Love Found in California (The Washington Triplets) (6 page)

“Morning, love,” Ryan whispers.

“Ry?” I reply just as quietly.

“Mmm hmm?” he asks, in between licking and kissing my neck.

“I love you.”

“And I you.” Another lick and kiss. “So much.” At that he gives me a peck on my cheek and swats my behind lightly. Then the heat his body provided me vanishes. Soon I hear the shower water running and I let myself succumb to sleep again.

As I re-wake, I know within a second that I had the same horrific nightmare again. Sweat layers my body from head to toe and my chest feels weighted down, letting me know that my past made its way into my sleep. Memories of being restrained remind me of just how much that night keeps me prisoner. Years and miles only start to lessen the effects on me. Even Ryan cannot take it all away. As much as I’d like to believe it’s almost over, or that my life changes have removed me from the pain, it’s just not true.

Waking up this way happens more often than not. It’s not a pleasant way to start my day, but then I remember earlier. Ryan kissing me or saying goodbye is what gets me going after one of my nightmares. The other day when I thought he had just left without letting me know crushed me. This is the reason I’ve become reliant on his assurances before he leaves for work. After the terror of the nightmare, I need the memory of Ryan to help me get up and stay in the present.

After I shower and get ready, I sit looking at my emails. Of course I re-read Dad’s email about the wedding. Now Mya has finally replied after my reply with a simple ‘No’. A deep huff of a laugh bubbles up because this is so Mya. Smiling at the response, I know she’ll come around, or at least the old Mya would eventually come around. Since Mya was the first to move away and has been gone the longest, she’s missed out on more. She doesn’t know anything about how Mom and Dad were before Mom passed. I imagine she’s pissed as hell about this email from Dad. She can’t possibly understand why he would be proposing to Janet and marrying her so soon after Mom’s death … but I have a different insight to the situation.

It was end of the summer, I should have been packing for college, but I was in my room with the door locked. Sometimes for good measure I’d put my desk chair under the door handle, mostly at night before bed. Just in case, I’d tell myself. Marisa and Mya’s voices floated outside the door as they walked in and out of their rooms. Then I could hear their footsteps, as well as my parents’, moving down and out of the house to load the cars up. My mom was taking Marisa and my dad was taking Mya.

See, it’s better I’m not going to college. Who would have taken me?

I lay in my bed, the same as I had been doing almost the entire summer. Well, at least since the neighborhood party in June. That’s exactly when my life changed. Permanently.

“What is her deal? Is she even going to come out and say goodbye to us?” Mya asked Marisa. Her tone was clipped and edgy, but I knew she was hurt by my withdrawn behavior over the last couple of months.

“I don’t know, Mya. I’m sure Mom will talk to her,” Marisa replied sweetly.

Tears pierced my eyes and I didn’t bother holding them in one bit. They slipped from my lids, fell from cheeks and soaked my nightshirt. I cried quietly though. Everyday I got better at crying silently to myself.

Knock, knock. “It’s me Mik, it’s Mom. No one else is here right now,” my mom whispered through the tight crack of my door. Hesitantly, I got up from my bed and opened the door. My mom knew the routine and closed it after, even locking it up.

“Honey, my precious girl, please tell me,” she continued to whisper as she wiped the tears from my face. I shook in front of her and my knees wobbled. Her arms came around me, holding me up, and then guided us to the bed. Weakly, I crumbled into her lap and let her stroke my long hair.

Everyday she tried to find out what had me secluded, depressed and anxious. I wanted to tell her, wanted to tell someone, but was too hurt; devastated, scared, nervous, afraid, guilty … the list went on. It’s funny how I had been going on daily in my life with no real highs or lows of emotions, but now I had realized that it only took something more life-changing, significant, to hit a high or low, as in my case. Now all kinds of emotions I never dreamed of feeling were constants.

“Mom, just tell them goodbye for me, please. I can’t, I can’t do it.” I uttered the words as regret already filled me. I knew I would regret it as soon as I said it.

Staring blankly at the screen, I add replying to my sisters again to my list of issues to cover with my therapist. While I’m at it I need to actually reply to Dad’s email too. This need to fix, repair and rebuild my relationships with my family looms heavily in my mind. Ryan being the very first and most important person I need to mend my relationship with.

My fingers started typing as if on their own accord. They flew feverously across the keyboard revealing my secrets. I couldn’t stop myself; it all flowed out too easily on the screen. The details didn’t hold me back like when I was in front of someone. Feelings of relief invaded me from a deep place that still had miles to travel to be in full bloom.

When I look up at the clock, I see I’m almost twenty minutes late for work. My mouse hovers over the send button, hesitantly, and then reality hits me and I click on
Save Draft
.

Ryan took care of getting a rental car, and when I get to the garage I’m not surprised to see a Lincoln Navigator parked in my spot. He had told me he asked them for the biggest SUV they had. Seeing this thing take up almost our entire garage, I shake my head because I know Ryan wanted me to be safer in a bigger car. What he doesn’t realize is that I may just crash this thing because it’s so gigantic.

***

Safely, and in one piece, I park the monster of a car and rush into work. Practically running down the hallway to my office, probably more clumsily than I should be right now, I can smell a strong floral scent before I even hit my doorway. Out of breath, I walk in and view the biggest arrangement I’ve ever seen sitting right in the middle of my desk. Slowly catching my breath, I walk calmly over to it and pick up the small card out of the center of the flowers.

