Think Twice

by Stephanie Rose

  “It’s not that.” Not only that. I brought a forkful of cake to my mouth and held back a moan. I wanted this cake for every birthday, too. Warmth spread into my chest at Danielle baking me a cake to make me feel better. “I finally found out my sister’s secret.”

  She nodded and rested her elbows on the table. “I spotted you guys outside the other day, and things looked a little tense. I didn’t want to ask you unless you brought it up. You don’t have to tell me what it is.”

  I laid the fork down and massaged my temple. “I’ll tell you. Be nice to tell someone,” I muttered. “Dylan is my sister’s secret. They’ve been … seeing each other all summer.” I lifted my head to Danielle’s widened gaze.

  “He’s your age, and your sister is—”

  “A teenager. A legal one, but still. My dad is going to go through the roof. They still don’t know, and she begged me not to say anything. I’m kind of glad I’m here and not there. I sure as hell don’t want to be around that day.”

  “Your dad was always a nice guy, from what I remember. I never thought of him as rigid like that. He’d really be that upset?”

  I snickered and gave her a slow nod. “Oh yeah. It’s not that he’s not a great guy. He’s very protective when it comes to my sister. And Dylan … well, I didn’t see that coming, and Dad won’t either. Dylan’s been my best friend since we were in first grade, and they think of him and his mother as extended family. PJ had a crush on him, but I never thought it was … mutual.” I grimaced, hoping for the day I could think of them together and not want to lose my fucking lunch.

  “Sounds like your dad isn’t the only one who’s overprotective.” She smirked around her fork.

  “Maybe. But I also know Dylan is a good guy, although I’m not exactly thrilled with him right now. He knew exactly how we’d all react, and for him to take that chance, it has to be serious.”

  “And you said PJ is pretty headstrong, right? So, she can take care of herself?” Danielle’s tongue darting out to lick a smear of frosting off of her bottom lip made me forget my troubles for a second.

  “That she is, but I hate lying to them when they’re already worried.”

  “It’s nice that you’re so close to your stepdad. I like mine well enough, but I never had the inclination to call him Dad.”

  “I don’t think of him as my stepdad. My biological father died when I was a baby. All I know are pictures and stories, although my family says I’m a lot like him. He was a bit of a smart-ass, I hear.”

  She let out a laugh and nodded. “I’d say that’s pretty accurate.”

  I nudged her under the table with my good knee before I continued.

  “Dylan and I joined scouts when we were six, and Nick, my dad, was the scout leader. And he was just so …” I trailed off. “So awesome. He knew everything, and when he was around, life was ten times better. My mom did a great job on her own, don’t get me wrong. But he made us feel more like a family. I can’t explain it.” I peered over at Danielle and shrugged. “He’d take us to his firehouse and bring us on the truck. I’d be in awe, asking a thousand questions that he always took the time to answer.”

  “You’re doing fine explaining it. Is that when you decided to be a firefighter?”

  I shook my head. “Not right then. When I was in high school, he was promoted to chief. We all went to a dinner the fire department had in his honor and I …” I swallowed the lump swelling in my throat before I continued. “I never realized how much of a hero he really was. I had a feeling, but hearing about all the people he helped over the years, how many lives he’d saved. The world is a better place because Nick Garcia is in it. I wanted to carry it on, I suppose.” I caught Danielle’s glossy gaze as she hung on my every word. “I started training like a maniac, and once I was done with the college credits I needed, I joined the Fire Academy.” My eyes dropped to my leg. It at least felt like it was attached to my body again, but I had a hard time believing I could ever get back to the way I was.

  Danielle let out a long sigh before she tapped my shoulder. “I’m not saying that you won’t get back on the truck again. You’re progressing great, but I can’t predict the future. But there are a lot of ways to make the world a better place without pulling on the turnout gear and running into a burning building. You have so much more to offer, more than you realize.” My eyes jumped to hers at the tiny crack in her voice. “That’s where I come in, to help you get as strong as you can for whatever is in store after you walk out. And you will walk out unassisted and strong. Of that, I’ll make sure.”

