by M. Sembera
Shouting right back, I said, “Oh, you’re mad about a little rub on your side? How the hell do you think it felt to help you take baths and get dressed? That’s okay though, I was trying to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself! But you’re well enough not…” Stopping me, he argued, “Like I wasn’t there? And I didn’t ask you to do any of that!”
I agreed, “You’re right you didn’t.”
Narrowing his eyes at me, he fussed, “Renni, I’m done arguing with you.”
“Too bad for you, 'cause I’m not!” I assured.
With a sarcastic tone, he said, “Well good luck with that.”
With great irritation, I stressed, “You may think you’re going to decide what we’re doin’ here but you’re not.”
Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, Hert replied, “Alright then, while you’re throwing your little temper tantrum, I’m going to rest.”
“Hert, we need to talk,” I informed.
With a serious expression, he refused saying, “I need to get back to work.”
Shaking my head at him, I stressed, “No, you need to talk to me.”
Hert questioned, “Are you still wanting to argue?”
Shaking my head, I asked, “Are you comfortable?”
Hert nodded, saying, “It’s easier to sit up like this then to lie down.”
Since I was on his good side, I leaned over resting my hand on his chest and shared, “I’m not mad at you…it’s just…you hurt me.” As regret filled Hert’s eyes I explained, “You hurt my heart. I’m trying but it’s really hard.”
Placing his hand over mine, he said, “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
Nodding, I leaned in advising, “First of all, you can tell me why you really left. Maybe then it would make sense and I could understand.”
With complete sincerity, Hert replied, “After what Roberts told me, I couldn’t stay.”
Nodding, I whispered, “Okay.”
Curling up close to him, I placed my hand on the side of his face. His right arm was wrapped firmly around me, while his left hand held onto my arm. Realizing it would not take long for a kiss to escalate, I started to pull away.
Seeing how disappointed he looked when I let go, I assured, “I wanna be with you,” then taking a deep breath, I imparted, “It’s gonna take some time though.”
With a serious look, Hert asked, “Is there someone else?”
Highly insulted, I snapped, “Yes.” I could see the shock on his face before I shared, “There’s the Hert that I love and I know loves me and then there’s this other Hert that is a stupid ass!” Quickly getting off the bed, I shouted, “Do you want there to be someone else? Geez Hert!”
Shaking my head at him, I couldn’t believe how unjust his question was.
Taking a minute to collect my thoughts before I started shouting at him again, I wondered what made him think he had the right to ask me anything.
“I’m going to go visit your mother. If Jackson gets here before I get back tell him to wait for me. I have something for Mrs. Thomas,” I informed.
With a speculative glare, Hert said, “It’s not Friday.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I replied, “I don’t go on Fridays anymore.”
“When do you go then?” he asked.
I snapped, “Anytime I want!” then added, “You would know that if you ever went to see her.”
Seemingly offended, he stated, “I have nothing to say to her.”
Suddenly, I was angry with him.
Ms. Herterand had come so far from the glassy eyes catatonic lady in the wheelchair Hert brought me to see before we got married. After years of heavy medication, the process was slow, however, she even laughed a little on my last visit. How dare he still be upset with her. Hadn’t she been punished enough?
With that thought in mind, I questioned, “What makes you think you’re so much better than her?” Without giving him the chance to answer, I continued saying, “Didn’t you just make a huge mistake? And in case you forgot the almighty Mr. Roberts was also married.”
Hert quickly stated, “She left him to go back to Charles.”
“No she left him because he was married to Erin and they were going to have a baby,” I informed.
His voice grew louder as he said, “He went to my mother when he found out she was pregnant with me and she told him she didn’t need him!”
At that moment, I realized, this was the ‘he may need to know’ after Ms. Herterand told me her side of the story.
