Resilient

by Patricia Vanasse

  “Did she?” I ask and Brianna laughs.

  “I knew you cared. I’m starting to think you care too much. Don’t you?”

  “Maybe you should think a little less, Bri.”

  I get into the media room to find Kyle and Matt drinking beers and chalking their pool cues. “Didn’t you two get enough to drink last weekend?” I say, grabbing a cue from the rack.

  “Matt’s parents won’t be home until tomorrow, so we might as well drink what’s left.” Kyle hands me a beer.

  “I’ll pass.”

  “What’s the matter with you, Adam? Still hung over?” Matt asks. I ignore him. “Here, grab a can.” He throws it to me. Matt is always pushy. Kyle usually gives in, but not me, not this time.

  “I’m cool, dude!” I start dropping the pool balls into the frame, moving them around into the right configuration.

  Matt eyes me and says, “I heard what Aphrodite did to Livia. How is she doing?”

  Talk about salt in a wound. It wasn’t so much what Aphrodite did, more of what I didn’t do. Before I can answer Matt’s question, Kyle jumps into the conversation.

  “I went to see her today,” he says. “She said she feels fine and her leg is getting better already. But it’ll be a while before she’s up and running again.”

  “That sucks!” Matt says.

  I watch as Kyle talks about his visit with Livia. I saw her wincing and I know her leg hurt. She didn’t seem fine to me. When he talks about her, I get a feeling that he cares too much—to use Brianna’s words. I wonder if she feels the same way about him. She did look way too comfortable dancing with him last Saturday. My hand closes in a fist as I realize how much I don’t like the idea of them together. But I know Kyle wouldn’t hurt her; he is not like that. He is not like me.

  “She’s smoking hot man!” I hear Matt saying, putting me in a worse mood. His eyes swerve to me. “Did you two hook up last Saturday?”

  I didn’t expect the question and it takes me a moment to answer him. If I said yes, Kyle would move on, and I wouldn’t have to worry about him putting moves on Livia, but I can’t lie; she would hate me for that.

  “Nope. Nothing happened.” I gesture to the table. “You wanna break?”

  “You hesitated, dude. I’m not sure if I believe you.”

  “Believe whatever you want.” I say, and feel Kyle studying me.

  After playing two games, Kyle puts a fifty-dollar bill in his pocket. “I’m out,” I say, taking a sip from my Coke.

  “Your game is off tonight,” says Kyle. “If you were drinking, I would blame the alcohol.”

  “I’ve just got things on my mind right now.”

  But Kyle knows me too well and he knows something isn’t right. The look on his face confirms my suspicion. Three months of fighting hasn’t affected our ability to read one another.

  “Well, I gotta get some sleep,” I add, heading for the door. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  * * *

  As I’m pulling out of Matt’s gate, I see a person standing outside. It’s a guy in a hoodie, and he steps out right in front of my fender. I hit the brakes hard. He crosses in front of my car and goes right for my window, which is down because the evening is warm. He pulls the hood off his face—the Stevens guy is standing next to my window. Anxiety courses trough my limbs, and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

  I stare at him, contemplating if I should roll up my window or not. He obviously followed me here. He could be a psychopath, or he could have information. I remember what he was saying in Dad’s office and I don’t know if I really want to know the truth behind it.

  But before I can make up my mind, he says, “We need to talk. Let me in.”

  “You are not getting in my car. In fact, I have nothing to say to you.” I am hoping he’ll turn around and leave.

  “I’m sure you have many questions about yourself, and I can give you the answers.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about, and if you don’t leave my father and me alone, I’ll report you to the cops.” I shut my window, step on the gas, and drive away.

  It was a mistake to even stop the car. What was I thinking? What could a stranger possibly know about me? He said he has answers, but how? And to what questions?

  When I get home, I find Dad on the computer in his office.

  “Adam!” He smiles. “How are you?”

