Without warning, she went from unconscious to kissing me. I returned her kiss, but then pulled back. I’d read about this too. It was a common phenomenon when a loved one died. The uncontrollable desire for a person to feel something other than the pain they felt. It was more common with men, who didn’t know how to express themselves, when all they really wanted was for someone to hold them but didn’t know how to ask.
I held her face between my hands. “I’m here, Kayla.” She tried to kiss me again, but gave up when I constricted her arms and held her against my chest. “You don’t want this. You’re just suffering.”
“I want you to love me!” she cried.
“I do love you. But we can’t —” Uncomfortable with telling her no, I cut off my words and tried again. “It’s just your body’s reaction that makes you think you want sex. I don’t want you to remember this night like that.”
“Jesse!” she hissed. “Why do you have to take control of every situation?”
I ignored her affront. She didn’t mean it. Although, deep down, she probably did. I knew that she appreciated that about me. I was like her father, so she’d lash out at me because she was angry with her father. Instead of responding, I accepted the insults as needed therapy.
“Let me go!” she screamed.
“Not yet.”
“I said, let me go!” she shrieked again.
“Kayla, please, you’re not mad at me. You’re —”
“Stop that! Stop telling me what I’m feeling. Let me go!”
Although she struggled, I was stronger, so I wasn’t about to let her go. I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing, but I knew she was being unreasonable, and that she’d come to her senses eventually. She was safer in my arms than anywhere else, and that was all that mattered to me.
My arms tightly around her, I tried again, “I know I haven’t lost a parent to death, but I did lose a parent. I know what the abandonment feels like. Right now you’re afraid that you can’t hold on to anything, so you want to push me away. But that’s not going to happen. I won’t let you. We promised, remember, that we’d talk about everything and that we wouldn’t push each other away or pull back from each other. You don’t have to talk … you just have to be with me.”
She relaxed in my arms as another wave of contractions shuddered through her body. The water in her tear-filled eyes spilled onto her cheeks, and I knew I’d broken through her first few waves of anxiety. We would get through this together. I loosened my grip and pressed my hand to her face. I pulled her gently against my chest and rested my face on the top of her head.
“I’m … sorry,” she mumbled.
“You don’t have to be sorry. I understand. I really do. I’m here for you. No matter what.”
“But I was hateful, Jesse. I didn’t mean it. Honest.”
I pulled back to look at her. “It’s okay, Kayla. I know you’re not mad at me. I know you only lashed out at me because I’m here. But you don’t have to worry. I’ll never leave you.”
“What if you do?” She sniffed back tears. “What if something happens to you? What would I do? Why is God punishing me?”
“Oh, Kayla.” I pulled her to me again. “You can’t think like that. You can’t live your life worried about what might happen. And God’s not punishing you.” She was thoughtful for a moment. I knew I sounded like her father, and it gave her pause. I didn’t mean to do it, but I was an awful lot like John. I just wished I could have gotten to know him better. “Are you hungry? I’m sure you haven’t eaten since yesterday, have you?”
She shook her head.
“For me … please. Something simple, like cereal? I don’t want you to get sick.”
She struggled to sit up, so I helped her. She was probably dehydrated. I needed her to eat and drink, or I’d be taking her to the hospital.
I pulled her against me and wrapped an arm around her waist. She stumbled forward, leaning into me.
“Does anything sound good? Toast, cereal, crackers?”
“No, but I’ll force something down. For you, Jesse.”
“For us.”
I made her a small bowl of cereal. She ate a few bites, drank some water at my pleading, but then stared up at me. “Can I go back to bed? I just need to sleep.”
I nodded, trying desperately not to cry. I needed to be strong, I reminded myself.
She undressed and slipped into a T-shirt.
I pulled her into my arms, feeling her body lift and fall unsteadily as she tried to control the sobs. I held her tighter, soothing her as much as possible. I simply didn’t know what to do other than hold her.
Chapter 35 - Jesse
It was early, barely light outside, but I felt Kayla get out of bed.
I said nothing, just waited as she went into the bathroom, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. I knew I couldn’t ask what she was doing or how she felt every second, so I just watched her without a word until I saw that she was getting dressed.
“Where are you going?” I whispered.
“I have to take care of the horses.”
“Can I come?” I asked, not sure if I’d give her an option if she said no.
She shrugged, and my stomach plunged.
Instead of wallowing, I made a decision. “I’d like to come. You can show me what to do, and then I’ll be able to help.”
No response. She just lowered herself onto the wingback chair where I’d sat yesterday. Her head lolled to one side as she waited.
I washed my face and brushed my teeth, pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt, then walked over to where she sat. I knelt down in front of her, and she leaned forward, resting her head on my shoulder. My arms, seemingly of their own accord, folded around her, pulling her body completely into mine. Standing up, I lifted her in my arms and sat back down in the chair with her in my lap. I wished I could take away all her pain. When we’d driven to Juniper Springs, she’d said that she could talk about her mother’s death because it had happened, and nothing could change it. Her father had echoed similar words. I wanted to quote them both, but I couldn’t. I could only hope that she’d find that strength again.
