by Rossi, Carla
“With your permission, I’d like to schedule you to work with that age next week. I’m going to insist he come here with me. I’m hoping you can observe him, maybe try to draw him out and let me know your professional opinion of his behavior.”
Gia scanned her brain for questions. The community center was not an overnight Christian summer camp. Most activities were co-ed, and the kids went home by six o’clock. She could easily interact with Ty.
“I appreciate the candidness of our conversation and the confidence you have in me. I’ll try my best, but Ty is an angry, adolescent boy. He might do well with someone like himself, a guy, someone he can identify with.”
“Understood. I’ve already spoken to a young man on staff who might relate.”
“How is Ty’s relationship with you? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Not at all. I have two daughters who think they are princesses. Ty was always my little buddy. He’s been with my family a lot. We used to spend hours on the basketball court. Now it reminds him of things he thinks he can’t do anymore. And,” he said and checked his watch, “speaking of that, I’m late to referee a game. We can talk about it more on the way if you like.”
“Not necessary. I’ll do what I can.”
“I appreciate that, Gia. Glad you’re here.”
“No problem. What exactly is Ty’s disability?”
“He has an incomplete spinal cord injury and uses a wheelchair. Do you have any experience with that?”
****
Gia started the car after work and lowered the windows so clouds of steamy heat could billow out. Her phone rang as she waited for the A/C to blow cold air and overtake the blazing afternoon sun.
It was Rocky, and he wanted to know if she was talking and driving. There had been a lively discussion the night before where she admitted to talking to her mom a lot on the way to and from work. She also admitted tapping out the occasional text while at a stop light. The whole thing ended with her all but promising she would not touch her phone while the car was in motion. She had a sneaky suspicion he didn’t follow his own rule.
“No, I am not driving. Are you talking and driving?”
“Yes, but it’s actually my truck calling you so it doesn’t count. My phone’s in my pocket.”
“How does it not count? You still could be distracted from driving while having this conversation.”
“How was your day?”
“The most incredible thing happened. You won’t believe what my boss talked to me about. It’s such a God thing. It has to be. I mean, who else could arrange it so two completely unrelated people and places and situations could cross paths? It’s like God placed me at this job at the same time this other person would be here. And he’s facing issues I was familiar with because of all my work with children, but still didn’t have any real experience with until recently. And now I have a close resource I can get information from and maybe actually help this person. I always believed God was closer to our daily lives than a lot of people think. Some people think God is often hands-off and lets us learn with our own choices and consequences. I believe that’s true sometimes, but I also believe when God really wants to move He gets right in there and shuffles things for His glory and uses us the way He wants to get things done. Like us, for example, look how you and I got together. I still can’t believe how God orchestrated all that and what he did today.”
There was a pause.
“Rocky?”
“I’m here. I don’t know how you can accuse me of talking and driving when you haven’t let me say a word.”
She hung up on him.
He rang back in mere seconds.
“Sorry,” he said. “I really can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Are you on your way back from camp? How was your talk?”
“I am. Talk was good. I saw Rebekah and did what you asked.”
“Was she shocked? Is she coming?”
“No, not really shocked. Yes, she is coming this weekend to the wedding reception. Yes, she will keep her mouth shut. Does she always behave like she’s had too many energy drinks?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Rocky? What is it? I need to put the car in drive and get home, but I can tell something’s on your mind.”
“There was mail for you.”
“Oh.” She turned the vent to blow cold air directly on her face. “I’m not worried about it. It’s evidence now. I’m safe, you’re safe... We’ll deal with it however we need to.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said. “And uh...”
“What?”
“You’re not thinking anymore about doing what we talked about are you?”
“I haven’t ruled it out, Rocky. Especially now. I still maintain the letters are his way of toying with me because he thinks I don’t know. He thinks I never put it together because of the drugs he gave me. He thinks he got away with something and scrambled my brains. For my own sanity I need to face him and say hey, I know what you did, the police know what you did...”
“Promise me you would never do that without me.”
“I can’t promise that. You can’t be there for this. I have to do it. That rapist doesn’t get to know who you are. He doesn’t get to have knowledge of anything else that’s mine. All I can promise is that I will stay safe. I’m not putting myself or this baby in any danger.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up when you’ve clearly had a great day otherwise. Don’t think about it anymore. I’ll see you when I get home.”
“OK. Take your time but hurry.”
Gia headed home with the knowledge of the letter strangely lightening her mood. She could stop beating herself up for the impulsive destruction of the previous mail. Now she had another chance to use it for the future protection of nameless and faceless college girls by adding its existence to her statement. It didn’t matter if she read it or not. It only mattered because it connected the crime against her to the criminal who perpetrated it. And once she faced the slimy jerk, she could finally put it all behind her.
She arrived at the house and inched her car toward the curb to avoid the trash can. She dragged it and the recycling bin from the street to the garage door and left them there until Rocky got home to put them away.
