Jette: Yes
Evan: And?
Jette: My answer is in a box on your deck. When you’re ready to talk call me
Evan: OK
When my phone doesn’t ring immediately, I start to panic. Was my message too vague? What could be taking him so long to call me back?
In order to distract my overactive imagination, I decide to strip all the beds and wash the sheets. Auggie’s surgery was four days ago, and in a few days’ time, he will probably be coming home. With the wash started, I decide to clean out the refrigerator. As I pull out the vegetable drawer to empty it of its contents, my phone rings. Finally!
I answer the phone, “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” he responds. God, I miss the sound of his voice.
“Did you find it?”
“Of course I did. You left it on our loveseat. It was the first place I looked, Juliette. Please come home. I need to see you. I have to tell you how sorry I am.” I can tell by the tone in his voice that he’s sincere.
“I want to talk to you, too Evan. I have to go to the hospital to check on Auggie, but I can come over around four o’clock. Is that okay?” I’m afraid that if I go there now, I’ll be putty in his hands. He has a way of making me forget everything and lose myself in him entirely. I can’t do that right now. This is too important.
“Okay, four o’clock.”
“Evan, one thing – do you understand what I meant by ‘make the turn’? It’s important to me that you do.”
“I think so. I’ve said some pretty horrible things to you, Juliette. I have a lot of apologizing to do. I already started with Derek and Ryker.”
“No that’s not it. I mean, yes, you do owe me an apology, but that’s not enough this time. We need to figure out why, Evan. Why did this happen? If you can answer me that when I see you, then we have a chance.”
“That’s all I need Juliette, a chance.” There’s silence for a moment, then he adds, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Shit. I wish I didn’t say that. I need to get off the phone before I make more promises I’m not ready for. “I’ll see you at four.” And with that, I hang up.
I finish the few chores I’ve begun, and then head over to the hospital. When I step into Auggie’s room, they have him out of bed, and sitting in a chair. “Oh, Auggie, look at you! Have you been sitting here long?”
“The doctor was in early this morning. The nurses got me out of bed right after he left.”
I give him a big hug and I can’t help but notice one big change. “Auggie, you smell great. And your hair is washed. Did you take a shower?”
“I did.” He’s got a shit-eating grin from ear to ear, so I know there’s more to the story. I raise one eyebrow suspiciously and he adds, “They sent me a male nurse. His name is Alan. He helped get me up, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, my God! You did not just say that.” I give him a light smack on the shoulder. Auggie’s back.
Auggie and I have a few hours to spend together before I have to be at Evan’s. We chat a little, but mostly, we just hang out today. Whenever Auggie and I have time to spare, one of our favorite pastimes is watching old eighties movies. I pull out his laptop and login to my Amazon account. “I have a special treat for us today, Auggie. Guess what I rented for us to watch together.”
“Is it a Brat Pack movie? Please tell me it is. I could definitely use a little injection of Rob Lowe to make me feel better.” Auggie’s crazy about Rob Lowe.
“Yes, and no. How about some Andrew McCarthy for a change? I thought a comedy might lift your spirits.”
“Hmm, let’s see. Brat Pack. Comedy. Andrew McCarthy. Is it Mannequin?” he guesses.
“Nope, guess again. I’ll give you another hint. Beach house.”
“No way. It’s Weekend at Bernie’s, isn’t it?” Auggie is very proud of himself for guessing it on the second try. “Are you missing your beach house, Jepetto?”
I didn’t even make that connection. “I guess so. Can we drop it, please? I just want to sit here with my bestie and enjoy a good movie.”
“Sorry, kiddo. Go ahead, put it on. Let’s chill.” I cue up the movie, pull a chair beside Auggie, and put my feet up on the bed. For the next hour and a half, we sit, we laugh, and just enjoy each other’s company.
As the movie comes to an end, a social worker stops in to check on Auggie. She introduces herself, shows us her hospital I.D., and recites a list of services the hospital provides beyond medical care. She can make referrals for counselors or therapists upon patient request. Even though she’s not here for me, I decide to take advantage and see if she can help.