  “Good, I guess.” I walk closer to him, my hands a little shaky, either from anger or frustration. “Dad, who was that guy yelling at you at the hospital the other day?”

  He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “He’s an unstable man, Adam. Probably due to a trauma he went through seventeen years ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “He lost his child the night you were born. He had a bad car accident and his infant son didn’t survive. The day he was checked out of the hospital was the same day your mom and I were taking you home. He saw us in the parking lot and came up to us, screaming that we were taking his son. Security had to take him away.” Dad shakes his head and sighs. “Poor guy, a tragedy like that can really mess up someone’s head.”

  Dad studies me and I study him back, measuring his ability to lie to my face.

  I remember Stevens saying his son was never hurt or sick. Then Dad said Stevens checked in to the hospital due to a bullet wound, not a car accident. I should believe what Dad is saying—it makes sense—but something doesn’t feel right. I nod, pretending that I buy his story, and leave the room.

  I am going to piece this together on my own. The next time I see Stevens, we’ll have our talk.

  11 Livia

  I’m feeling pretty good about taking a shower and dressing all by myself this morning. My leg is far better than I expected it to be forty-eight hours after the accident. The only thing bothering me right now is this cast. It’s awkward to walk with and I feel like I’m going to lose my balance. Of all things, it feels unnecessary.

  In the kitchen, there’s still coffee in the pot. From out the window, I can see Mom talking to Adam. I make my way to the sliding door just as they’re coming in.

  “Livia! Why didn’t you call me to go get you?” Mom says, staring at me.

  “I feel better. My leg doesn’t hurt. I didn’t want to bother you.” I wave at Adam, who is dressed in a black and white flannel shirt and nice jeans—not riding clothes.

  Mom gives me a look but says, “I have to go to the grocery store and Adam is going to stay here and keep you company.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter!” I snap. I don’t want Adam to think I’m needy.

  “Livia, thank him for the favor.” She turns to look at Adam, who is giving me a taunting “you’re in trouble now” look. “I appreciate you coming over, Adam. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Take your time, Mrs. Berwick. I don’t have any place to be.” Of course, he is all good manners now.

  Mom hurries to leave with the boys and Adam makes his way into the house. Bento comes up to him, smelling him up and down. “Hey boy!” Adam says, tousling his ears. He turns his attention to me. “So your leg doesn’t hurt at all?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” I sit down at the kitchen table.

  “That’s what you told Kyle yesterday, and then you told me something different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was telling Matt and me last night that you were feeling great. But I recall watching you wince in pain and asking for pillows.” He’s opening all the cabinets, searching for cups.

  “The cups are in the top left one. And about Kyle, I’m glad you two made up.”

  “You like him, don’t you?” He gets a cup of water and sits next to me. “You didn’t want him to worry about you.”

  “It’s not like that,” I say, meeting his gaze. I don’t understand where this is coming from or why he’s worrying so much. “I just don’t want anyone feeling bad for me.”

  “You didn’t bother to hide the truth from me.”

&
nbsp; “Did you want me to?” He runs his hand through his hair, leaning back in the chair. “I was just wondering why.”

  “With you, I don’t feel the need to pretend. It’s not like you really care if I’m better or not.” I look away from him.

  “Why would you think that? I do care.” His voice is sharp with frustration.

  “You care because you think this is your fault, not because you care for me.”

  “You couldn’t be more wrong.” His eyes drill into mine and I swear I see a glimpse of irritation. I’m not sure if he really means what he says, but the possibility that he does care makes me want to smile, and when I do, he bites his bottom lip.

  “So what do you want to do?” he asks.

  “I don’t really care.”

  “We could watch funny videos online.”

  “That sounds good, actually!”

  He stands and offers me a hand. I take it, and his touch makes me shiver inside. I wonder if he notices the effect he has on me. After all, his face has been a constant presence in my mind these past few days.

  “Where’s your computer?”

