by Ciara Shayee
Then, like a pair of arms engulfing her, Indie felt her body warm from the inside, out. She had to bite back a happy hum. Laker. He brought so much to her life without even knowing it. A simple arm over her shoulder or a smile on his always-happy face brightened her mood whether she let herself show it or not. His crooked smile, easy-going friendliness, the never-abating warmth emanating from his skin, and the bond she’d witnessed growing between him and her daughter all combined to make him the person that made inhaling an automatic bodily function, rather than the chore it had become. He was easy and uncomplicated; never asking anything of her that she wasn’t willing to give.
“Indie?”
She gasped as she was pulled back into the little armchair in the psychologist’s office. “Could you try to share your thoughts with me?”
“Laker. It’s Laker. Your question before, about who I’m most relaxed with. It’s…it’s Laker.”
Ines masked her surprise at Indie’s outburst, shifting in her chair as she made notes on her pad without having to look down. “Could you explain that?”
Indie frowned. “He’s just…he’s always there when I need him. He makes it easier to breathe.”
“That’s a great start, thank you. When you say he makes it easier to breathe, how does he do that? What does he do, or say, that helps you?”
“When I’m near Laker, it’s like…I don’t know how to explain it.”
“It’s okay, take your time,” Ines said softly, smiling in that reassuring way Indie was sure psychologists learned in college. “You’re doing so well, Indie.”
She nodded, the frustration still evident on her face. “He’s warmth. That sounds weird, but…I feel cold all the time, and being near Laker makes me feel warm. It’s like, he just smashes through everything, all the bad stuff, and makes it evaporate so I don’t have to deal with it for a while.”
Blue-green eyes met surprised but proud ice-blue.
Indie steeled herself. “He soaks up all the bad, so I can feel good, and I don’t think he even realises he does it.” Emboldened by the shocking feeling of freedom, Indie sat a little straighter in the chair, cradling her bump as she continued pouring out her feelings.
“It feels like I’ve been paused for the last twelve years and now my blood is running again. Just hugging him makes me feel stronger, makes me feel a million times lighter. Sometimes it’s like he can see right through me, and I know I should be terrified of that, but it’s just…it’s liberating. I never thought it would happen, but I can’t see my life without him in it, and we’ve only been friends again for a month and a half.”
Indie’s remaining breath leaked out of her in a long, drawn-out huff of a sigh, which left her feeling equal parts empty and relieved.
Ines’ beaming smile was wider than Indie had ever seen it. She nodded; her hand paused over the notepad in her lap. “Indie, have you considered the reasons for you feeling more inclined to relax around Laker, someone you saw only fleetingly as a child, as opposed to your family or Grace”
Indie shook her head, suddenly feeling wary.
“May I share my suspicion?” When Indie nodded, Ines continued. “All right. Please answer these questions. Briefly, if you prefer, but some of them may require longer answers.”
“Okay.”
“Right, good.” Ines inhaled a deep breath. “When I say ‘dad,’ what is the first emotion that comes to mind, the first emotion you feel?”
Without thinking, Indie blurted the first word that popped into her head. It only shocked one of them. “Guilt.”
“Why do you feel guilty when you think of your dad?”
Frowning, she admitted, “Because I doubted him. I doubted that he’d find us, and I thought he’d give up searching.”
“So you thought he’d give up on you?”
Too ashamed to answer, Indie stared at the carpet under her feet, realising she almost couldn’t see it over her large bump.
“Grace.”
“I didn’t fight hard enough,” Indie whispered, tears springing to her eyes. “I lied to my best friend, my sister. She didn’t deserve that.”
“And you didn’t deserve having to take care of yourself and your sister in such horrific circumstances, but you did it.” Soothing though her voice may be, it fell on deaf ears.