  I burst out laughing. “You’re cute when you go all stern therapist.”

  She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “That’s why I’m here.”

  I crossed my arms and drew back in the chair. “So what made you become a therapist?”

  Her lips flattened as she took a deep breath. “When I was 17, just after we moved, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. The chemo took a big toll on her and she needed physical therapy. I’d watch her work with the therapist every day, and the more she learned how to move again, the more she’d start to light back up. The therapist was returning her life to her by taking away her helplessness. I wanted to do that.”

  “You do.” I slid my hand against hers and laced our fingers together. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. “I haven’t just been Jack in a very long time. At least, it feels that way. With you, you don’t sugarcoat anything, but you give me hope, hope I honestly didn’t have when I walked in, no matter how many stories I heard about how good this place is.” I let out a nervous laugh, overcome with a flood of emotion I didn’t know how to process. “You brought me back to life, and for that I’ll always be thankful.”

  “You’re welcome,” she whispered as she tried to pull her hand away. I tightened my grip until she looked at me.

  “You’re more than only a therapist to me. You know that, right?”

  She nodded, but wouldn’t meet my eyes. Her eyes clenched shut before squeezing my hand back. Was that a confirmation that I was more than just a patient to her? Maybe only one of us had verbalized our feelings, but they were too strong to ignore. We pretended to run into each other outside of therapy when we were really seeking each other out. She fought to keep the tough-as-nails therapist mask with everyone she interacted with, but she let it fall for me, even if only for a few moments.

  “I’d better go. It’s late. I’m glad you liked the cake.” She forced a smile as she stuffed the containers back into the bag.

  “I loved the cake. Give me your cell.” I held out my phone.

  She froze before craning her head to me. “Why?”

  “Because it’s late, and I want to make sure you get home okay. I’ll text you, and you can text me back. I promise I won’t harass you.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  “But I do. I care about you, Danielle. Give me some peace of mind.”

  I wiggled my phone in front of her before she grabbed it, punching in her number before handing it back to me.

  “Happy?” Her eyes darted away from mine before rising from her chair.

  “Very.” I stood with my crutch and grasped her hand, letting my thumb drift back and forth across her wrist. “Don’t forget, okay?”

  “I won’t. See you tomorrow, Jack.” She jerked her hand away and left. I felt better but still uncertain about my future. No matter what it turned out to be, an ache grew in my gut, wanting Danielle to be a part of it.

  19

  PJ

  “Why don’t our families have pools?” Riley asked me from where she lounged on one of the reclining porch seats. “Both our yards have no shade and no pool,” she scoffed. “We say this every August as we roast our asses off.”

  “We can add it to our bucket list.”

  Riley lived two houses away, and we were always in each other’s room or yard. That was, before Dylan and I got together. This was the longest we’d hung out in weeks. “When I’m a fa
mous artist and you’re … what are you majoring in again?”

  “I’m undecided. Which means I have no clue, but that’s all part of the college experience right?” She took a sip from a bottle of water. “Not everyone is a creative genius like you.”

  “I’m far from a genius, Ry. I’m still figuring things out, too.”

  She craned her head to me before lifting her sunglasses. “You seem to have your little secret affair across the street figured out though, right?”

  “It won’t be secret for long. We just … haven’t found the right time.”

  “I’m sure all that sexy time gets in the way.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Not that you’re very forthcoming with details.”

  “Maybe I want to keep things to myself.” And not reiterate how I throw myself at my boyfriend on an almost nightly basis, and he shuts me down at third base.

  “Both your parents are home. I can leave so you can let them know about the whole forbidden love with Jack’s best friend thing.” Her whisper was loud and made my body stiffen with tension. I did a quick scan of the yard to see where my parents were.

