I knew…I just knew…I was falling in love with Ryan Jacobs all over again.
***
The next several days were spent reviewing the academic and course catalogs for Braddock. I was surprised when I realized I’d need to report for new student orientation in July…only two months away.
Time was flying by. Initially, the passage of time had excited me, it meant we were getting closer to the end of Ryan’s deployment. But now it meant something different. It meant I’d be moving soon. Was I ready for that?
Anxiety streamed through my veins like a thick soup as I looked at the dates, the required courses, and the countless other things I’d need to address over the coming weeks.
It was real. This was happening. I was going to art school.
And I was terrified.
~ 21 ~
Anna
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“It’s perfectly normal to feel anxious and apprehensive. This is a big step.” I met Dr. Matson’s eyes across the room. Her encouraging smile was almost enough…almost. She sighed, realizing her reassurances weren’t enough. They’d never be enough. “Anna, you’re making great progress. What’s holding you back?”
The unknown.
Being all alone on the other side of the country.
Missing my family.
“I can see the wheels turning,” she mused, one corner of her mouth tipping up.
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“Anna,” she urged, using that mom-tone she took with me when she knew I was holding something back.
I blew out a breath, pressing myself against the back of the loveseat in an effort to stop my body from trembling. “I’m scared. I’m scared of everything. Moving, starting school, being away from my family…so far away. I’m scared of failing.”
“These are concerns many students have when they go away to school. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it’s a normal reaction. It’ll be tough at first, but you’ll get used to it. You’re in a different place than when you left the first time. You have a support system. You have your parents, your sister, and Ryan. You left your support system behind when you left here years ago. You’re taking them with you this time. It will be a different experience. A good one.”
“Will you set me up with a therapist in San Diego?”
“Of course,” she said, smiling. “If that’s what you want. Or, you and I can still talk on the phone or do video calls. I have some clients I talk to over Skype. We can keep regular appointments that way, until you get acclimated. But you may find that when it’s time to go, you don’t need these appointments anymore.”
“I doubt that,” I mumbled.
“I don’t. I think that come July, you’ll be sick of me, if not long before that.”
I shrugged, not knowing what to say. I didn’t exactly want to tell Dr. Matson that I wanted to shrink her so I could keep her in my pocket forever. Deep down, I knew I was getting better. I knew I was almost entirely back to my old self. I was enjoying life again, something I hadn’t been able to do since the shooting.
I shut my eyes tight. The shooting. Maybe that was my last hurdle.
“I think I need to talk about the shooting.”
“What would you like to say?” Dr. Matson’s face registered no shock or surprise, even though my statement came straight out of left field. In every session, I skirted around the reason I ended up in therapy in the first place. I never wanted to talk about it and always shut her down when she tried.
“I’m never going to forget that day, you know?” She nodded. “But I want to be able to not shut down when it crosses my mind.”
“Does it cross your mind a lot?”
“Not as much as it used to since I’ve been keeping myself busy, but I still think about it sometimes. Especially when I’m going to bed at night. It’s like it waits until there’s nothing else on my mind to swoop in and take over.”
“Any memories in particular?”
“Faces…the fear on people’s faces. The loud bangs of the shots. The…the blood and the screams.” The screams were the new worst. It used to be the faces of those who perished, the ones I’d seen alive before the shots rang out. The barista and the mom…I saw them less and less. I mostly heard the screams.
“What do you usually do to make those things go away?”
I considered her question. What did I do?
“Nothing really…I guess I just fall asleep. I don’t know. I just wish…” I felt so guilty for my wish I couldn’t even voice it.
“Go on.”
“I wish it would go away…I wish it would all go away. I feel guilty for that.”
“Guilty?”
“Yeah. People lost their lives, lost loved ones, lost the use of their legs, and here I am sitting here wishing I could stop seeing their faces and hearing their screams. Isn’t that selfish? Because it feels selfish.”
“It’s not selfish, Anna. It’s not selfish to want control of your mind back. You won’t ever forget those things, but with time, you’ll have the final say as to when you remember them.”
“You’ll help me?” Hope colored my voice for the first time during our hour.
“We’ll work on it,” she said.
It wasn’t a promise, but it would do.
***
After returning home from my appointments with Dr. Matson, I was drained. Mentally and physically sapped. My mind and body felt like they’d just participated in a marathon—no, a decathlon. Muttering an incoherent greeting to my parents and Ronnie, I hustled up the stairs to my bedroom and shut the door.
I needed him.
Sitting at my desk, I tapped the spacebar incessantly to wake up my computer. I’d need to replace it before I left for school. I opened my email, hoping to see the little green icon beside his name indicating he was online.
It wasn’t there.
Of course it wasn’t there. Ryan was in the military. He was somewhere—most likely in the middle of an ocean—and he was working. He wasn’t available twenty-four-seven. We’d been lucky a few times, being online at the same time, but it was never a planned occurrence. It was luck. Pure luck.
