His Assurance (Assured Distraction Book 3) (26 page)

This made me laugh out loud. “Not a problem, Doctor.”

This doctor’s office looked like the whole new age movement had moved in and taken up residence. Just what I needed, some weird dude setting my crystals back in line. I was still not sure whatever the hell that meant. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long in the office.

He talked to me like I could hear him, and I looked to Ryan for help. Ryan told the doctor what was going on, so he used Ryan’s phone to message me.

Doctor:
So, we are going to start with the easiest fix, and that is to spin you in the chair in several directions. Most of my patients are good as new once that’s done.

“You're going to spin me around? Is this some new section of the medical books or something? I’ve never heard of it being a cure for anything? And you should know that spinning me is going to cause me to barf all over this office.”

Doctor:
The inner workings of the ear are very delicate. When those minute parts get out of alignment, it causes the body to not feel stable, hence the reason for your dizziness and falling. What we want to do is put those pieces where they belong. Usually, this stops your problems. It should also end the nausea.

“Great, let’s do it.” The doctor smiled at me. I was still wondering where this guy went to medical school, maybe a voodoo clinic on some Caribbean island? He didn’t have doctor in front of his name, but I guess his diplomas were in an office somewhere.

He directed me to sit in an office chair and stood behind me. Ryan was looking at him, so I suppose they were talking.

Ryan:
He says for you to hold on to the arms of the chair tightly and don’t let go. He’s going to spin you both directions quickly, and you might fall out of the chair if you don’t hold on. I’ll be right here, though buddy, so don’t worry. I’m not going to let you fall out of the chair.

“Yeah, remember that the next time I’ve had too much to drink, please.” I could see he was laughing at my joke. He held up three fingers so he could count down before blast-off happened.

Three, two, one. Oh my God. I thought I was dying. He spun the chair out of control like I was on the cup ride at Disney for about five turns, helping it with each spin. Then he brought the chair to a dead stop, and before I could breathe, he spun me the other way. I knew I was going to lose my lunch. I could feel it working its way out of my stomach and up my esophagus. The chair came to another abrupt stop and then immediately the other way again. It was too much. I was an invalid, remember? I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t open my mouth for fear of barfing all over him, myself, and if I had to guess Ryan, too.

Finally, he stopped the chair again but didn’t make a move to do it again. Thank God in Heaven.

Doctor:
Now don’t move. Give yourself time to adjust.

“Not a problem, but you might want to find me one of the blue barf bags.” He quickly handed me one from the dispenser on the wall, which made me think people threw up in here often. After that treatment, I could see why.

Fortunately for all of us, I didn’t need to use it. I sat there for a few minutes, and I could tell something was different. I didn’t know what yet, but there was a new feeling in my head.

Doctor:
Okay, let’s get you up and see how that feels.

I slowly stood from the chair just in case it didn’t work. I stood there a minute and then took a step. “Doc, this is amazing. The feeling is gone. I don’t feel dizzy at all anymore. What about if I stand up fast?”

Doctor:
I think you’ll see that it won’t be one hundred percent immediately, but over the next week or so, you’ll begin forgetting about it because the feeling will come less and less. Take it easy still. You don’t want to overdo it. You still might have bouts of some dizziness, but I believe my work is done here for now. If it begins occurring again frequently, come back and see me. If not, have a good life.

I vigorously shook his hand. This was one battle that was happily behind me. The dizziness and nausea was flat annoying.

“Thank you so very much Doc, and no offense, but I hope I don’t see you again.”

He said
none taken
directly to me, and I could read it on his lips. I nodded and looked at Ryan. “Let’s motor, dude. I feel great now.”

Ryan:
Nice try, shithead. You’re still not driving.

“Prick.”

“Douche.” I read his lips.

“Asshat.”

“Dickhead.” Again, I read his lips.

“Fucktard.”

Ryan said something and I pointed to my ears, so he pulled out his phone to type it in.

Ryan:
Hey, now that's hitting below the belt.

I laughed when I read it.

“Okay, we’ll call it even then.” Yeah, we were still fourteen years old.

“I had a great interview,
Poppie
.” I knew my tone was unenthusiastic, but it was closer to the truth than the words I chose.

“If that’s the case,
ma petite
, why do you sound sad? Shouldn’t you be thrilled?”

“Yes sir, I should, but I’m not sure I want to live the rest of my life in Houston.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to live there another five minutes, and I knew not with my mom any longer than necessary.

“Who said anything about the rest of your life? Lola, you can work anywhere in the world. Houston’s simply a stop off on your way to bigger and better things.” He sounded excited for me, and I wished I could be. I was just not happy right now.

“I know, Dad, but I don’t want to take a job here and then discover I want to live in another city altogether. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“What's wrong,
ma petite
? What’s got you in such a mood? You left here ready to take on the medical world, and now you’re floundering?”

“I don’t know what the problem is. I’m not happy with anything anymore.”

“Could this man you went to see in Austin have anything to do with this,
mon chéri
?”

When he said that, the tears started flowing. “Oh, Daddy. Yes, but there’s nothing I can do. He doesn’t love me or maybe he doesn’t even like me. I don’t know. He just told me to leave. That his life wasn’t right for me, and that it was best for me to come to Houston and forget about being an
‘us.’
That’s the problem. I don’t want to forget about being
‘us.’
”

“Why would he think that, Lola? You’re a great catch.”

“He’s a musician and thinks that his life wouldn't work for us. He didn’t even give me the option to make up my own mind, though.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks. I was being stupid. I shouldn’t cry over some guy. I was better than that. I didn’t have to beg.

“Are you in love,
chéri
?”

“I don’t know, Daddy. I might have been falling in love with him, but he wouldn’t let me stick around long enough to find out.” I told him about the whole accident story.

