Floating (5 page)

The first time Nate ever came over to my house with blood dripping from a deep cut above his eyebrow, I cried for an hour. After getting a wet washcloth and cleaning the blood off him, I applied Neosporin to the cut and used little butterfly bandages I found above the sink in my parent’s bathroom to patch him up the best I could. We didn’t talk about it, and we didn’t make a big deal of it. I just cleaned him up, he gave me a hug, kissed the top of my head, and we went out to ride his skateboard. This little ritual has been happening about once a week ever since.

Nate doesn’t have the usual sadness in his eyes today though. He looks happy and that in turn makes me extremely happy. Stepping back I squeal,

“You came!”

He chuckles at me in the deep voice that he’s had since just after I met him. Mom says all boys’ voices get deeper as they got older. I thought it was weird, but whatever, I’ll take her word for it “Sure I did, pretty girl. I had to bring you your present, didn’t I?” Nate started working at the local mechanic’s shop after school and on weekends a little while back to earn what he calls, ‘play money’. I never expected him to buy me a present; that’s his money, he needs it far more than I need a gift.

He never gets special gifts or treats, like other kids, when he does something good or just because. He has to buy it all himself. “You didn’t have to get me anything Nate. You coming today is more than good enough for me. In fact, it’s the best present ever.” Giving me another quick hug, he hands me a square box measuring about three-inches by three-inches. Unwrapping it carefully, I open it and gasp out loud. Inside is a beautiful silver charm bracelet. It’s got three charms on it already and it’s gorgeous. One charm is a skateboard; Nate explains that’s for him. One’s a paintbrush; again Nate explains that’s for me. The last is a heart that has ‘Best Friends,’ engraved on it. It’s by far the most beautiful present I ever received and I promise myself I’ll cherish it forever. Throwing my arms around him, I squeeze as tightly as my eleven-year-old arms can, thanking him softly, “It’s the best present ever, Nate. You shouldn’t have spe…..”

Putting his hand over my mouth he stops me mid-sentence. “Yes, I should have. You’re my best friend, Ronnie, and it’s your birthday. Now, hold out your arm so I can put it on.” Dutifully doing what he says, Nate puts my bracelet on and twists my arm back and forth, inspecting it from every angle with a brilliant smile on his face. I have to tell you, I cry just a few tears then; happy ones but tears nonetheless.

We spend the rest of the day swimming, laughing, playing water volleyball, and eating far too much food than was healthy. It’s the best birthday I’ve ever had, and it’s all because of Nate. He made my day. Tonight just before I fall asleep, I do something I haven’t done for a very long time. I thank God, for the day he bought Nate to me.

CHAPTER THREE

Veronica

              I’ve been staying at Nate’s for just over two weeks now, and I’m getting beyond restless. Actually, restless isn’t a fitting enough word for the emotional state I’m in. I’m discombobulated. Sure, I’m bored out of my mind, but that’s not the cause of my restlessness. Nate’s been the perfect host, and semi-caregiver the entire time I’ve been here, attentive without being completely overbearing. That in itself is infuriating, and therein lies the problem.

I don’t want him to be the sweet, caring boy I remembered from all those years ago. I definitely don’t want him to look at me with lust, hunger, and love in his eyes. He’s making it hard to keep the walls around my heart reinforced, and all this, after just four days of staying in the same house as him. He’s given me space since the conversation we had the first day he brought me here. The space he gives me extends to his physical presence as well, but I’m hyperaware of his eyes following me, and the intense looks he gives me when he thinks I’m not looking. I’m always looking. I see every last one, and there are many.

I’ve tried my best to ignore them, tune them out. It just isn’t working any more. The walls I’ve built to protect myself are starting to crumble, turning to ruins at my feet, and pitifully weak only two weeks in. With every extra day that passes, I can feel them disintegrating further, losing their ability to protect the fragile organ in my chest.

He’s patient, watchful, and considerate. Nate makes sure to check on me often, bringing me food, magazines, and arranging people to visit so I don’t feel completely isolated. He’s slowly worming his way back into my heart, and I don’t know if I like it. Its one thing breaking down my walls, I’m a realist after all, I knew it would happen eventually, but it’s a completely different thing to have him actually make me WANT to love him again. I shouldn’t be surprised, it is Nate we’re talking about.

After spending the first couple of days settling in, at Nate’s decree, Kendall, Lexi, Priss, Tilly, and Lou with baby Anna in tow, started coming for coffee, chats, or to bring by some lunch. It’s like they set up a schedule, complete with coordinating times, so I’m not left unattended. It is actually slightly creepy to think about them all sitting down hashing it out. I wonder if they’ve gone as far as scheduling my bathroom breaks and shower times. I’ll have to remember to ask them next time.

