by Amanda Dick
“I have these dreams,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper in the quiet car. “About running – jogging, really. Y’know, like I used to.” She snuck a furtive glance at him before inspecting her house through the windshield in the dark. “In my dreams, I’m always either walking or running. I’ve never dreamt that I’m paralysed, ever – not once. I never see my wheelchair in my dreams, or my braces. Sometimes, when I’m running, there’s this little alarm bell inside my head that tries to tell me something’s wrong, but I just ignore it. It bothers me sometimes. I wonder if that means I’m still in some kind of denial about what happened.”
Jack watched the emotions play over her face. “Maybe you don’t see yourself that way because that’s not who you are, it’s just something that happened to you,” he said gently.
She seemed to digest this information, casting a brief glance at him, complete with tight smile. Then she retreated back into herself, turning her attention to what lay beyond the windshield.
“Jogging’s not the only thing I miss,” she said, almost to herself. “Dancing. Walking on cool grass on a hot day. Flowing dresses. Pretty shoes. Silly things, really. None of the things I thought I’d miss.”
Jack reached for her hand, holding on tight. He tried to conjure up some sage words of comfort, but they refused to come. Eventually, she turned to him and smiled through the tears that had gathered in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to blurt out all this stuff.”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“You should feel honoured. I don’t babble my secrets to just anyone.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured, reaching up to brush a stray tear from her cheek. “I’ll keep your secrets safe.”
A breathless mixture of fear and longing danced within her eyes.
“Do you want to come inside?” she asked tentatively. “Maybe we can order pizza or something?”
He smiled. “I’d really like that.”
CHAPTER 12
“If you get a chance, take it.
If it changes your life, let it.”
- Harvey MacKay
Jack took another enthusiastic bite of pizza and Ally smiled to herself. The warm glow she was experiencing was a seamless blend of alcohol and sheer happiness. Just being with Jack seemed so surreal, but throw alcohol into the mix and suddenly ‘surreal’ took on a whole new twist. She appreciated that the beer took the edge off the awkwardness she had worried would plague them. They had come up against plenty of that tonight, but in spite of all of it, she was relaxed and enjoying his company.
She took a bite of pizza, feeling slightly squeamish as she recalled babbling in the car earlier. She had said things that she never would have said had she been stone cold sober, but somehow it was okay. He hadn’t backed away in fear or run in the opposite direction. She had found herself talking to him easily sometimes – a little too easily, not that he seemed concerned about that. In fact, she thought as she watched him help himself to another slice of pizza, he seemed pretty relaxed.
The music coming from her iPod dock seemed to fill up the silence between them, Adam Duritz’s sultry voice swirling around them as he sang about the price of a memory being the sorrow it brings. Very fitting, she thought, taking another sip of her beer, eyeing him over the top of the bottle.
“You know, every time I hear this song I think of that night.”
It took him a moment, but he smiled over at her, the fog lifting. “I remember. Best road tripping song, ever.”
“And best get-you-in-the-mood-for-a-night-on-the-town song ever. And best Sunday-morning-lazy-breakfast song ever,” she said. “It’s also a pretty good hiding-from-the-world song, too.”
His smile faded, but he nodded in agreement. She shook her head, amazed at the lack of control she had over her mouth tonight. Maybe she was more smashed than she thought.
She attended to the last of her pizza, washing it down with more beer, just as a new song filled the room. This one had altogether too many memories attached to it and she began to wonder if she should switch off the iPod and risk the awkward silence. As she mulled over her options, Eddie Vedder growled sensuously about five horizons revolving around her soul.
“I should’ve known this song would be on there somewhere,” he said.
She smiled, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Vedder’s voice surrounded her with memories. Jack picked up his beer and took a sip, placing it back on the table. Then he stood up and walked around to stand in front of her, holding his hand out.
“C’mon,” he prompted gently. “Dance with me.”
She stared up at him, the last vestiges of a smile disappearing from her face. “What?”
“You heard me. Dance with me – right here, right now.”
She waited for some sign that he was just kidding around, but she didn’t find any. She waved his hand away. “What are you talking about?”
“We can do this, I’ve been thinking about it since Barney’s. Let me show you?”
She shook her head, about to tell him that he was crazy, her heart threatening to jump into her throat.
“Come on,” he pleaded, taking her hand in his. “Trust me. Please?”
He seemed to be so sure of himself, so eager to please, that she found herself doing just that. His gaze enveloped her, drawing her in and wrapping her in a thick, warm cloak of reassurance until she was nodding up at him.
“You just need to stand up,” he said, releasing her hand. “I’ll do the rest.”
A lump the size of Texas seemed to be stuck in her throat, but somehow she managed to get her trembling hands to co-operate. She rearranged her legs so they were straight out in front of her, fumbling with the lock on each brace. Taking more care than usual, trying to slow down this moment that seemed to be spiraling out of control, she used the table and the back of her chair to hoist herself upright. Standing there, leaning on them for support, she had never been more frightened.
