by A. J. Downey
What’s that saying? The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. We were looking at a prime example of that now. I held her, and she cried, and I felt guilty as fuck that she’d been stewing in anxiety all day because I couldn’t do better than a fucking text. I knew Faith had been resistant to the idea of taking medication after all the shit they’d pumped into her, but something had to give. She needed to talk to her doctor and we needed to put it in her hands on if she needed to take something or not, but she at least needed to do something about the anxiety and panic attacks. She couldn’t live like this much longer; it was a serious road block to her recovery. I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation but it was one that needed to be had.
We ended up laying down, and she cried herself to sleep. It broke my fucking heart, and tugged at every one of my heartstrings in all the worst ways. I couldn’t sleep, so at some point I disengaged myself enough to sit up with my back to the headboard while she slept, standing guard, keeping watch, or whatever.
I put my headphones into my phone and hit up YouTube, watching videos on how to do a pedicure until I was pretty sure I had everything I would need memorized and could do one in my sleep. Faith had a therapy appointment set for the next day. That was nonnegotiable, the one thing I needed to take her to until the guys got back with Hope. There was no tellin’ how long that was going to take, but me and Faith were good to be like this, here at Bobby’s, until we had Ft. Royal fully stocked with the rest of the Kraken to protect what was ours.
I’d fixed the A/C when I’d gotten back, which hadn’t taken very long, but Bobby seriously needed to invest in a new one, this one wasn’t going to hold out forever. It was keeping the heat and humidity down to a tolerable level, but it didn’t stop Faith from shifting restlessly in her sleep. I would touch her, a little touch, like smoothing her hair back from her face, or a light caress down her arm, and she would sigh out and settle again. I liked that I could do that for her. That she somehow slept better when I was around, even when I didn’t touch her, like she knew I was there.
Eventually I was tired enough to lay down with her, so I cuddled up to her back, an arm hooked over her waist and closed my eyes, breathing her in. I was going to have to wake her up eventually, so that we could grab some dinner downstairs. I was pretty sure she’d eaten something that day, even though she forgot to more often than not, Bobby would have seen to it. It was our way.
Imagine my surprise when it was the man himself shaking both me and my girl awake. He chuckled and gave us a wink, “Must be nice, sleepin’ the day away.”
“Yeah, fuck you man, I work for a livin’ just the same as you.”
“I don’t,” Faith murmured unhappily.
“Not yet, but then again, you’re my girl and I’m supposed to take care of you.”
She looked me over and licked her lips, but remained silent, the wheels in her head turning.
“C’mon downstairs and get something to eat.”
“Find the fish?” I asked.
“Right in the icebox, fresh catch?”
“Yeah, Johnny caught it this morning.”
“Sweet.”
Faith remained silent, and let me lead her downstairs, right behind Bobby. We went out back, where he had the grill and a picnic table with chairs around it. Faith asked what she could do to help and Bobby asked her to set places. Satisfied that she could pitch in, she moved wraith like between the kitchen and the outdoors, setting a nice spread. She made a salad without being asked and looked like she was going to have a heart attack until Bobby thanked her, assuring her he wasn’t pissed about it. Jesus, a little over a fuckin’ day in that shithole and it was like she was right back to square one.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked me softly, as she stood to clear plates. I helped her out and Bobby watched us, leaned way back in his seat, beer perched on top of his thigh. He took a pull off it and raised his eyebrows at me.
“Taking you to Dr. Sheindland in the morning for an appointment,” I stopped her, and put the plates in her hands back down atop the table, drawing her in close to me. I was cheating here, and I knew it, asking her in front of Bobby, but Faith was ever polite, and wouldn’t disagree or make a fuss in front of another person. “Think you can do me a favor?”
She looked up at me quizzically, and raised her eyebrows. I smiled, and took it for what it was, an invitation to get on with it.
“Let her prescribe you something,” I pulled her hand from my waist and raised it to my mouth, kissing her palm, “You don’t have to take it, unless you really need it, but let it at least be an option. No one’s gonna force you to take something you don’t want to.”
She looked away from me and away from Bobby, aquamarine eyes distant as she stared sightless in the direction of the groves. She didn’t look at all happy, so it surprised me when she reluctantly nodded.
“I don’t think I can do it on my own anymore without help, I just don’t want to be addicted to anything ever again,” she sniffed and I nodded, pulling her in and holding her close.
Bobby got up, and went inside silently, after we traded looks over the top of Faith’s head. He took the plates along with him, and a second later you could hear the water running in the kitchen. I sighed out and held Faith tight who was going through this internal struggle the likes neither Bobby, nor I, could even begin to fathom. This trip back to NOLA had scrambled her system hard, set her back something fierce, and I don’t think she could even put a finger on exactly why that was.
We ended the evening on the porch, Bobby and me with beers in hand, Faith with a tall glass of sweet iced tea. I brought my guitar out and wondered idly where she’d put her iPod. I hadn’t seen it for a couple of days. I played idly for a while, nothing in particular, keeping to music on the soothing end of the spectrum while we relaxed and watched the stars come out. Faith and I traded a knowing look, and with a smile, I obliged her and played Hope Never Dies for her again. She closed her eyes, and some of the tension and stress eased out of her.
