by Rossi, Carla
“I think so physically, but things are not good.”
“What happened?”
“I’m in love with my wife.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I’ve lost her.”
****
Gia cleaned the kitchen and left for work.
It felt odd to be clocking in and stashing her lunch in the fridge when everything was coming apart. She’d hurt her husband, cut him to the quick because she was barely functional in an adult relationship. She’d been careless with her words and his emotions, and had driven the most gentle and easy-going man she ever met to destroy a table. She was ashamed, desperate, and still reeling from his stinging answer to her ill-timed and not-well-thought-out evaluation of their situation.
Her recent loss still withered her heart. The thought of losing Rocky only added to her pain.
She’d let this happen. She would have to fix it.
If only he would pick up the phone or answer her texts.
Misty passed her in the hall between the time clock and the gym. “Hey, girl. Feeling better?”
“I’m getting there,” she lied. She felt way worse by the minute—emotionally, if not physically, too.
“You look a little pale.”
“I wanted to try and work. I’m not contagious or anything. Please tell Coach I made it back and will start on that project he put me on today.”
“Sure will. Let me know if you can’t stay. I can juggle some people.”
“I appreciate that.”
By eleven o’clock, she didn’t feel any worse. That wasn’t possible. She didn’t feel that much better either. She could only breathe because she’d heard from Rocky.
Please forgive me she’d texted.
I’m sorry I lost my temper he replied.
At least he’d finally answered and there was hope in his response.
She hadn’t seen Ty either and wasn’t that the whole point?
At lunchtime, Misty tracked her down to send her home.
“I don’t need to leave.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re not fooling anyone.”
“I can’t lose this job, Misty.”
“You couldn’t lose this job if you drove over the fourth generation of friendly squirrels that live behind the pool. Even if you did it in front of the four-year-olds.”
“Stop.”
“Coach thinks you’re great. He said to get better. He needs you well.”
“All right. I’ll go, but I’m going to swing by the game room first and see if I can spot someone I need to talk to.”
“OK, girl. Don’t stay too long.”
Gia headed down the long hallway to the pool. The game room was on the way and it was empty. She headed back and noticed someone huddled along the wall down an adjacent hall that led to the tennis courts. It was someone in a wheelchair, and he was so engrossed with spying through a split in the dance room observation window curtain, he did not hear her approach. She checked the posted schedule. Level Three Jazz—Twelve- to Sixteen-Year-Old Girls. So far, Ty was behaving exactly as any thirteen-year-old boy should.
“Do you know someone in the class?”
Ty jerked and spun away from the window. “No, Miss. I was on my way to the game room.”
“No hurry,” she said and peeked through the same tiny opening. “There are so many better things to do around here than play video games in that stuffy game room. You know,” she said and leaned against the wall, “they open the curtain twice a week for parents and friends to observe the class. It might be a little more appropriate if you came by then. Or you could take a class and join them.”
He gestured wildly at his chair. “I’m in a wheelchair, Miss. And I’m a guy.”
“Ppffftttt,” she said and waved his words away. “Wheelchair users dance all the time. I saw it happen the other night. There are classes in adaptive dance.”
“Do I look like that pasty white guy on Glee? I’m not dancing, Miss.”
“OK.” She extended her hand. “I’m Gia, by the way. And you must be Ty.”
He extended his blistered hand. They shook and she slid down the wall and stretched her legs out in front of her.
Ty was a cute and spirited wreck of a kid with a near-shaved head and light brown eyes. He was small for his age and clearly didn’t take very good care of his chair or his clothes. He didn’t smell that great either.
“Did my uncle send you to find me?”
“I’m new here, you’re new here. He thought we should meet.”
“Why?”
“I have a lot of camp experience with kids your age. He thought maybe I could help you find some activities to participate in here.”
“Why?”
“Because you need more exercise than sitting in that game room all day.”
“I’m in a wheelchair, Miss.”
“Not really an issue, Ty. You can participate in about everything they offer here. At the very least you should be in the pool. You need to be moving to help your muscles.”
He dropped his gaze. She could tell he’d thought about the pool but it was too overwhelming for him.
“Perhaps you and your uncle could check out the pool after hours when you’re alone. You can see how it goes. There’s a lift that will help you in and out. Or you could do like my husband and transfer straight out of your chair and hop in. You have to experiment to see what works for you. Then when you’re comfortable you can go when the other kids go and there’s a lifeguard on duty.”
“Your husband’s in a wheelchair?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why my uncle sent you.”
“Nope. Coach doesn’t know my husband uses a chair.”
“Did he have a car wreck?”
“No. His spine was injured in a fall. He was on a balcony that collapsed when he was in college.”
“And he swims?”
“He does anything he wants to do. Is it my turn to ask a question now?”
He looked down with a crooked grin and nodded.
“Where is your cushion?”
“It’s in Tennessee.”
“You need that cushion, Ty. Surely someone explained to you the dangers of pressure sores and the importance of back support.”