  “We wanted to do it together. Since we know it’s not going to go well, we wanted to do it—”

  “PJ,” Riley started before swinging her legs around the edge and standing. “I love you, but I can always tell when you’re lying. What are you going to do if you get caught?” She tapped her foot on the concrete. “He’s only across the street. I’m impressed your parents don’t have a clue yet.”

  “They do,” I groaned and let my head fall back. “Well, they know something is going on; they just don’t think it has anything to do with Dylan. They keep asking questions about staying and trying to make me tell them where I’ve been without actually asking me.” I covered my eyes with my hand and shook my head. “I’m a chickenshit, okay? There I said it.”

  “Admitting it is the first step.” We shared a laugh—a sad laugh at this sad situation.

  “Thanks for running over, Dylan.” My dad’s booming voice filled the space before I sputtered a cough on a mouthful of water. Riley and I met each other’s widened eyes. After all these weeks of wanting to get it over with, my heart jackhammered against my chest as if it were trying to escape. I wanted to tell everyone before we got caught, but the only words I could think of were not now. Chickenshit, indeed.

  “Hey, ladies.” My father gave us both a big smile as Dylan trailed behind him. My gaze slid to his before he gave me a slight shake of his head. My gut collapsed in both relief and disappointment.

  “The damn air conditioning keeps leaking and turning off, and I forgot we have a contractor in the family.” Dad beamed at Dylan, and I was sick. My stomach turned at my father referring to my secret boyfriend as “family.”

  “Dylan is going to fix it for us.” He jabbed Dylan’s shoulder. “Don’t mind us.”

  “No worries.” I smiled big to hide the panic.

  Dylan nodded a hello to Riley and shot me a quick wistful glance.

  “Hey,” Dylan’s tone was casual to anyone who didn’t know what was going on between us. I heard, and felt, the rasp on the edge of his voice. His eyes lingered on my strings of my bikini top before darting back to the ground.

  “Hey,” I croaked, my reply catching in my throat when all I wanted to do was kiss him hello. It was a three-second, half-assed acknowledgment of each other’s presence, but it made my breath halt all the same.

  I watched as he followed my father, careful not to let my jaw drop or my tongue hang out of my mouth. A threadbare white T-shirt stuck to his torso, stretching and clinging to his broad chest from the sweltering heat. His strong fingers wrapped around the handle of his toolbox, the same ones that were deep inside me last night, twisting and turning until I came apart. He laughed, hearty and loud, at something my father said, and my eyes landed on his mouth. My hand wiped down my neck, my skin remembering the scratch of the bristles of his beard and the silk of his tongue.

  “Jesus Christ, PJ,” Riley whispered. “I felt like a creeper watching that.” She waved her hand in front of her face as if she was fanning herself.

  “Watching what? He said hello and he’s here to help my dad.”

  “That look of longing, the simmering stare that said I want to ravage you on the grass next to the basil garden. Hot damn, how can no one see it?”

  I stood, shaking my head. “You need to cool off.”

  “Well, let’s hope Dylan can fix the air conditioner so I can, too,” Mom said from behind us. “We tried to get a repairman here, but they didn’t have an opening for another week. It’s lucky Dylan is across the street.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.” Riley gave me a side-eye that I prayed Mom didn’t notice. “I’m going to head home. My shift starts at five. Nice to see you, Mrs. Garcia.” Riley waved before making her way out of our yard. She gave me a cursory glance before walking out the gate.

  “Something wrong, PJ?” Mom went to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and I flinched on instinct. I always told Mom everything, even about my feelings for Dylan. Telling her I was with Dylan didn’t come so easy. I wasn’t sure how to even start.

  “Nope, all good!” The pursing of my mother’s lips was more telling than I’d liked. Maybe I wasn’t so stealthy, after all.

  “You can talk to me, you know?” Mom whispered. “Maybe tomorrow you cannot run to … wherever you’re going … after school, and we can go somewhere and have a chat? What do you think?”