Tomorrow I would take her up to her Doctor, and see if the grand old dame would call in a script for her so I could pick it up while she was in her session. I’d go pick that up, and the other supplies I would need to see if I could make life a little better for my girl for a minute. It’d been way easier than I expected to get Faith to agree to take something, which meant that she was in rough shape on the inside. I had to hand it to her; she was pretty much the mistress of hiding it. Of course, she’d had to be and she’d had long practice.
Some wise old Chinese fucker had once said, ‘The journey of a thousand miles begins with but a single step.’ He wasn’t wrong, it was just, with times like these, and all the seeming stumbling blocks in place, these first steps were all up hill. Here was to hoping the universe would see fit to mellow the fuck out where Faith was concerned and let her remember what it was to breathe again. Fuck knows, I would do whatever I could to see that happen.
Chapter 36
Faith
My session with Dr. Sheindland had gone well that morning, and when I’d come out, Marlin had been waiting for me, and had pretty much whisked me right back to Bobby’s orange grove. It was hot, so I’d changed back into my dress and at Marlin’s urging had brought out my iPod to listen to while I took a walk.
He had opted to stay behind and help Bobby with a more permanent fix to the air conditioning unit attached to the house. I listened to Ashes & Embers and strolled for hours. I had taken one of the antidepressants and one of the antianxiety pills that Dr. Sheindland had prescribed for me when we’d gotten back to the house. She was right, I didn’t have to take them forever, and there really was nothing worse than heroin when it came to kicking a drug habit and I had already done that well enough. I’d already been through the worst anyone could go through, and I felt stronger, validated somehow when she’d said that if I could survive what I had already been through, then I could, quite literally, survive anything.
I felt a little less
awkward, more put together, and it helped that I heard from my sister. Marlin had insisted I carry my cell phone with me when I walked, as much for safety as to get used to owning one, and when it rang, I had answered it to a collect call from the Jefferson Parrish Jail.
“Hope?”
“Hey Bubbles, sorry it took me so long to call.”
“Never mind that, are you okay?”
“Yeah, the food sucks, these bitches…” my sister paused, “Both in uniform and jumpsuits ain’t got nothin’ on me and my court date is in a week and a half. The lawyer the boys sprang for is worth the money, believe me. I would have had to wait here a couple of months otherwise. How are you doing?”
We talked, I told her I saw the doctor that morning and that I was taking some medicine and she, surprisingly, made approving noises over that. She told me to call Charity in the next couple of days, and said that our youngest sister had opted to stay behind at school to get a jump on her studies through spring break, to get herself graduated that much sooner so she could come down here to be with us.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked.
“By the time she gets down there, I’ll be back and so will the rest of the guys. There won’t be anything to worry about, Bubs, trust me. Char is in a work study program, if we had her come down now, it’d screw that up, but sis, you need to call her more. It’s freaking her out and tearing her up that you don’t talk to her when you guys used to be so close.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Hey, no, this isn’t me tellin’ you off or getting mad, Faith, believe me, I really do get it.”
We lapsed into silence and I nodded, realized my sister couldn’t see it, heaved a sigh, and told her, “I’ll try to call her soon.”
“That’s my girl, listen, I have to go, but if you need anything or want me to call, just call Cutter and he’ll tell me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I love you, Bubbles.”
“Back at you, Buttercup.”
“Talk to you soon, Sis.”
“Okay.”
We ended the call, and I felt marginally better. Hope had sounded unfazed by the happenings, and that made me feel, well, hope that things would actually be okay. My sister didn’t know it, but I had so much of my namesake in her. She could do anything, just look at me. I’d believed she would find me, and she did. I may have lost my faith that she would in some of my darker days, but Hope came through. This was no different; she would come through and come home.
I stopped and looked up into the bright blue skies that matched Marlin’s eyes to near perfection and had to smile. This was home. I hadn’t felt a sense of home in a very long time. It was nice to have that again. I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was nice to be able to breathe again. I had a long ways to go to be completely free, but for one of the first times I felt like I was on the right path, and not only that, I felt like I could make it and the feeling wasn’t fleeting.
I decided to wander back to the house. Marlin and Bobby should be done with the air conditioner by now, and I was fairly certain that they could both do with something to eat. I know I could.
As I entered the front yard, my suspicions about Marlin being through with the work were correct. He stood barefoot on the porch, hair dripping onto his bare shoulders from a fresh shower. He wore only a pair of faded, work worn jeans and I felt a throb of desire, a deep ache of appreciation that stopped me in my tracks so that I could simply drink the sight of him in. He pulled a hair elastic off his wrist and pulled his hair into a short man bun, catching the ends of his hair in the elastic to create a loop. It wasn’t something I’d ever seen him do, and I had to admit, the look suited him.
