Afraid to Hope (Secrets & Seduction)

by MJ Nightingale

  Lou laughed. “Bro code, huh?”

  “Something like that. In the military, it might be a little something more.” Monica returned the laugh. It was the first break in what had turned out to be a very revealing evening. Their laughter had lightened the mood. But, she had some answers now. Never thought it would be from this source, but answers none the less.

  “I’m still starving,” Monica added. They laughed again, and Louisa filled up Monica’s bowl a second time. Lou only managed to eat a few bites, but her mind was shifting, sorting, trying to piece together everything, to make some sense of it all.

  After swallowing her bite of chicken, she spoke up with thoughts of her own. “I think I also need to tell Jay about my past as well. Perhaps if he knew where I was coming from, then maybe when he feels an episode of PTSD coming along, maybe being aware of my having been a battered woman might make his reaction different?” she wondered.

  “It might, but I don’t think so,” Monica gave her a sympathetic glance. “All I know is that when the trigger happens, it’s like the person is in a vacuum, all else is gone, like they are being closed off from everything and reliving that moment. Well, you know because your dad had it, right.”

  “Yeah, he did.” Reliving it? “But his was bad only when I was younger, over the years, it has lessened to a great extent. Loud noises triggered it. That is what I don’t get.” Lou set down her fork. She was back to the trigger. How to live with a man with PTSD when you were dealing with your own fears? Was it possible, if she didn’t know the trigger? She had to know.

  “I don’t think it has to be a loud noise, Lou. It might be an image, a word, a slight sound and it can make it rush all back.” Monica popped another piece of chicken into her mouth, chewed slowly. “You know, that is a pretty common misunderstanding of PTSD. I have had students with it. Their triggers may be a noise, if they were in a car accident. Some have it because they were molested, so someone that looks like the perpetrator can trigger it, a phrase even can be a trigger.”

  A phrase? “Oh my goodness, I never thought of that. I just assumed because of my dad it was sounds, cars back firing, airplanes or helicopters flying low, gunshots, that did it for him.” Maybe it had been something she had said. She was talking about her daughter?

  “See, so maybe it is PTSD. Jay could have been telling the truth.” Monica was searching Lou for any dawning of understanding. “He really does not seem like a guy that beats women, Lou. I know you can’t tell that just by being around him, but he is so friendly, so easy going. He isn’t like Robert at all. He never wanted you to hang out with your friends unless he was there. So controlling. He always insulted you.”

  “I know, I was there remember,” Lou said sarcastically.

  “Sorry,” Monica said sheepishly setting down her fork. Lou was surprised to see she had eaten it all again, while she had only picked at her salad.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just that in the beginning, Robert wasn’t like that.”

  “True,” Monica agreed. She reached for the wine bottle and poured herself another glass. She tipped the bottle towards Lou and Lou nodded. Monica filled hers as well.

  “So, sweetie, what are you going to do?” Monica asked.

  “I think we need to talk. I’m going to talk to him.” Lou had made up her mind. She had enough answers now to know that it most likely was PTSD. She owed it to him, to herself to listen.

  “Yes, you do. Do you need someone to be there? I could stay one more night in town,” Monica offered.

  “No that is okay, you go.” Knowing Monica was going to Tampa to be with Victor until Christmas Eve, she didn’t want to keep her from being with this wonderful man who had dug deep to give her these answers. Answers she hadn’t been able to figure out, answers Jay hadn’t been able to give, or his father. Answers she needed to have.

  Lou felt better, like a weight had lifted despite the stomach turning stories she had heard tonight. She had a course of action now, and she missed Jay, she realized. She wanted to see him, hear him, and give him that chance. She didn’t want to lose all hope. She had just gotten a bit of it back.

  The next morning Lou woke early. She gave Missy a nice long walk, and filled her bowls before heading into work. She wanted to catch Dr. Fairbanks alone before anyone else arrived and she was glad he was always the first one to arrive in the office in the morning. She and Bella arrived usually close to each other at eight thirty, but she wanted some time alone with Dr. Fairbanks. She had a few questions.