I leaned back in my chair and sighed.
Dr. Matson and I had talked a lot about my feelings surrounding the shooting, and I was still too raw. I should have felt lighter, having purged all those thoughts and fears, but I didn’t. I felt heavier…exposed…like I was wearing all those thoughts on the outside of my body.
I wanted to talk to Ryan because I knew he’d make me feel lighter. He’d make me feel like everything would eventually be okay. He’d make me feel optimistic.
Technically, it was his turn to email me, but I composed a new message to him instead.
To: Ryan Jacobs
From: Anna Romano
Subject: Missing you.
Dear Ryan,
I had a rough day today. I talked to Dr. Matson about the shooting. Remembering what I saw, heard, and felt was difficult. All those memories are running rampant in the forefront of my mind, like they’ve finally been freed from the vault I’d kept them in. I want to tuck them away again. I don’t want to remember anymore. I thought it would help me, but I’m not sure it has. Things have been going so well, the outlook of my life has been positive, and now I fear this has set me back. I went into my appointment today feeling afraid…anxious…about my future, about taking all these steps. I thought talking about the shooting would help, like it was the final puzzle piece, you know? The final thing holding me back from moving forward. It didn’t quite work that way, though. I just needed to talk to you. To vent. You always knew the right things to say, even when I didn’t want to hear them. Especially when I didn’t want to hear them.
Love,
Anna
~ 22 ~
Ryan
I slammed my body down on my rack, a little surprised the flimsy bunk didn’t crash to the floor with the force of my weight.
“Lady troubles?” Rogers
mocked from his rack directly above mine.
“Fuck off,” I muttered, knotting my hands behind my head. He had no idea how right he was.
My day was total and utter shit. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It started off alright, but it’s amazing how that shit could change in the blink of an eye.
In the almost three years since I’d known Kelsey, she’d never pissed me off. Not once. She did today.
My daughter’s face filled up the computer screen, lighting up my world. “Hey princess.”
“Hi, daddy,” she grinned with two fingers in her mouth.
“What did you do today?”
She proceeded to tell me about her time at day care in the most animated way. Her pretty blue eyes were bright, and she smiled that toothy grin I loved so much, absorbing me in her story about pink Legos and a princess castle. She was everything that was right in the world…she was my world.
As usual, she got distracted by something and took off for another part of the apartment.
Kelsey’s image took over the screen. “How are things going?”
“Good, almost at the halfway point.”
“That’s great. How’s Anna?”
I loved that Kelsey asked about Anna. It told me that things would be alright one day, when the two different parts of my life merged into one.
“She’s good. She’s applied to Braddock. There’s a chance she might get in this fall, but it’s a small chance.”
Kelsey shifted in her seat and looked away from the screen. A sense of foreboding washed over me. What wasn’t she saying?
“Kels?” I prompted.
She let out a sigh and looked back at the screen, her face showing signs of concern. “I think it’s great that she’s doing well, Ryan. I really do. But aren’t things moving a bit…fast?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, sitting up straighter.
Kelsey shrugged. “She’s still in therapy, right? Is she going to be healed by the time she gets to Braddock?”
“What are you getting at?”
“You know I respect you as a co-parent, Ryan. You’re an amazing father, you provide for Charlotte—for me—more than I’d ever expected and more than I’d ever ask…but you haven’t even told Anna about us yet. Not only that, I’m concerned…” she trailed off.
“Concerned about what?” I asked, skipping over the part about me not telling Anna about her and Charlotte. It wasn’t exactly something I wanted to tell Anna over an email or online chat. I’d decided to talk to her face-to-face.
Kelsey glanced away again, struggling with whatever words were about to come out of her mouth. “I’m concerned about Anna being around Charlotte.”
My jaw dropped. She was worried about Anna with Charlotte? Anna was a marshmallow, there was nothing to be concerned about. “Why? Why are you concerned? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I figured you’d say that. I don’t expect you to understand, Ryan,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to fight with you about this.”
“So don’t.”
“Ryan,” she scolded, using the mom tone I’d often heard her use on Charlotte. “Think about it from my perspective, okay? This girl was your high school sweetheart, then the shooting happened and she became…unbalanced.”
“She was depressed,” I interrupted. “Probably had PTSD. That’s not her fault.”
“Of course it’s not her fault,” Kelsey added in a rush. “I’m not saying it is. It’s just that she disappeared for years, and suddenly she’s back. She’s in therapy, which is great, and you guys are talking again, which is also great.” She stared me right in the eyes, and I saw the ugly truth in them. “But I’m concerned about her being in San Diego so soon. If she’s here, then there’s no doubt she’ll be in your life, which means she’ll be in Charlotte’s life. As a mom, I worry about that. What if she’s still off balance? What if something were to trigger a memory or something and something bad happens when she’s around Charlotte?”
“Jesus, Kelsey. That’s what you’re concerned about? You have nothing to worry about. Anna is harmless.”
“You don’t know that,” she whispered.