He caught sight of me standing at the edge of the grove and his smile lit him up from the inside out. It was so startling, I had to turn and look just to be sure it was me that elicited the reaction, but of course I was out here alone, and it was only me he was looking at. It made me blush, and butterflies took off in my stomach, rising in a cloud and tickling the inside of my ribs, causing my heart to stutter in a giggle. Joy flooded my veins, more addictive, and better than any synthetic drug and my feet carried me forward even as my mind mourned not being able to capture this moment for a little longer.
I gathered the long skirt of my maxi dress in my free hand, my other occupied with my phone and little iPod. Marlin reached out and popped the earbud out of my one ear, and took the items from my hand, twisting to set them in reach on one of the porch railings.
“Hey, Baby Girl. Have a good walk?”
“I think so,” I said smiling, and it felt natural, the smile.
“Good, c’mere, there’s something I want to do for you.” He took my hands in his and led me over to a rocking chair he’d brought out from inside the house. “Sit for me,” he murmured and trusting him, I did. He knelt and slipped off my sandals one at a time and I looked at him quizzically.
“Don’t go anywhere for me, I’ll be right back.” Marlin straightened and disappeared back into the house, the screen door banging in its frame. I looked out over the peaceful and idyllic scene of the trees rustling lightly in the breeze and I relaxed, leaning back in the chair. The screen door opening up brought my attention back around, Marlin stepping out of the portal with an honest to god foot bath between his large hands.
“What are you doing?” I asked, laughing.
“You trust me?”
“You know I do.”
“Then you’ll see.”
He set it at my feet and ran the cord to an outdoor socket, flipping back its cover to plug it in. He returned and lifted my skirt, tucking it between my knees to preserve my modesty before lifting first one foot then the other into the bath. I watched him curiously, this big, strong, man on his knees at my feet. The water was warm and when he switched on the bath, the smell of lavender and eucalyptus wafted up to me.
“Where did you even get this thing?”
“Drugstore while you were in with your doctor, now sit back, relax and let me take care of you.”
“Why?”
He flashed me a roguish smile, “Because I love you, and it makes me happy.”
His frankness stole my breath away, and his words made it slow to return. I watched in rapt fascination as he went back into the house, returning with a couple of bags of items, taking his time to rifle through them. He brought out nail polish remover and cotton balls first, and laid a towel over the top of one of his thighs; he brought out one of my feet and took care to strip the chipped and flaking polish off of each toe.
I blinked, and couldn’t believe it. This powerful man’s man, fisherman, biker, fighter… was giving me a pedicure. His hands were rough against my skin, but so gentle with how he handled me. At one point I heard laughter, and turned to see some of Bobby’s workers standing by and watching. A couple of them called out to Marlin, mocking, but he ignored them, holding me fast when I tried to pull away. He captured my gaze with his and something passed between us. He didn’t care, not one bit, about them or anyone else who had an opinion. I found myself becoming strangely emotional. Something I couldn’t quite define, something that had no name but didn’t feel bad; quite the opposite actually.
I was suffused with a warm, tingling, golden glow. I felt loved, cared for and cherished. He was amazing in so many ways and I found my hands shaking lightly with how fiercely I wanted to pull his mouth to mine and show him just how much this grand gesture meant to me.
He took his time and extraordinary care, clipping, filing, and buffing the nails. He did everything exactly right and I found myself blurting through one of the tenderest massages I’d ever received, “Where did you learn how to do this?”
“Looked it up on YouTube yesterday while you were napping.”
“YouTube?” I asked incredulously.
“That’s right,” he wasn’t looking at me, he was paying close attention to what he was doing, rubbing small circles with his thumbs, pressing with just the right
amount, into my shin to either side of the bone, fingers gliding effortlessly in the lotion and oil he applied to my skin.
I found myself going limp, submitting to the sublime relaxing sensations he wrought with his fingers along first one leg, then the other; paying special attention to either foot. I was a melting puddle of bliss in the old wooden rocking chair by the time he was using a bit of alcohol on a cotton ball to cleanse the nails of any residual oil or lotion. Apparently this was full service and he really didn’t care what anyone thought. Several workers had taken up working in the nearby trees, and quite a few of them were staring unabashedly.
“Marlin…”
“Fuck them, they want to say anything I’ll gladly realign their jaws for ‘em. This is about me and you, nobody else’s business but ours, Baby Girl.” He punctuated his statement with a crisp look in my direction and by cracking open a bottle of clear basecoat, studiously and carefully starting in on painting the nail on one of my big toes while my heart swelled with love for him, and with gratitude.
I was struck by a thought that I chose to keep private for the moment, but that I promised myself I would share with him when the time was right. I thought to myself: Everything, all of the pain, the misery, and sorrow of New Orleans, was worth it because in the end I’m able to sit here with a man like him. I traced the metal filigree behind the key plate in the wristband and thought to myself further, If only the boy knew how right he was.
I watched, grossly fascinated, as Marlin painted my nails a beautiful metallic color that shifted between a blue and sea green, two or three shades darker than the actual waters around here, but no less beautiful. He blew gently on my toes and it made me giggle, but as with everything he did, the paint job was perfect. He did everything with equal care and precision I noticed. From fishing on his boat, to repairing an air conditioning unit, to painting his woman’s toenails. I admired him beyond words for that.