  I met my mother’s kind but worried eyes. I’d confided in her with everything my entire life; why couldn’t I tell her this? I nodded, whispering a sure, but not meaning it.

  “All fixed!” Dad bellowed as he came closer. “This guy is a genius.” He motioned to Dylan behind him with his thumb.

  Dylan scratched the back of his head after making quick eye contact with my parents. An uneasy laugh stumbled from his lips.

  “Easy thing. Patric—PJ is the genius.” My cheeks heated as I got lost in his nervous but heart-stopping smile. Dad didn’t notice his little slip, but Mom squinted as she looked between us.

  “A genius that’s staying on this coast.” Dad kissed the top of my head before making his way over to my mother.

  “I heard.” Dylan’s voice was tense, and I wondered if anyone picked up on it besides me. “That’s great.” He cleared his throat and grabbed his tools. “I better get going. Nice to see you guys.” Dylan left our yard in a rush, leaving me feeling all kinds of hollow.

  He’d been at our house hundreds of times and had an easy rapport with both of my parents. Couldn’t it still be that way after they found out we were together? I hated that we had to pretend to be distant friends when we were so much more. What we had was wonderful and my every dream come true, but pretending like it didn’t exist—like we didn’t exist—made it feel cheap and dirty.

  “Well, I’m getting the hell out of this heat now that the air conditioning works again. How about we go out to eat tonight? Just the three of us.” Dad gave me a hopeful grin that I forced myself to return without crying. Lying to him was killing me, but I didn’t know how to stop.

  “I can’t, Dad. Helping with another painting class tonight.” Or meeting Dylan as soon as you guys leave the house.

  “Oh, okay. But enough, Patricia Jane.” I panicked at the crinkle in his forehead. “Too many hours between teaching art class at school and the painting classes. You’re supposed to enjoy your last summer before college.” He grabbed my mother’s hand. “Looks like it’s just us again, Ella-Jane.”

  “Looks like.” Mom answered but kept her gaze on me. “If it gets to be too much, you’ll … let me know, right?” Her gaze was sympathetic, most likely thinking this was the usual unrequited crush tension between Dylan and me, not the combustible attraction we had to hide.

  “I will, promise,” I lied.

  It was already too much, but there was no one to tell. Being in love, without being able to say it, was the loneliest I’d ever been in my life.
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br />   20

  Danielle

  “Goodnight, Danielle. Thank you!” my boss, Rachel, called out to me as I was leaving the center. I nodded back and held in a laugh. Other therapists had families and, well, lives, other than this place. Coming in on a Saturday wasn’t the same hardship for me as it was for them. Tearing myself away from Chicago Fire reruns and low-fat ice cream wasn’t exactly what I called a sacrifice.

  I dreaded seeing my brother tomorrow. I was sure outpatient therapy sessions weren’t what he meant when he wanted me to get out more on the weekends. I strolled toward the parking lot, letting out a long sigh as I anticipated the usual loving nudge my family gave me over Sunday dinner. I couldn’t help but think maybe they were as ashamed of me as I was of myself.

  “You love this place so much you’re putting in extra hours, huh?”

  I jumped at the familiar timbre behind me. I turned around, a grin stretching my lips.

  “Sure! What’s not to love?”

  Jack’s smile grew wide as he rose from the bench next to the entrance. He ambled around using one crutch for support, but he walked almost normally.

  My former boss had warned me about “special relationships.” Patients looked to us for validation and hope and—especially in cases when injuries were serious—grew strong emotional attachments to us. When it was time to be discharged, their need for us was gone. When this happened in the past, I was able to wish them well and accept never seeing them again. But Jack … Jack was different. Unlike his attachment, mine was preexisting and would be much harder to shake. Even though it pained me to admit it, having him here made me feel less alone. That meant once he did leave, I’d feel twice as alone.