new friends. Your mom says you’ll be starting school next week. How does that make you feel?”

  The piece of skin I was tugging at with my teeth came free, leaving a small trickle of blood. “Fine,” I lied.

  She eyed me knowingly. “Mia.”

  I huffed. It was annoying that she knew me so well. “I’m scared. Why can’t I stay here for a little while longer? I don’t think I’m ready.”

  “Mia, this,” she said, sweeping her hands around the room, “this is a small fraction of what you’re going to experience. I know the world feels like a scary place at the moment and I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling. You barely got a chance to live before you were ripped away. We haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of what you went through, but I also know you’re still harboring feelings of guilt. You’re a brave young lady, Mia, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that you’re going to find your footing. I will be here
to help you through this transition as will your family. You won’t be alone.”

  I pondered her words, turning them over and over again in my mind. It all sounded so easy when she put it that way, and yet the idea of walking out of the building the next day was overwhelmingly frightening.

  My session with Dr. Marshall ended when Mom showed up with lunch. Dr. Marshall went over my schedule and the anxiety medicine and sleeping pills she was prescribing for me. “I want you to call me if you start to panic and the anxiety pills don’t work.” She handed Mom two slips of paper. “I’ll prescribe something stronger if this one doesn’t work.” She and Mom looked at me sternly.

  It was no secret that I kept things bottled up. I didn’t like to complain. Gunner had teased me the day before, saying I was an anomaly in a world of whiners who sought out attention. I rolled my eyes, which was a brand-new gesture I was perfecting. Along with exposing me to new things, Gunner was also schooling me on how to fit in. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me. I’d once read a quote about the “blind leading the blind.” It couldn’t have fit us more perfectly.

  My thoughts were pulled back to the conversation between Dr. Marshall and Mom when I heard my name mentioned. “Remember, baby steps,” Dr. Marshall instructed me. “No one is expecting you to fit right in.”

  I nodded numbly, trying to keep my concern from reaching full-on freak-out mode.

  Dr. Marshall surprised me by giving me a tight hug before she left. In the seventeen sessions we’d seen each other, she had yet to touch me. Her hug was unexpected, but I couldn’t resist returning it tightly. Hugging was still so new to me that each one felt different from the last. This one felt like a promise of hope and strength. It was as if she were trying to pass on the emotional weapons I would need to survive.

  Mom and I ate a quiet lunch after Dr. Marshall left. “Tomorrow, once we get you settled in at home, I thought we could do some shopping.” Mom grabbed a chip out of her bag with two fingers.

  My bite of sandwich stuck in my throat. I took a long swig of Coke, which was another Gunner influence.

  He was so funny, pretending like he was having a heart attack when I told him I had never had a soda before. Without a word, he snatched his wallet off the table and grabbed my hand. The next thing I knew we were standing in front of a soda machine and he was handing me dollars to feed into it. He wasn’t satisfied until we had one of every kind. Getting the cold cans to his room turned out to be a feat. I’d ended up dropping one, which promptly exploded, earning me a frown from a nurse who paged for custodial. Undeterred, Gunner dragged me back to the vending machine to replace the exploded drink. After finally making it back to his room, he promptly set up what he referred to as a taste test. I liked most of the drinks I tried, but in the end, Coke was the winner. Since then I had been guzzling it like water.

  “So, would you like that?” Mom asked.

  I couldn’t even form a sentence. Instead, I nodded like a puppet. Somewhere in my deepest dreams, shopping was another item on my list of things I yearned for but never expected to do. I’d read about shopping in books and seen it on TV, but that was the extent of my experience with it.

  “I figured you could use some new school clothes. You can’t very well wear your robe and pajamas every day.” She was teasing. I had learned to tell the difference. “Your room could also use an update. I was going to go without you, but figured you might like picking out your own things.”

  My eyes became misty, but I wasn’t sad and I wasn’t hurt. My eyes were wet from joy. “Thank you.” I reached out tentatively to touch the back of her hand. It was the first time I had initiated contact between us.

  Mom’s eyes matched mine, tears spilling down her cheeks as our fingers laced together. Maybe everything would work out.

  My gesture seemed to bust the invisible wall that had been firmly wedged between us. Our conversation became easier. We didn’t have to work so hard to keep it going. Whether we meant to our not, we avoided talking about the last ten years. Instead, we talked about my new room and our upcoming shopping spree.

  I was still buzzing with excitement when I met Gunner that afternoon. I went on like a chatterbox, dominating the conversation as he guided me away from our wing of the hospital. Only when he started laughing did I realize I’d barely given him an opportunity to talk. “Oops.” I blushed deeply, grateful that he couldn’t see the ten different shades of red on my face.

  He patted my hand that was tucked through his arm. “I like it. You finally sound like a normal teen.”