Indie couldn’t help but remember all the times she’d lied to Grace over the years, whether to stop her from asking questions about what had happened in the study, whether Reagan and Peter were still looking for them, or why they had to pretend that Garrett Smith was their dad, day-in, day-out. In her mind, she saw the day Garrett threw her into the bedroom where Grace was waiting, and she’d had to listen to her whimpers while stifling her own as she explained the charade they had to play until their rescue. Dozens of cuts, bruises, and scars flitted in a seemingly, never-ending reel behind Indie’s eyes.
Grace’s watery, baby-blues hovered on the sidelines of each and every memory, her tears soaking into the deepest recesses of Indie’s mind.
Those tears are all my fault.
“She trusted me, and I abused that.”
Ines was about to speak, but Indie cut her off, pushing up on the armrests to heave herself to her feet.
“I can’t do this. I-I’m done. Can I go now? Please?”
Ines’ eyes softened as she gazed at the emotionally wrought, heavily pregnant young woman in front of her. “Of course. I’ll see you Friday, Indie. Take care.”
With that, Indie spun on her heel and left the room as quickly as she could. Reagan, Peter, and Grace, all seated in the waiting area, watched through shocked eyes as Indie threw open the door and waddled out. The session wasn’t due to finish for another ten minutes.
They followed Indie out to the car park, where they found her pacing beside Reagan’s car.
“Are you okay, honey?” Reagan asked calmly, trying to hide his worry.
“I’m fine, Dad. Can we please go? Now?”
“Sure, sure. Come on then.”
The ten-minute drive home was filled with tense, almost hostile silence.
When the group arrived on Percival Road, they headed straight indoors. Despite the hindrance her bump had become in recent weeks, Indie was the first inside. Expecting her to hide out in her room the way she usually did after a session with Ines, Reagan was surprised to see her heading for the kitchen. When the trio—Reagan, Peter, and Grace—stepped into the room, they were stunned to see a half-smile on Indie’s face. Marley was wrapped around her legs, her body tucked into Laker’s side as he teased her about being able to start dinner earlier than planned.
“Well, I’ll be damned…” Reagan breathed.
“You’re not kidding, pal,” Peter murmured, reaching up to squeeze his friend’s shoulder. “She’s like a different person.”
Grace’s eyes teared up as watched Indie stare adoringly at Laker.
~ oOo ~
Hours later, under the cover of darkness, Indie and Grace sat on the grass near the fence separating the two gardens. Their hands were linked between them, cross-legged knees touching. With their foreheads pressed lightly together, eyes closed, and breaths soft, anybody watching may have thought they were meditating. A forgiving breeze carried their hair in a gentle arc before laying it back over their shoulders, chocolate waves entwined with auburn.
Overhead, the stars shone brightly in an inky black sky, the moon a glowing lantern bathing the garden in its ethereal light.
For once, they were peaceful.
Over the sound of crickets chirping in the foliage beyond the fence, cars made short work of the dual carriageway on the other side of the lakes between the road and the houses. Hanging between the girls’ ears was a set of white headphones, soft music lulling them into a calm, almost meditative state.
Unthinkingly, Indie’s free left hand moved from where it clutched at the grass to her bump, where it fisted the soft material of Laker’s hoodie. She’d borrowed it after dinner and her bath, her bottom half ensconced i
n his grey jogging bottoms once again. In the time she and Grace had been back, their fathers had bought them new clothes, but they both preferred the larger items belonging to their loved ones.
It made them feel safe, wrapped in their scents and dwarfed by their size.
“What did you talk about?” Grace’s voice carried on the breeze, her eyes still closed.
“Feelings. How I feel about certain people. Why I feel that way,” Indie’s eyelids flickered before opening. “What did you talk about?” This talking session had become routine since their sessions with Ines began. Both girls found it therapeutic.
“Our recovery. Our visit to the hospital next week.”
The reminder or their upcoming appointments made Indie tense. She’d been trying to put it out of her mind, not wanting to look weak by admitting she was terrified to be in such a populated place, unable to keep track of all the people who’d doubtlessly be around her. That wasn’t even including the doctors she and Grace would have to see.
“You,” Grace added before Indie could worry herself into a panic attack.
“Ines said you mentioned Laker?”