  When she opened the office door, the immediate aroma of coffee hit her. Oh crap, Bella was in. But she didn’t hear her tell-tale movements of keyboard tapping, printer running, so she called out, “Bella?”

  “Hey!” She heard Dr. Fairbanks’ voice from the back room. “Bella’s not in, Lou. You’re early,” he remarked popping his head out the door. He looked tired.

  “I smelled coffee, so assumed she came in early as well,” Lou smiled.

  “No, I made it. I’m getting better,” he teased. “I had a long night though.” He looked away trying not to meet her eyes, avoiding them.

  “What’s the matter?” Lou asked suddenly fearful. She began to approach the doctor. Had something happened with Jay?

  “I don’t want to burden or pressure you,” he rubbed his face. She knew that sign.

  “No, it’s okay,” she reassured him.

  He looked at her, and noticed a change in her. “You sure?” he questioned.

  “Yes, I actually came in early to talk to you. I was going to ask to see Jay, for you to pass along the message.”

  “Oh, thank god!” He reached over to hug her, grasping and squeezing her closely. He pulled back quickly and she saw the relief in his eyes.

  “Yes,” she laughed feeling a bit awkward, but happy to see that whatever had been bothering him, that her announcement seemed to have brightened his mood.

  “Jay will be thrilled!” Then he sighed. She gave him a puzzled look, and so he continued. “Jay had another episode last night of PTSD,” he stressed. “It was a long night. It’s why I made the coffee. I really do think I am getting better,” he smiled. “Want some?” When Lou laughed nervously at his lame attempt at a joke and nodded as he began to approach the coffee pot and poured her some.

  “An episode?” she asked to get him talking again.

  He nodded. “Yeah, that is why I seem so tired. He asks about you every night. But I haven’t wanted to put on pressure. I told Jay he needed to give you some time. Give you space, that you had your own issues to deal with.”

  “I know,” Lou muttered accepting the cup of coffee. “I need to talk to him about that as well.”

  Dr. Fairbanks nodded sympathetically. “He asked me what issues. Of course, I did not reveal anything about your part of the conversation. I am a big believer in communication. And feel two people in a relationship need to communicate with one another. So many misunderstandings could be avoided if people just communicated. But alas, I am straying. Of course he questioned me, and became agitated. He had the right to know, he said. You were his girl, and he wanted to know what was going on with you. He didn’t like my answer of give her more time, so, anyhow, he was threatening to drive over, and go see you. I told him absolutely not, and he went into a rage about who the hell do you think you are, my father?”

  “I’m sorry,” Lou knew that must have hurt the man deeply.

  “Well it upset me. But hell, I wasn’t his dad for the really important years, and he has been through so much, so I tried not to let it bother me.”

  She heard the pain in Dr. Fairbanks’ voice. She offered the only condolence she could think of. “But you’re here now!”

  “Yeah, I’m here now,” he said sadly.

  Lou could see the man was taking his son’s dilemma hard. She needed to prod him, and get him to answer the questions she had. She hated doing it right then, but maybe this could be the path to recovery for them all. “So what happened?” L
ou asked. “This recent episode and the rage you mentioned?”

  The doctor shook his head to clear it and looked back at Lou, seeing what she was attempting to do. He gave her a smile. “Okay, Lou. I’ll tell you. As much as I can, anyway.” He paused for a breath and to compose his thoughts. “So, after our argument, he went to the boat, he sleeps there, likes it quiet, dark, anyhow. Sometime in the middle of the night there was this loud noise. I looked out my bedroom window and could see that my neighbor’s kid had apparently come home pretty late and he had crashed the car into the garage door. It woke Jay, and he had an episode of PTSD. He started freaking out. He was screaming, and began rushing towards the noise. He was walking around the car, the boy was still inside and he yanked him out as if he were in serious danger and terrified the kid before I could get there. I rushed out of the house, explained to the father and son the situation and then I hit Jay with a tranquilizer. I keep some at home when Jay is over. He hasn’t had an episode in over a year, no, two now,” he corrected.