She looked over, and Rocky’s ex-and-still-bitter-girlfriend was staring at her with her hands on her hips.
Gia smiled and waved. “Hello, Mrs. Konchesky.”
“Hello,” she responded coolly and adjusted her wide-brimmed garden hat. She glanced at the can and shook her head as she turned away.
“That’s great,” Gia mumbled. “Now she thinks I’m too lazy to put things back where they belong. Would if I could, you mean old lady, would if I could.”
She opened the front door and immediately noticed a blast of heat. “Oh Lord, please, we do not need an air conditioner repair.” She stretched to hold her hand under the closest vent. It was blowing cold air and the unit was chugging along as usual. She rounded the corner into the kitchen and noticed the door to the garage was standing wide open. Waves of warmth from the un-air-conditioned space wafted into the kitchen. Someone could have broken in, but she remembered seeing Rocky’s giant TV as she passed through. Nothing else was out of place. It simply must not have closed all the way when Rocky left through it that morning.
She rushed to push it closed, then stopped to scan the room from her own side of the door. Beams of filtered light cascaded through the narrow strip of decorative windows at the top of the metal garage door and rested on... Nearly nothing.
Humph. Worried she would get hurt. Lies.
Was it wrong if she only accidentally saw things and didn’t purposely go against his wishes? Especially when his story about the dangerous clutter was more than an exaggeration of the truth.
The exercise equipment Bev talked about sat on one end and sure, there were boxes and plastic storage containers stacked along the wall, but there was no danger. The other end contain
ed neat and shiny tool chests and a peg board with extra-long hooks held an assortment of bicycle helmets and gloves. There were other fancy tools. She knew he liked to work on cars, but she was sure there were NASCAR garages that weren’t this well-equipped.
Then there was the tarp. The large blue cover rested on a bulky pile of something big enough to take up one whole corner. She strained to take a look and saw only what looked like wheels poking out from one side.
“This is ridiculous,” she yelled at the ceiling as she stormed the pile. “I’m only a hormonal human, and I wouldn’t even be out here if that jacked-up door hadn’t been open!”
But now that she was, why not turn on a light?
She flipped the switch and pulled the corner of the tarp.
And had no idea what she was looking at.
There were wheels and tires in varying sizes, a pile of cables, and several metal parts she didn’t recognize. Two seats rested against each other with a stack of unopened boxes on them with labels that read cassette, shifter, or brake. Large brightly colored metallic pieces reminded her of the front forks of the mountain bikes at camp, or possibly a go kart frame. But if there was a whole bicycle or go kart in the pile, she couldn’t see how it all went together. Especially since none of the parts were typical bicycle or go kart size.
Now she was ashamed, but mostly confused.
She flipped off the light. “Oh, Rocky. If this is what you’re hiding, you shouldn’t have bothered. I don’t know what it is anyway.”
15
Rocky waited by the door. “Can we go now?”
“I’m coming,” Gia answered. “I’m making sure I have everything.”
“What else do you need? You and my mother have been texting back and forth for days. It’s a party. She has everything you could possibly need over there.”
“Do you have your board shorts for swimming?”
“No, I do not,” he said and headed toward his room.
“What about your bass? Candi and Max said you all might provide some entertainment later on.”
“I think we ended up deciding against that, but I’ll take it.”
“That would be cool if it happened, huh? Shade Blackledge wailing on the guitar at our wedding reception. How many people get to say that?”
He rolled back to the door. He had forgotten both items, but that was the least of his worries. “Not you too,” he said and adjusted the guitar in his lap.
“Not me what?”
“Shade. Are you celebrity crushing on him too?”
“Not my type. And who’s crushing on him?”
“It’s not every day a real rocker comes to Cornerstone Fellowship. It took a couple weeks for everyone to calm down and forget we had an internationally famous guitarist in our midst.”
“He is something.” Gia added his shorts to her bag. “Candi’s been giving me the details. I think there might be a holiday wedding. I’ll be big as a house, but I’m already excited. And no, I’m not crushing.”
Sure, whatever. “Do you have your swimsuit?”
“Yes,” she said and patted the striped tote on her shoulder. “It’s right here. Along with sunscreen and insect repellent and a change of clothes.”
“Is it safe to put those chemicals on your skin? What about the chlorine in the pool?”
“Yes, it is, we had this conversation earlier, remember? In fact, your parents’ pool is going to be my best friend in a few months. Floating in the water is supposed to feel really good to huge pregnant women.”
“That was a test,” he said, embarrassed it had slipped his mind they had already talked about it. “What does your swimsuit look like? It’s not a bikini is it?”
She perched her sunglasses on her head and dropped the phone in the bag. “No, it’s not a bikini. Not only am I too shy and self-conscious for that kind of exposure, I’ve put on a few pounds. I have a basic one piece and will probably wear a pair of wind shorts over that. Why?”
“No reason,” he said and looked away, already knowing this was about to be a thing.
