by Amanda Dick
I’d seen Dad grab my mother like that, more than once. I’d seen him do worse than just grab her, too. It felt like a million years ago some days. Other days, it felt like it had all happened just yesterday. He was an angry drunk, and so was I. I think that’s what scared the shit out of me more than anything. As much as I didn’t want to be like him, it seemed to be inevitable. There were too many similarities.
Seeing that guy grab Sass had brought it all flooding back. The look in her eye was the same look I remember seeing on my mother’s face. Fear, disbelief and helplessness. I’d told myself that if I ever saw that look again, I’d do something about it. I was just a kid then. I wasn’t strong enough, in mind or body. But now… now I could step in. I could make it stop. So I did.
Leo and I had frog-marched the guy out of the bar, and I’d punched him again, for good measure. Leo stood behind me while I did. If it had been my sister, I’d have laid into him myself, but he seemed happy enough to leave it to me. Maybe he was protecting his hands, but to me, it was worth the bruised knuckles.
I needed to see Sass, to make sure she was okay. I went to The Church the following night to talk to her. I wasn’t even sure she’d want to see me after what happened. She seemed pissed off that I woudn’t leave her alone, but I got the feeling most of that was just defensive. Ally had done the same thing, especially in the months immediately following her accident.
But when I’d walked into the bar, I realised pretty quickly that Sass wasn’t working. In fact, Leo appeared to be there on his own and the place was pretty quiet for a change.
“You running solo tonight?” I asked, sitting down at the bar.
He came over and leant on the bar, looking every inch the professional bartender with a cloth slung over his shoulder.
“Not quite – Gemma’s out the back, taking a break and getting something to eat,” he said. “First round’s on the house tonight, by the way – I owe you after last night.”
“There’s no need – really,” I insisted.
“Yeah, there is. It’s the least I can do. I don’t know if I’d have been able to handle that guy without you.”
“I’m sure you’d have been fine,” I said as he pushed a beer across the bar. “I’m assuming you barred him?”
“Damn straight.”
“Good. How’s Sass?”
He shrugged, but I could see he was still worried about her. That made two of us.
“She’ll be fine. It just shook her up a bit.”
“I bet it did.”
I should’ve punched that guy a third time, for good measure.
“I think it knocked her confidence more than anything,” he went on. “She took something for the pain when we got home, but I think it’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than painkillers to fix this.”
“I could be wrong, but I got the feeling last night that everything’s still fairly… fresh,” I said carefully.
“She’s still… I don’t know. Dealing with it, I guess. It’s been a long road.”
I really felt for him. Obviously, the road hadn’t been hers to travel alone. I’d seen Ally go through a lot of stuff. When something traumatic, life-changing, happens to someone you love, it changes you, too. I wasn’t sure Ally really understood that, even now.
“I remember seeing it on the news,” I said, testing the water. “About her accident. I didn’t know it was her until last night – I mean, her name’s different, and her hair. I had no idea.”
He seemed lost for a moment, like he was thinking about what to say to simplify it into words I would understand. I got that, too. Words never really seemed to cover it, and he barely knew me. He had no idea what my history was or what Ally had been through. How was he supposed to know I’d been where he was, or is?
“Look, I know this is a small town, and this is probably big news,” he said finally. “But can I ask you a favour? Please don’t tell anyone about this. She’s just… it’s been a really tough year for her, and she’s still trying to find her feet. She just needs some space, y’know?”
“I understand,” I said immediately. “Of course.”
It was the first time I’d seen him look unsure of himself, even in the short time I’d known him. He always seemed to exude a quiet confidence, but just then he looked like he was struggling just to keep his head above water.
“Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, look – it’s fine, really. I get it.”
He seemed relieved, and I couldn’t help but feel for him. Whatever had happened, it was obviously still raw, for both of them.
Chapter Eighteen
“It’s an art, to live with pain… mix the light into gray.”
– Eddie Vedder
Sass
I was tempted to take more painkillers so at least I’d get a decent night’s sleep. I’d taken some last night, after I’d bathed my arm and applied a series of cold compresses to it. It had given me a measure of relief, but what hurt more was my pride and there was no quick-fix for that.
After I’d put Aria to bed, I picked up the box of painkillers from my bedside table, trying to decide if I really needed them. I hadn’t worn my prosthesis all day, and the red marks on my stump looked like they were fading. The pain was down to a dull ache, but I’d sworn to myself that I’d only take medication when things were unbearable. I put the box in the drawer and closed it. I could handle this. Instead, I grabbed an elasticised compression sock and eased that onto my arm. The constant pressure would help with swelling.
I went into the living room and sat down on the couch, grabbing the remote. I planned to kill an hour or so watching mindless TV, then go to bed. It would beat tossing and turning for a couple of hours. I grabbed a throw cushion from beside me and pulled it closer, resting my forearm on it to keep it elevated. It seemed to help with the throbbing.
I was channel-surfing when the knock on the door came.