  “It’s in my room upstairs,” I say, walking over to the stairs. He rushes to my side, putting his hand on my lower back. We are so close to one another, I can feel his body heat.

  “I’m fine to walk, really. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

  He gives me space but lingers close enough to catch me should I overestimate myself.

  We get to my bedroom door and he pushes it open. “I took Aphrodite for a run today,” he starts up. “She did fine, but Alo is coming over in the afternoon to do some real training on her.”

  “Thanks for checking on her,” I reply, and his returning smile is sincere.

  We end up sitting on my bed, watching stupid YouTube videos until we’re snorting with laughter. Adam laughs so hard that it makes me laugh at him instead of the videos.

  Mom is taking longer than I expected. The time flies by and I soon realize how long it’s been. I look at Adam cautiously and say, “I’m sorry you had to babysit. It’s really nice of you. Are you sure you don’t have to be anywhere?”

  “I don’t have to be at work ’til later. I volunteer at the hospital.”

  Volunteer at the hospital? I didn’t expect that of him. “So there is a good Adam underneath it all.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, yet,” he says, still smiling. “Did you know we have the same birthday?”

  “Are you serious? How do you know that?”

  “I saw your Facebook page.”

  “Were you stalking me?” I ask, amused.

  “It’s not private, but, hey, if you feel violated, I’ll let you look at mine.”

  He leans closer and turns my computer around to face him. I watch him as he types on the keyboard. His eyes are fixed on the screen, waiting for the page to download; my hand inches closer to him as if it has a mind of its own.

  No—his proximity is messing with me. I feel like I should put some distance between us, but it’s difficult to move with this cast. As soon as I start shifting around on the bed, Adam springs up.

  “Here, let me help you!” He stands across from me to hold my arms and pulls me to a standing position, but I’m not paying enough attention, and my body weight falls on my bad leg. I go tumbling forward, and Adam tries to hold me, but he loses his balance and we both drop to the floor.

  He props himself up on his side and looks at me, laughing, and I can’t help but laugh, too.

  “Are you okay?” His eyes suddenly go wide. “You hurt yourself!” He reaches for my face and gently touches my left eyebrow. “It’s bleeding.”

  “I think it was your watch or something.” I reach for the cut, too, but find his hand instead. He looks at me and fixes his eyes on mine.

  “I’m sorry.” He moves his hand lower, caressing my cheek. My heart starts pounding as his face leans closer to mine. He hovers, letting his gaze travel to my lips. Our bodies are so close, and I reach for his face.

  My bedroom door flies open, and I freeze.

  “Livia!” Ian walks in the room. Adam jumps to his feet. He looks at Ian and then at me, and sticks out a hand to help me up.

  Ian looks confused. “What is going on? You’re bleeding!”

  “I fell trying to get out of the bed.”

  “Mom is looking for you.”

  I wave him away. “Tell her I’m in my room.”

  Ian nods and leaves. I look at Adam and he’s staring at the door. “I better go,” he sighs.

  “I’ll see you later.” I sit back on my bed. Adam watches, but this time he doesn’t offer to help. His mind is someplace else. He turns to leave, stopping at the door, and glancing back once. I meet his eyes and he holds my gaze for a moment before stepping out without another word.

  * * *

  Dad comes home early from work and lets me watch as he and Alo take Sicilian into the round pen. Alo is a Native American of Chinook blood. He looks like he’s in his mid-thirties—he’s tall, bulky and a just plain nice person. As soon as I met him, I could feel almost nothing besides his love for Sicilian and the others. He said that he always grows attached to the horses he trains. They are just like children to him and Aphrodite is no different. He’ll be coming here this whole week to train her exclusively.

  As I walk back into the house, I marvel at the condition of my leg. The pain is completely gone, just like it never happened, and my suspicions are starting to converge under the only possible explanation.