Grace nodded, just a slight dip of her head. “She asked who I’m close to, and I mentioned that he’s a good friend. Did she talk about him to you, too?”
“Yeah.” Indie’s brows knotted together in the centre of her forehead.
Pulling back a few inches, Grace frowned. “You and Laker are close now, and it’s probably normal for her to want to talk about our friends, right?” Getting no reaction from Indie, she pushed on tentatively. “I mean…you feel better when he’s around, right?”
“I…yeah, I do.”
“Exactly. Ines just wants to help, but she needs to know how we’re feeling to be able to do that.”
“I guess.”
Grace hummed, lips twitching upwards at her friend’s stubborn nature. It was increasingly clear Indie was feeling more and more attached to Laker.
Earlier, for example. She’d been all-but shaking with emotion in the car, but within a few minutes of being with Laker, her face had brightened considerably and she was smiling—albeit, shakily. Grace was very aware of Indie’s ability to hide her emotions, so she was willing to bet there were more simmering beneath the surface than she’d show. That said, the way her body relaxed as soon as she was close to Laker spoke for itself.
Likewise, the way she’d drifted perilously close to returning to her silent self while Laker made a weekend trip to visit his dad for his birthday. She’d spent three whole days wandering the house, lost without her sun. Marley hadn’t fared much better.
Needless to say, everyone had welcomed Laker back with open arms when he’d returned a day earlier than planned, snapping Indie from the odd mood she’d slipped into in his absence.
A few minutes passed before Indie clicked her tongue. “What?”
“Nothing,” Grace said gleefully. “I was just thinking.”
Indie wasn’t convinced, but she nodded anyway.
The pair stayed out in the moonlight for another hour before they rose without a word, making their way to Indie’s bed where they fell asleep quickly, hands linked between them on the mattress until Marley crept into the middle, her stomach lifting and dropping their palms as she snored softly.
~ oOo ~
The next day dawned grey and mournful. The sky had darkened in the early hours, rain drenching everything within its reach. Indie and Grace waved Reagan and Peter off to work, returning to the kitchen where Laker was wolfing down his fry-up.
“Enjoying that, are we?” Indie teased softly.
“Definitely!” Laker agreed once he’d swallowed his mouthful. “Best breakfast I’ve had all day.”
Grace snickered at his joke—of course, he’d only had the one breakfast that day, though she suspected he’d have many more if they were put in front of him—as Laker tossed a cheeky wink her way; Indie’s cheeks flushed at the praise.
“Seriously though,” he continued, bringing his pressed-together forefinger and thumb to his lips before smacking them in the Italian gesture for ‘delicious,’ following it with a lazy, roguish grin that sent butterflies soaring in Indie’s stomach. The baby kicked heartily, as he or she always did when Laker spoke.
Still flushed from Laker’s attention, Indie scurried from the room, murmuring that she was heading for the bathroom. Grace giggled, her eyes following Indie’s waddling form before returning to Laker just in time to watch him fit a large forkful of food into his mouth, one of his mirthful green eyes winking and sparking another round of laughter. “You did that on purpose,” she accused.
Laker arranged his features in the most innocent expression he could, swallowing his food. “I would never.”
As he resumed hoovering up his breakfast, Grace snorted and leaned back against the wall, ankles crossed, arms over her chest. The relaxed way she held herself was completely at odds with the otherwise closed-off stance she’d taken. Gazing out at the sheets of rain pouring from the charcoal clouds, Grace couldn’t help but muse that when it came to distracting both herself and Indie from their troubles, there wasn’t much Laker wouldn’t do.
It was a heart-warming realisation, one that reminded her of a lighter-haired young man whose hobby it had once been to cheer her, Marley, and Indie amidst the hell they’d had to call ‘home’ for twelve years.
Where are you, Ryan? Are you happy? Safe?
I miss you.