He shrugged.
“You need to ask your uncle to send for it.”
“Does your husband use his cushion?”
“Yes. He uses all kinds of cushions. Gel, foam, inflatable, cooling. It depends on what he’s doing and how his back feels. Promise me you’ll mention this to your uncle or I will.”
“Geeze, Miss, it’s a pillow.”
“Ty...”
“Yes, Miss. I’ll mention it.”
“You need to be using your gloves, too.”
“They’re hot.”
“Whatever. But here’s the thing. I’m guessing you’re hanging out at this window because there’s a girl in there you like. I can guarantee she’s not gonna want to hold that calloused paw of yours. I’m also guessing you’re starting high school in the fall. You need to get in shape for that.”
He looked away and smirked.
“Ty?”
“Yes, Miss,” he grudgingly agreed.
She stood and dusted off her shorts. “I have to go now, but I’m going to call your uncle about setting up your pool experiment. I’d also like to talk to you about some other activities and maybe plan some things with some other people. Are you game?”
“Sure.”
“OK. I’ll see you in a day or so. I’ve got some things to take care of. In the meantime, you should go online and research some sports you’d like to try and refresh your memory on how to take care of your body and keep yourself healthy. You have some choices to make, right?”
“Right.”
She extended her hand. “See you later then.”
He offered his and then pulled it back with a smile. “Nope. Too rough for the ladies.”
This made her truly smile for the first time a
ll day. “Nice.”
****
Gia changed her sheets and gathered all her belongings. She put everything in two boxes by the bedroom door. Amazing what she’d accumulated during her time in her husband’s guest room. She also cleaned her bathroom, packed an overnight bag, and wrote a note. Rocky would be furious, but how else was she supposed to fix her messy past and save her marriage? If she’d learned anything in the last few months, it was that God was always ready to help, heal, and repair. Even when it hurt beyond measure. Even when it didn’t make sense. Wasn’t it time to let Him finish the job? And wasn’t she tired of holding grudges and letting her own sense of shame decide how happy she should be?
Something had happened and was happening still.
Rocky, the baby, Ty, her new family, her new friends, the secrets in the garage, her work with kids, Rocky’s blossoming work with the youth... The list went on, but kept coming back to the first thing God told her.
Many a man claims to have unfailing love, but a faithful man who can find?
She taped the note across the crack in the kitchen table.
Rocky:
I’m sorry about this morning. I need to see my dad and take care of some things, but I’ll be back as soon as possible.
Gia
She hurried for the door. If she didn’t get out before he got home from work, it would be a hard sale to let her leave on her own. Another thought crossed her mind. She returned to the note.
P.S. I snooped in the garage. It started out as an accident. The door didn’t close when you took the trash out last Thursday. I’d really like to hear about hand cycling.
P.S.S. Romans 8:28.
18
Gia made it through the complex’s gated entrance by following too close to the car in front of hers that used a working entry code. A headache brewed near her right temple as the eyelid on the same side twitched intermittently. Her whole body thrummed with anxiety as she passed one lookalike building after another. Building A… Building D… Finally Building G…
She slipped into a space near the main stairwell and paused to let freezing air from the vent cool her face. The peace she longed and fought for was within her reach.
It was about to be so easy.
It was about to be so hard.
Apprehension faded to peace and fear gave way to resolve as the slithering rapist came down the steps and walked toward a car. She clutched the gift she brought for him. The whole thing would be over in forty-five seconds.
It was astounding how easy information was to come by. He’d left the university where the crime occurred and returned to his apartment in Waco, hours away. Arrogant criminals apparently didn’t worry about broadcasting personal information on social media. That, combined with the detective’s inadvertent disclosure, led Gia right to his home. His car served as her trap. She’d simply waited for him to appear. And appear he did. Ratty t-shirt, sloppy sandals, and a ragged pair of cargo shorts.
He wasn’t expecting company. She didn’t plan to stay for tea.
She left her car and approached his, not even bothering to close her door. She stopped at the low brick wall that separated the sidewalk from the parking lot. Close enough. She didn’t say a word.
“Gia.” His hand dropped from the car door handle to his side. First, shock on his face and then a tentative, smirkish grin. “What are you doing here? How did you…You haven’t answered—”
“I know what you did.” Her voice stayed steady and flat as tangled pain and seething anger released its grip. “The police know what you did. The mail you sent to camp will be examined and possibly used as evidence if it should happen to someone else. Don’t ever try to contact me again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She set the brown paper bag on the wall. “This is for you. Pick it up after I leave. Use it. It’s your only hope.”
Gia returned to her car and drove away.
She’d never been more free.
****
Rocky called Max.
Max called Candi and Shade. Now they were all in his kitchen eating pizza.
“When was the last time you saw her?”
Rocky flicked his paper plate away. He wasn’t interested in food. “When I left for work yesterday morning.”
“But you have talked to her, right?”