  “Mom?” I search around as those thoughts make me apprehensive. She’s sitting in the living room, reading a Home and Garden magazine. She raises her eyebrows in a questioning look when I come in. “Is there any chance that I didn’t break my leg—a medical mistake, perhaps?”

  She frowns. “No.” She lingers on the word. “I saw the X ray myself, why?”

  I ease myself onto the arm of the couch. “If there was no mistake, then there’s nothing to explain why it’s completely healed.”

  “Well I’m glad you’re feeling better, but don’t be silly!”

  I shake my head. “Mom, the fracture is gone. We can take the cast off and you’ll see.”

  “Take the cast off?” Dad walks into the house, dusting off his hands. “What are you talking about, Livia?”

  “My leg healed itself and I want the cast off so I can see it for myself.”

  Mom and Dad exchange looks. “I don’t think that would be a wise decision,” Dad says. I can feel him understanding me, and also pushing that understanding away.

  “I’m serious Dad, I just have this feeling that—” I trail off. “I need to know.”

  Dad’s already speaking. “No is my final answer!”

  His phone rings. He walks away and I stomp to my room, ignoring my mother behind me.

  12 Adam

  I finished with my shift at the hospital about an hour ago but, before I left, I checked into the medical records and snuck out a copy of mine. I just need to know if there was any truth to what that Stevens guy said. Dad expects me to take his word and just leave it be, but my instincts tell me there is more to it. So, I’ve been sitting in the Jeep going through my medical records. There isn’t much to them, because I haven’t had any major medical issues. I don’t even remember ever getting sick; maybe a cold here and there, but nothing serious.

  I read the first couple pages—it’s written that I was born suffering from infant respiratory distress syndrome. I don’t really understand what RDS is, but I assume it’s life threatening. My health improved remarkably in a period of twenty-four hours after my birth, leaving no signs of the disease. Two pages later, it says, “Adam Cooper, five days old, shows no sign of RDS, recommendation to follow up only at regular checkups”.

  I sigh as I realize that I’ll have to do much more digging to find anything of value in all of this.

  My phone rings and, in the middle of this chaos in my head, I still smile when I see who’s calling. “Livia?”
r />   “Hey, are you still in the hospital?”

  “About to leave, why?”

  “Can you come over?”

  Something in her voice makes me put the Jeep into gear and drive as fast as I can. I pull into her driveway minutes later, and she’s already standing outside. Before I can get out, she’s opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat. I can’t help but stare at her sudden ability to walk and climb up into my Jeep without help, but I’m mostly staring because her beauty stuns me. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, leaving her neck exposed. She has such smooth and flawless skin, and her turquoise eyes are intense and fixed on mine. Her eyelids are puffy, as if she has been crying. I fight the urge to pull her into my arms and tell her that everything will be okay.

  “I’m sorry to bother you but—”

  “You’re not bothering me.” I say too eagerly. She doesn’t need to apologize. In fact, I’m glad she called. It takes my mind off things that I don’t want to think about. “Where to?”

  “I don’t know where to, exactly.” She gazes back at her house. “Anywhere.”

  I drive to my house. I know Dad is working late today and Mom left to visit Grandma after lunch, taking Amanda and Caleb with her; she won’t be home until tomorrow. Kevin should be the only one at home right now. I park the Jeep and, this time, Livia waits for me to help her down. We walk around to the back of the house and I open my bedroom door from the patio. Livia ambles into my room and I see her looking around; I’m glad the room is clean. “Nice and big,” she says, sitting on the couch. “Do you always have friends over? It looks like a bachelor pad.”

  “Kyle comes over a lot to play video games, but that’s it.” I open the fridge and grab a bottle of Gatorade. “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “Water would be good, thanks.”

  I watch as her lips linger on the bottle as she drinks. She catches me staring, but I don’t move my eyes away. I grin at her instead and she hides a smile.

  I wish we could pick up from where we left off the last time we were alone in her room. I care about what she thinks and what she thinks of me, and I want to do this right. I don’t want to make the wrong move.