“You know what Hert; she did that because she loved him. Your mother knew Erin’s family would never let him get away leaving her. If he really loved your mother, why didn’t he fight for her? Tell her nothing else mattered? Erin had money and family. She would have been fine. It wasn’t about Erin or your mother. Mr. Robert’s wanted The Office more. If he had really loved your mother, he would have gotten down on his knees and begged her to be with him, told her nothing was more important, that he would give everything up for her,” I shared.
Hert’s expression changed as he said, “Maybe he couldn’t.”
Hit with a sudden realization, I imparted, “Or maybe he didn’t really love her, he just thought he did because she had always been there.”
Walking out of his room, I thought the similarity was uncanny.
I got in my car, deciding against the institution, I drove to Mrs. Thomas’ instead. Angry the whole way, by the time I arrived, my head felt like it was going to explode. Conveniently, when I pulled into the driveway, Jackson pulled up right behind me.
“What?” I snapped quickly getting out of the car.
Appearing surprised, Jackson said, “I thought I was bringing Sophia to you.”
Starting to cry, I said, “I think I made a mistake.”
Jackson exhaled loudly, informing, “Give me two seconds,” before running into the house.
Waiting for Jackson to come back out, I started thinking of all the similarities between Mr. Roberts and Hert. It was crazy to think they had not even met until Hert was a teenager still they were so much alike.
I had been to the Roberts house a few times before Hert. The first time was with my father for a dinner then after that when Emerson invited me. It took forever to convince Hert to come with me. In hindsight, I think he was afraid I was going to date Emerson and that’s what finally did it. I recalled Mrs. Roberts referring to him as ‘that Herterand boy’ and Mr. Roberts appearing instantly impressed with him. And now I knew why. Had I known before, so many things would have made perfect sense.
Jackson walked back out. With keys in hand he headed straight for his car.
As he opened the door, he said, “Come on, let’s go for a ride.”
Nodding, I walked over and got in.
We weren’t two houses down the street when Jackson asked, “What did you do?”
Shaking my head at him, I replied, “I didn’t do anything.”
Jackson stopped the car turned to me and questioned, “Then what mistake did you make?”
With a loud sigh, I informed, “I really just need someone to talk to.”
That was what I needed. Since I couldn’t talk to Mrs. Thomas, Jacks was the next best thing.
Taking a deep breath, I explained, “I’m really starting to think I shouldn’t have married Hert.”
Jackson, almost shouting, questioned, “What!?”
“I just think it would have been better to stick to my original plan,” I stated.
Shaking his head at me, Jackson returned his eyes to the road and silently drove on.
It wasn’t long before we stopped at a little spot he used to take me to when we dated. Turning to me, after taking the keys out of the ignition, Jacks waited for me to speak.
Instantly feeling bad, I clarified, “It’s not like I don’t love him. I do. I think we might not be right for each other after all.”
Shaking his head at me, Jackson stated, “Okay Ren, you’re going to have to fill me in 'cause I’m not sure what’s really going
on with ya’ll.”
Slightly shrugging, I replied, “Me neither, I mean... Okay, before I kicked Emerson out, he kinda kissed me. So I told him to leave. Then after Telli’s funeral, Hert left for that meeting and Emerson showed up in the middle of the night drunk. The next morning, Hert got home and Emerson told him.”
Breaking in, Jacks asked, “Roberts told him what?”
Shrugging, I said, “They were outside so I’m not really sure what exactly was said but when Hert came back in he was furious that I didn’t tell him what had happened and then he left.”
“Umm, did something happen that night?” he asked, appearing confused.
Shaking my head, I said, “No.”
With a suspicious glare, he questioned, “Then why did he leave?”
Frustrated, I explained, “I told you. Hert was mad that I didn’t tell him that Emerson had made a move on me or whatever.”
With a heavy sigh Jackson stared at me.
Making a face at him, I stared back trying to figure out why this was so hard for him to comprehend.
“I’m confused Ren,” Jackson confessed.
Snapping at him, I asked, “What’s so confusing about it?”
With another sigh, he shared, “Because Hert already knew about that, so unless something else...” I stopped him questioning, “What do you mean he already knew?”
