Learning to Heal

Home > Other > Learning to Heal > Page 17
Learning to Heal Page 17

by Cole, R. D.


  After dinner I walk to Chanda’s apartment on a mission to find out the truth. I hope she’s home because now that everything is falling in place, the last piece is still missing. And like they say, save the best for last. Jazz is truly the best for me, but I still need proof she didn’t cheat on me. The longer I’m away from her, the more I just want to take her back regardless of what she did or didn’t do.

  I knock on Chanda’s door and hear the grumble from her dad on the other side. When he answers the door a strong aroma of alcohol and stale cigarettes invades my sense of smell and takes my breath away. He must be drinking again.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Stewart, is Chanda home?”

  He squints with red, dazed eyes and rubs his long, greasy beard. “Chanda? She hasn’t been home for three fucking days. Do me a favor will ya, Mason? If you see her tell her she owes me some goddamn rent money or she can take her bony ass and move somewhere else. Got it?” He mumbles something else and slams the door in my face. Feeling defeated I walk back to my mom’s for another restless night of dreams that leave me wanting more. So much more.

  After Symone arrives in Mobile, I take her to meet Grace and my mom. The apartment is completely spotless and feels warmer than it has in a while. Mom has even taken the next few days off to enjoy some time with us. She’s even pulled out a recipe book to prepare some home cooked meals—totally out of the ordinary. Pulling into my regular spot, I look around for Chanda’s car and still don’t see it in sight. Frustrated doesn’t even cover what I’m feeling. I don’t know if she ran away again or if she’s actually missing, but every time I ask her dad, I get the same response as the first time. I could just go and ask Jazz, but seeing her will only have me begging her to forgive me. And if she’s with Professor Wallace it will only make the situation worse. She’s just way too beautiful for me to resist. And cheating is something I’m totally against. Especially with all the shit that has happened in my family recently.

  “Wow, Mase. Mobile is so much bigger than my town. Morgantown is just full of cornfields and tractors, nothing like this.” She’s animated with her facial expression when she talks and her dimples show when she smiles.

  Even though I hate the nickname, I let her continue to use it. She’s my long lost sister and I want to make her happy. She’s totally right about Indiana. Cornfields are on every corner. “It’s pretty cool. Kind of easy access to anywhere you might want to go. You can go two hours west and be in New Orleans or go east and arrive in Pensacola, Florida.”

  “Wow! Do you think I could see the beach while I’m here?”

  I get out and grab her pink zebra print bag. Jazz would have loved this. Reprimanding myself, I shake those thoughts away and lead her up the concrete steps. “Yeah. I don’t see why not. It’s warm enough so we could definitely go swimming.”

  She squeals loudly while she jumps up gives me a hug. Mom answers the door and introduces herself and Grace. Symone is full of laughter and affection and quickly has Mom eating out of her hand. I was a little worried about my mom’s reaction to her with their past, but she knows how much this means to me. Talk is still limited because as well as she’s doing with Symone I don’t think she’s ready to talk about anything regarding Dad, which is completely cool with all of us. Grace lets Symone swing in her hammock swing she received from Jazz for Christmas, but after a few minutes she gets in Symone’s lap. Their laughter is heard from down the hall, and I laugh because it’s contagious. My two little sisters playing and laughing together has made up for all the torment I felt over the last few weeks when I found out the truth

  “She’s just wonderful, Mason,” Mom says while washing dishes. She hands each one to me to dry with practiced hands. We’ve always done this together since we never had a whole lot of time with her work schedule. Every second with her is cherished, even doing the dishes.

  “Yeah, she sure is. And great with Grace too. She’s coming with me to school tomorrow for a tour. She might actually apply to South. She has a great GPA and tons of extracurricular activities to add to her resume. She’s also in the running for Valedictorian.”

  “That would be great for you. And I know Grace would love it. Just listen to her laugh. I don’t think she’s laughed this much since Jazz was around.” Her eyes widen and she turns to me. “I’m sorry, Mason. I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.”

