by Noelle Adams
“I’ve had counseling up the wazoo,” he bit out. “I might have the occasional nightmare. It doesn’t mean I’m falling apart.”
“I’m not saying you’re falling apart. Just that everyone needs a little help.” She got out of bed, determined to do what she was sure was the right thing, no matter how little he wanted to hear it. She reached into a drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a folder. “They gave me all these resources here—and some are counselors in the area. Maybe we should give one of them a call.”
“Damn it, Sophie, it was just a nightmare.”
She swallowed at the angry note in his voice, but she didn’t let it intimidate her. “It’s not about the nightmare. I just think it would do both of us good—to get a little extra help.”
“So now you need help too—help in putting up with me?”
She made a frustrated sound. “Mark, don’t twist my words. You know they said you might need more than just a month of counseling. You went through a lot. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or helpless. It just means you’re human. It’s silly to act like you’re invulnerable when we both know you’re not.”
“I thought I was doing all right.” His tone was different now—slightly insecure. He was searching her face, and she wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “Overall, I thought I was doing all right.”
“Of course, you’re doing all right. But you’re having nightmares, and you still don’t want to open up with me, and you don’t even want to think about getting back to your job or doing anything at all. Don’t you think some extra help might be…might be helpful?”
Mark stared at her for a long time. Then finally he said, “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”
She was about to respond, glad to have the conversation over, but he turned around and walked out of the room.
***
That afternoon, Sophie was still worried about Mark.
He was acting normal again—at least, what had passed for normal since he’d returned—but she could sense something brewing inside him. And something different was brewing inside her.
She desperately needed to talk to someone, but she wasn’t sure who she should call. If she talked to anyone in Willow Park, they would be sympathetic and understanding, but they wouldn’t be able to give her very good advice, since they didn’t know Mark very well themselves.
The only person who knew Mark as well as Sophie did was John, but she never called John up out of the blue. She didn’t know where in the world he was right now. It might be the middle of the night for him. He might be incredibly busy. She might be the last person he wanted to talk to right now.
But she was desperate. She had to talk to someone, so she made herself dial his number and wait as it rang.
“Hello?” It was John’s voice, surprised and a little gravelly. “Hello, Sophie?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to bother you.”
“Is everything all right? Is Mark—”
“He’s fine,” she said quickly, responding to the immediate urgency of his voice. “He’s fine. It’s not an emergency or anything. I’m sorry to worry you.”
“No, it’s okay. You can call any time.”
She swallowed, telling herself there was no reason to feel nervous about calling her brother-in-law. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Sure. I was just about to turn in for the night, so it’s a good time. What’s going on? How are you doing?”
It was nice that he asked about her, and it gave her the opening she needed. “I’m okay, for the most part. I’m just worried about Mark. I feel like I’ve hit some sort of brick wall. And I didn’t know who else to talk to about it. Just tell me if it’s awkward for you or you’d rather not—”
“No, I’m glad you called. I’ve been worried about him too. Every time I think he’s making progress, something will happen, and he’ll kind of close down again.”
She was so relieved to hear him express exactly what she’d been experiencing with Mark that she gave a soft little sob. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what happens. I think it’s me. I think I’m doing it. But I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t know how to do better.”
“It’s not you, sweetheart. I’m sure you’re not doing anything wrong.”
“I am. Not on purpose, but I always seem to trigger the shutdowns. I don’t know why. Does he talk to you about it?”
“He talks to me almost every day, and sometimes he’ll open up. But, when he’s in a certain mood, he won’t talk to me about anything that goes deep. I really don’t think he can talk to anyone. It’s not that he wants to shut us out. It’s that he’s trying so hard to deal with all the shit he’s been through.”
She sniffed, her heart aching for her husband. “I know he is. Things were going really well. I thought we’d had…we’d had a breakthrough earlier this week.”
“I think you did. He’s sounded so…so hopeful this week.”
“But then last night he had a nightmare. It was…it was terrible. I tried to help, but he just closed down again this morning, after he was feeling better.”
“Yeah, he sounded really out of it this morning. I wondered what was going on.”
“He seemed to need me last night. I felt like I was helping him. I don’t understand why he—”
“Of course, he needed you. That’s why he closed down this morning. He doesn’t want to be weak and helpless—particularly around you.”
“But I’m his wife! I don’t care if he’s—”
“I know you don’t care. But he cares. He wants to be strong and healthy and have it all together for you.”
“But it’s ridiculous for him to expect himself to get better so quickly, after what he’s been through.”
“Of course it’s ridiculous,” John said gently. “But we think and believe and act on ridiculous ideas all the time. That’s part of what it means to be human.”
She let out a sigh, thinking through what he’d just said. The words rang true, but they didn’t give her the answer she needed. “So what am I supposed to do? I can’t act like he’s got it all together when he’s still struggling with a lot. He won’t even go to counseling.”