I am grateful for all the support and love I’ve been receiving, but at the same time it’s getting harder and harder to stomach the looks of pity and self-recrimination they, specifically Kendall, keep giving me. I hate that they look at me like that, it makes me feel weak and vulnerable. I kept my mouth shut in the beginning, but I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to hold my tongue, I’m not known for my infinite patience. I especially don’t want nor need their pity because I’m doing just fine. This all culminates in my teeny-tiny meltdown yesterday. Obviously, I couldn’t tolerate it for much longer after all.

Priss, Lou and Kendall, and I were sitting in Nate’s lounge room. I was on the leather recliner that had become a good friend to me of late. It worn, the leather is butter soft, and it feels like you’re sitting on a big fluffy cloud. Kendall and Priss were on the couch, and Lou’s stretched out, back against the couch and legs crossed in front of her directly across from me. Nate had taken baby Anna outside to get some fresh air, she had been fussing since they arrived half an hour before. That man was too damn irresistible holding a baby, I was kind of glad he was not in sight anymore

After getting the ten millionth pity filled look from Kendall I snapped. Okay, so maybe that’s a slight exaggeration. It wasn’t ten million exactly, maybe only five million, but seriously, enough was enough, I didn’t mean what I said to come out so harshly, but I was done. D.O.N.E.

“I love you guys,” I said, “But you’re all going to get evicted and banned in about 5 seconds flat if this shit doesn’t stop. I’m not an invalid, and I’m sick of you looking at me like I am. I’m fucking fine, and you all need to accept it and go on about your business.”

Kendall’s head snapped up to look at me, as did Priss’s. Lou just let out a loud laugh filled with mirth. “See, I told you bitches she wouldn’t want all this sympathy crap. Sympathy is between shit and syphilis in the dictionary so who’d want it. No one, that’s who.” Turning to me shaking her head she said, “Sorry, V. I told these two they should move the fuck on and get over it, but clearly they didn’t listen. I get what happened was horrible. Jesus. It was worse than fucking horrible, but you’re one tough bitch, and these two are just being fucking ridiculous. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, other than that crazy bitch that’s dead and buried, that’s all there is to it. I for one say they need to lighten up and celebrate the wicked witch’s demise, not mourn what didn’t happen.”

Kendall let out a gasp of horror and covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes filled with tears, and I couldn’t do anything but laugh at Lou. It made my chest hurt to do it, but damn if it wasn’t worth it. “Absolutely, I agree completely. You two ARE being fucking ridiculous.” Turning to face Kendall I say, “You didn’t ask me to do what I did, Kenny. I did that all on my own and what’s done is done. I’m almost all healed up and I’m going back to work soon. If I’m capable of doing that, clearly I’m well on my way to completely healed. You guys need to move past this because I have, and all you’re doing when you dwell on it is make it worse for me. I want to put this behind me and move on, but I can’t do that until you guys do too.”

Launching herself off the couch, Kendall comes straight to me engulfing me in her arms. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve said that a million times, but I can’t help it. What you did. You didn’t just save me, but my baby and Dec, too. I’m just having trouble coming to terms with that, that’s all.”

I knew this, and I also knew Dec wouldn’t have survived without her; her baby would have died with her that day too, leaving a mark on Dec’s soul that could never be erased. “I know you’re grateful, and that’s all well and good, but in all honesty, you don’t have anything to be sorry for Kenny. I’m glad I did what I did. If it hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here and that is something worth celebrating like Lou said, not being constantly repentant over.”

Squeezing me tightly Kendall replies, “You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just so hard to process you being shot and nearly dying to save me like I said.” Rubbing her hand over her little baby bump, Kendall takes my hand in hers. “I’ll make you a deal.” I raise an eyebrow at her, signalling for her to continue, and she smiles softly. “I’ll stop all the stupid looks and shit, if you allow me to do something to thank you.” Just as I’m about to speak Kendall rushes to finish effectively cutting me off. “I’m not talking about flowers or chocolates, either. I want to do something special, something that shows you how grateful Dec and I really are. You can pick anything you want, it’s totally your choice, skies the limit.”

Is she to be believed, skies the limit? The thing is; I can see the sincerity in her eyes, she means every word. I think I need to have a conversation with Dec in order to determine if this is just pregnancy hormone crazy, or genuine, bona fide, loco crazy, lock her up and throw away the key insane. It’s also the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. There is no way in HELL I would let her and Dec try to repay me with material possessions like she just suggested, but seeing the determination etched on her face, I know there’s no way she’s going to let me get out of this without giving her an answer. Whether she accepts that answer or not is another story altogether. Stubborn cow. Then the perfect solution comes to mind. I swear I’m a freaking genius sometimes, and it solves both our problems. It’s meaningful to me without being material, and I think it might even help Kendall through processing this shit. “Um. I do have something I want. You can say no, I mean…”

Clapping her hands Kendall squeals. No. Scratch what I said before, there’s no need to ask Dec after all. She’s definitely loco if she’s getting this excited over doing something for me without waiting to hear what it is. For all she knows I could ask her to wax my vagina for Christ’s sake. Not that I’d ever do that, but she doesn’t know that “Anything. What is it you want V?”