  Jazz. Her name has been coming up a lot lately and I have an urge to see her, but I swallow it down with the lump in my throat. I’ll worry about that later. Tonight I want to enjoy my family so I shrug it off. “It’s fine.

  “Can I ask what happened? I mean, I know I wasn’t always welcoming toward her, but she did make you happy. And if you find someone to make you feel that way, you need to hold on to it. Because if you don’t, someone else will. Or it may be too late when you finally realize it.”

  Nodding my head without a word, I kiss her cheek. I don’t know what to say or think right now. Picturing Jazz with someone else is like stabbing me in the chest with a dull, rusty knife. And not just kissing someone else, but her marrying someone else, being happy with them and growing old. The other guy waiting at the altar while she walks down the aisle. Her having another last name besides mine. Should I just sweep it all under the rug and forgive her regardless of what happened? And what if it was all a mistake? Would she even want me back after what I said and did that night?

  Keeping myself distracted, I decide to take the trash to the dumpster outside. When I exit the apartment I see a drunk and stumbling Chanda leaning on the railing to help hold her up. She looks ready to fall over and I’m positive alcohol isn’t the only thing floating in her system. She must hear the door shut behind me because she looks at my face.

  “Mason! Come here, babe. I missed you.” Her voice is loud enough to wake the dead, so I sit my trash down and walk toward her.

  The closer I get the stronger the smell of hard liquor is. Why must she continuously do this to herself? “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Eh! You know. Here and there.” She pulls a cigarette out of the pocket of her black, leather mini skirt. “Where’d you go? You just left me.”

  “I had family issues that are none of your business.” I can tell she’s not listening because her eyes won’t focus on anything while her body sways. I grab her cigarette and toss it in the grass before she can burn herself.

  “Hey! What the fuck, Mason?” She tries to shove me but only manages to weakly throw herself in my arms. “Mmmmm. You smell nice.” She inhales my neck as I hold her up.

  “I’m sure anything smells better than you right now. Let’s get you upstairs.” I lead her to my door but decide to just take her to her own apartment. I don’t need Symone to see this and decide not to visit in the future. Her door is unlocked and luckily her dad is passed out in his recliner so I don’t have to endure his yelling. After I lay her down on the small bed in her room, she blinks open her eyes and sits up unsteadily.

  “I always knew you’d come back to me. You always have been my hero and one day you’re gonna take me away.” She flings her arms out and hits one on the wall behind her. “Shit, that hurt!” Her words are slurred and she continues to sway. I should leave but I really want her phone. “Are you going to get me out of here?”

  She’s making no sense which is not surprising. I ignore her questions. “Can I see your phone?”

  She falls back down on her pillow and shrugs her shoulders. “Sure. But you already know my number, baby.” She reaches in her pocket and pulls it out before her eyes start to close again. God I hope she doesn’t OD tonight.

  Taking it from from her limp fingers, I flip it open and go straight to photos. I see a lot of her with different people at clubs. Her snorting cocaine and kissing a few people, but no Jazz. Before I let frustration set in, I go to her text messages and look for my name. When I click on it I finally find what I’ve been looking for. I feel my legs start to shake as I stare at the picture so I sit on the floor before I fall. The
image looks totally different when viewing it with a clear mind. I see Professor Wallace leaving, but Jazz has her arms crossed. Something I didn’t take time to see before. I know this is her angry stance. Flipping to the other pictures I never took the time to view, I see one of her face. Her beautiful face that looks scared and pissed at the same time. Her eyes are wide and her cheeks red with anger. I feel like pure shit. She didn’t want him there. She didn’t cheat on me. She didn’t hurt me like I thought. But I hurt her and I’m not sure I can fix the damage I caused but I’m damn sure going to try, not only for her but for our little girl.

