Long Distance Lover

by Rylee Swann

  Jayson doesn’t fight back. He keeps his hands at his sides, trying to talk his way out. Unwilling to fight back against kids.

  One of the older boys rears back his arm, his hand in a fist.

  “Jayson, look out!” I try to warn him but the boys converge on Jayson and I’m caught in the middle.

  A sharp pain takes my breath away as I’m knocked off my feet.

  The shouting fades as the world goes black.

  14

  Jayson

  Although the doctor assured me that Dee is going to be alright, I don’t think I’ll believe it until I see her.

  Stepping into her hospital room is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. In some ways, harder than quitting drinking. I can’t bear to see the hurt and accusation in her eyes. I know it’ll be there. How can it not? I couldn’t control the situation and she suffered the consequences. I never expected stoners to even come close to violence. They’re usually too lazy. Too happy and content.

  I remind myself that it could have been much worse. Not that I really know how much damage a mild grade one concussion can do. That’s what she has, a mild grade one concussion. A concussion. Fuck, that sounds serious despite the word mild being added. She hit the concrete damned hard when she was pushed down. By accident, I’m guessing. The scuffle just got so out of hand so fast.

  Fuck this.

  It’s time to stop stalling. I’ve been standing in the hallway of the hospital, staring at the door to Dee’s room for far too long already.

  I push open the door, not quite ready to face the wrath of Dee. In an inane moment, I think that could be the name of a Star Wars movie.

  A nurse is in the room, scribbling on Dee’s chart. Gemma is also here—a soothing presence—and she nods when I step in the room. Dee’s eyes are closed. I’m thankful for the chance to get my bearings before the fury in them makes short work of me.

  Moving closer to the bed, I whisper to Gemma. “Is she sleeping?”

  “No, I’m not,” Dee says, and opens her eyes to glare at me. “What are you doing here?”

  Damn, it’s worse that I imagined. She can’t even stand the sight of me.

  She appears so frail and helpless lying in the hospital bed. A thin blue blanket is up to her chest, over most of an ugly green hospital gown. There’s a bandage covering what will probably become a nasty bump at her right temple and her cheek is scratched and swollen. She has an IV drip in her right arm, for what I can’t imagine. Might this be our Farewell to Arms? Wait. Didn’t that book have a horrible ending? I think I’d prefer The Wrath of Dee.

  “I uhh…wanted to see how you’re doing.” Lame. My words sound lame to my own ears. They must sound even worse to her.

  “My head hurts and my heart hurts. Satisfied?” She winces in pain as if to prove what she’s saying is the truth. “Get out. You’re making it worse.”

  I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. I should have insisted she not come. Somehow, I convinced her to trust me. But she can’t trust me, not yet. Now, she’s been hurt. She is quick to think the worst of me and I’ve given her plenty of reasons over the years to do just that. Despite all this, she’s cut me to the quick but I can’t just leave like this. “Dee, I’m so sorry…”

  The disgust on her face almost brings me to my knees.

  “Oh, you are, are you? You’re always so sorry. So apologetic. The fact is, nothing has changed. After all these years. The same pattern is playing out. Except this time instead of only heartache I get a headache to go along with it.” She sighs and turns away from me. “Just get out.”

  I want to tell her she’s being irrational. I want to shout that I am different, that I have changed. But with a look, she shuts me down. I glance to Gemma and she gives an awkward little half shrug, like she wishes she wasn’t a witness to this scene. Yet, I think I still have a champion in her. That somehow she’ll help to turn this around.

  Gritting my teeth, I walk to the door, pull it open and leave the room. Before the door shuts behind me, I catch Dee’s words.

  “If you take his side, Gemma, I swear…”

  Uncertain what to do, and still needing to speak to Gemma about her son, I sigh and slump against the wall. Here is as good a place as any to wallow in self-pity while I wait to find out if Gemma will leave the room anytime soon. Insidious tendrils of failure twist through me. I couldn’t keep Isaac from doing drugs and I probably just hammered down the last nail in the Dee and me relationship coffin.