I froze. I wasn’t expecting anyone. It couldn’t be Leo or Gemma, because they had a key. It had to be someone I didn’t know. It was a bit late for those annoying door-to-door guys, though. I got up and tugged down my sleeve, just in case, as I headed for the front door. Opening it, I peered out through the crack in the door, leaving the chain on.
“Hi,” Callum said, a little sheepishly.
My automatic response was to shove my left arm behind my back. What the hell was he doing there?
“Hi,” I said, hiding behind the door.
“Can I come in?”
I thought about saying no – seriously thought about it. I fast-forwarded through the next few minutes in my head. The one word that came to mind was ‘awkward’. Reluctantly, I closed the door, took a steadying breath, and unhooked the chain. When I opened the door again, he smiled.
“Thanks. I thought maybe you’d decided to make a run for it,” he said.
My cheeks burned and I found it difficult to look at him. If I was that obvious from a distance, I didn’t want him too close.
“Come in,” I said, hiding behind the door again so we didn’t have to make eye contact.
He did, and I closed the door after him. We stood in the hallway and I locked my right hand over my left forearm, behind my back, tugging the sleeve down even further.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, finally looking up at him.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing, after last night.”
I practically chased him away last night, and less than twenty-four hours later he was there, in my house. What was I supposed to do with that? This harmless flirting thing had gone beyond the pale. He was in my house, for God’s sake!
“I’m fine,” I said, keeping a lid on all of that, by sheer force of will. “Thanks.”
He nodded, like he didn’t believe me but he was willing to let it slide. We stood in the hallway, because I thought it might be safer that way. I didn’t want him to get too comfortable.
“I was just in the bar, talking to Leo about what happ
ened last night. He said he barred the guy.”
“Yeah. Good,” I mumbled. “Asshole.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
He smiled, and I fought the urge to thank him for his concern, open the door and see him on his way.
“How’s your arm?” he asked, the smile dying. “He hurt you pretty badly, I could tell.”
He didn’t seem at all guided by the laws of social etiquette I’d become accustomed to since the accident. Those unspoken laws said you shouldn’t mention a person’s disability to their face. You should just take sneaky glances when you thought they weren’t watching, to satisfy your natural curiosity. Clearly, Callum hadn’t read these rules. I shouldn’t have been surprised that nothing scared him away, particularly after the way he handled the asshole who grabbed me. But, nevertheless, it did surprise me. It shocked me, in fact.
“You did the right thing, refusing to serve him,” he added.
I bit my lip. I couldn’t risk looking at him, so I stared at the wall over his right shoulder. My throat burned as I fought to keep my composure. It was the same thing I’d been asking myself ever since last night. Had I done the right thing? Had I brought it on myself? Should I have just served him?
“He was drunk, and you were well within your rights to refuse him. Regardless, he won’t be coming back. You don’t have to worry about him doing anything like that again.”
I nodded again, wishing he would just leave so I could retain some shred of dignity. I could feel the tears threatening to fall but I refused to blink, in case that opened the floodgates.
“Hey,” he said, squeezing my shoulder carefully. “It’s okay.”
I didn’t dare look at him. It was bad enough that he had his hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. My head urged me to get out of there, but he had me physically bound to him, and I couldn’t move. I sniffed, nodding again as I quickly wiped my eyes.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m not usually like this.”
Not in front of people, anyway.
“It’s okay,” he said, gently squeezing my shoulder. “You don’t have to apologise.”
I ducked my head to quickly wipe my eyes, his hand falling away. As it did, I noticed his bruised knuckles.
“Freaked me out,” I said, because I owed him some kind of explanation.
“I bet it did.”
“It wasn’t what he… I fell, when he let me go. That’s how I hurt my arm. He didn’t really… hurt me. Not when he grabbed me, anyway. I mean, my pride, I guess. That took a beating.”
Was I even making sense?
“It was my own fault,” I clarified. “I fell wrong, the wrong way. I should’ve… I know better, I just wasn’t thinking.”
“You wouldn’t have fallen at all if he hadn’t grabbed you like that. Don’t blame yourself just because he was an asshole.”
I nodded. It was easier to agree, and I wasn’t going to stand there and discuss how embarrassed I was at not being able to defend myself.
“Are you okay, now?”
I wanted to laugh out loud, but I made myself look up at him.
Fake it till you make it.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
One more lie wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
Chapter Nineteen
“I still believe that love is all you need. I don’t
know a better message than that.”
– Paul McCartney
Callum
“Jack’s not home yet – he’s picking up the trailer.”
I nodded, making my way through to the kitchen anyway. “Well, then yeah, I’ll have a drink with you while I wait. Thanks.”
“Coffee?” Ally asked, and although I know it was meant to sound casual, it didn’t.
It sounded pointed. I turned to her, but decided at the last second that I didn’t want to go there right now. I had too much else on my mind to fight about this.
“Yeah, coffee’s good.”