  “Mmmmm! That feels so nice.” My voice comes out in a moan that can’t be helped. I feel the pressure of a hand on my foot as it continues to work its way up my calf muscle. The soft, leather chair vibrates on my neck and back to further relax my tense muscles and erase my stress. “Tru, this was a wonderful idea. Thanks, chica. You really know how to treat a woman.”

  “Don’t thank me. Thank your brother.” She yelps so I look in her direction. “Sorry. I’m very ticklish,” she tells the little lady doing her pedicure. When she looks at me in the other massage chair, I notice how happy she looks today. Her hair is in a high pony tail with long waves that still manage to reach her breasts, and the purple and white polka dot halter dress is beautiful on her.

  “That color you picked out is going to look so good with what you’re wearing. Of course I could never pull off purple so I stick with pink.”

  “No. You choose to stick with pink, but you’d totally rock any color. Even vomit or diarrhea green.”

  “Eww!” I laugh and over exaggerate. “Maybe so, but since I’m having a girl I’ll stick with pink. She’ll grow to love it just as much as I do.”

  “Can I just say that I absolutely love the name you picked? Finlee is so original and has star quality. How did you come up with it?”

  The lady puts on my little foot thingies so I won’t mess up the hard work she did on my toes. “I honestly don’t remember. I’ve always liked the name Finn because it’s so different. I just spelled it differently and added a feminine touch.” I walk over to the dryer and Trudy follows. I hope what I’m about to say doesn’t offend her or make her upset, but it’s something I really want to do. “I actually picked out the middle name too.”

  When I don’t continue right away she looks up from her phone. “Really? What is it? And why do you look nervous?”

  “Well … her name will be Finlee Breanne, in memory of your son Brian.” I watch her mouth drop open and her green eyes widen. “Is that okay? I didn’t want to offend you, but it’s something I’ve really been thinking about and really want to do. It even has a nice ring to it.”

  She stands up and walks over to me. My rambling stops because I really don’t know if she’s going to knock the shit out of me or hug me. I mean, I don’t think she would but have you seen her right hook? Tru Ali all the way. Instead of the KO, she stands me up and gives me the tightest hug I’ve ever received. And that’s saying something. When she pulls away she’s smiling with watery eyes.

  “That is a beautiful name and I feel honored you’d do that for me. Thank you.”

  “Aww, sweets. Thank you for coming into our lives. We love you and you’re going to be the best auntie ever for Princess Finlee.”

  She laughs and wipes her eyes. “Princess, huh?

  “Damn right bitch. Because I’m the queen.”

  We drive back to campus to get my car after we leave the salon. I’m feeling fresh with my new toes and wax job. My belly is so big for being eight months pregnant that shaving is definitely out of the picture. I don’t need to accidentally nick the goods, right? Even though no one is around to enjoy it, the doctor will appreciate it.

  Tru heads to her afternoon class while I decide to walk around. Being alone in my apartment is not fun and really depressing. I’ve really been thinking about moving home, but the nursery is perfect for Finlee so I really want to stay there for a while and get some use out of it. Mason did a great job putting all the furniture together—the dresser, the changing table, everything except for the crib. Every day he was with me helping to get things ready for the baby or at his mom’s helping with Grace. I was usually with him when he was there. We never did anything in front of Grace and we barely even kissed. He was very strict about that and I respected him more for it. So how did he have time to date or fool around with Chanda if he was so devoted to me? Or sleep with her for that matter? Things just don’t add up.

  Sitting under one of the largest oaks on campus, I continue to try and work things out in my mind. I miss him and in the deepest part of me I know he cares for me. Maybe he was so disgusted with what I had done that he just acted out. I feel my emotions getting the best of me but it just can’t be helped anymore. My throat clogs and burns, but I swallow it back not wanting to cry again. I should be done with the waterworks already.

  “Funny seeing you here.” My heart jumps out of my chest and I scream from the unfamiliar voice. “Shit! What the hell? You almost gave me a heart attack.” When I see Bo sitting beside me I start to laugh. Great way to switch emotional gears.