“She came home during the day and left before I got home. We’ve been texting, but we’re not talking.”
Candi traced the crack in the table. “Has this always been here?”
“No.”
Shade snacked on a piece of crust Candi had discarded. “Did she say where she was going?”
“She said she had to see her dad, but she hasn’t been there yet.”
“She said she was coming back, right?”
“Yes.”
Max poured more soda into his plastic cup. “She’ll be back, then. She has to come back.”
“Sure she will,” Candi said. “She’s had a traumatic few days and probably needed to connect with her family, but she loves you. She’ll be back.”
Rocky tried to keep his terror to himself. There was so much his friends didn’t know. Candi said Gia loved him. How did she know that? Had Gia said something to her? ‘Cause she’d never said it to him. He’d never said it to Gia either—he assumed she knew how he felt, and that could very well be the most inaccurate thing he’d ever assumed. Now it seemed like such an easy thing to have said.
“We had a big fight. I lost it. I knew she was hurting, and I lost it.”
“You’re both hurting,” Candi reminded him. “You’ve suffered a loss, too. Don’t forget that.”
Rocky tapped out a heavy beat on the ruined tabletop. “Have you heard from her? I know you two have been talking.
“I have.” Candi pulled a fresh napkin from the stack. “She texted about our tentative plan to get together next week. There was nothing off about her text. I’m sure between the pain she’s in and the fight you had she’s gone a little nuts. Sad to admit, but women are emotional creatures. It happens.”
“It does,” Shade was too quick to agree. “Candi’s gone nuts before.” He waved his hands in the air, crossed his eyes, and made a disturbing face. “I stay away and not come back until I have a tub of ice cream with me.”
Candi glared at him. “You’re not helping yourself or Rocky.”
“All I’m saying is this is normal. We all go a little nuts. It’s how you know you love each other. Otherwise, what would be the point?”
Rocky looked away, unable to meet their concerned gazes as he admitted to his primal behavior. “I got so mad I nearly put my fist through this table.”
Shade ran his fingers across the damage. “Not bad. I got so mad at Candi one time I punched my truck. I know it’s not something you’re proud of but I’m willing to bet it won’t happen again. You’re learning to navigate the treacherous waters of relationship fights.”
“Do go on,” Candi said.
“Can’t. That’s all I got.”
“What is this, Dr. Phil?” Max asked. “Stop with all the relationship talk. Let’s pray about it and watch a movie or something. She’ll be back. You’ll work it out.”
“I can’t watch a movie. I have to try and sleep sometime tonight.”
Max leaned in and closed his eyes. “Let’s get serious and pray about this, then.”
They prayed. It wasn’t fancy. Shade was short and to the point—Lord, please bring Rocky’s woman back. Max tied the whole thing up in a neat little package with an amen bow, and Rocky couldn’t concentrate on any of it.
“Text us when she gets home,” Candi said at the door.
“Yeah, dude,” Max added. “And get some sleep.”
Fat chance.
He checked his phone and parked himself at the door to her bedroom. It was cleaner than it’d ever been, right down to the scent of fabric softener wafting from the freshly laundered sheets and towels. He stared at the boxes by the door.
&n
bsp; “I don’t know, Lord. If she’s coming home, why does it look like she’s moving out?”
****
Gia waited outside her father’s office at the church. The cleaning crew buffed a floor in the foyer as the echo of voices from various meetings up and down the busy church hallway floated to her ears. It was best she talk to him there. If she’d gone to the house, her mother would hear. That would not do, especially since they’d rekindled a kind and supportive relationship. She’d learned a lot about her mother the last few weeks. Much of it surprised her.
Her father rushed around the corner with keys in hand and in full panic mode. “Gia, what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” she said, swept away in his giant hug.
“Why didn’t you come to the house?” He unlocked the door, flipped on the lights, and pulled out his phone. “Rocky’s beside himself. I need to tell him you got here.”
“I already did.”
The office was the same except for a new leather couch and two stately wingback chairs. A bittersweet flash of memory sideswiped her. As a child she remembered curling up in the corner with a book and a blanket, then the harsh slap in the face as a teen when her father let her down.
“How are you feeling, pumpkin?”
“I’m fine. A little tired, but all right.”
“I’m sorry again for your loss. I know I didn’t start out as the biggest supporter of your marriage, but I did know how excited you and Rocky were about the baby. My prayer is that you’ll be able to make it happen in the future.”
She dropped into one of the new squeaky chairs. “I intend to make it happen. One way or another I intend to have as many children as possible with my husband. The man is natural father material.”
He dropped his phone on his desk and slipped into own seat. “What do you want to talk about, Gia? I know there have been too many things left unsaid between us. I hope this visit is the beginning of a new era for us.”
She nodded and almost felt sorry for him. He looked small and vulnerable, not like the ugly tyrant of her past life. Had he changed or had she?
“Your mother is excited about your party here in a couple weeks.”
“We are, too.”