“Yeah, that’s another symptom of the same lie he’s telling himself. It’s normal, Sophie. I see it all the time. He’s just got to get to the point where he can admit to himself that he can’t pull himself together on his own. He’ll get there. He really has gotten a lot better over the last month.”
“I know he has. He’s amazing. I don’t know how anyone could do better than he’s done.”
“A lot of that is thanks to you,” John said.
“I don’t think so. I think I’ve mostly just messed things up.”
“No, you haven’t. You’ve been incredible. Mark knows it too. He talks about you all the time.”
“He…he does?”
“Of course, he does. He’s crazy in love with you. He can’t stop himself from talking about you.”
The words were light—almost amused—but they were balm to Sophie’s soul. She swallowed over a lump in her throat. “Really?”
“You’ve got to already know that. He’s been a goner since the first time he met you. But I really think he loves you more now than he did before, if that’s possible.”
“Really?” she asked again, rather raspily.
“Oh, yeah. You’re pretty incredible. If someone as clueless and out of touch as I am can see it, you better believe that Mark sees it. He’s trying to show you. I know he’s been trying to show you. I know it’s hard, but I hope you’ll…”
“I’ll what?”
“You’ll keep being patient with him. He’s trying. Don’t give up on him yet.”
She gasped. “I’m not going to give up on him!”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then John said, “Good.”
Neither one of them said anything for several seconds. Then Sophie followed the line of her thoughts and asked, “Has he talked to you about…about what
he went through over there?”
“A little. Not much.”
“He won’t talk to me about it much either. The first time he did was…was earlier this week, when I thought we had a breakthrough. He even brought it up himself.”
“If he brought it up, then it was definitely a breakthrough. You should be happy about that.”
“I was. I am. They told me not to push him too hard—that it might backfire—but it’s so hard…not to know. You don’t think he was…he was…he says he wasn’t tortured or anything.”
“I don’t think he was. As far as I can tell, what really traumatized him most was what he heard or saw, not what directly happened to him. I don’t think there’s a dark secret he’s holding back from us—one that will finally be revealed and fix everything. That’s not usually how it works. He may never want to talk to us about the details. A lot of people live like that their whole lives, and it’s not the end of the world. People cope in different ways.”
“Yeah,” Sophie agreed, strangely relieved by John’s words, by the idea that she wasn’t responsible for dragging some secret memory out of her husband. “That makes sense. He’s really been doing well, overall, I think.”
“Of course, he has. I’d have drunk myself into a stupor, if I was in his shoes. I know I would have.”
“Me too,” she admitted, surprised to realize that tears were streaming down her face. She sniffed and said, “Sorry. I try not to cry all the time.”
John laughed. “Are you serious?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why wouldn’t you cry? After what you’ve been going through, anyone would be crying all time.”
“It’s Mark who’s gone through it. Not me.”
“Don’t be silly, sweetheart. Of course, you’re going through it too.”
***
Gabe and Lydia Alexander lived in a big, beautifully restored Victorian in one of the best neighborhoods in Willow Park.
Sophie didn’t know Gabe very well, but he had evidently made a bundle of money in business, although he’d mostly given up his role in his company to be co-director of a business-center ministry in India. A lot of his work was fundraising and administration, which he was able to do from the States, so he and Lydia were planning to stay in Willow Park through the spring. Gabe was big and handsome and had a laidback smile, and he and Lydia threw a very good Christmas party.
Sophie had been excited about going. She’d gone to a few Christmas parties in Willow Park last year, but she’d always had to go by herself. She’d been looking forward to going this year with her husband. She was so proud of him. He was so smart and strong and resilient and funny—even if he wasn’t as light-hearted as he used to be. People always liked Mark, and she wanted all of her friends in town to know how amazing he was.
After the incident this morning, she’d been afraid he would pull out of going, but he didn’t. They were back to acting polite with each other, and she didn’t know if that was progress since this morning or not. She felt encouraged after her conversation with John, but she still wished she knew what to do to get through to Mark.
Trying to be hopeful and get into a holiday spirit, she dressed in a pretty green dress and sparkly jewelry. She’d bought Mark a dark red dress shirt that looked really good on him, and he wore it with a pair of black trousers.
She was feeling better after they arrived, like they were a normal couple, like any of the other couples who were gradually filling up the large ground floor of the Alexanders’ house. Mark was chatting with Micah Duncan, who had flipped this house and was showing Mark some of the custom woodwork in the kitchen, while Sophie was helping Lydia pour out drinks.
Sophie couldn’t help but occasionally glance over toward Mark, to make sure he was still having a good time. This was the first time he’d met Micah, but he seemed to like him. A lot. Maybe more than any of the other men he’d met in town so far.
Evidently, she didn’t hide her discreet observation well enough, because Lydia turned to peer over toward the men. “Are you afraid he’s going to sneak out and run away?” she asked, at finding the source of Sophie’s distraction.
Sophie knew Lydia well enough to understand that the direct question wasn’t intended to be rude. “No. No. Sorry. He just doesn’t know that many people in town yet. I wanted to make sure he had someone to talk to.”