  This story surprised Lou, and puzzled her as well. She asked the doctor about it. “The sound triggered it this time? Strange. But, that is why I came, doctor. I do want to talk to Jay, I have a friend who was in Iraq and he told me about some of the things Jay had probably seen. Horrible stuff. I want Jay to tell me what his triggers are, so I can avoid them, and . . . so we could maybe start over.” Her voice trailed off. This was the first time she had voiced her hopes aloud. She hoped it wasn’t another mistake. But she really felt Jay was worth the gamble, especially after hearing what Monica had told her last night.

  “Really?” the doctor’s voice was hopeful. And then, “That would be great.” He paused and then had a question of his own for her. “About the war, Jay hasn’t told me much, either. I’d love if you would share with me.”

  “You don’t know what he saw?” Lou’s head twisted to the side. “But, but his PTSD. You said you knew what caused it.” She had assumed it was the war, or al the least the reconstruction time period.

  “I do, and the war, of course, is part of it. And Jay has mentioned things about it, of course. But he speaks in general terms. I’d love it if you would share. I too, like you, want to know my son better.”

  “I’ll share, but my questions first, please,” she requested. She wasn’t letting him off until she had some of her questions answered first.

  “Okay. If I can,” he agreed and held out his hand for her to come sit in his office. She followed him in and resumed her position from days ago, sitting on the paisley wing back, while he took the sofa.

  “Well,” she began, “My friend revealed to me, or well made me realize, that PTSD has many triggers.”

  Dr. Fairbanks sat back, and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “Lou, I told you I couldn’t tell you what triggered his episode with you. You need to ask Jay about that.”

  “I know and I plan on it. I am not asking you about the trigger. I want your professional opinion here. I wanted you to confirm that it is true, that PTSD has many triggers, not just sound? Is that true?” When he looked at her curiously and didn’t answer right away, she became impatient. “You are a psychologist. You can answer the question in generalized terms.”

  He nodded. “Touché. In that case, yes, many things can trigger a PTSD rage episode. It’s not just sound; it can be sight, smells, a touch even. Smells are the most common if you can believe it.

  Smells she thought. She hadn’t thought of that. Something to think about. “I have one more question. You did say Jay’s PTSD was not caused by the war. Are you sure about that, doctor? Because from what my friend told me about what Jay saw, it definitely could have caused it.”

  “No, dear, you misunderstood. Jay has PTSD, and many events in his life have led to it developing in him, and the war is most assuredly a part of it. But it is caused by the wearing down of the mind, the combination of terror, stress, and trauma that finally erodes the psyche to the point where you snap or have an episode like Jay exhibits. It is true that a single event can trigger it, but it most likely happens to people whose minds are already beaten down by other events.”

  “I still don’t think I understand.”

  Dr. Fairbanks nodded and then, like a teacher teaching a pupil, he tried a different approach. “It’s like this. A person, no matter how strong, can only handle so much. Some people can handle more than others. Others may develop signs of PTSD after one horrific event or trauma. Others, like Jay, for instance, have experienced repeated horrific events in his life. His mom was a drug addict, he was in and out of foster care.” Jay had mentioned it. “The war, and then after the war he had events that occurred and it was the last trauma to happen to him that brought it on.”

  “Like a snowball effect?” Lou stated, dawning having finally arrived.

  “Yes, exactly!” He nodded, “The mind can only take so much.”

  “So,” she clarified, “this final event, the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back, this event and reminders of it, that’s what brings on the episodes?”

  “Yes, exactly.” Dr. Fairbanks looked pleased like he wanted to hug her again.

  “So he needs to tell me about that single event and then I’ll know what possible triggers there may be?”