  “What do I normally sound like?”

  He didn’t even hesitate before answering. “An adult with the weight of the world on their shoulders. And that’s when I can actually get you to talk. You have a beautiful voice. I’m happy to hear it filled with such happiness.”

  My cheeks heated up again, but for a different reason. He told me I had a beautiful voice. I didn’t even know that was a thing.

  Gunner guided me off the elevator, directing us toward a sign for the stairs. “Um, where are we going?” I finally thought to ask as he had me pull the heavy door open. It didn’t escape my attention that a week ago I would have struggled with it.

  His grip on my arm tightened as his feet navigated the stairs. I held on to the railing in case he stumbled. “It’s a surprise.”

  I grinned. I liked his surprises.

  We traveled up two flights of stairs that surprisingly left Gunner more winded than I was. I wrapped my hand around his arm, helping him up the remaining step. It made me want to break our pact and ask him why he was at the hospital, but I resisted. We had decided while getting to know each other that we wouldn’t ask the hard questions. He didn’t ask anything about my past and I didn’t question why he was in the hospital. Over the last week I noticed I was visibly getting stronger while Gunner’s health seemed to be declining. My hope was that he would decide on his own to tell me the truth.

  As we reached the final step we came upon a final sign that read ROOF ACCESS. Gunner recovered quickly, urging me toward the door. Unsure what to expect, I pushed the door open with my shoulder and was blinded instantly by brilliant sunlight. Squinting in the bright light, I cautiously led Gunner out the door.

  It took my eyes a few minutes to adjust, but once they did I couldn’t help feeling awed by the sight. I turned in slow circles, trying to take everything in. Gunner and I had ventured outside several times to hang out on the bench where we’d first met. We called it our spot. The problem was it was dwarfed by the buildings and trees and parking lots around it. Here on the roof though there was nothing but openness. The hospital was taller than the other buildings around it so the view was completely unobstructed for miles in every direction.

  I stood in the middle of the roof with my arms spread out. The wind was stronger than it was on the ground. It blew through my hair, whipping it around my face, and pulled and tugged at my body. I tilted my head back so the sun could soak my face with its bright rays. This is what freedom felt like. I wished I could bottle the feeling. I would carry it with me forever.

  Gunner had done this for me. Somehow he had figured out how to show me the world without actually stepping foot into it. It was my opportunity to try the world on for size before I was forced to jump in. He had given me the best gift I had ever received.

  23

  TWO FOLDING chairs and a small insulated bag sat off to the side of the door. Inside the bag were a couple of Cokes and two Reese’s cups. I didn’t ask how he had managed to pull that off. Gunner had a way of getting others to help him without question. He’d even thought to bring binoculars so I could see the houses miles away. Together we stayed on the roof until the sun began to set.

  “Thank you for all of this,” I said warmly. Gunner turned his face toward me at my words. “You’ve made these last couple of weeks bearable,” I admitted. “You made me feel like less of a freak.” The words were stilted and came out in an uneven cadence.

  Gunner sighed
dramatically. “Well, it’s been tough, but if I’m going to give Mother Teresa a run for her money, I need to be kind to all.”

  “Even the freaks,” I added.

  He chucked a rolled piece of his candy wrapper at me. Even though he was blind he was able to throw it with pinpoint accuracy as it bounced off my head. “Don’t be a jerk. It’s rude to call my friend a freak. Besides, it should be me thanking you. It’s been amazing to share in all of your firsts. You made me feel like I could see again.”

  “Did you call me a jerk?” I asked, tossing my own wrapper at him. Ironically it missed him by a mile.

  He smiled bluntly. “I call it like I see it. You’re no freak, Mia.” He reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “You don’t know this, but I was a little pissed at the world when I was forced to check into this luxury spa again. Then you showed up and gave me something else to focus on. You made me remember a crucial thing I’d forgotten.”

  My heart tripped at his words. This was the closest we had come to discussing why he was here. “And what is that?” I asked.

  He wrapped his fingers around mine, tracing his thumb over the top of my hand. “Appreciation. To stop cursing at fate and be thankful for everything I’ve been given. I was so pissed over the cards I’d been dealt and then I met you. Timid Mia who wasn’t even sure what name to claim. Mia who had endured more struggle than most people would ever know.”

  His statement made me uncomfortable. I tugged at my hand, not liking where the conversation was headed. Gunner held on tightly for a moment before releasing me. “Don’t run away, Mia. I’ve waited all week to tell you this. You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. I know you don’t think so. I can practically feel your self-doubts radiating off you. In a world filled with people who cry over the most insignificant, trivial things, there’s you. You don’t have to tell me what you went through. You’re entitled to that small measure of privacy. I want you to know though that I think you are the bravest person I’ve ever met and you’ve helped me more than I could ever help you.”