I’d have preferred a beer, but that could wait until after Jack and I had cleared a trailer load of stuff out of the garage at Tom’s old place and brought it back here.
“Leo phoned earlier,” Ally said, getting mugs out and setting them on the kitchen counter. “He’s gonna be home all afternoon, so if you need a hand, he’s happy to help.”
I pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down. “Great, because we can use all the help we can get. There’s a lot of stuff in there.”
Ally poured the coffee and handed me my mug.
“Thanks. So, where are you gonna put all this stuff when we get it back here?”
“I don’t know. Some in my studio I think, for now. The rest in the garage.”
“With all your grandmother’s stuff? Is there room?”
“I think so. We cleared some space.”
She leant her crutches against the table and carefully lowered herself into the chair across from me. Something was bothering her, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with lack of storage space.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “And don’t say ‘nothing’. I’m not that stupid.”
After spending a few moments playing with the handle on her coffee mug, she finally met my eyes, and I knew my instincts were right. It was written all over her face. I suspected what it was, but I wanted her to tell me anyway. It was important, if not to her, then to me. Jack had confided in me because he trusted me. I wanted Ally to confide in me, too.
“Jack told me about the baby thing,” I said, hoping that would open the gate for her.
She nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
“So what happens now?” I asked.
“Honestly? I don’t know. We said we’d take some time out before we talked about it again.”
This was killing her, I could see it so clearly. It must be killing Jack, too, because the one thing in this world he wanted was for her to be happy.
“He loves you, y’know,” I said gently, as if she needed a reminder. “He just scared he’s gonna lose you. Right now, that’s all he can think about.”
She nodded, and her gaze fell, as if she was trying to protect me from seeing how much it hurt. Too late.
“He just needs some time to get used to the idea,” I said, hoping I was right.
“Yeah.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“You guys really need to talk about this. It’s not going to go away.”
She shook her head.
“I’ve said everything already. Now I just have to wait for him to decide that he wants a baby as much as I do.”
She was a smart cookie. She knew, just as I did, that it was more than just the pregnancy that was the issue.
I didn’t envy her position, or his. There was no doubt that this relationship thing was full of compromises, and sometimes there were no clear-cut rules. Sometimes, someone was going to get hurt no matter which way you swung it.
Chapter Twenty
“How can I go forward when I don’t
know which way I’m facing?”
– John Lennon
Sass
I hadn’t worn my prosthesis at all the day before. Today, I was easing back into it slowly, an hour on, an hour off. The swelling had gone down and my arm was feeling much better, but there were still some residual red marks on the skin that I was keeping an eye on. I couldn’t afford to take any chances. There was no way I was going to show up at work without it.
Although my arm was healing, my pride and my confidence were still tingling from the sting of what had happened. I thought I was safe at the bar, with Leo there right beside me most of the time, but my little straw house had come tumbling down around me. I kept thinking back over it, and I couldn’t understand why I didn’t fight harder, why I didn’t just throw the guy off, or wrench myself away from him, or do something – anything – differently. I think it came down to the shock. He’d taken me by surprise, further evidenced by the fact that my gut reaction was to put both hands behind me
when I’d started to fall backwards, even though I knew better than to do that.
I couldn’t get Callum out of my head. I kept coming back to one thing: why? Why was he bothering with me? Why me? Couldn’t he see the kind of baggage I hauled around with me? It felt as if it was written all over my face, yet he either couldn’t read the signs or he was ignoring them. Why?
I wasn’t good at relationships, even before the accident. It was just never a priority for me. I didn’t need to have a boyfriend to feel complete. I liked one night stands. They were quick, simple and there was no baggage. Everyone was a winner. My life was complicated, and busy, and I didn’t have time to pander to someone else’s needs.
A lot of things had changed in the past year, but my gut instinct to stay away from relationships hadn’t. My life was still complicated, and the baggage was now enough to fill an aircraft hangar. I couldn’t add someone else’s needs into the mix – I had enough trouble keeping on top of my own.
Then Callum showed up, spilling coffee all over my born-again-virgin status.
He had me thinking about this stuff again, when it had been relegated to the darkest recesses of my mind for so long. I kind of hated him for that. I wasn’t ready for it.
I stood at the window in my bedroom, watching as the three of them unloaded boxes from the garage into the trailer hitched behind Jack’s car. I’d taken my prosthesis off again to give my arm a break and I massaged the muscles in my forearm gently, hoping to help the circulation.
I took care to keep hidden behind the curtain, watching. They worked easily together, Leo, Jack and Callum. It was odd how Leo seemed to have taken a shine to Callum. My brother wasn’t exactly the trusting type. The friends he had were mostly ones he’d known since he was a kid, or friends from his playing days. He wasn’t a collector of people. He held his friends close and he was extremely loyal. Gemma was the outgoing one – she had a tonne of friends, whom she was in touch with often. I guess it was just Leo and I who were careful who we attached ourselves to. Our circles were small and tight. Trust was earnt and took time.