“Oh, Lola. That’s a lot for you both to deal with. He may never hear again, and then what would he do?”

“So, I’m supposed to ditch him because he’s deaf?” That didn’t sound like something my dad would say.

“I’m not saying that, Lola. I’m saying he needs to find his way before he can find you. It’s a huge change for him. It will keep him from doing what he loves. It’s not simply giving up a career because he isn’t not happy. It’s giving up his life, and it’s out of his hands.”

“I know this, but how can I help him? I don’t want to be shut out of his life.”

“Then don’t be. Go to Austin. Set him straight. You don’t have to be his life, but you can be in it, so he doesn’t forget you’re there for him.”

“You think I should move to Austin to be with him? I can’t believe you are saying this.” Where did this dad come from?

“
Chéri
, when you want something badly enough, you don’t run away from it, no matter what. You run to it, and you keep running until you catch it. If I had run away from your mother, look how sad my life would have been. When she insisted on maintaining her Texas residence, we learned to work around it, and it’s been a wonderful life. If this drummer is who you want, then you need to show him how it’s going to be.”

“I’ll think about it,
Poppie
. I want to be happy, and he makes me happy. Living in Houston makes me unhappy, so moving wouldn’t be a hardship at all for me.”

“Then pack your bags, find yourself an apartment, and get a good job. Be happy. Life is too short not to be.”

“Thank you, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now go.” He hung up the phone. I cannot believe my father would tell me those things. He’s right, though. My parents have never had a normal marriage. He lived in Texas and Paris all my life and so had my mother.

Gunner might not feel that way.

What if he truly doesn’t want me?

Something told me that wasn’t the case, though.

“Okay. I think that’s everything, Journey. Thanks so much for helping me unpack. I think I’m going to love it here. It’s a fun old home, and it’s close to everything I want to do. Best part is that’s it’s close to the hospital where I want to work.”

I stepped forward and hugged her goodbye before she headed back to Houston. Her flight left the next day for Paris so she could get back to school and her friends, who all left after the vacation here. Mom had enjoyed having us both around for a while, but we both were ready to move on, and I think Mom was ready for us to go, too. Dad wanted her in Paris soon and all to himself for a while.

“I'm going to miss you, Lola. It’s so fun now that we are both adults and can do more things together. I think I love you now more than ever before. This whole being a friend thing to you instead of being the little sister is so much better.”

“Yes, it is better, but you’ll always be my little sister no matter how old you are.” We hugged, and she shut the door behind her.

I turned around and looked at all the stuff that still needs to find a home in my little house. I had rented it for three months and then I could choose to stay or find another location. If I got hired at the children’s hospital, I wanted to move closer to it.

As soon as I had all of this organized and put away, I planned on to phase two of this whole operation—‘Get me a drummer.’

Another week without the dizziness but still no sounds. I hoped I would magically wake up one morning and hear something. The leaves moving, the doves cooing, my least favorite sound—grackling. I hated those damn birds, but to hear them make that horrible cawing would be music to me.

I was trying to be patient. The doctor said I needed to be, and he said I needed to rest. I slept all night long when I could. There was a certain blonde-haired, beautiful girl I couldn’t get out of my mind, though. When I laid down at night, she was the first thing that popped into my head. I didn’t know how many times I had rubbed one out thinking about her. It was like my dick knew when I laid down what was coming and instantly hardened. We had had sex on every surface in this room and my bathroom while she was here. That was all I saw when I looked around, and it caused a hard-on like a piece of petrified wood that refused to go away.

I wondered what she was doing. I hadn't contacted her because I knew it would only hurt us both. The last look on her face almost killed me. It left me in a very bad place every time the image appeared in my mind. I hoped she might text me after her interview, but I guess I made my point loud and clear the day I pushed her away.

Oh well. It was what I wanted, so I had to live with it. My phone vibrated in my hand, and I read the message from Cash, the band’s old manager. He had turned the road show over to Peri, and she pretty much ran it all now. She stepped back some when the little Tucker was born, but she still had her hand in everything the band did.

Cash:
You up for a little company

Me:
Sure, you can come anytime and hang out with the hearing impaired

Cash:
That’s temporarily hearing impaired, isn’t it

Me:
Yeah, but it’s been weeks now, and I’m beginning to think it’s going to be permanently hearing impaired. But come on and bring your phone, or we’ll be passing notes like school girls

Cash:
Dude, school girls have cell phones, too. Catch up with the times. Tuck and Crew will probably have them before they start kindergarten

Me:
Whatever. Come on over

A little while later Cash walked in since I couldn’t hear the doorbell ring. I got a text, but it arrived when I was looking at him. Lot of good that did.

Cash:
I’m here.

“No, shit. Come on in.” I said this when we were only feet apart. We shook and hugged it out. I hadn’t seen him in a while.

Cash:
How you doing, Gun? You’re looking a whole lot better than the last time I saw you
.

“I don’t remember the last time I saw you,” I told him.

Cash:
Well, I saw a picture of you with your nose and forehead bleeding.

“That asshat did not post a picture of me online when I fell?” I had to remember to kill Ryan.

Cash:
Uh, I don’t know anything about that. Someone might have included me in a group text with it.

He had a huge smile on his face so I know that dumb shit Ryan must have done it.

“I’m going to beat his ass when I’m well enough.”

Cash:
Speaking of that. How are you really doing?”

I knew Cash meant well, but I hated talking about this. It felt like this was how people would define me now.

“I'm over the whole dizziness and vertigo thing. I can walk without leaning over or trying to throw up last night’s dinner.”

Cash:
That’s great, Gunner. That had to be miserable.

“Yeah, miserable enough for my BFF to send it out on a group text for all the world to laugh at.” I started laughing. Hell, at least someone has enjoyed my problems.