“Well, Roberts told him the day it happened,” he replied.
Shocked, I asked, “How do you know that?”
Jacks explained, “I was at The Office when Hert came in. I was a little surprised to see him because I knew he had just gotten back. He looked like something was wrong so I asked if everything was okay and he said that he’d been by the house already and Roberts told him that he tried to kiss you and you pushed him away.” Pausing for a moment, Jacks continued, saying, “Personally I would have kicked his ass but Hert said he was going to go home and explain to Roberts that his behavior with you was unacceptable. He wasn’t even mad at you Ren.”
Allowing the information to sink in, I sunk down in my seat.
Trying very hard to think of a reasonable explanation to why Hert would pretend like he just found out, I recalled him saying, ‘I know you didn’t do anything with Roberts.’ No wonder I couldn’t get it to make sense.
“We need to pay Emerson a visit and find out what he told Hert then,” I suggested.
Disagreeing, Jacks stated, “No. You can’t trust Roberts. Go home and talk to Hert.”
Shaking my head, I shared, “He won’t tell me Jacks.”
“Why don’t you try reassuring him that you’re not going to flip out…you don’t have the best track record with that,” he advised.
Shaking my head again, I replied, “If I can’t trust Emerson and Hert doesn’t tell me, what am I supposed to do?”
Jackson shrugged, leaning his head back against the seat.
A few minutes passed before Jackson looked at me again. When he did, I could tell he had an idea.
“I can’t tell you what to do Ren but I think I know something that might help you.” Smiling he shared, “When I was little I got picked on a lot.” Noticing my confused expression, he rolled his eyes and continued saying, “Just listen. I was kinda chubby and wore glasses. Plus, I’m really smart and in elementary school that just shouts beat me up. Anyway, at night my mom would try to make me feel better by telling me about The Wren.”
“Jacks, I don’t...” I started before he stopped me saying, “I’m sure you don’t know what that is but I grew up hearing Irish legends and proverbs.”
Slightly smiling, I said, “I know what a wren is Jacks.”
Smiling wide, he shared, “Not a wren, The Wren, now just listen. In Ireland, The Wren is a symbol of Greatness and Cunning. The story goes that the birds held a contest to see who could fly the highest. The Eagle was flying higher than all the other birds but he got tired. The Wren hid himself in the Eagle's tail feathers and flew out soaring higher than the Eagle, proving it is better to be clever than strong. But The Wren is also hated by the Irish because when Irish troops were sneaking up on a portion of Cromwell's army to attack them, wrens came and perched on the Irish drums. The tapping of the wren’s feet on the drums alerted the English soldiers and they attacked the Irish troops and killed them all.” Taking a deep breath Jacks made his point, “After she would tell me the stories, my mom would ask me, which Wren are you? Are you The Wren that acts out of impulse without thought only doing what comes natural to you? Or are you The Wren that takes their time carefully thinking your actions through?”
Taking a moment to absorb what Jackson shared, I wondered what he thought.
“Which one am I?” I asked.
Raising his eyebrows, he questioned me saying, “I think the better question is which one should you be?”
Nodding, I admitted, “I’m not the right one.”
With a heavy sigh, Jackson imparted, “If you wanna find out what’s going on, which I strongly advise against, then now you know how to do it.”
Smiling at him, I cheered, “You really are smart!”
Serious in tone and expression, he reaffirmed, “I meant what I said Ren. I’m pretty sure this is a road you don’t wanna go down…but I’m your friend so I’ll stand beside you no matter what.”
Feeling a sense of sentiment towards him, I glance at his scar before leaning over and hugging him. Slowly letting go, I slid back to the passenger side. Taking a deep breath, I made up my mind to try asking Hert first then if that didn’t work, I was going to calmly figure it out on my own.
It didn’t take long to make it back to the Thomas’s house. Before we walked in, I stopped Jackson, wanting the chance to let him know how much I appreciated his advice.
“Hey,” I chirped before saying, “Thanks for being a good friend.”
