by Naomi Niles
I was rewarded with her pretty smile. I thought I might just stand on my head for that. “You’re doing so well with your speech,” she said.
“I like to talk,” I told her. “Not as much as my sister, though.”
She laughed, and then I saw her look at the clock. “I should get going. Nona has school tomorrow, and her mother will be by to pick her up soon.”
“You didn’t have dessert.”
“Maybe another time,” she said, putting her hand on that gorgeous, flat stomach. “I’m so full…and skipping a dessert or two isn’t going to hurt me a bit. I’ve been trying to shed my winter coat.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Smiling, she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound like I was fishing for a compliment.”
“You should be. You’re gorgeous.” She gave me a long, piercing look, like she was trying to figure out if I was being serious or not. I couldn’t believe that she didn’t know how drop-dead gorgeous she was.
“Thank you, Kyle,” she said after a long pause. “I’m going to get Nona and say good night to Sarah and Michael.” She started to pass me, and then she stopped and bent down and kissed me on the cheek. “Have a good night.”
“You, too.” I knew exactly what kind of night I was going to have: it was going to be a sexually frustrated one. That tiny little brush of her lips had turned my insides into hot liquid and sent the blood all racing down south.
CHAPTER SIX
AMBER
Dylan didn’t come home until the following Monday. I was okay with that because I’d decided that I was going to end things with him. I’d talked to Marlene about it the night she picked Nona up and the next day when I saw Kyle again in the clinic, I knew that I had to do it. It wasn’t that I thought I had any chance of a relationship with Kyle, but the attraction I was feeling towards him really brought home that Dylan wasn’t the man I was meant to be with.
Dylan got home just as I was getting home from work. As soon as I stepped out of the car, he grabbed me and started putting his hands all over me and trying to kiss me. He smelled like horses, whiskey, and stale smoke. It made my stomach turn.
I pulled away from him and he said, “Jeez, nice welcome home.”
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t even gone inside yet. Give me a minute, okay?”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. How about some help unloading the truck?”
I wanted to say no. He spends my money to go gallivanting around the country instead of getting a real job and then acts like it’s a real job. I didn’t want to piss him off before we had our talk, though, so I started pulling his tack out of the back end while he put the horse away. By the time we finished, I needed a shower.
“I’m going to shower and then I’ll make dinner,” I told him. He was already at the refrigerator getting a beer. He gave me a backwards nod as I went into the bathroom. Thinking about how grabby he was when he got home, I locked the door. I’d just stepped in when I heard him fumbling with the knob.
“What the fuck, Amber? Why is the door locked? I’ve seen your fat ass naked before.”
My stomach clenched in knots. “I’ll be out in a few minutes,” I tried.
“No…fucking let me in.”
“No, Dylan. Let me take my shower in peace.” That was when he started banging on the door. Shit. “Knock it off! I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Why don’t you want me to see you?”
“Jesus, Dylan, I don’t want to have this conversation through the door.”
“Then open it.”
“No.”
“Open it or I’ll kick the fucking thing down. Who do you think you’re saving that ass for? You should be grateful I still want to fuck you.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as the warm water cascaded down across my neck and shoulders. God, I’m so tired of living like this. I hoped if I ignored him he would go away…and for a few minutes, it seemed to be working. I hurried through the rest of my shower, and just as I stepped out and reached for the towel flying pieces of wood came crashing in on top of me. The house was old and Dylan didn’t do anything to keep it up. The door splintered when he kicked it and pieces of it rained down on top of me. One of them knocked me off balance and I slipped on the wet floor, striking my forehead on the vanity as I went down.
I must have blacked out because when I woke up, I was lying in bed with a washcloth on my forehead. I was dried off and under the covers, but I was still naked. The room had gotten dark since I came home and I was disoriented. I panicked a little bit, not knowing how long I slept.
I pushed myself up to a sitting position and looked around. Dylan was in the chair next to the window, asleep. I lowered my feet to the floor and tried to ignore the pain and the nausea as I stood up. As soon as I was on my feet, the room began to spin and I had to sit back down. My stomach was rolling with acid and I felt like I was going to throw up. Shit. “Dylan!” He groaned, but he didn’t open his eyes. I was really going to be sick. I got back to my feet. I was still dizzy, but not as bad. I used the furniture to hold onto as I made my way into the bathroom. It looked like he cleaned it up after putting me to bed. The only evidence of what happened earlier was the dangling hinges where the door used to be. Asshole.
I took a towel down and kneeled in front of the toilet. I hadn’t eaten since lunch time, so my stomach was empty and I sat there and dry heaved for what seemed like hours. When I finally thought I was finished, my whole body was shaking and I didn’t feel like there was any way I’d be able to stand and walk back to the bed. Instead, I curled up on the towel and went to sleep.
*******
“Amber…Amber wake up.” Dylan had his hand on my shoulder, and he still stunk. I didn’t want to open my eyes. My head was pounding and my whole body hurt from the retching – the last thing I wanted to see was his face. “Amber.”
“Leave me alone!”
“I’m not going to leave you on the bathroom floor.”