  What do I do now? Turn tail and run back to Canada? I grimace as the faces of the kids I’m working with here rise before my eyes. I enjoy my job but more than that, it’s a necessary one. I can’t desert them. Mountainside Recovery is understaffed as it is. To leave would be condemning these kids to a lifetime of abuse with no real future. Just like me. Nearly forty years old and only now starting my life.

  Damnit! I’m going to end the pattern, as Dee called it, right here and now. I’m not giving up. I’m not running away. Dee and I are soulmates. We belong together. I believe that with all my heart and soul. This…this is just a setback. There’s still time. I can make this work. The question is, how? Fuck it, I’ll think of something. I’ve been making this all up as I go anyway.

  Needing to move, I shove away from the wall, and that’s when the door to Dee’s room opens and Gemma steps out. Facing her, I make my best attempt at squaring my shoulders. “How—”

  Gemma waves off my opening gambit at conversation. “Wow, is she ever pissed at you.” I sigh and lower my eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. This is a good thing.”

  I risk a glance back up at her. “What? How?”

  She chuckles. It really seems the wrong reaction to the situation. “She’s too pissed at you. It’s way out of proportion to the events. Did you ever hear the expression…oh, how does it go? Never mind, I don’t remember. But it’s basically something like the anger is proportionate to the love.”

  “Shakespeare.”

  “What?” Confusion clouds Gemma’s eyes.

  “The lady doth protest too much, me thinks.” Good old Willy the Shakes has a quote for every occasion.

  “Ah, yes.” She smiles and pats my arm. “Dee is madly in love with you.”

  Her words rock me to the core. I want them to be true but after what happened it seems too crazy. “No, that can’t be…”

  “Yes, it can be and it is. That woman loves you. She’s just trying to protect her heart.” She gives me a wry smile. “You have disappointed her a few times in the past. The question is, do you love her enough to help her work through her fears?”

  I nod, the tiniest spark of hope igniting in my chest. “I love her with every fiber of my being. I’d die for her. I promise you that. But I don’t deserve—”

  “No, there are no buts in this, and you do deserve her, got me?” She reaches out and taps my chest above where my heart resides. “You’re a good man. Don’t you forget it. Look at what you’re doing for Isaac. You’re going above and beyond for him. I’m sure it’s not within your job description to track him down whenever he runs off like a fool. I don’t doubt you’re doing the same for the other kids you work with. For goddess’s sake, you’re saving my son’s life! And, no less, the balls on you to up and leave your country to come here… You knew nothing of her life today but you didn’t let that stop you. That’s a hell of a thing you’ve done.”

  “It’s my grand gesture to her.” The words are a bare whisper.

  “It’s what?” she asks, straining for my response.

  “My grand gesture,” I say with a little more force. She continues to look at me quizzically, so I explain. “Ten years ago, when things were ending between us for the last time, she asked me for a grand gesture. Something that would show her that she meant more to me than alcohol. Something that put me out there where my fear lived. That there was some kind of hope for us no matter how small.” I pause as my heart seizes, the memory almost too painful to go on. I take a shuddering breath and co
ntinue. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even come up with anything. I was still drinking, still lying. Do you know I forced her to break up with me in an email? I was too terrified to answer the phone when she called.”

  Gemma nods slowly. “That’s all in the past.”

  “Yeah, but Dee hasn’t forgotten and neither have I. That’s why I’m here. Emailing her or calling her this time simply wasn’t enough. I had to put myself on the line. I had to give her a grand gesture. That I failed the first time stuck with me in the worst way possible. I vowed to make up for it. I have to make up for it.”

  “Even if you fail again?”

  “Huh? You just said she’s in love with me.” My heart lurches as a craving for a drink hits me like a hurricane. I break out in a cold sweat and my hands clench into fists. I will not succumb to this. I won’t.