“I was wondering if you could recommend a therapist who specializes in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.” She looks at me, then again at Auggie. “It’s for a friend.”
“Um, sure. Can you tell me a little more about your friend? Is it related to the armed services? The Department of Veterans Affairs provides top-notch care for its veterans,” she explains.
“No. It’s my boyfriend. He was involved in a traumatic event a few months ago and now he’s experiencing some pretty severe anxiety.” I’m afraid to give too much away. Averee’s attack on Evan last April was big news and it wouldn’t be hard to put the pieces together.
“Okay. I think I have an idea. There’s someone I know who specializes in that sort of thing.” She looks through her notes and fishes through her collection of business cards.
“Here it is! I found it.” She hands me a card with the name Dr. Walter Falkowski printed on it. It says he specializes in treating issues related to trauma and abuse, substance abuse, ADHD, depression and anxiety. There’s a phone number, but no address.
“Where is Dr. Falkowski’s office? It doesn’t say.” I’m hoping it’s close by.
“He has a private office in Spring Lake. When you call the office, they will give you the address. He only takes new patients by referral.” She takes the card from me and writes her name on the back, “Tell him that Erin sent you. He’ll make time for you right away.”
I pocket the card. Once she leaves, Auggie and I do a little background check on Dr. Falkowski. He’s listed in Psychology Today’s Therapist Directory. He’s got a bunch of initials after his name. Everything seems to check out. We’ll see if Evan is serious about wanting to make things right.
At three thirty, I give Auggie a big kiss and a hug. It’s time to go. I should have just enough time to make my way to the parking garage and fight the weekend traffic through the beach.
My mind is racing as I get closer to the beach house. Do I knock? Walk right in? We broke up, sort of, and I have no claim to the house without Evan’s consent. Fortunately, I don’t have to worry for long. I pull into the driveway and park the car. Before I make it as far as the front door, Evan is standing in the doorway waiting for me. I take a few steps closer and get my first good look at him. Holy crap, Derek’s right. Evan looks terrible. I stop dead in my tracks and just stare, taking in all the evidence of his combat. His black eye is now a putrid shade of green and yellow. His beautiful face is marred by cuts that are still healing under his eye, along his chin, and on his lip.
“It’s just bruises, Juliette. They’ll heal. Give it time. Come on in, let’s talk.” I snap out of my trance and follow him inside. He leads me onto the deck where he has my favorite white wine chilling, a big blue bottle of Relax Riesling. He pours a glass and hands it to me. When he does, I get my first look at his knuckles, all covered in cuts and bruises.
I take the glass in one hand, and grab his hand with the other, examining it more closely. “Damn it, Evan, look at you. What the hell is going on?”
He pulls his hand away from me. “I know it looks pretty bad, but ...“
“But nothing! It looks bad because it is bad, Evan. Don’t you see? This won’t all just go away when your bruises heal. You can’t pretend this whole thing didn’t happen.” Evan takes a seat in one of the deck chairs, but I’m too upset to sit still.
“I’m not. I don
’t mean to. Damn it, Juliette, will you sit down and talk to me? You’re making me nervous pacing around like that.”
I reluctantly sit in a nearby deck chair, take a big gulp of wine, and place the half empty glass down on the table. “Okay, Evan, I’m here, I’m sitting down, and you have my undivided attention. Where do you want to start?”
“I guess I should start with an apology. I have no excuse for my behavior, Juliette.” Evan gets up from his chair and stands directly in front of me, pleading with his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I said the most horrible things. That wasn’t me. I have never, ever, in my entire life, behaved like such a prick.” He kneels down and takes my hands into his. “The worst part is, I don’t even remember what I said. It’s like I blacked out or something, and when I came out of it, everything was muddy. Thank God Adam was there. He told me what I did. I was so ashamed. I’m still ashamed. If what Adam tells me is true, then I have no idea why you would ever agree to talk to me after the horrible things I said to you, Juliette.”