Kayla leaned against me as we walked to the truck. I assisted her into the cab, then walked around to my side.
The ride was just slightly less than fifteen minutes. We pulled into the driveway and sat silently for a minute, watching the sun peek over the trees.
“Are you sure?” I asked as I looked up at the house and barn. “I could do this for you.”
She released a soft sigh. “I have to, Jesse. It’s my job.”
The sound of my name on her lips, as always, warmed my heart. She’d be okay. She had to be. Here she was already out of bed, trying to be normal.
I drove forward slowly, parking the truck close to the barn. Kayla got out and mindlessly went to work. The horses stamped and whinnied, as though they were happy to see her. She walked to the first stall. Sugar — according to his nameplate — ambled over, nose down. Her head lowered too, Kayla stroked his neck. Tears formed at the edges of her eyes, then fell down her face.
As if on auto-pilot, Kayla started cleaning out his stall, and then proceeded to groom him. She laid out a leather satchel that held different tools: brushes, combs, and picks. Her voice monotone, she began to speak as she held up a round tool with short teeth. “This is called a curry; it’s used to remove loose hairs.” She followed up with a stiff-bristled brush. “This is a dandy brush. It takes off the dirt and hair I loosened with the curry comb.” Her hand moved in short flicking motions as she pulled the brush through his coat and whisked out the dirt. “The finishing touch is the body brush. It has soft bristles, but you still need to be very careful around his eyes, ears, and muzzle.” She held out the brush to me. Up to this point, I had been leaning against the barn wall, as far out of the way as I could.
I gulped. “You want me to brush him?” I had assumed I’d do something that didn’t require skill, like cleaning out the stall.
/> “That way I can start on his hooves,” she said, her voice flat. Still, she was talking and asking for help.
I accepted the brush hesitantly. The only times I’d been near a horse was when I was a young kid and when I’d rode with Kayla, but all I had done was sit on top. I’d never had to stand beside one so closely, where it towered over me.
“Just relax and breathe. Don’t show any fear. They can sense it.”
I stood beside Kayla and let her demonstrate. Her hand rested on mine, the way I’d shown her how to paddle a kayak. Sugar made a disgusted sound, as if he wished this idiot wouldn’t manhandle him, and she soothed him, whispering encouraging words.
This was the best therapy Kayla could get. This was normal, and she loved her horses.
I boldly took the brush and did as she instructed.
When I finished, she handed me a large-toothed comb. “For his mane.”
After we finished with Sugar, we headed over to Snickers, and then Chocolate. A pattern stood out here. Kayla liked sweets.
“Your dad allowed you to name all the horses, didn’t he?” I blurted out before thinking.
Kayla’s eyes filled.
“Oh, God! I’m so sorry, Kayla. I didn’t think!” I struggled to get out the words as I walked toward her. “I like the names. They’re cute. They’re all sweet names. I’m — Oh, God! I’m an idiot!” I grabbed her up into my arms. “Please forgive me! I’m so sorry!”
She whimpered out an, “S’Okay. He did allow me. He never said they were silly names. I was young, and he allowed me anything I wanted.” Her words broke as the weeping took over again. “He gave me everything. I loved him so much.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“S’Okay. It would’ve happened soon enough.” She gasped for air. “We need to finish. We just need to let them out in the pasture and give them food and water, and then I’ll come back later and lock them in. I don’t like them out all night.”
She shrugged out from under my hold, and I let her go.
After we finished, Kayla started toward the house. I followed silently by her side. When we stepped onto the porch, I turned her to look at me.
“We don’t need to do this now. Why don’t we go back home?”
“I just want to see something, Jesse. Before anyone else arrives.”
I followed her upstairs to her father’s room. She stepped inside, absorbing the scene. The bed was unmade, as though he’d just rolled out of it. Kayla walked into the bathroom and opened the cabinet. Normal toiletries: toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, aftershave, Band-Aids, other unrecognizable bottles, and then one prescription bottle. Kayla picked it up, cocked her head, and stared at the label. I read the label over her shoulder, noticing the date on the prescription was just two days ago.
“Can I see that?” I asked. She handed the bottle over wordlessly. After spilling out the contents on the counter, I counted the pills. There were twenty-eight, so it hadn’t been an overdose. I sighed with relief.
“What are they?” she asked softly.
“Sleeping pills. Your father suffered with insomnia, right?”
“Yes, but I never saw him take pills for it.”
“Did he drink?”
“Never. He said he couldn’t very well ask me not to drink if he did. Why?”
Good point, and again I felt sorry that I wouldn’t get to know John personally. I would’ve learned a lot from him.
“Just something I read. Did he always leave his bed unmade?”
“Never,” she admitted. I saw the lights go on in her eyes. “So he went to bed and then got up and went for a drive?”
“After taking a sleeping pill, according to the date it was filled and the fact that there are two missing.”
“Oh, God, Jesse, he was impaired!”
