Finding You

by S. K. Hartley

  Logan must have mentioned the nightmares to my mom, the pain so evident on her face as a doctor uttered the words Delayed Onset PTSD. They said I had survivor guilt. My dad had asked me to go to the store with him that night, and I should have been in that car with him, I was supposed to die with him. Instead, he died alone.

  Weekly therapy sessions had helped me manage the feeling of guilt that I harbored, but my guilt would be a permanent scar, it would never truly disappear. The nightmares were in a war of their own, flanking me when I would least expect it, dragging me into the depths of hell once more, forcing me to feel the guilt.

  As the years rolled by, the nightmares slowed, gradually making less of an appearance in my life. The only time I have any nightmares now is if something triggers them. One of the last times I had a nightmare was when a horrific car crash had killed a whole family. The news had broadcast the wreckage, showing the carnage that was left behind. I haven’t watched the news since.

  “Hey guys.” Logan said as he took his seat on the bench “Where’s Low?”

  “I am right here, man whore!” Low shouted as she stomped up behind him, pulling him off his seat by his wrist. She plunged her finger into his chest, “You need to either keep it in your pants or stop screwing my damn friends, Logan!”

  “What are you squealing about now, Low?” Logan said with his eyebrows raised, taunting her.

  “I just had Erika crying on my shoulder because you didn’t call her after you screwed her, twice!” Low spat, I winced. Logan was going to get his ass kicked by Low and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “Which one’s Erika again?” Logan asked, clearly amused by Low’s sudden outburst as he chuckled, taunting her further.

  “Ugh you’re so freaking disgusting, Logan!” Low spat, exasperated knowing she was fighting a losing battle. Taking her probing finger out of his chest, she took her place on the picnic bench and sighed. “I’m not finished with you, Logan White.” she muttered.

  “So, Ace is having a party tomorrow. Who’s in?” Logan said rubbing his hands together with a perfect smile on his face. Ugh, a frat party was the last thing I wanted to think about, especially today of all days.

  “Count me in, dude.” Tate replied only opening one eye, clearly enjoying the heat against his skin.

  “Neva, do you want to go?” Low asked. Turning to my friend, she looked really excited and she was pulling out the puppy dog eyes. Damn, how could I say no to that?

  “Sure, listen I have to be somewhere, I will meet you back at the dorm, Low.” I said trying to catch Tate’s attention as Low nodded in understanding “Tate, are you coming with me?” I asked knowing what his answer would be. I was met with a brick wall of silence. I sighed. I knew he wouldn’t want to go, but I had to ask him anyway.

  It was ten years to the day that my father was cruelly taken away from us. The pain was still there, just not as raw as it once was. I miss him every day, especially now I am older, but I could never seem to get Tate to come with me, I didn’t know why maybe it was just too hard.

  “I am finished for the day so I am going to head out.” I said standing up “I’ll see you guys later.” I said as I started making my way towards my dorm room.

  “Hey Neva, wait up!” Logan called from behind me. Turning around, I couldn’t help but stare at his overly muscular body twisting and contracting as he ran towards me, sweat adorning his masculine chest.

  “What’s up?” I asked as we started walking, making our way through the throngs of students.

  “Do you want a ride?” He asked, putting his t-shirt back on before placing his hand on my shoulder. He stopped me mid stride as he looked into my eyes, giving me silent understanding. I had never learned how to drive, it was just something I didn’t want to do for obvious reasons. I also hated getting into a car, Logan and Tate were the only people I trusted to give me a ride and I was thankful Logan understood that today I needed him.

  “Sure.” I said “Thank you Logan.” He understood why today was so important to me. No one should have to live without their father, no matter what their age. Logan understood it more than most, his dad left him and his mom when he was just three years old. Being an only child, Logan only had Tate to lean on for any type of male role model in his life.

  I tentatively got in the Jeep Logan and Tate shared and buckled my seat belt. Logan started the engine as he handed me his iPod to pick a song to play. I swiftly found the one I was looking for. It was the beautiful sound of guitar strumming that hit my ears first, slowly followed by the sweet soulful voice of Dave Mathews Band as he sung the heart-shattering lyrics of “Crash Into Me.”