“All of a sudden you’re filled with compassion?”
“I’m sorry, baby. You know I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I opened my eyes then. The son of a bitch smiled at me. “Fuck you, Dylan. I want you out of here, today.”
His smile turned into a smirk. “This house belongs to my parents. I’m not going anywhere.”
I pushed up to a sitting position. “Fine, I’ll leave.”
He sighed. “Come on, Amber. I had a little too much to drink and you pissed me off. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. Come here, baby…” he reached for me, but I pushed back into the corner. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I laughed like a crazy person. “Oh, I don’t know, Dylan. It just dawned on me that I live with an abusive piece of shit who has an excuse for everything he does. A man who says he loves me, but the fact that I’m naked on the bathroom floor because I have a head injury that’s making me vomit begs to differ. I’m sick and tired of living like this. I want out.”
He ran his hand through his hair. It was thick and black, and he needed a haircut desperately. His face was also covered with three or four days’ worth of black stubble. His eyes were all bloodshot and his teeth were stained…he looked like shit. “Nine years, Amber – almost ten. We’ve been together for nine years. Are you just going to throw that away?”
“Dylan, can’t you see that there is nothing left here to throw away? You’re hardly ever here, and when you are, you’re drunk and mean as a snake. That’s no way to live. I hate my life. I want this to be over.”
“Amber-”
“No!” I grabbed hold of the counter and struggled to my feet. He tried to help me, but I shook him off. “No. I’m leaving, Dylan.”
That cocky look returned and he snorted. “You’ll be back.”
“No…not this time.” I’d left him twice before. Both times I made the mistake of letting him woo me back. Marlene told me if I left him this time, she’d take me in – but that if I went back to him, then that wo
uld be it.
“You’re fat and bitchy, and you can’t even carry a baby to term…” I slapped him, hard. He grabbed my arms and shoved me back into the wall. “Do not ever put your hands on me again.”
“You’re hurting my wrists,” I pleaded.
“Good,” he said as he let me go. I nearly fell to the ground, but caught myself. “You’re worthless. Get the fuck out of here.”
I got dressed and all I took with me was my purse and clean scrubs for work the next day. Dylan glared at me the whole time. When I got in my car and up the street, I pulled over and cried. I had to get it out of my system. When I finally stopped shaking and pulled myself together, I drove to my sister’s house. She opened the door and said, “I’m calling the cops.”
“Oh, Marlene, it’s early and I’m exhausted. Please don’t call the police. It’s going to scare Nona to have them here and think about your custody case if Jim gets wind of this.”
“So this piece of shit gets away with abusing you?”
“He didn’t lay a hand on me…” I saw her looking at my wrists then. “He grabbed my arms because I hit him. I fell and hit my head on the sink. Please, Marlene, I just want to lie down.”
She took my bag and led me to the guest room. She sat the bag down and said, “Are you going to work?”
“No, I already called off. I just need to sleep.”
She hugged me and there were tears in her eyes. “Please don’t go back.”
“I won’t.” I crawled into the bed as she turned off the light. A few minutes later, she brought me a pain pill. I didn’t even ask what it was. I took it, closed my eyes, and slipped off into a dream.
It was about Kyle.
CHAPTER SEVEN
KYLE
I woke up Wednesday morning aching to see Amber. I got up out of bed and instead of just sitting down in the wheelchair; I pushed it out into the living room. I could see Dad in the kitchen making breakfast. “Hey, Dad.”
He turned around and looked at me. What passed as a happy smile for my dad was a mildly amused one for others, but I knew the difference. “Well, look at you.”
I grinned. I was proud of myself. “Yep, I’ll be ready for that 5K by next week.”
He smiled again and said, “Don’t over-do it.”
“I won’t.” I looked at the clock and realized it was after seven. “Hey, why are you still here?” He usually left for work at six-thirty.
He made a face and said, “Come and sit down for a minute.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what I had to sit down for, but I did as he asked. He poured me a cup of coffee and sat it in front of me. Then he sat down with his and said, “Your mother called last night.”
I felt the stirrings of old anger in my belly every time anyone mentioned her. “What did she want?”
“She ran into Michael the other day and I guess he mentioned you being sick…”
“Shit.”
“Ah, you know how Michael is. He just wasn’t thinking. Anyways, she’s still in town. She leaves this afternoon and she’d like to see you.”
“No.”
“Kyle, you know that I’ve always left that choice to you and your sister. You have a right to be angry with her. But I just want you to be sure. Your illness is just proof that we never know what’s going to happen from one day to the next.”
I’ve never told anyone, but my biggest argument with having anything to do with my mother is that I’ll forget how angry I am with her. She deserves my anger and Sarah’s, and even twenty-six years later, I hate the thought of letting her off the hook. “Are the kids with her?” I noticed that when I’m tired or stressed it gets even harder for me to form my words. I wondered if she’d even be able to understand me.
“I reckon.”
“Will you be here?”
He looked at his watch. “I can be.”
I’m twenty-seven years old. I can do this on my own. “No, Dad, go to work.”
“I don’t mind, son.”
“I know you don’t, Dad. That’s good enough. Go to work.”