“He and Micah seem to be getting along pretty well,” Lydia said. “Micah gets along with everyone, and Mark seems to be pretty friendly. Everyone who knows him so far likes him. At least, that’s what they tell me.”
“Oh, good, I’m glad to hear it,” Sophie said, a little embarrassed that her worry was obvious and that people were evidently talking about her and Mark. “He’s good with people.”
Mark had always been good with people before. It was only since he’d returned that he’d withdrawn, and that was hardly surprising.
“How are you adjusting to being back from India?” Sophie asked, wanting to change the subject and also genuinely interested.
“It’s mostly good,” Lydia said with a wide smile. She was lovely and always seemed to glow with authenticity and genuine interest in other people. “I love this town, and I love this house, and I love being back with my whole family. But it’s a strange transition. I see so much that’s so…so hard, in the work I do. Sometimes I feel almost guilty for being so comfortable here.”
Sophie thought about that. “Wow. Yeah. I guess I can see that.”
“But I feel like this is home,” Lydia said, smiling as her eyes rested on her husband, who was in some sort of deep discussion with his daughter, Ellie, and Abigail and Thomas’s daughter, Mia. Both girls were dressed up in pretty Christmas dresses. “And there’s nowhere like it in the world.”
“Yeah. It’s strange, since I haven’t lived here very long, but this feels like home to me too.” Sophie looked around the room, filled with people she knew. She didn’t like everyone she could see, but she liked a lot of them, and some she even loved.
“You think you’ll stay?”
Sophie shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s really up to Mark.”
“What’s up to Mark?” The male voice surprised her, as did the arm that wrapped around her waist. Mark tilted his head down to see her face. To anyone else, he probably looked like an adoring husband, but she felt like he was still miles away from her.
“Whether you stay in Willow Park or not,” Lydia replied, evidently not worried at all that it wasn’t a conversation he was supposed to have heard.
Mark looked from Lydia’s face to Sophie’s. “You better start from the beginning.”
“Sophie was just saying that she loved Willow Park and thought about it as home,” Lydia explained, handing out glasses of wine and punch to the very large Harris clan, which included a mother, a father, a grandmother, and five children. When she’d welcomed them all and passed out the drinks, she returned to the conversation, finishing, “So I asked her if you all were planning to stay here, and she said it was up to you.”
“It’s not just up to me,” Mark murmured.
“I know,” Sophie said quickly, making sure he understood the full context for her comment. “But a lot will depend on your job. If he takes the job the station has in mind for him, we might end up in New York.”
“Oh, wow,” Lydia said with wide eyes. She was about to continue, when a wine spill across the room caught her attention. She grabbed a roll of paper towels and ran over to help clean it up.
Mark and Sophie looked at each other for a moment, and she couldn’t tell if he was still feeling as defensive as he had this morning.
But surely a simple conversation about where they might live wouldn’t make him defensive.
“Did I hear you might move to New York?” Micah asked. He’d been standing near a plate of cookies, digging in, but he stepped closer to them as he spoke, his blue eyes interested.
Sophie didn’t know Micah very well, but it was impossible not to like h
im. “It’s just a possibility.”
“I’d hate to live in the big city,” Micah said, taking the last bite of a cookie.
Mark’s arm was still around Sophie’s waist, but he felt stiffer than he had before. “Yeah. I’m not sure that’s what we’ll end up doing.”
“You all should stay here.” Micah twitched his eyebrows. “I could use Mark on the church volleyball team.”
Mark smiled. “You might be sorry you had that suggestion. I might be tall, but that’s about my only skill in volleyball.”
“Tall is better than nothing. Right now, we’re not getting anywhere, since Daniel insists he stay on the team, and he can’t serve the ball to save his life.”
Sophie laughed, glad that the topic had been lightened. She actually would love for Mark to be on the church volleyball team. He wasn’t the best player ever, but he wasn’t that bad, and he would probably really enjoy it.
She wanted him to have friends again. She wanted him to have someone more than his brother to talk to. She wanted him to be part of a community, as much as she wanted to be close to him herself.
Things were getting better, but he still was holding himself back—from everyone, and not just her. He could make casual conversation with the best of them, but he still wasn’t putting down roots.
But maybe he knew they wouldn’t be ending up here for the long run. Maybe the reason was as simple as that.
Maybe he was wondering if he would even stay with her.
She couldn’t believe she’d even had that thought, and she hurriedly pushed it out of her mind.
“So you think you might stay in Willow Park?” Micah asked, leaning against the quartz countertop that his crew had installed last year, before Gabe and Lydia had bought the house. “What would you do here?”
“I don’t know,” Mark said. He felt tense again, although he still hadn’t pulled his arm away from her.
She reached out to put a hand on his belly, some sort of instinctive claim of possession…or maybe comfort. “It’s hard to work for a news channel in Willow Park, you know.”