~ oOo ~
Later, once the morning had drifted seamlessly into a mild afternoon, Grace led Laker, Indie, and Marley next-door to watch a movie on the larger flat-screen in Peter’s living room. As Laker and Indie settled themselves on one part of the L-shaped sofa, Marley took a spot on the other side, patting the cushion beside her with a whispered, “Sit here, Auntie Gwacie.”
Grace cried the first time Marley said her name, even with the ‘R’ replaced by a ‘W’ for now. Her speech was improving day by day as she added more and more words to her vocabulary. As she grinned to herself at being chosen to be Marley’s movie-watching snuggle-buddy, Grace picked up a random DVD from her dad’s vast collection before turning to the DVD player. It was fixed to the wall beneath the TV.
“Uh…” A red light eyed her as she tried to deduce what the little symbols on each of the buttons represented. For a girl who’d rarely had the opportunity to use anything more technical than a coffee machine or cooker, it was confusing to see so many new shapes. As a child, she, Archie, Laker, and Indie had spent the majority of their time outside, so she couldn’t even rely on those early memories for help.
“Here, let me get that, Grace.”
Her cheeks flushed a little at the sound of her name wrapped in Laker’s lazy, Italian-accented drawl. She handed over the case, sliding swiftly into place between the end of the sofa and Marley’s warm little body.
“Right. Drinks? Snacks? Can’t watch a movie without ‘em,” Laker declared, rubbing his hands together.
“I’ll get—” Indie instinctively halted, stunned to find herself pinned in place by a reproachful green gaze.
“Sit. I offered; I’ll get them. Just try and relax, okay?” At her bemused frown, he sighed with a soft smile. “You two do a lot for everybody ‘round here. Let me do something in return.”
Twelve years of being conditioned to expect no help left the girls tongue-tied and a little uncomfortable. They weren’t used to other people wanting to do things for them; it was a shock to the system. And up until now, everybody had been too nervous of setting them off to put their foot down and tell them they couldn’t do something.
“I…er, Laker,” Indie began, trailing off with a tight jaw as she hopelessly fought a burgeoning scowl.
He grinned, flashing pearly white teeth. “Indie, you just stay there and let me get the snacks, or I’ll just have to make you.”
She squared her shoulders, forcing herself to look nonchalant despite her heart racing with something other than fear for once. She cocked an eyebr
ow.
Laker was struck by two thoughts as she did this.
The first was that she looked so incredibly like her mother at that moment.
The second was that he was inextricably longing to draw her into his arms and never let go.
It was disorientating, to say the least. Laker had only had three noteworthy girlfriends, the last relationship ending almost four years ago. Not one of those women stirred such strong emotions within him as Indie did. He hated and loved it in equal measures. Indie had been through more in her twenty-one years than many people experienced in their entire lifetime. The last thing she needed was some old friend from her past pawing at her.
A small voice in the back of his mind reminded Laker that he was her friend, she was his Pie first and foremost, and that he couldn’t look at her with anything more than platonic love. However, even as those thoughts swirled around his brain, it felt wrong to think that way. To think of Indie as ‘just a friend.’
But what alternative was there?
Laker turned and stormed into the kitchen, the girls sharing a confused look at his back as he marched away with a troubled tint to his expression.
When he returned a few minutes later, carrying glasses of cold lemonade and a bowl of cheese savouries, Indie and Grace were disheartened to see that he hadn’t shaken the dark look from his face.
~ oOo ~
An hour into the movie, Indie’s eyes weren’t anywhere near the screen.
Instead, they were fixed on the tanned, slightly calloused fingertips of Laker’s right hand. He tapped them against his navy and white shorts in a rhythm only he could hear. His face had run the full spectrum of emotions in the past hour, his eyes switching from troubled and dark, to happy and bright as his thoughts ran laps around his head.
Indie’s stomach twisted, the baby kicking sharply against her ribs, as she flicked her eyes upwards to his face, shocked to find herself busted. He cocked his head, silently asking if she was okay. Embarrassed to have been caught staring, and more than a little confused by the way his gaze made her feel so many foreign emotions, she tipped her head away and stared blankly at the TV screen.