He nudged me slightly then smiled with a wink before continuing into the house. Following Jackson inside, I saw Mrs. Thomas standing in her kitchen with Sophia.
As I walked over to them she smiled asking, “Everything okay?”
Taking Sophia from her, I replied, “Yes ma’am. Thank you for keeping Sophia for me.”
“She can stay here anytime,” Mrs. Thomas assured with a smile before concern grew in her eyes and she questioned, “Are you okay?”
Nodding, I glanced at Jackson before saying, “I think so.”
The smile returned to her face as she said, “Good.”
Jackson helped me get Sophia’s bag and walked me out to my car. After fastening Sophia into her car seat, I stepped to the side, allowing Jackson to tell her bye.
On the way home, Jackson’s Wren story ran through my mind. Realizing I hadn’t destroyed a whole army, I was still just as guilty of hurting people by giving in to my natural impulses. So many things could have been different had I taken the time to think things through. Finally home, I pulled up to the garage and carried Sophia and her bag into the house. I took a deep breath then put on a big smile before heading upstairs.
Walking into Hert’s office, I exclaimed, “Look who’s here!”
Looking up from his desk, Hert smiled saying, “Hey there Pumpkin.”
Handing Sophia to him, I informed, “I went and picked her up.”
Sophia giggled and pulled at his beard as he bounced her in his lap.
Smiling at them, I asked, “What do you want me to make for dinner?”
Not really making eye contact, he replied, “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Okay, I’m going to take Sophia downstairs so you can finish up with work for the day,” I shared, before picking her up and heading downstairs to the living room.
Except for Sophia, dinner was quiet. Afterwards, Hert was stretched out on the couch while Sophia and I sat on the floor playing. When the evening was almost over, I gave Sophia her bath and rocked her to sleep. Holding her for a while, I watched her sleep thinking about how much I missed her the last few days and how I didn’t even realize it until she was home. Finally layin
g her in her crib, I walked to Hert’s room to get my pajamas. Walking in, I had the strangest revelation. It never really occurred to me but it was the same feeling I had seeing Hert again after so long. Walking into the dining room that night, I was overcome, speechless. Really, I had missed him and didn’t even realize how much until I saw him again. The thought made me feel better. Instead of it being some hormone induced impulse, it was simply a feeling of being complete with someone I had spent the majority of my life with. Smiling to myself, I grabbed my pajamas out of the drawer.
Turning to walk back to Sophia’s room, I saw Hert walk in. He seemed angry at first then upon further inspection, I knew he was in pain.
With a sigh, I walked over to him and instructed, “Alright Hert, take a warm shower and then you’re taking some ibuprofen.”
He gave me a strange look but didn’t argue. As he headed to the shower, I went to get him a glass of water, the ibuprofen and some castor oil. I made it back just in time to change into my pajamas right before be stepped out of the bathroom.
“Hey, bring a towel with you and take your shirt off,” I ordered, sitting down on the bed.
Hert instantly obeyed then questioned, “What are you gonna do?”
Rolling my eyes at him, I replied, “Just get in bed.”
His hesitation made me laugh a little when he sat down. He handed me the towel and I laid it on the bed. I handed him two ibuprofen and his glass of water.
After he took it, I said, “Okay, get comfortable.”
Situating himself on the bed, he asked, “What is that stuff?” glaring at the bottle of castor oil.
“It’s for your side,” I stated.
Giving me a strange look, he asked, “What are you going to do with it?”
Smiling and shaking my head at him, I answered, “I’m going to rub it on your side, just close your eyes and relax. It will make your side feel better, I promise.”
Scowling he closed his eyes.
“It’s gonna warm up,” I assured when he flinched as I poured it on his side.
Rubbing it into his side, I could tell it was working as the expression on his face started to soften.
“Don’t fall asleep,” I laughed, continuing to say, “You’re going to have to put a shirt on when I’m done. If this stuff gets on the sheets, I’ll never get it out.”