  “Yes! Lou, exactly. He needs to tell you. It will help him heal. If he can come to terms with that event, then you may not even need to worry about triggers.”

  Again, she was puzzled. Her look had given her away and he was explaining again.

  “Lou, it’s like someone who has been raped.” Lou stiffened up. Her friend Monica had been raped when she was seventeen. “They feel guilt. Like they are to blame.” True, she thought, Monica had felt that way. “Well, it is only by talking about it, explaining it to others, reaching out, and having people repeatedly tell you, convince you, that it is not their fault, that you actually realize it is not your fault. Jay has to talk about this event. He has to do it. If I tell, he loses the chance to tell you. He doesn’t get to see it through your eyes.” Understanding? He needs my understanding!

  Lou knew what he said to be true. Monica had hidden away and become a recluse.

  It was not until she talked about it, had people to understand and help her, support her, tell her it was not her fault that she learned that it wasn’t her fault. That’s why there were so many groups out there for soldiers. When they came home they were heroes, they had saved America, and protected their loved ones, but they also had to kill to do so. They had to deal with guilt.

  Now she understood. Jay’s dad wanted him to extend his circle of trust by confiding in her. Talk about it to help him heal. He saw himself as a monster, and needed to know she didn’t see it that way. Her reaction was critical to his self-worth. My God, how she had reacted had only fed into that. She had reacted in fear because of her own past. She needed to explain that to Jay too.

  “Can you call Jay and set something up for tonight?” She didn’t want to put this off any longer.

  “Absolutely,” he beamed. “Would you like me to be there?”

  Lou hesitated for just a fraction of a second. “No, that is okay. I am not afraid. Not anymore,” And she wasn’t.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, questioning one more time wanting to be positive.

  “I am sure, Dr. Fairbanks. I have things I have to tell him too, in order to heal. If we are both honest, I think we can get past this, and we might just have a shot!” She smiled up at him. She really believed that now.

  Louisa paced across her kitchen and into her living room as she awaited Jay’s arrival. Dr. Fairbanks had called Jay to let him know that she had agreed to talk about the situation. Jay had called her on her cellphone during her lunch break, and she hand answered the phone despite her initial trepidation.

  The phone call had been brief, with him apologizing and promising to explain and apologizing again. He had thanked her profusely for giving him this chance. Lou had held up her end of the conversation haltingly, the lump in the
back of her throat had kept her from saying all that she wanted to.

  She had agreed to meet with him at about six o’clock. He said he would come by her place and that his dad would be across the canal at his place just in case she felt the need for an intermediary. Lou felt a bit foolish, with the added precautions, and Jay too, sounded like he was grudgingly repeating his father’s words. She had told him it wasn’t necessary, that he didn’t have to, but understood that they both just wanted her to feel safe. Then Jay had informed her that his dad was going to help him pack while he was there, as the Robinsons were returning after Christmas, as they normally did, for two months and he needed to vacate the cabin anyhow.

  That had taken her aback at first. She had completely forgotten about his living situation. It was good to hear his voice though, but he had sounded a bit detached. So as the time got nearer, she began to become more and more nervous and began to wonder what she wanted and hoped for to come of this visit. Did she want to get back together, did she want to take it slow, resume where they left off? Or did she want to get to know one another better and not rush headlong into the wild abandon they had partaken in these past six weeks?

  Missy broke her reverie and indicated she wanted to go out the backdoor, and Lou peered at the window across the canal. It was nearly dark. She saw no sign of Jay or his father across the canal. She flicked on the lights to brighten the back yard, and let Missy out, stepping out onto her deck, crossing her arms across her chest to warm herself. There was a sudden chill in the air. The first cold snap would be on them for Christmas, it seemed.

  As Louisa waited patiently for Missy to finish her business, she saw one lone light pull into Jay’s driveway across the water, and her heart lurched. Then she saw two headlights right behind it. Jay’s father’s suburban. A lump formed at the thought of Jay moving. What would tonight bring? What would he tell her?