  Logan’s smooth voice flooded my ears as he quietly sang the lyrics of the song that held a deeper meaning to me. It was one of the first songs I ever tried to replicate with my dad’s guitar. It took me endless hours trying to get it right as I adjusted my fingertips, trying desperately to find the right notes. I have loved the song ever since. Looking out the window, I saw the familiar long, winding roads that adorned glorious landscapes of perfectly green blades of grass with the most beautiful wildflowers bursting with vibrant colors. Logan didn’t need to ask the directions or where we were going, he knew without even having to confirm it.

  Familiar and distinctive trees surrounded us, arching as they reached amazing heights, enclosing us in an amazing vision of summer. Disappearing into a tunnel filled with never-ending shades of green, highlighted by the magnificent rays of sunshine, we made our way down the winding road to the place that held so much significance to my family.

  It was the lone standing wooden swing, gently swaying in the warm breeze that I recognized first. I realized I hadn’t been here in so long that it made my heart hurt. The grass was trimmed back and the flowers in the flowerbed that was placed underneath the tree were magnificent. A single fence surrounded the plot separated it from the adjoining farming field that housed horses and cows. Memories of many family days flooded my senses as I took in the place that brought so much happiness and so much sorrow. My dad and I had stumbled upon this place on one of our day adventures in the car and I was mesmerized with it. Dad must have felt the same way, because only a week later he bought the plot of land from the farmer who owned it and put up the separating fence, and even installed a small wooden swing. We would spend hours on that little plot having picnics and playing silly games. Tears filled my eyes as Logan parked the Jeep in a space near the plot.

  Taking a shaky breath, I looked over at Logan, whose face was a picture of sadness. I smiled at him, trying to reassure him that I was okay. He nodded in reply, his silent signal letting me know that he was there if I needed him. Stepping out of the Jeep, I made my way over and took a seat on the ground next to the large tree. We had scattered my dad’s ashes here, it was a place we all loved and we knew he would feel at home here. Taking a deep breath, I tried to swallow the lump already forming in my throat.

  “Hey, daddy.” I said in a whisper “It’s been ten years since you were taken from us and it still hurts, it hurts so much.” Sighing, I pushed the pain away, trying to block it out. “Logan is here too. I’m sorry Tate couldn’t come, he is just as stubborn as mom. Mom is doing okay, but you already know that, I can see from the plot that she has already been here.” She was always fussing over us. A lone tear escaped my eyes. I swiftly wiped it away before continuing, “I love you so much, daddy. God, I miss you so much.” Tears streamed down my face as the lump in my throat tightened, causing sobs to escape my mouth as I broke down with my face in my hands.

  I was suddenly aware of warm hands wrapping round my waist as a strong body held me from behind. Logan’s head rested on my shoulder as he tried to comfort me, like he had done so many times before.

  “Hi Brandon.” Logan started “I have to tell you, your daughter is one strong woman. She has had to deal with so much in her life and I know that you would be so proud of her, but she thinks I can’t see it, the pain and the sorrow. It’s there in her eyes. I am going to t
ake her home now, I’m sorry we didn’t stay long, but it’s so hard for her. We will see you soon.” Logan finished, causing gut-wrenching sobs to escape me. I was suddenly in Logan’s arms as he carried me to the Jeep, holding me close to him.

  I noticed Logan had turned the music down in the Jeep, but as he placed me in my seat and made his way around to his, I could hear the beautiful voice of Jason Walker singing “Cry.” As the lyrics tore through my soul, causing the tears to fall harder, I tried to hide my face under my hair to stop Logan from seeing me as a quivering mess.