  “Yes, but you should know Dee is a very stubborn woman.”

  I laugh, and the craving subsides somewhat. “Yes, I do know. I’m just as stubborn.”

  Gemma laughs along with me then turns serious again. “Alright. You’re going to fight for her. Now, about Isaac? Are you going to turn him in?”

  “No, of course not,” I say quickly to allay her fears. “We had a breakthrough right before…well, before. I can get through to him now. I know what he needs.”

  A sweet rush of relief crosses over Gemma’s face. “Thank goddess. I was so worried. What can I do to help?”

  I appreciate the question. Some of the parents of my kids either don’t give a damn, aren’t around enough, or are such piss poor role models it would be better if they weren’t around at all. Gemma, on the other hand, is a good mother who just needs a little guidance.

  “First, you’re going to add a week to his grounding.” Gemma rolls her eyes with a grimace and I commiserate. “Yeah, he’s going to love that. But it has to be done. He broke your rules and has to understand that doesn’t fly anymore.”

  “Alright. What else?”

  “Put the boy on a diet. He needs to raise his self-esteem. Part of that is how he views himself physically. He needs to lose that baby fat.” The surprise on her face is comical but I don’t comment, giving her a moment to chew on it. “Most importantly, you’re going to have a sit-down with him, have a heart to heart talk. While things are stricter, don’t let him forget how much you love and care for him. You need to be his confidant, instead of the kids he’s hanging with recently. He needs to understand why he’s being given these boundaries but that he can and should be able to go to you with anything. That you’ll always love him no matter what. Okay?”

  She takes a moment to reply, and I can imagine her brain whirring so fast it causes smoke to rise. Then she nods. “Thank you, Jayson. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “Aw, shucks, ma’am,” I say, and tip an imaginary cowboy hat.

  She tsks at me. Why do people always tsk at me?

  “Dee will be in the hospital overnight,” she says. “I’m taking her home tomorrow and I’ll feed Mac tonight. Give her a little space while I talk to her, okay?”

  It’s my turn to thank her, and I do.

  15

  December

  It’s good to be home. I only spent one night in the hospital, and that was more than enough for me. If not for the helpful meds they gave me, I wouldn’t have slept for five minutes there. I chuckle to myself at the irony as Gemma hands me a bottled water and a toasted, buttered English muffin.

  “What’s so funny?” she asks, returning my smile. Things have been strained between us since the hospital. She went and took Jayson’s side, just like I knew she would, and she won’t shut up about me giving him another chance.

  “Oh, nothing important. Just silly thoughts.” I open the bottle and take a swig. The water goes down like a smooth, wet river. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was and a wave of almost drunken relief sweeps through me.

  Of course, that makes me think of Jayson, and I smile.

  Damnit, don’t smile, Dee. You hate him right now. Don’t you forget it.

  “About Jayson?” Gemma says in a hesitant voice.

  I glare at her. “Cut it out already, will you? I’m done with him. Got it?”

  She peers at me from where she’s moved to the other side of the room. I almost laugh. It’s like she’s trying to escape my wrath. I don’t mean to take it out on her but I also can’t take talking about him anymore. It hurts too much. I let myself believe that ten years later, it was different this time. I want to throw up, and not from the concussion. Over the years with him, I told myself it was different far too many times.

  It never was different.

  No matter how many times I tried to convince myself that it would be. He either told such an elaborate and hurtful lie that I’d break up with him, or he’d disappear on a week-long bender that I would eventually break up with him for. Or there were the countless times he got a bug up his ass and broke up with me.

  Gemma’s eyes are on me as I take a bite of muffin. It’s all I could think of that didn’t make my stomach turn. She wanted to cook me some elaborate dinner but I put my foot down. I’m not even sure my stomach could take it right now. Her eyes are full of both warmth and accusation. She accused me of being irrational about Jayson. It’s just not true. Right? Damn. Why can’t I be sure of anything where he’s concerned?

