What Brings Tomorrow: Book Three

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What Brings Tomorrow: Book Three Page 4

by RJ Heaton


  “Joe after I drop Nik off at therapy today, I am running to the store to buy some dishes.” Ethan reaches out and squeezes my knee when he hears that I have therapy today. I’m sure that he already knew that, but it’s a comforting touch.

  “Fine,” Joe mutters without looking up at her. I highly doubt that Joe cares one iota about Heather picking up dinnerware, but Heather likes to keep her husband in the know of what she’s doing. It’s a simple dynamic of how they make their relationship work.

  Breakfast is uneventful, which in my book is very nice. Ethan announces he needs to take a quick shower and get headed to work. The idea of crawling into the shower with him sounds nice, but I really have something I need to do. So, I let him shower alone. I grab my purse from the side table where I had set it down in the living room, and push my wheels forward until I’m hidden in my room. I can hear the shower running from the bathroom adjacent to my room, and I know that for the most part I’m alone.

  I dial my attorney’s number and listen for his receptionist to pick up. After the fourth ring, a polite woman’s melodious voice comes through the receiver, “Higgins, Bausch and Schapp’s office, how may I help you?”

  “Yes, is Jim Schapp in?”

  “May I ask who is calling?” she asks politely.

  “This is Nicole Cooper.”

  “Of course Mrs. Cooper I’ll connect you to his office. Can you please hold?”

  “Yep,” I answer still cringing from the Mrs. Cooper title she just used. Soon it’ll only be Ms. Cooper.

  “Hello, Nicole,” a male voice says through the phone.

  “Good morning Jim.”

  “What can I help you with?”

  I feel like I’m on the verge of falling apart. “I’m afraid I was just chased into a dark cave and left without a flashlight.” I say worriedly.

  I hear him clear his throat before speaking, “well, huh not sure I know what you mean. Can you perhaps enlighten me?”

  “I mean that I’m stuck in a damn dark hole with a beast guarding the entrance and I’m stuck with no light at the end of the tunnel!” I say exacerbated.

  “Alright, alright. Slow down and let’s start at the beginning.” I take a deep breath in knowing I’m ranting and making no sense at all. I look at the blank wall and get lost in the memories of it all. Trying again my story begins by telling him about Sean breaking in and landing his butt in jail.

  “Now, how are we going to get divorced?” I ask in disbelief at the F5 tornado of my life.

  “Don’t worry,” he says softly chuckling into the phone—actually chuckling—while I’m having a meltdown. “Mr. Cooper sealed his fate with his little break-in act.”

  Visions of my husband flash in my mind. Sean looked like he was out of his mind two nights ago. Anyone that can break in and destroy personal property of his brother and sister-in law’s in attempt to get his wife back has to be delusional. In god’s name I still can’t figure out what he had been thinking. His actions just solidify I’m doing the right thing by divorcing his crazy ass. “How does this all work with him in jail? I mean can we still get the divorce done?”

  “We will need a mittimus document, but mostly it goes just as if he were not in jail. With him being detained he will be unavailable to appear at the hearings, that’s all. If he still refuses to sign, with his new charges and being behind bars,” he pauses for a moment and clicks his tongue. “I’m glad we had filed that restraining order on him, once the judge looks over your case there is no doubt in my mind that he will most likely sign off on this disaster. Since the house is in both of your names, and there are minor children involved and Sean will clearly be unable to take care of his affairs from his newly acquired accommodations, it will be given to you and the judge will grant you custody.”

  My head is spinning. I will get the house that I’m not sure I want, but … that means Miss Perky boobs is out. That’s a definite bonus in my mind. That little snot does not get to stay in my house with my son after all of this. Even if she happened to be the sweetest little peach in town, I’m not being pushed out! I’ll sell the house before that happens. I smile thinking about how that conversation will go.