Or sleeping, I thought, but didn’t say it aloud. I’d have to google it later.
“If I’d only known … maybe I could have —”
“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Kayla.” I picked up the bottle and took it with me, leading her down the stairs. She latched onto me willingly this time. “Let’s go home.”
She allowed me to escort her downstairs. I was grateful, since I’d worried she might want to stay around and wait for something — anything — just to be here, but I knew it would be better to get her away from all the memories.
We drove home quietly; I pulled her next to me this time when we got in the truck. She moved easily to my side.
She didn’t want to eat, but I made enough food for both of us anyway. Something simple, scrambled eggs with toast and orange juice, and then I made a pot of coffee. She wasn’t a big coffee drinker, but I had a tremendous headache and the caffeine would help.
After breakfast, she wanted to go back to bed, so I went with her, but got up once she was deeply asleep. I walked outside and called the hospital, attempting to track down anyone who would know what I was supposed to do next.
The most I could ascertain was that the hospital would already have notified the police, who would notify the medical examiner’s office, who would then contact the funeral home when they were ready to release the body. I left a message, hopefully with the correct person, identifying myself as John’s son-in-law, requesting they notify me with any questions or information and the location of a funeral home.
Next, I called Gram. She picked up on the first ring, as though she’d been waiting for my call. Knowing how she cared about others, she probably had been.
“Hi, Gram,” I started, but had to stop to take a breath.
“You don’t have to say the words, Jesse. I already called the hospital. How’s Kayla?” she asked.
“She’s — she’s in pain,” I said, not knowing what else to say. “Would you call the rest of the family and let them know, please?”
“Of course, Jess. Don’t forget to take care of yourself too, young man. You’re doing a wonderful job for Kayla, but I don’t want you getting sick.”
I felt like telling her not to commend me … that I was only doing my best to help Kayla and that I felt like I was in some nightmare where I couldn’t wake up. It all felt surreal, but instead I said, “Thanks. I will.”
I called my father next. My dad gave me his condolences, but then started discussing business and his new employee, Brock, and how he thought he was going to do a great job. I wanted to throw my phone across the lawn. My father obviously had no idea how much John had meant to me — or Kayla, for that matter. I listened politely for as long as humanly possible, then hung up after explaining that I had to get back to my wife.
When I walked back inside, Kayla sat curled up in a ball on the sofa in the small living area. Without a word, I sat beside her and wrapped my arms around her.
She seemed to be catching her breath from another bout of crying, and I berated myself for staying on the phone so long with my father. She gasped for air a few times, and then her breaths seemed to normalize.
Her eyes slipped to her hands twisting in her lap. “It scares me when I wake up and you’re not there.”
“Then I’ll make sure I’m here. I won’t leave again,” I promised.
She sucked in another ragged breath, and I felt her melt into my arms. I slid down the length of the couch and pulled her in front of me. I wrapped my arms around her, and she layered her arm over mine, lacing her fingers through my fingers. It felt good. I needed comforting too. I’d held her these terrible two days, but she’d not really touched me. She held on, but she hadn’t embraced me, and I realized now how much I needed to feel her. I was scared, too. I wasn’t sure if I could handle this. I was trying to do everything right, but now I was feeling all the inadequacies of my immaturity.
“I love you, Jesse. I’m sorry that you have to deal with this. This certainly isn’t how I envisioned our reunion.” She started crying again, but this time she wasn’t crying for her father; she was crying for us. “I was so happy when you called. You would’ve been here last night and we w
ould’ve made love, and then again this morning. We’d be having fun outside, and then I was going to make you a great dinner —”
I rolled her over so I could look in her eyes. “I love you too, baby, and everything will be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it now. And I don’t expect you to be okay, but …” I hesitated; I didn’t want to hurt her, and I wasn’t sure if this was one of those stupid things to say, even if it was the truth, but I continued anyway, “Your father wouldn’t want you to suffer. Above all, he cared about your happiness. That first day when I met him, he asked me if he did the right thing by turning around, then went on to warn me that he wouldn’t be too happy if he ever saw his baby girl like he saw you that morning.” I could see the pain in her eyes, but I continued, “If it weren’t for your father, I wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be together, and even if we would have been, he was the one who made it happen sooner. If it hadn’t been for him, I’d have stuck with my original nonsensical proposal of June, and then again, even December. All he ever cared about was what would make you happy, even when we rode around discussing business. His primary concern was that I take care of you, first and foremost. I promised I would, and I intend to keep that promise.”
She pulled in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second, trying not to cry, it seemed. I drew her to my chest. The dampness of her tears worked their way through my shirt again; it was the third time I’d changed today, but it didn’t matter. She needed to cry until she got it all out.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Are there any blankets other than the one on our bed?”
She nodded. “I grabbed a few old ones I had in case it got really cold and we needed to layer.”
“How ’bout we go out in the sun? It’s a clear and sunny day, and I think it’d be good for us. We can just lay the blanket out in the backyard.”
Love Like Crazy (Crazy Love Book 1) Page 21