Squeezing my lips into my teeth, I inhale and hold my breath in, and then the small smile I form can no longer be held in. My fingertips graze the top of the petals, letting me admire their beauty and I relax as I re-read Ryan’s simple words.

Before I can even get my bearings, my co-workers begin to flock in to hear about the horror of the accident. I think they’re a little disappointed with the lack of excitement in the story. It doesn’t surprise me because this office loves gossip just as much as a group of middle school girls. Skating around too many details I resort to the pile of work on my cabinet behind my desk. They leave easily, I’m sure because I’m now the boss’ wife.

The first thing I do as I wait for my computer to turn on is text Ryan.

Mikaela: They’re beautiful

Barely a second goes by and he replies.

Ryan: Like you

Mikaela: I was late

Ryan: Don’t care … but I can punish you later if you’d like ;)

Trying to think of something fun and witty to reply with, I smirk down at my phone. Before I get to type again Carrie knocks on my door.

“What has you smiling? Ryan?” she asks with laughter in her tone. Lifting my head more upright, I shrug and smile at her. “I’m so sorry. Are you feeling okay?”

“I am, I’m fine. Just a little scare is all.” Carrie makes her way over to me and surprises me when she awkwardly hugs me while I’m sitting at my chair. “Oh, really, everything is good.” I try to ease her concern and pull away.

“Sorry, I just was so worried and Ryan didn’t want me to come over. I wanted to though.” I’m thankful Ryan kept her away. I love Carrie, but she can be too much at times and this would have been one of those times. “Okay I know you want to dive back into your work, so how about lunch? I have updates on Justin and now a Kirk guy,” she says while raising her eyebrows.

Laughing, I tell her, “Can I take a rain check? I was late and want to get a handle on everything.”

Rolling her eyes at me as she pulls her hair back in a ponytail she says, “Fine. You’re no fun!” I roll my eyes right back and let her leave my office.

Not hesitating any longer, I dive right into my work, pulling up graphics and designs for a client that I’ve been working with the last month. My deadline isn’t until next week, but I hate to be scrambling around and feel rushed. Before I know it, there’s a knock on my door and in comes one of the caterers I’ve seen in our building for big meetings.

The guy glances back at my nameplate just beside my door and asks, “Um, Mikaela Chambers?”

“Yes, that’s me,” I reply confused.

“Great, this is for you.” In he walks with a small bag. He places the bag on my desk and I scramble to look for my purse to tip him. “No, no this is from Mr. Chambers. It’s all taken care of.”

“Oh, well, thank you so much.” I peek through the top of the bag; the smell of something delicious drifting into my office.

“Enjoy.”

My stomach growls as I look at my clock to see it’s already my lunchtime, one o’clock. Pulling out a small container and then a larger one, I decide to open the small one first. Gazpacho soup. My mouth salivates before I can get my first spoonful in. Without a break, I take in several more scoops. Delicious. Then I open the larger container and see a Caesar salad, anchovies and all. Oh how Ryan knows me so well, even in the short amount of time we’ve been together, he gets it right almost every time.

As I alternate between scooping the soup and taking a bite of the salad, I decide to text Ryan. He’s done everything to make sure this day back at work is as easy on me as possible.

Mikaela: It’s delicious

Unable to keep my fingers attached to my phone I go in for another bite of the salad, making sure to sneak in some anchovy.
Ping.

Ryan: I didn’t want you skipping lunch. Glad you like

Mikaela: You’ve made this day perfect

Ryan: You deserve all of it and more. Did you call the therapist?

I take a bite, then another, then a few more as I stare at the screen of my phone on my desk. Stalling a bit more, I decide to finish my whole meal. And then just to stall even longer, I decide to check through my work emails and respond to all of them.

Damn it.
It’s not that I thought Ryan would forget or that I even wanted to forget, but I just can’t imagine telling him everything. The
what if’s
begin to invade my mind and then feelings of anger rise in me … Not at Ryan, not even at myself, but at the one person who always makes me the most angry. The situation with my sisters and Dad never reach this level or intensity, but still there is displeasure. The red I’m familiar with coats my insides like liquid fury. Shakily I run my hands through my long dark hair and grit my teeth together. Iciness streams through, the blue that always comes next and my breathing becomes erratic.
Damn it. God damn it. Fuck.
If I could have my way, that’s what I’d yell out.

Forcefully, I make a fist and instead of hitting my desk I push it up to my mouth and bite down hard. After pain floods through me, my breathing calms and I release my bite. At the same time tears fill my eyes and I hear my door opening. Ryan purposefully makes his way to me and then grabs me up out of my chair, wrapping his arms around me.

Heaving in and out, almost hyperventilating I try to hold in any gasps. For a second I swear I feel purple invading me, but then I tune into the arms that hold me, the way his fingers stroke my back providing me with calmness. This isn’t the first or the last time Ryan’s seen me like this, but now I have to try to find a way to face my past with him.

“I’ve got you. Remember we are in this together.” Ryan’s lips smooth across my cheek and then whisper in my ear, “Whatever it is, I’m not going anywhere.”

My breathing slows and my body relaxes while supported in his arms, against his chest. Sounding like a sullen teenager I mumble, “I’m sorry. I wish it would all go away.” Ryan doesn’t ask about what I wish would go away, but just comforts me, like always. And to my surprise it works, he comforts me, makes me feel stronger, more ready to confront my past and learn to trust again.

“I’ll call. I’ll set it all up, love.”