  “Hey.” He said softly, moving the hair out from my eyes and tucking it behind my ear “Please don’t hide from me, Neva,” he pleaded. His face twisted in pain. It was as if he was feeling the pain for the ten-year-old me and pain for being unable to fix it. Ever so slowly he took me by my waist, pulling me on his lap. I could still hear the lyrics from Jason Walker, singing as if the song was made for us in this moment. I threw my face into Logan’s neck, sobbing uncontrollably as he tried to soothe me, comfort me, and take away my pain. Large hands smoothed my hair away from my face as I drenched his t-shirt in ugly tears. Pulling back, I looked at this man who was so frustrating but so perfect.

  Suddenly, he was too close. His deep brown eyes were filled with unshed tears as if feeling my pain, trying to pull the pain away from me. His hands slowly made their way up to my face, taking it into both hands as he wiped away my tears with the pads of his thumbs. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t focus, but if he stopped, I don’t think I could take it. He slowly ran his fingers through my hair, pulling me closer, so close I could feel his breath against my lips, sending shivers through every fiber of my being.

  “Neva.” He whispered, before ever so slowly pressing his lips against my own, sending a slow-rising heat through my body as he slowly ran his tongue along my bottom lip seeking entry, silently pleading with me.

  Logan White was kissing me. I was delirious in a lust filled haze that blanketed the pain I felt just moments ago. I finally let him in, exploring my mouth as he slowly stroked my tongue with his, claiming me. Suddenly, he was no longer the boy who protected me in my darkest hours, or the boy who had a reputation with women. This was someone new, and my god I wanted to know him.

  He moaned into my mouth as I let the lust engulf me in a way that made me want him just as much as he wanted me in this moment. We were all tongues, lips and hands as the temperature in the Jeep sizzled between us. I had never been kissed like this.

  This was so wrong. I was kissing Logan only moments after sobbing into his neck. What am I doing? Pulling back, I broke the kiss. Searching his eyes, I tried to find a hint of just what he was thinking.

  “I’m sorry Neva.” He said bowing his head. “I don’t know what came over me, I’m so sorry.” How could I stay upset with that? It was a moment of madness, weakness or just insanity. I didn’t know which, but what I did know is that I didn’t want it to spoil our relationship as friends.

  “It’s okay, I was just as much to blame Logan. Let’s just put it down to high emotions and a moment of weakness?” I asked, trying not to hurt his feelings even though all I could think about was that kiss. Stop it, Neva!

  “Logan, can you take me to my mom’s house?” I asked, hoping to take his mind off what had happened. But he just nodded in response, clearly still reeling about what we had just done.

  The drive to my mom’s was uneventful, but all I could think about was that damn kiss. The way he held my face ever so softly, the way he kissed me as though he was worshiping me. Touching my lips with my fingertips, I could feel how swollen they were, bruised from such a luscious kiss, pushing my mind into over drive. There was no use denying it, I loved that kiss.

  Logan pulled the Jeep into my mom’s driveway, which pulled me out of my thoughts as he killed the engine, making the Jeep seem oddly silent. I couldn’t move, it felt as though my heart was keeping me in my seat, willing me not to leave. Turning to look at Logan, his head rested against the steering wheel with his eyes closed, causing his dark lashes to rest against his cheek bones.

  “Are you okay, Logan?” I asked tentatively, not knowing how he would react.

  “What? Yeah sorry, long drive,” He said by way of explanation, as he brought his head up from the steering wheel, adding his breathtaking smile for good measure.

  “Good.” I smiled, knowing that we were okay made me feel much better “So I will see you at the party tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll see you there Neva.” He said as he ran his hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end, making him look even more impossibly sexy. Stop it, Neva!

  Nodding, I jumped out of the Jeep, waving at Logan as he drove away, making his way to the dorm he shared with Tate. Sighing, I started walking towards my mom’s porch, running that kiss over and over in my mind. Shit!

  “Neva, is that you sweetheart?” I heard my mom holler from the back yard, she must have heard Logan’s truck pull up.

  “Yeah, it’s me, momma.” I shouted, staring up at the two story house that stood before me.

  After dad died, our world was turned upside down and inside out, mom was struggling and was such a mess for so long. The heartbreak was like a dark smog resting heavily on her shoulders, the unforgiving turmoil she was facing was apparent, both physically and emotionally.