“I’m here because I’m worried about you, Evan. You haven’t been yourself for weeks now. It’s not just what happened on Wednesday that bothers me. Every time I so much as talk with anyone other than you, you blow a gasket. You even freaked out after our opening night.”
Evan interrupts me, “I didn’t freak out. I calmly told you how I felt and you blatantly disregarded my feelings, Juliette.”
“Do you understand that what you were asking of me was unreasonable, Evan? You must know that there was no way I could stop talking to Derek unless I fire him. And I hope I don’t have to remind you that we are the reason why Derek needed a job in the first place.” I stand up, grab my glass, and walk over to the patio bar to refill my glass.
“Of course. I don’t need to be reminded, Juliette.” Evan’s getting agitated now, I can hear it in his voice. He’s getting angry again. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about what happened. What almost happened. What could have happened.” I need to get him to calm down before this gets out of control.
“I think you need to talk to someone about all this. Someone who can help you sort through all of this and put it into perspective.”
“How is it that you used the exact same words as my mother, Juliette? You and she are on a mission to prove there’s something wrong with me. If you both would just leave well enough alone, things could get back to normal. Why can’t everyone see that?”
“Wait, let me get this straight – you’re telling me that calling me a whore –”
“Hang on, I never called you a whore!” Evan interrupts.
“You may not have used those exact words, but that is precisely what you were saying, Evan. You asked me if I was fucking two men at once, for Christ’s sake. What the fuck was that?”
“I overreacted.”
“No shit. What about Monday when you yelled at me in front of everyone and slept in the guest room?”
“I could have handled that differently, too.”
“Then why didn’t you, Evan? Why are you doing this? I don’t understand. Tell me one thing, do you really think I would do those things? Did you really think I was sleeping with them? Both?”
“At the time, yes. I really did.”
“And now?”
“No, of course not.” He walks over and sits on a bar stool beside me. “I’m so sorry for the terrible things I said. And the horrible things I did. When I saw you alone with Ryker, holding hands, saying the things he was saying, it was like someone flipped a switch and I couldn’t control my reaction. It wasn’t until hours later when I calmed down that I realized what I had done.” Evan runs his hands through his hair.
“But by then, the damage was done. And it was three days ago. If you knew you were wrong, why did you wait so long?”
“I was going to come to you the next day, but right after I got home from practice, my parents were knocking on my front door. I’m assuming I have you to thank for that.”
“If you’re asking me if I called your mother, the answer is ‘yes’.” He shakes his head as if I just confessed to a crime. “And I would do it again, too. I did it because I love you, Evan. Someone has to get through to you.”
“Why is it that all the women in my life think I need psychiatric help? You, my mother, my sister. You’re all convinced that there’s something wrong with me.”
“And the men? What do they say? What’s your father’s opinion about all of this?”
“My father agrees with Adam. It’s just stress. I need to take a break, slow down and take up a hobby, like golf.”
“Seriously? Golf? You must be kidding me. Are you actually saying that there’s nothing wrong with what you did?”
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying I lost control and I swear to you, to my mother, to everyone, that it won’t happen again.”
“That’s what worries me the most, Evan, your lack of control. What happens next time? Suppose you convince yourself that I’ve committed some sort of an offense against you? How do I know you won’t lose control again?”
“I won’t. I would never, ever, hurt you.”
“But you did, Evan. The things you said to me – I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way you looked at me. You had pure hatred in your eyes.”
“I was never so mad in my entire life, Juliette. I thought I was losing you. It felt so real.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“I know. What can I say to make things better? Tell me, and I’ll do it.”
“There’s nothing you can say, Evan. What’s done cannot be undone.”
“What are you saying? Juliette, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Evan, I came here tonight hoping to find a man with a plan on how to make things right. I was hoping to find you ready for me with more than an apology. I need to see that you have just a little bit of insight into this whole situation. You don’t seem any closer to having the answers I need than you did yesterday.”