  ***

  The song Human by Chrisina Perri comes through the car speakers, and I get lost in her words. I embrace every lyric as if she specifically wrote it for me. I would hold the weight of the world if anyone I care about asked me to, but I do bleed when I fall down. My eyes travel over Heather’s arms and ascend up over her shoulders to her face as she stares at the road. There have been so many days during my recovery that I thought that I was the only one having to deal with it. A bitter loneliness has consumed me, but how unfair of me to think that. I have never once been alone through any of it. My loving family has been right by my side through the thick and thin of it. Including, getting hurt by the outside elements of my life. … And Shad, the man barely goes home to his own house. He has been right there with us facing all the adversities as if it’s his job. A longing that I haven’t seen him since last night flickers, but I know. Nope, I am most definitely not alone. “Thank you Heather. I don’t deserve family like you.”

  Heather moves her eyes from the road for a moment to glance at me. “Why are you always so hard on yourself? It drives me crazy when you degrade yourself like that. Nicole Cooper you are an amazing woman. We’re all lucky to have each other. Mom and dad taught us what it’s like to be human and to care for one another—to love. Don’t tell me for an instant you wouldn’t do the same for anyone of us?” She rants. Her words strike home because she’s dead on. I would stand right in the midst of a hurricane for my loved ones.

  “Just … thank you Heather.” I say again. That warrants a smile. I look back out the windshield and watch the road as we head to the hospital. Summer is in full swing. I wish I was taking advantage of the beautiful weather, rather than spending my days dealing with attorneys, therapy and psycho ex-husbands.

  Getting back into therapy seems like the last thing I should be doing, but Heather insisted I keep up on my appointments. She had also aptly reminded me of my relapse not that long ago. I can’t let myself do that again.

  We get inside and my bubbly, gum-smacking, nurse Tiffany takes me to the dressing room. I’m hoping the water helps soak into my aching bones. Last night was not much better than the night before. Numeral times I woke with sweat soaking my skin from the multiple nightmares that riddled my sleep. Each dream had escalated from Sean breaking in to killing Joe, Heather, Lexie until Ramp charged in and violently took him down. The dreams in a way are worse than what really happened that night. At least when my eyes are open I know that everyone I love is still here—safe. Having Ethan next to me last night helped soothe the ache when I would feel his presence, but I know he won’t always be there every night. I need to get the nighttime me in a peaceful state. Tiffany accidently scratches my leg with one of her fingernails and it brings me back to reality.

  “Oh gosh, I am so sorry.” She gushes feeling appalled.

  The little scratch is nothing compared to other wounds I have been afflicted with. I look at the tiny scratch, not even a drop of blood forms, and then I look at my other leg where a dark red, raised scar stops my heart for a second. I wonder if the shock of the accident and the scars will ever eventually fade. “It’s not a problem.” I reassure her. “It’s a tiny scratch and it didn’t hurt.” Tiffany’s shoulders relax, and she starts babbling about the time her “once boyfriend” had tried to kick the covers off and scratched her leg with his toenail. The gist of the story I guess was that it was a bad cut and it ended up getting infected from the bacteria under his toenails. The story actually has my stomach churning with disgust, but when it comes to Tiffany I try to only half listen to her ramblings. I’m saved when she wheels me out to the pool and I see my handsome therapist. His smile draws me in.

  “Hi, Ethan!” Tiffany says enthusiastically. An unwarranted wave of jealousy rolls over my skin. There is no call for my snippy attitude toward
her. There is no reason for her to possibly think that Ethan and I would be involved. For one, I’m his patient, and second, our age gap. I shouldn’t get mad at her for appreciating his physique. I do it every time I see him.

  “You’re getting so much stronger Nik.” I smile at his compliment.

  “Thanks to you,” I admit quietly.

  “No more water for you. We’re heading to the floor.” Ethan beams. I’m nervous for the change. At least in the water if I do a face plant the extent of the pain is minimal. If I biff it on the floor it will smart a whole heck of a lot more. “Stop fretting Nikki. Do you think I will let you fall?” I shake my head no, knowing the truth of his words. Ethan does this for a living. This is why I trust to open a business with him—he knows what he’s doing. I let out the breath I was holding. I need to learn to relax. “Good girl,” he coaxes in my ear. “And although I would love to help you change, I’m not allowed in the women’s locker room so I am going to go find someone to help you get changed and then we will meet on the floor.”

  “Okay,” I agree.