He nodded. He had to be worn out from all of that talking. I laughed to myself at that. “What?” he said.
“Nothing. I love you, Dad.”
He looked uncomfortable, but God bless him, he said, “I love you, too, son.”
*******
My mother and my thirteen- and fourteen-year-old step-siblings Brenda and Reece showed up about an hour after my dad left. As soon as I opened the door, she threw herself into me and began to cry. So fucking dramatic. I looked over her shoulder at Brenda and Reece, they looked embarrassed. “Mom…can’t breathe.”
She stood up and wiped at her face with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. Oh, Kyle, I’m so sorry.” I rolled back from the door and said,
“Come in…I’m…not dying.” They followed me in, and I looked at the kids who I hadn’t seen in at least four years. “You guys got…big.”
Brenda smiled, and Reece rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Brenda said shyly.
I smiled at her. “Me, too. Sit.”
My mother sat down on the couch and reached for my hand. I wanted to pull away, but I kept my father’s words in my head and I let her take it. “How are you?” she said.
“I’m okay. I’m doing therapy.”
“And they’re sure it wasn’t cancer?”
“Yes.”
“They got it all?”
“Yes.”
“Do they know what caused it?”
“No.”
“Kyle, I’m just so glad you’re okay. Are you alright here with your father? Do you need anything?”
I raised an eyebrow. I mustered all of my strength and from the time I opened my mouth until the time I finished the snide sentence, fifteen minutes passed. “I’ve…been…okay with my father for twenty…six….years.” Her face looked like I slapped her and I felt instantly guilty, but why should I? What kind of woman abandons her kids?
She looked over at Reece and Brenda and said, “Would you two mind waiting outside for a minute?” Brenda looked like she was ready to cry, and Reese rolled his eyes again.
“Come on, the same old soap opera is on in here,” he said as he looked at his sister.
“Bye, Kyle,” Brenda said. She’s sweet and she’s my little sister and I should feel something more for her than I do, but I don’t. I wonder if that makes me a bad person.
“Bye, Brenda. Bye, Reece.” Reece didn’t acknowledge me. I didn’t hold it against him. I remember what it was like to be fourteen.
When they were gone my mother said, “You’ve said it yourself, Kyle – it’s been twenty-six years. I was twenty-one years old. The difference between twenty-one and forty-seven is a whole world. I’m not that selfish, scared young girl any longer and I wish that some day before I die that you and your sister will realize that. I’ve lived in my own personal hell all of these years for what I did to you both. If there was anything I could do to make it up to you, I would.”
“There’s not.”
She was blinking back tears again. I’ve seen them more times than I can count. They don’t mean anything coming from her. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay.”
“Will you call me if you need anything?”
“Probably not.” She stood up and picked up her purse. She looked like she was going to say something else, but she changed her mind and headed for the door. Before she got there it was pushed open and Greg framed the doorway. Another person I really don’t want to see.
“Hey there, Miss… What’s your name now?”
“Brown,” my mother said with a sniffle. “Hello, Greg.” Mom and Greg had met on two of her other guilt visits. She turned to look at me one last time before she left.
When she was gone Greg said, “If you’re in a forgiving mood-”
“I’m not,” I interrupted. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
*******
I tried to get back the mood I w
as in when I woke up this morning, but my mother and my former best friend had both ruined it. Hopefully, seeing Amber would do it for me. Greg parked the car in front of the clinic, so I pushed the chair inside. The lady that was at the counter a lot saw me come in and said, “Well, look at you after only two weeks. I’m impressed.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“I’ll let Amber know you’re here.”
“Thanks.” Just the sound of her name sent little jolts through my body. I’d barely sat down when she called for me. I got behind the chair again and pushed it over to the door. I was already smiling – until I saw her face. “Amber…your face?”
She smiled and then winced. Her forehead was bruised and had a spot that she’d tried to cover with make-up and her hair, and her right eye was black. “I slipped in the bathroom,” she said. “Come on back. It looks like you’re ready for the parallel bars.”
I followed her back, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that gash on her head. “Amber,” she turned to face me and I put my hand out and gently touched her forehead. She closed her eyes for just a second before she pulled back. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure what, Kyle?”
“You’re okay?”
She nodded. “Let’s get to work,” she said. We started with the basic leg exercises and then we switched it up and did some speech therapy. As the session went on, both of our moods got lighter. After the speech therapy, we went to the parallel bars. She had me practice lifting my right leg and making it move with the left. I had to concentrate hard on it and even then it would only scrape along the floor about an inch at a time. It felt heavier than the other leg.
“Not as easy as it looks,” I told her. It was about five feet from start to finish. I’d taken three steps and I still had about four and a half feet to go. She smiled. Even bruised up, she was gorgeous.
“No, it’s not, but you’re doing great. I don’t expect you to do the whole length today.”
“I bet I could do it with a little more incentive,” I said, feeling brave all of a sudden. Before I got sick I was kind of a cocky S.O.B. I never had any trouble asking a woman out. I’d always assumed she would say yes. But brain surgery and recovery can definitely hurt a guy’s confidence.