“I do know that.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You don’t. You only see pieces of her, Ryan. What she wants you to see. What if she still has down times and just doesn’t share them with you?”
“She wouldn’t do that,” I said, shaking my head. Anna wouldn’t hide that kind of thing from me.
“You’ve spent years apart, Ryan. You don’t know that.”
“And you don’t know her,” I shouted, causing her to flinch. “I’m sorry…”
“Ryan, it’s fine if you want to see Anna when she comes to San Diego. But I’m not ready for her to meet Charlotte.”
“Excuse me?” My brows creased as the shock of her statement rolled through my system. I couldn’t believe she was pulling that crap.
“Until I feel comfortable, I don’t want her to be around Charlotte.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, shocked at her words.
“I’m sorry, Ryan. I don’t ask you for much.”
“She’s my daughter, too.”
“I never said she wasn’t. As a parent, I don’t think it’s smart to bring someone with a recent history of mental illness around my child. I’m honestly surprised you don’t feel the same way.”
I barked out a cold laugh. “That’s because you don’t know her.”
“And you’re blinded by your past with her…your present. You’re not thinking like a father. You’re thinking like a boyfriend.”
My eyes snapped to hers. “I always have Charlotte’s best interests at heart.”
“You haven’t even told Anna about Charlotte! You haven’t told the woman you’re falling in love with that you have a daughter. The woman who has a history of instability. You’re going to rock her world when you tell her all that. Did you think about that, Ryan? Did you think about what your lies are going to do to her mental health?”
My fists clenched under the table. I thought about that every goddamned day. I didn’t need Kelsey to remind me.
“Ryan, I don’t want to fight. That’s not why I brought this up. I just want you to consider another perspective. You can’t tell me that if I met a man, you wouldn’t be giving me the third degree about him, that you wouldn’t be sitting at my kitchen table, cleaning your shotgun when he came to pick me up. We’re friends Ryan, best friends. We look out for each other, and, together, we’re supposed to look out for our girl. I’m just trying to get you to see things from my perspective because I think yours might be a little cloudy these days. That’s all.”
I’d never been so pissed at Kelsey, but more than that, I was pissed at myself because it was her right to be concerned. And she was damn right that I’d have any guy she ever dated vetted until there was nothing I didn’t know about him, right down to his shoe size and where his grandparents went to elementary school.
I was confident Anna wouldn’t be a danger to Charlotte, but I was a danger to Anna. All because I was too afraid to tell her about Charlotte in the first place. Kelsey was right, yet again. How much harm would it do to Anna when I finally told her about my daughter?
To make matters worse, when I abruptly ended the video call with Kelsey, there was an email waiting for me from Anna and she sounded…not right. She’d had a rough day and she needed me and I wasn’t there. I looked for her chat icon, but she wasn’t online.
I’d succeeded in failing two of the most important people in my life in one night.
The day couldn’t end any fucking sooner.
~ 23 ~
Anna
As weeks passed, I felt better. The heaviness of the session with Dr. Matson lifted, and I started seeing the world in color again. We still touched on the shooting here and there, and it was easier. The pain and fear were still there, but they weren’t nearly as crippling.
I received a frantic email from Ryan in respons
e to the message I’d sent him after that session. I felt terrible for making him worry. I’d just felt stripped bare, and I didn’t even think about how my words would affect him. I assured him I was okay, and after a fun and flirty video chat the following night, he believed me.
Dr. Matson told me I’d still have good days and bad days. That it was normal. Everyone had bad days, and my bad days didn’t mean the sky was falling. She called it catastrophic thinking, and we spent three whole sessions talking about negative cognitions.
In one month, I’d be leaving for San Diego, the sixth of July. I wouldn’t move into the dorms until August, but there were orientation activities in July, and I wanted to spend some time getting familiar with the campus and its surrounding area. My mother had a cousin who lived in Carlsbad, and I would be staying with her and her family until I could move into the dorm.
Relief flooded through me when I learned I’d have family close by. I only met Mom’s cousin Mary a few times as a child, and I didn’t remember her at all, but she was family and that was enough for me. I’d have her, her husband, their two kids, and, eventually, I’d have Ryan. I no longer feared being all alone on the other side of the country. I had people. A support system.
One rainy afternoon, Mom took me and Ronnie to Target to stock up on dorm essentials. I insisted on choosing a color scheme—dark blue, like Ryan’s eyes—and my bedding, but I let them have their fun with everything I just had to have—their words, not mine. I had to admit, it was kind of nice to be spoiled, and I was having a fun girls’ day out.
“Your dorm room better be on the ground floor,” Ronnie said. She scrutinized two nearly identical throw pillows, first bringing one up to her face, then the next, alternating rubbing her cheeks against them like a cat. A strange one, my sister.
“I made the request, but I’m just a freshman, Ron. I don’t have much pull.”
“You have a handicapped sister, they should grant you a first floor room. How else am I going to see your room when I visit?”
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