Jack stepped in closer to her, taking her by the waist. He began talking to her, angling her towards him.
“Put your arms around my neck – it’s okay, I’ve got you.”
She did as she was told, holding on tight as her weight shifted towards him and he stepped in even closer. His cologne wafted over her and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about falling.
“Can you loosen that grip a little? I’m not going to be able to do this if I can’t breathe,” he joked, his voice in her ear giving her goosebumps. “I’m not going to let you fall, I promise. I just need a little wiggle room.”
“Wiggle room?” her eyes flew open.
“Just trust me.”
She relaxed her grip as he jostled her a little. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just going to lift you up a bit.”
His arms wrapped even tighter around her waist. “Why?” she demanded, breathless with the combination of being this close to Jack and of what he was suggesting. She tried to resist the urge to hold on to him even tighter still.
“Did you ever dance with your Dad like this when you were a kid, standing on his feet?” he asked, as she felt him lift her.
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“Yeah,” he huffed, her weight shifting again. “There, that’s it.”
“That’s what?” she demanded, afraid to move.
“Just relax.”
“I’m relaxed, what makes you think I’m not relaxed?”
He chuckled and the sound filled her with joy, despite her precarious position. Suddenly, she realised she couldn’t feel his hands anymore.
“Jack, where are your hands?”
“I’m holding your… jeans.”
Realisation dawned. “You’re holding my ass, aren’t you.”
He chuckled again. “Yeah.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“You better watch it, mister. No funny business.”
They began to sway from side to side. Now that the blood had stopped rushing to her head, she could hear the music again. She tried to concentrate on that, rather than the fact that she was in such close proximity to Jack and she was actually dancing.
“Is this alright? You’re not saying much.”
She nodded into his neck but couldn’t bring herself to speak. He rubbed her back gently with one hand, sending shivers through her. Slowly, she gave herself over to the movement, relishing the way her body moved with his.
As the song ended and another began, the tears came, silently sliding down her cheeks and burying themselves in his shirt. She felt like she was floating and Jack was her anchor, solid and safe and here. She wished the moment would last forever.
He was holding her in his arms again, where she felt so warm and safe and comfortable that it scared her. With an aching heart, she pushed aside the reflection with a sigh that emerged as more of a choking sound.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked gently and they stopped moving, his hand motionless on her back.
She nodded into his neck, afraid to speak in case her voice betrayed her.
“The last time we did this was at the Pearl Jam concert,” he said, as the swaying began again, slow and rhythmic.
He pulled her closer, his hand strong and firm against her back. She felt like it was burning a hole through her shirt.
“We were queuing to get into the venue and the support band came on. We danced while we were waiting, in front of everyone.” She heard the smile in his voice. “It was your idea, as I remember it – you didn’t exactly give me much of a choice.”
The usual black void engulfed her as she thought about the night of the accident. He might as well have been talking about someone else. She was almost jealous of her other self from that night, dancing with Jack, having a great time.
The music faded as the song came to an end and they stopped moving. She stood with her arms around his neck, the rhythmic beating of his heart against her chest almost mesmerising.
“Are you ready for a break?” he asked, gently brushing her hair away from her shoulder.
“Just one more?” she whispered, not ready to let go of the moment just yet.
“You’re the boss.”
They began to sway in time to the music again and she closed her eyes. She let the music in – properly, this time – and it took her back to places she hadn’t been in a long time. Memories flooded through her. Jack’s shirt felt damp beneath her cheek and she sniffed, opening her eyes and blinking in the dull light of her living room.
“Hey, hey – what’s all this?” Jack soothed, smoothing her hair away from her face as she pulled away from him.
“I think I need to sit down,” she whispered, light-headed suddenly.
“Okay, sure, just a second here.” He manoeuvred them both towards the couch and turned around so her back was facing it. “I’m just going to lower you down here, just hold on to my – yeah, that’s it. Okay, there you go, no problem,” he said gently, easing her onto the couch.
She sniffed again, wiping her eyes with trembling fingers.
“You okay?” he asked nervously, sitting on the edge of the couch beside her. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” she mumbled vaguely. “I just felt a little dizzy, but I’m fine now.”
“You look kinda pale. I’ll get you some water.”
She didn’t bother arguing and watched as he disappeared into the kitchen. Unlocking her braces with trembling fingers, she eased herself back into the couch as he came back to sit beside her again, glass of water in hand.
“Here. Maybe you should drink this,” he suggested, and she took the proffered glass, taking a small sip. “Better?”
“Thanks. I just… I think it was just the… everything.”
She rested the glass on her thigh, watching it closely, as if it might provide all the answers to the questions in her head.
“Ah yes, the everything. That’d certainly do it,” he said, and she glanced up to find him smiling at her.