“Wait. Do you think I’m too fat to swim at the party? Is that it? Do you not want me to wear a bathing suit in front of your family? I’m already a whale, aren’t I?”
His grandpa had been right. He was dumber than a can of worms. And on top of his inherent dumbness, he’d become dazed, scatterbrained, and eons stupider than he was before they married. Why? Because he was completely bonkers over his wife and they had yet to connect intimately. Their distance, while living in the same house, had driven him to the brink of insanity and swiftly rolled him over the edge. Every day she kissed him, cuddled with him, scratched his back, and massaged his tired shoulders. Then every night they went to their own beds. She apparently slept like a baby while he banged his head against the wall and read Civil War books until he passed out. He may not be able to experience things the way other men did, but he could satisfy his wife as well as rub her lower back, put lotion on her feet, and hold her as she slept. He wanted to do all that if she would ever get her smooth luscious body into his bed. It was clear by the tears shimmering in her eyes—coupled with his supreme idiocy—that he was never doing to get to touch her soft squeezable parts.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That question came out completely wrong.”
“How was it supposed to come out?” She slashed a tear away. “Crazy hormones. I’m not a cream puff. I’m not supposed to be crying, but wait,” she touched her cheek and then rubbed her fingers together, “there’s another one. I have no control over this.”
Rocky smiled and shouldn’t have because he was already in trouble.
“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing at me?”
“I’m not laughing at you. You’re so cute and perfect you make me smile, that’s all.”
“But you said I’m a sea cow who can’t wear a bikini to your parents’ pool.”
“Gia, please. I didn’t say that, but I did ask an ill-advised question. I’m sorry. Can we go?”
“Why are you so concerned with my swimwear?”
“I’m not concerned with your swimwear. I was curious because we’ve never been swimming together.”
She marched toward the door and took the bass guitar out of his lap. “I’ll carry this. And by the way, you are really lame when you’re pussyfootin’ around the truth.”
“OK, stop. I’m not going to our wedding reception with you if you’re going to keep giving me snark.”
“Snark? Really?”
“Yes, really. The truth is you don’t realize how hard it is to be married to the most beautiful and desirable woman in Texas. I was asking for your own safety and my peace of mind. There could be a hundred and fifty people come and go at my parents’ house today. I have some creepy old uncles and some cousins who think they’re big players with the ladies. Some of my dad’s folks are real huggers, and someone is going to try and grab your butt. I don’t want to have to put a beat-down on anyone at our party. Especially a relative. That’s messy. So. There you have it.”
Now she was laughing. That was better than crying.
“Awww, you’re jealous. Why didn’t you say so?”
“I’m not jealous. I only wanted to be prepared. You in a bikini would make for a long, stressful day. For me at least.”
“There will be lots of pretty women there, Rocky. No one is going to be inappropriate, and I’m sure everyone can handle themselves.” She rested the bass on the ground while she bent to kiss him. It was the perfect combination of warmth and squishiness as she did something near-scandalous to his lower lip. “Besides, I only have eyes for you,” she said and messed with his hair.
“Woman, you are trying to kill me.”
“Oh relax, cowboy.” She opened the door. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
****
Gia scanned the backyard to see if Max had come in and then she headed for Bev’s kitchen. She emptied crumbs into the trash and opened new bags of chips.
She inten
ded to talk to Max about what she saw in the garage—without actually talking to Max about what she saw in the garage. She hadn’t confessed to Rocky yet about her snooping and she wasn’t going to compound the situation by saying too much behind his back. But she was going to try and get information out of Max.
Yeah. How was she going to do that?
“What are you doing in here?” Bev asked and swiped her hands across her white chef-style apron. “You should be out there enjoying your party.”
“I am. It’s an amazing party, but these bowls were empty.”
“Have you heard from your parents?”
“On their way. They had a funeral to attend this morning. They didn’t know about it until Thursday but that’s the way funerals are, then they got right on the road.”
“Good. Can’t wait to see them again.”
Gia smiled as she refilled chip and pretzel bowls. As Fourth of July parties went, it was about as Americana as it could possibly be considering it had been turned into a wedding reception with a heavy Greek influence. There were decorations to represent all of the above, and a five-foot-tall stack of wedding gifts in the dining room. She hadn’t expected that.
Everyone had started to gather at noon, but Bev warned her it would go on into the next morning. No one seemed to be in any hurry as old men stood in the shade and watched Nick cook on the pit, while old women sat around the kitchen table and talked about anyone who wasn’t there. Teens alternated between video games and the pool, while younger kids played under the breezeway where Nick had placed an industrial outdoor fan. Gia watched the gate for her new friends from church and for Rebekah, while Rocky checked on her about once every thirty minutes to make sure she was OK and to introduce her to a family friend or relative.
He checked on her again as she returned the bowls to the snack table in the garage. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. According to my app, I’m in between hosting a pink prune and a pink fig. All that growing in there is making me hungry.”
“That’s what’s supposed to happen. Are you having a good time?”