“Answers to what? What kind of insight?”
“What happened to the man I fell in love with? How could you allow yourself to speak to the person you claim to love the way you did?”
“I told you how sorry I am and I meant it. I feel awful.”
“I know, but why did it happen in the first place?” Evan closes his eyes and shrugs his shoulders. “You don’t know, do you? That’s the insight I’m talking about.”
“Juliette, come home. Give it time. You’ll see. I promise it won’t happen again. I won’t let it.”
“You can’t control it, Evan. You said it yourself, more than once. You can’t wish it away. I think you need professional help.”
Evan gets up and walks away from me. He’s staring across the horizon, watching the crashing waves sweep in and out. “Now you’re really starting to sound like my mother.”
“Well, she’s right.” I walk over to him and hand him the card Erin gave me. “Here. I found you a doctor. His name is Walter Falkowski. He specializes in PTSD. I think you should contact him.”
He looks at the card and turns it over, examining the hand-written name on the back. “Who’s Erin? What did you tell her, Juliette? How do you know she won’t tell the press? What have you done? You’ve just made things worse!”
“I didn’t tell her anything, Evan. She’s a social worker at the hospital. She has no idea who you are or who I am. She never asked for names. I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just trying to get you the help you need. The help we need to get back on track.”
“I don’t need help. And I definitely don’t have PTSD. It’s like my father tried to tell my mother, I just need time to adjust.”
“No, you don’t. You’re anxious all the time. You don’t trust me, and you think your coaches are waiting for you to screw up. It’s like you’re paranoid that everyone is out to get you.” I walk over to him, wrap an arm around his waist and lean my head against his shoulder. “I haven’t even mentioned the nightmares. You’re tormented, Evan. Why won’t you adm
it it?”
He wraps both arms around me and pulls me close. “I’ll be better when you come home. Part of the problem is lack of sleep. I can’t sleep when you’re not with me. I need you.”
I wrap both arms around his waist. “Evan, I can’t sleep either. But don’t forget, you’re the one who started sleeping in the guest bedroom.”
I feel his shoulders slump. “I’m sorry. I should have talked to you, but I was – ”
“You were mad.” He nods. “You’ve been angry a lot lately.”
He pulls me away just enough so he can look me in the eyes. “How many times do I have to apologize, Juliette? I know I was wrong.”
“I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. We keep going around and around in circles, and getting nowhere.” I break away from his hold, and start walking toward the house.
Evan grabs me, and pulls me back into his arms. “Wait. What do you mean you’re done? Don’t give up on me, Juliette.”
“It hurts to hear those words, doesn’t it Evan? Do you have any idea how much you hurt me with your words? You keep saying you’re sorry, but you won’t do anything about it. Your words are empty, Evan. They mean nothing to me unless you’re willing to actually do something about it. I don’t trust you anymore.” I need him to understand. “Get help. Deal with what happened with Averee. Until you’re ready to accept the fact that she changed you, things between us will never be the same.” I hold his face in my hands. “Please, Evan. Don’t let her do this to us.”
Evan turns away from me. He walks to the edge of the deck and grasps the railing as if he’s holding on for dear life. “Talking about that night isn’t going to make things better. I’m trying so fucking hard to put it behind me and move on. Do you have any idea how much that night haunts me? Every day, I ask myself why I didn’t see how sick she was sooner. How I let her torment you day after day, week after week. I play that night over and over in my mind, and I can’t help but wonder how close she actually came to hurting someone at the bar that night. She could have killed you, Juliette. She could have killed me.” He turns around and sweeps me into his arms, holding me close. “She got into our house. She was in our bedroom, dammit. Suppose you walked in while she was there? Do you ever think about that?” He takes a deep breath and whispers in my ear, “I don’t see how you can forgive me. I failed. It’s my job as a man to protect you, and all I did was bring that monster into your world. Every time you look at me, I feel like a failure.”
Running Home to You (The Running Series) Page 16