  “What? I told you not to take his side and that’s what you did. Right, Gemma? Right?”

  She takes a seat on the recliner. “You did. But I’m not taking sides at all. What I’ve been saying is that you’re not allowing yourself to look at the full picture.”

  “Yeah, his side. He doesn’t have a side to stand on!” I take a big gulp of water and start coughing. It went down the wrong pipe and I think I’m choking. Wouldn’t the joke really be on me if I died while wasting my breath talking about Jayson?

  “Oh, no, sweetie. Stand up. Stand up, it’ll help.”

  As I stand, she rushes over and pats me on the back. I cough and cough like I’m hawking up a lung, until I’m dizzy with the effort. I collapse against Gemma, who holds me up and keeps patting me on the back like I’m a baby. Maybe I am. I’ve been doing enough whining lately.

  Finally, the coughing subsides and she helps me back onto the couch. Tears stream down my face and, exhausted, I lay my head back against the cool leather and shut my eyes.

  Gemma hands me a soft napkin or a tissue. I don’t open my eyes, suddenly too tired to wipe away the tears. I want five minutes of peace. I want to go back to before Jayson walked into my life again. I want to return to a time when I thought I was happy.

  What? When was that?

  When did I think I was happy? I thought I was back when Jayson and I were together. But then we broke up. When I moved up here and spent time healing, I also thought I was happy.

  Two days ago, I would have tentatively said I’m happy when I’m with Jayson. Damnit, I can’t even differentiate when I thought I was happy from when I actually was happy.

  “Gemma, does Jayson make me happy?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I’m too tired, both physically and emotionally, to make the big decisions. Heaven help me, let someone or something else guide the way.

  “Yes,” she says without hesitation.

  I wrinkle up my nose and peer at her with one eye. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Simple. Since he’s been here, I’ve never seen you happier.” She returns to her seat and folds her hands in her lap. “There’s been something missing, something you’ve been trying to fill without success.”

  “A hole in my heart.”

  “Yes.”

  “But he put the hole there.” I sigh and sink into the cushions, deflated in mind and spirit.

  “You’ve been demanding perfection from him since he got here. I understand that. He hurt you badly and you can tolerate nothing less. But consider this, no one is perfect. You’re blaming him for what happened behind the pizza parlor. But weren’t you the one w
ho insisted on going with him? Didn’t he try to talk you out of it?”

  Gemma went on before I could answer.

  “He’s saving my son’s life. I made some poor parenting decisions and Jayson is helping me to straighten everything out for Isaac’s sake. I know how hard it is for you to trust, Dee, but might you be subconsciously stacking the deck against Jayson? Giving in to a self-fulfilling prophecy of him failing again? Is it possible you’re afraid of him not failing?”

  “Stop it, enough.” I raise a hand for emphasis. Maybe she’s right, and I’m a little terrified. “You’ve made your point. Got through my thick skull.” I crack an eye open and look at her. “I think my phone is on my night table. Could you get it for me?”

  With a smile, she jumps up to retrieve it, placing it in my hand a moment later. Struggling into a sitting position, I take another bite of my muffin and another careful sip of water. Then, with a shaking finger, I press the speed dial for Jayson.

  He picks up on the first ring. “Hey, how are you?” The concern in his voice washes over me.

  A new deluge of water rushes down my cheeks. “Better,” I say, and swallow hard before I choke up. “Gemma has been kicking my ass about umm…what happened. So, I thought I’d call to get her off my case.” Gemma harrumphs loud enough for Jayson to hear.

  “Tell her I said thank you,” he says after a short, uncomfortable laugh.

  I glare at Gemma. “Go make yourself useful and feed Mac.” She laughs and leaves the room, giving me privacy to talk to Jayson. “Yeah, anyway, I…umm thought if you weren’t too busy maybe you could come by one night later this week? But give me a little more time to rest up.” Heat rises in my cheeks. The fear that he’ll reject the offer terrifies me. Maybe I am irrational.