Taking a deep breath I ask, “Would you, I mean, would you do a tattoo for me?”

Her brow furrows and she looks a little pissed. No. Maybe it’s more frustrated than pissed. Just as I’m about to tell her to forget about it, that it was a stupid idea, she comes back with, “Uh, of course, but that’s not something big, V. I would have done that anytime you wanted, you know that.”

What Kendall doesn’t know yet is where I want the tattoo, and how important it is to me. Every day when I get out of the shower and look in the mirror, I see the scar on my chest staring back at me. The smooth skin that was once there is now raised, and feels like reading Braille when I touch it. I’m not embarrassed by it, and it’s sure as shit not vanity that I’m worried about. Honestly, part of me is proud to wear it knowing what it represents. The other part of me, doesn’t want to spend the rest of my life looking in the mirror, being forced to remember that horrible day, over and over again.

Sitting back I sigh. “I want to cover the scar, Kenny.” Lou and Priss both give me bright smiles and nods of encouragement. Kendall looks thoughtful, pensive even. “It’s important to me, Kenny. I’m not vain, it’s not about looks; I could care less about that shit, and you know that. I just don’t want to have to have a permanent reminder of the day you and I could have died, staring me in the face forever.”

Kendall narrows her eyes a little and then stands abruptly. “Right, well, that I can do. I’ll need to have a look and check the progress of your healing first, though. If the scar is still too fresh, we’ll have to wait until it’s settled down and a doctor clears you before you can have it done.” A broad smile spreads across my face, which Kendall instantly returns. “I can draw you up a few ideas now, and we can work on them until it’s time to put it in ink. Do you have any idea what you’re after?”

I give her a genuine, full wattage smile. The first one I think I’ve given anyone since the day of Kendall’s wedding, right before the incident. “Actually, I know exactly what I want.” I’d thought about this a lot in the last week or so. I hadn’t mentioned anything to Nate, because at the end of the day it wasn’t any of his business, but I had it all planned out in my head, hoping to get the chance to ask Kendall sometime soon. Clearing my throat, I explain what I want. “I was hoping you could do a large peacock feather starting near my belly button, going up to cover the scar, and ending up near my collarbone. I want lots of deep, vibrant colours, and I want it to have that artistic flair that only you can make happen.”

Bursting into tears Kendall lets out a strangled sob. Priss hugs her tight and Lou sits on the armrest beside me, with my hand in hers. Jesus Christ. One minute she’s smiling, the next she’s crying. This is WAY worse than PMS. Poor Dec, I muse before Lou shakes me from the happy thought that Dec is suffering, thus paying the pain of pregnancy forward. “Awesome idea, V. That’ll look smoking hot. I think your man will love it”

Lou always makes me smile. She’s so outgoing and loud you can’t help but be drawn to her. But what’s this ‘my man’ business? I don’t have a man, so the only person she can be referring to is Nate, and there is no way in holy hell, I’m going to be showing him this. Not if I can help it. This again proves my point; all the women in my life are fucking crazy. I love them, but they seriously need to seek professional assistance.

Composing herself Kendall gives me a sad, somewhat embarrassed smile. “Ignore me. They were happy tears. Lou’s right, that’s is a fucking fantastic idea. It’ll work beautifully with the flow of your body. Better still, using coloured ink means the needle won’t have to go as deep around, or over the scar and the colours will look sweet with you skin tone and beautiful red hair.” Now I burst into tears. We must look like a bunch of hormonal teenagers crying over the loss of their favourite lip gloss. I could very well belong on the certifiable list with them after all. Before I can explore that option any further, the front door slams open and a furious looking Nate bursts into the living room. Anger and fear are etched all over his face, and I can’t help but feel the tiniest bit sorry for worrying him. “What the fuck is going on? Why the fuck is my woman crying?” he barks. This isn’t the first time Nate’s called me his woman, and most of the time I try not to react to it. The bastard would love to know deeply he affects me, I can imagine the smirk he’d have on his face right now. He can’t know that when he says it, it makes my heart speed up, my insides turn to mush, and I want to melt into a gelatinous pool on the ground at his feet.

Lou decides to address the furious biker in the room. I personally think she’s the only one with big enough balls to do it anyway. “Calm down, cranky biker dude. V’s fine. We’re all fine. Thanks for asking by the way. We were just discussing something that made her so happy she had a little ocular leakage incident. Nothing to get your panties in a bunch over, that is if you wear them.” She tilts her head to the side as if she’s trying to work something out. “I mean, I can totally see you as a commando dude, all macho caveman and shit. Worst-case scenario, boxer briefs and seriously, that shit just hinders immediate access. You should consider ditching them.” Just like that, all the women in the room go from tears, to fits of laughter.