She felt the tears coming again as she looked at him, staring back at her with a tender, slightly bemused, expression. She blamed the alcohol for affecting her this way, but she knew that it wasn’t solely to blame. She fought through the haze of emotions and chemicals, frantically trying to rebuild the carefully-constructed wall that held her fragile soul safe, trying desperately to keep him out. She felt the wall crumbling but she was determined not to give up the cause yet, so used to protecting everyone from the mess inside her head that it was second nature now. So why was she telling Jack things she had never told anyone else?
“You scare me,” she whispered, alcohol connecting the direct line between her brain and her mouth. She took a quick sip of water and her hand shook so much, she almost dropped the glass. “This – us – tonight… all of it. Dancing, talking – secrets – so many things. And feelings – the way you make me feel… it’s all so… it’s like you never left, only you did leave, and it’s all so different now.”
Jack’s face, so worried just moments ago, relaxed. “It’s kind of overwhelming, is that what you mean?”
“Yes!” she nodded vehemently. “That’s what I mean! Isn’t that what I said?”
He smiled, reaching for the glass of water and setting it down on the side table. “Kind of, yeah.”
She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I’m drunk, you’ve gotten me drunk. I hope you’re happy.”
He laughed softly and rubbed her back. “Yes, you are. But it’s okay, you’re safe.”
Her hands fell into her lap and she looked over at him, intent on saying something important. But whatever it was mysteriously disappeared and she just stared at him. He smiled at her, so tenderly she forgot where she was. She wanted to surrender to him, right here, right now.
She leaned unconsciously towards him and his smile faded. His eyes lingered on her lips for a nano-second, sending a shiver of anticipation through her. She waited impatiently as he searched the depths of her soul until his lips were on hers, warm and soft and tasting vaguely of beer. She closed her eyes as his fingertips caressed her cheek, the nerve-endings coming alive with his touch.
Just as she felt herself giving in to him completely, he pulled away. She stared at him breathlessly for several moments, her mind struggling to ascertain fact from fiction.
“Am I dreaming?” she whispered, her head spinning.
Jack’s thumb caressed her jaw. “Nope. Not dreaming.”
She blinked, afraid he would disappear. His hand slipped from her cheek and he looked nervous, leaning away from her as if putting some distance between them would help.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to do that… I shouldn’t have done that.”
Her heart raced. “It’s okay. I wanted you to.”
He glanced at her anxiously. “I think that maybe… ”
She smiled, her inhibitions leaving in an all-out stampede.
Whatever he was about to say vanished into the ether and he smiled back at her, amused. “I think that maybe we need some coffee. You definitely do.”
She shrugged, still tasting his lips on hers and feeling like her grip on reality was slipping a little. For a change though, it didn’t worry her. In fact, she liked it.
“Okay,” she smiled, as he got up and headed for the kitchen.
Jack waited impatiently for the coffee to brew. He glanced through the kitchen door at Ally, who was still sitting on the couch, getting comfortable.
Why did I do that, why did I kiss her? What was I thinking?
He had taken advantage of her, which only served to make him feel like more of a fraud. He had to tell her. Only now, there was so much more at stake, which made
everything that much worse.
God, how he wished his father were here. He would know what to do.
The coffee finished brewing and as he poured, his phone began vibrating. He frowned, digging it out of his pocket and staring at the screen for a second before declining the call.
“New phone – first thing tomorrow,” he muttered to himself, shoving it back into his pocket.
He picked up both cups of coffee and made his way back to the living room. “Here we go. Nice and strong, just what – “
She was asleep. She had slumped back into the couch, her head resting against the over-stuffed cushion behind her, breathing heavily.
He sighed. “Great timing.”
He put the coffee cups back on the kitchen counter. Walking over to sit down on the couch beside her, he picked up her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Ally? Hey – time to wake up.”
She didn’t even stir. He looked down at her hand in his. It was smaller and paler, but stronger, too. He turned her hand over and ran his fingers gently over the calluses at the base of her fingers. Infinitely stronger.
Glancing towards her bedroom, he debated his next move. He couldn’t just leave her on the couch and go home. He stood up, gathering her into his arms.
“Come on,” he murmured. “Time to sleep it off somewhere a little more comfortable.”
As he stood with her in his arms, he could feel her braces digging into him. There had been times tonight when it had felt like nothing had changed between them. Then there had been the times when he was acutely aware that things were so different now.
Dancing with her had been one of them. The way she held onto him, the weight of her body against his, the knowledge that she was completely dependent upon him to keep her safe. The realisation was a sobering one. His reasons for wanting to dance with her were selfless, spurred on by the longing he had seen at Barneys. But when they were actually dancing, he had realised the magnitude of what he had done. It had reduced her to tears. He almost felt guilty that he had enjoyed having her so close to him.
And now, as he held her in his arms again, it was very different. Her small frame had been divided into two distinct parts; the strong shoulders he cradled in one arm, and the slight legs draped over the other. It wasn’t only her body that had changed, though. The inner strength she exuded seemed completely at odds with her delicate frame.