  “Sorry. You looked so serious sitting here all alone. Thought I could make you laugh, and look...” he touches my cheek “...I succeeded.” He smiles and I notice a cute dimple on his cheek, but I still feel nothing for this good looking guy. Nadda. Zilch.

  “Well, thank you but you really didn’t need to almost make me pee on myself to get me to smile. Just produce a chocolate bar and some beef jerky. You’ll see me smile while inhaling it. Lately I’ve been bringing David to shame.”

  “Oh really! So a way to make you happy is to feed you? Hmmm …” He taps his chin while he thinks. I watch his strong profile work, begging for some kind of effect but I only feel like a weirdo for staring. And now I’m hungry. “Why don’t I take you out to get something to eat then? You can pick where and get whatever you want.”

  Shocked, I squeak out, “Like a date?” He nods and I feel my heart stop. I’m taken aback that this good looking guy would want to take a girl who’s eight months pregnant out on a date. “Are you on drugs? Can you not see that I’m about to pop out a tiny human in a few weeks? Why on earth would a guy like you want that kind of baggage?” For some weird reason I feel pissed off at this guy. I hold up my hand before he can answer. “Is it because I’m pregnant that you think I’m an easy lay or some shit? Oh hell to the no on that! If you’re hoping to take a dive in this, you can forget it and take your cute dimpled face away from me because the Jazz party closed months ago.”

  I stand up and start walking toward my car. What nerve some assholes have! But honestly I’m just lashing out at someone to get some of this anger out of my system. And I really need to keep Bo at a distance. Guys are bad news. When he starts to call my name I ignore it and keep walking. Then I hear a familiar laugh break through my inner ramblings. It causes my heart to hit my stomach and my feet to stop. Turning around I see him. Mason.

  All the emotions I’ve tried to bury all these weeks come rushing back and the air leaves my lungs. He looks so happy. Smiling and laughing. I’ve missed that sound so much, and I want to be why he’s smiling again. When we make eye contact for the first time in over a month I feel like we just saw each other this morning. I feel like nothing has changed between us and we’re still best friends and lovers. His vanishes as his expression morphs from happiness to shock. Then a small smile starts to lift his lips and my feet want to go toward him to have him hold me and tell me it was all a lie. A bad dream. Then my nightmare becomes a reality again when I see her. A thin and tall beauty queen with her fiery red hair and long legs. She jumps on his back like it’s normal and wraps them around his waist while laughing. They look so happy it causes me to see red. He politely sets her down and starts to walk toward me, but I can’t deal with him being with someone else. Turning away, I start to speed walk away from him before he sees the tears and sees me break again like I didn’t want. Now, instead o
f picturing Chanda and him together, I get to picture him with someone else. Someone who’s a perfect beauty and actually good enough for him.

  Feeling a sharp pain in my chest, I take a deep breath trying to calm down. I start to feel disoriented and lost so I shake my head trying to get myself in order. I need to get away. The dizziness won’t go away, though, and shaking my head only makes it worse. I feel sick and want to vomit so I try to cover my mouth with my hand but I can’t lift it. My body is heavy and weak all of a sudden and I’m scared. My heart rate continues to escalate and my head feels so heavy it’s hard to hold up. I’m terrified but unable to stop what’s happening to me. Everything is spinning so fast that I reach out to steady myself but nothing is there. Spots form and soon my vision fades in and out. I can barely make out faces hovering above me, all worried and screaming, but I can’t hear anything they’re saying. Only the sound of my heart beating at high-speed reaches my ears, only the sound of it breaking. Again.

  The next thing I see when I open my eyes is a searing light that has my eyes screaming for relief, “Shit!” My throat is dry and scratchy. I’m positive from the heat coming out of my mouth that my breath is killer too. What the hell? My voice sounds like it did when I spoke for the first time a few weeks ago. I was just talking to … to … hell if I know. But I know I was definitely talking. I’ll worry about that later. First thing I need to do is find the friggin’ light switch and turn it off and then get some water.

 

‹ Prev