  Ethan helps me to my wheelchair before going and doing exactly that. I’m grateful it is not Miss. Bubbly. I’m not in the mood to listen to another one of her odd stories and then the fact that I know she likes Ethan; I get green with jealousy by the way she looks at him.

  After I am dressed back into my street clothing, Ethan is waiting outside of the dressing room. He wheels me over to two bars running parallel to each other, at hips height. If they had pushed me to these in May I would have panicked and then laughed in their faces, but now I stare them down with set determination in mind. The two bars will not frighten me. I know that I can do this. Ethan edges my wheelchair closer until I am centered right between them. “In a moment, I want you to reach out and use the two bars as leverage to a standing position. After you have your footing, I want you to keep your hands steady on the bars as you walk to the end. If you’re not too tired I want you to turn around and come back. I know you can do this baby,” he adds in a soft whisper brushing over my ear. “I’ll be with you the whole way. If you get tired let me know. I don’t want you to fall.”

  I don’t turn my head to look at him. I know that Ethan will catch me if I fall. I nod my head so he knows that I’m ready, and I mumble, “Okay.” It’s a good thing that I don’t shoot laser beams my intense stare would’ve had the wooden poles turned to ash by now. I’m so resolute that I am positive I will be able to make multiple passes before I get too tired. I reach out and grab the bars and push myself so I am standing between them. Standing has become much easier and I seem to be a lot sturdier on my two legs. Before the accident not once would I have ever thought how hard it is to take a step, but now that it’s not a mindless motion—I have to use my brain to tell my leg to lift, bend knee, set foot down. I feel Ethan’s presence behind me as I make my leg lift to take my first step—one of the biggest steps of my new life. I wasn’t going to look at him, but I can’t help it I peer over my shoulder at him and he winks at me, I take a calming gulp of oxygen. I know that I can do this. Lately, I have even been able to stand for a few minutes on both legs at Heather’s home. My leg is much stronger and cooperates more often than it did when I first woke from my coma. Well, in comparison to then, I guess it cooperates one-hundred percent more considering I couldn’t even get my toes to wiggle then.

  Slowly, I move forward.

  “I’ve been thinking, what if we somehow incorporated either Journey or opportunity into the name of our new clinic? It explains what we’re trying to do.” I mull over his words as I take another step forward using the bars as leverage to give me the strength to walk.

  “I like it.” I say with heavy breath. “Would you be opposed to me throwing Lance’s name into the title as well? I feel like I need to pay him tribute. After all, it is because of him for these new beginnings.”

  “I’m sure that he’d feel honored.”

  The corners of my lips tug up into a smile. Knowing Lance he would no doubt feel honored. “So… what about Lance journey clinic, or Montgomery Opportunity Therapy Clinic, MOTC?” He repeats my words aloud. It has a ring to it I think, as he lets it roll over his tongue a few times.

  “I think we have ourselves a business name; Montgomery Opportunity Therapy Clinic.” He says one last time. I let out a huff of breath from my excursion and the relief of another piece of the puzzle coming together.

  “You’re doing so well Nikki.” I lift my head and realize I have reached the end of the parallel bars. I’m tired and my ankles feel swollen, but not too tired that I feel like I am going to collapse. I need to push myself. Carefully, I turn around to head back the way I came from. When I turn, Ethan graces me with a bemusing smile with his one dimple ever present—ever sexy.

  Shyly, I smile up at him. Walking fifteen feet shouldn’t be a struggle for the average ordinary human, but to me it feels like I just walked a mile. I repeat the process up and back five times before I have to sit down in my wheelchair and rest.

  “Wow, that was absolutely amazing. How do you feel?”

  “I’m a bit tired.” I admit.

  “Rightfully so Nikki. You haven’t used some of those muscles for over five months. Did you know it only takes seven days for your muscles to start to atrophy?” I had never heard that tidbit of information before, but it makes sense. The hard part of his statement is believing that it has already been five months. It feels like yesterday when we got dressed up for the fundraiser event for Lance—in February—and then … the accident. I had been in that stupid coma resting for over two months and now it’s already the first part of July. Half of my year has disappeared in the blink of an eye.