  It was a couple of days after my father’s funeral when I noticed something was wrong. Suddenly, Tate was cleaning the house, ironing clothes and cooking dinner. He had taken some of the extra weight from mom to help her cope, to help her grieve for the husband she lost so tragically, and far too soon.

  But mom’s grief started taking its toll on us, the house, the bills, our relationships. Tate tried to help as much as he could, but he was still just a kid himself. He picked up a paper route and gave mom all the cash from that just to make ends meet. He used his weekends to clean cars and mow lawns just to earn that little bit extra for mom, to try and keep a roof over our heads. But the cracks were showing quickly. Without my father’s income and mom not being able to get out of bed some days, the bills started to take over.

  Tate was freaking out, I had no idea what was going on, but he was saying something about having to move away and leave all our friends behind. On top of the grief we were trying to get through, this was something we didn’t need. I remember a man coming to the house, I didn’t know who he was, but he had a business suit on and didn’t look too happy. Tate pulled me away from the door and told me to go to my room, stopping me from seeing the man. But, I was intrigued. I sat on the staircase, watching as Tate slammed the door in the man’s face. My brother’s tears threatened to spill, wiping his nose quickly with the back of his sleeve. A mixture of pain and anger quickly taking over his features, he picked up a pile of papers and charged up the staircase, his footsteps loud against the wooden floor above me. I quickly realized he was in mom’s bedroom, the usual loud creak of her door penetrating my ears. I don’t know what Tate had done or said to mom that day, but only three hours later, the house was up for sale and mom was back in the kitchen, cooking.

  In six weeks the house was sold, the bills were paid, and we had moved into a smaller house just three streets away. To this day, I still have no idea what Tate had said or done when he walked into mom’s bedroom, but what I do know is that whatever happened … He brought our mom back.

  Now, standing on my mom’s porch, I looked over the house that we lived in as a family of three. It was just as stunning as the day we moved in. The white panels showcased large bay windows on the bottom story, while smaller matching windows lined the second. A large, wooden porch wrapped around the entire house, enfolding around it perfectly, as if embracing it in a warm hug. Moving my gaze, my eyes landed on the beautiful front garden. It was pruned and weeded to an inch of its life, but my god, I never tired of seeing the amazing technicolor of flowers that lay perfectly within the soil. I smiled, knowing my mom would have already pruned and watered the front garden and was now prob
ably in the back doing the same thing.

  “Can you bring me the Lavender on your way around, sweetie?” Mom shouted, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “Sure, momma.”

  Mom had picked up gardening as soon as we moved here ten years ago. She said she needed a hobby, I guess it was her way of keeping busy when she wasn’t working. Before dad died, she had worked as a successful project manager of a large interior design firm, but when tragedy struck our family, mom left. Once the house sold and we paid everything off, mom had enough money to start up her own small business within the small town. She was now the most sought after interior designer in Spring Water.

  Picking up the lavender from the porch bench, I made my way around to the back yard, the scent of the flowers made me smile. Mom always smelt like lavender. Stopping just short of the gate that surrounded the back yard, I watched as mom crouched down on the ground. Digging in the freshly laid soil with a content smile on her face, I stood and admired the woman who had done so much for Tate and me since my father’s death.

  Lorena James was stunningly beautiful, with naturally wavy blonde hair and piercing green eyes, she was striking. Even with the amount of baking she does, she still manages to keep her perfect figure that matches her 5ft 6in frame.

  I watched as she stopped digging and took in her garden, smiling. It seemed she had an eye for landscaping too. The garden was by no means huge, maybe around a fifth of an acre, but with mom’s design ideas she managed to make it look a lot bigger. She had planted a wide range of flowers, all perfectly arranged by color and tone, which trailed down the left side of the garden, while on the right stood the small oak tree that held a lot of memories. The tree was surrounded by a man-made pond, with its own mini waterfall. It was breathtaking. And when the sun fell, the whole garden would light up with beautiful little fairy lights. It was mom’s little piece of paradise.