  ***

  Heather is waiting for me when I get done with my therapy session. I smile at her when I see her. Today I feel resolved. I made a huge stride forward.

  “Good therapy session today?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. Her insinuation is not lost on me.

  “Very good,” I respond licking my lips vicariously. “I got to play with long wood poles for the last hour.” She throws her head back and laughs. It’s a delight knowing all of us can still laugh. “But really, Heather, I walked today.”

  “Really?” I nod my head rapidly indicating yes.

  “Oh, Nik that is wonderful!” She comes over to me and leans down to embrace me in a hug. Her warmth and tenderness engulfs me, until my phone rudely interrupts us. I look at my caller ID and see Jim Schapp’s number across my screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Nicole?”

  “Yes this is her.”

  “Oh good. This is Jim Schapp …” He clears his throat before continuing, “It seams to me Sean Cooper has gotten himself backed into a tight corner.”

  The way Jim Schapp, not only my divorce attorney but also the attorney handling my personal injury accident, talks about Sean I instinctively take it as an accusation. After being with Sean so long I started to believe everything was always my fault.

  “I didn’t put him there!” I snarl. The last couple of months away from him have given me more clarity, although I still have a lot of self-worth strengthening to build.

  “No, no you are most definitely correct Nikki. This is not your fault at all. I have to admit though I haven’t had this much commotion in my dreary office for a while. I never know what’s going to happen next and it’s making my life a lot more interesting.”

  “I’m glad we can be of entertainment for you.” I say dryly. “Next time you should provide the popcorn and everyone can sit in and watch the episode where Nikki’s head explodes from the chaos she calls her life.” Jim actually laughs. I know he’s trying to make light of the situation, but right about now I’m tired of the circus show. I just want a normal … as normal as it can be now—life.

  “I do have some good news. We have a hearing set up for Thursday July, sixteenth.”

  “This Thursday?” I do a mental calculation realizing that today is Monday. “As in like three days away? Does
that mean you got the paper work you needed to get filed, or whatever it is you do? That was fast.” I say still in shock considering we only had the discussion a few hours ago.

  “Yes, we have everything we need and probably by the end of next week you will be a free woman. I hate to say it, but him being incarcerated probably helped speed these proceedings up.” The words free come to life in my head like an orchestra playing a beautiful symphony just for me. The high notes sending me soaring in relief.

  “You need to be at the courthouse at Eight A.M. It shouldn’t take too long since there will not be witnesses for either party battling who should have this or that. The judge will more than likely separate your assets, however, with the circumstances of him facing multiple charges. I can’t promise, but …” He pauses for a second and I hear papers rustling in the background, “In my eyes I’d get the live-in out and you can decide if you want to live in your own house.” Today has been great, I wake up with Ethan, I start walking—with help, and then I get the best news I could get. All in a day, I smile.

  All the guilt I’ve been dragging myself down with. I need to let go,

  I was a good wife to Sean. He was the one who made a poor choice … not me. For the first time in my life I feel free like I’m not hiding in the recessed shadows of Sean. I’m my own person, I don’t have to have the approval of him. I don’t have to always wonder if I’m living up to his expectations. No woman should ever feel less than the man that supposedly loves her. “I’ll be there.” I say into the phone and hang up. Heather lifts her eyebrows in question. “We need to take a little drive.” I say.

  Six

  My stomach twists in knots as the car curves around the driveway. The home is physically the same; light grey siding, white trimming the windows, and roofline, and the shale rock covering the main entrance way. A lot of sweat and blood went into that wall. We hand picked each stone ourselves. I can almost feel the heat that had been blasting down on us that day as we climbed the loose rock. Ben discovered the easiest way to loosen the stone was to sit down above the stone and kick at it with his hands braced against the knife sharp rocks. Using the force of his legs it would slide down the steep embankment to where we had the truck parked. Once we had a large enough pile, we loaded up the pieces that were in good enough shape to take home. Unloading had been just as strenuous. I glance down at my leg and see the still very prominent scar on my ankle where I had dropped a chunk of rock. It was so sharp I hadn’t realized that it sliced my leg clear to the bone, until I noticed the blood flowing down over my shoe.

 

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