Fix Me

by Lexy Timms

  “No, she wasn’t, but thank you for being nice.”

  I sighed. “You’re welcome.”

  “Do you want some coffee?” he asked.

  I bit my lower lip. “Actually, I was just coming in on the hunt for some chamomile tea.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I didn’t sleep well, and I was hoping to try and sleep a couple hours.”

  I heard, more like felt him come towards me. His hand touched my face. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yes, I just couldn’t sleep. It isn’t that abnormal for me. I’ve dealt with insomnia most of my life.”

  “Do you take anything for it?” he asked, and I could hear the concern in his voice.

  I blew out a breath. “I have before but I don’t think I’m there yet. I don’t like taking the meds. I have horrible nightmares and feel like shit in general.”

  “Okay, let’s start with tea. Is there anything else I can do to help you sleep?”

  He was such a sensitive man. “No, I’ll be okay.”

  “Alright, let me get your tea going.”

  He stepped away from me. I immediately felt the void. I listened to him filling the pot. “How come your mom went home so soon?”

  He didn’t immediately answer. “My mom and I have a strained relationship. Her visit was a surprise and not a welcome one. I know that sounds bad, but things are kind of, I don’t know, weird. Unconventional. Not traditional.”

  I nodded. “I understand.”

  “Anyway, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about those surprise visits anymore.”

  “She wasn’t bad,” I quickly said. “I did enjoy talking to her. I just got the feeling she didn’t really care for me.”

  “She doesn’t care for anyone.”

  “Does she know about us?” I asked him.

  “I haven’t told her, but Lisa probably did. I don’t talk to my mother about things like that.”

  I slowly nodded. It was a problem I didn’t have the energy to solve. If and when Luke and I declared we were an item, I would deal with Charlene. I would charm her and show her I was the best woman for her son. The moment I had the thought, I questioned it. What if I was permanently blind? How could I convince Charlene I was worthy of her son when I was technically considered disabled? He would be forced to take care of me. I would be a burden.

  “You know,” I started. “I think I’ll just go to bed.”

  “You don’t want your tea?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m just going to lay down.”

  “Would you like me to sit with you?”

  I was going to say no and then changed my mind. “I would like that.”

  “I’ll bring the tea, just in case you change your mind.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you want me to get the meds? I’m assuming you’re taking Ambien?”

  I smiled, forgetting he was an actual nurse with actual medical knowledge. “Yes. I don’t like it though. I really don’t.”

  “I’ve had other patients tell me the same thing. We’ll try it the old-fashioned way first.”

  I nodded, already knowing it wouldn’t work, but I was damn well going to try. I knew how this little ride ended. I would be stuck in a horrible limbo of not sleeping for days. I would feel drained and cranky and then sad. I wouldn’t want to eat, and it would just turn very ugly.

  “Works for me.”

  A minute later, his hand was on my elbow, guiding me back to my room. I was glad I didn’t have to be anywhere. I was glad I couldn’t see the sunlight pouring through the bank of windows facing the backyard. I was glad I could stay in my sweats and crawl into bed for the day.

  “Do you want a sip or two of tea before you get back into bed?”

  “Sure, since you made it and all.”

  He laughed, taking my hand and placing my hand on it. I took a tentative sip and sighed with delight.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Very good.”

  I took a few more drinks before handing him the cup. He helped me into bed, pulling the blanket over me. It reminded me of being tucked in when I was a little girl. I hoped the feeling of contentment would help lull me to sleep.

  “I could rub your shoulders, brush your hair, sing,” he teased.

  “You just being close is enough,” I told him.

  “Alright. I’ll be quiet as a mouse. Close your eyes.”

  I did what he said.

  “Slow your breathing,” he instructed. “In through your nose and slowly release it through your pursed lips. Think about your toes. Are you thinking about your toes?”

  I giggled. “I am now.”

  “Good. Relax your toes. Imagine you are sliding into a hot bath. Flex every muscle and then relax it. Calves. Thighs. Fingers. Arms. Neck. Face.” His voice grew quieter with each word.

  I could feel my body sinking into the imaginary bath. My muscles relaxed slowly one by one. I could hear his quiet breathing behind me. It was oddly soothing. I focused on his breathing until I felt myself slipping into the peaceful oblivion I craved.

  The peacefulness was short lived.

  “Luke can’t we go to the museum?” I said with frustration.

  His back was to me and it was making me crazy. He promised a trip to the art museum and now he wanted to go golfing. Golfing! Who golfed!

  “Just one trip around the course,” he answered, still not looking at me.

  I stomped a foot. “Fine. One trip and then we go to the museum. That new artist I told you about is being featured. It’s a big deal.”

  He finally turned to look at me. I bit back a yelp. It wasn’t Luke. It was Nate. I shook my head, trying to see Luke. He took my hand in his and I knew it was Luke, but it was Nate’s face. Nate’s face on Luke’s body.

  “Let’s go,” he said, leading me across a parking lot. He pushed the button the key fob, the sound echoing in my head.

  “You’ll like the artist,” I started to tell him.

  He opened the car door. My car. “We’ll see. Get in.”

  I shook my head, fighting back panic. “No. No. I can’t.”

  “Bree get in the car,” he growled.

  “I can’t. No.”

  “Bree, get in the car. We’re late.”

  I stared at my car. I loved my car. The car that I had almost died in. I couldn’t get in the car. I had a sense of doom. I began to violently shake. There was a scream locked in my throat. Terror tore through me. “No,” I tried to say, but the words were stuck in my throat.

  “Bree, it’s okay,” I heard Luke say.

  I turned to look into Nate’s eyes. “No,” I tried to say again.

  “Bree.”

  “No!” I screamed, finally finding my voice.

  I was suddenly awake. The car was gone. I was awake and back in my dark prison. My heart was pounding in my chest. I nearly jumped off the bed when I felt a hand on my arm. “Bree, it’s me. It’s Luke. You’re okay.”

  I struggled to catch my breath. “I’m okay,” I whispered.

  “You were having a nightmare,” he soothed.

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “Not even an hour. Do you want to talk about the dream?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “They say if you talk about a recurring nightmare, it won’t come back.”

  I wasn’t going to tell him I was dreaming about him. Especially since it wasn’t him, but Nate I saw. I was sure I saw Nate because I couldn’t see Luke. I had no idea what Luke looked like. “It was silly. It made no sense.”

  “Dreams rarely do.”

  “It was my car,” I blurted out. “I was getting into my old car. I didn’t want to get in. It was like I knew what was going to happen. Is it weird I have sight in my dreams?”

  “I don’t think it’s weird at all. You had sight your entire life.”

  “I guess.”

  “Do you feel any better after getting some sleep?” he asked.

  “No. Not really, but I
don’t want to try to sleep again. I need to walk around. I need to shake off the gross feeling of the nightmare.”

  “That should help. We’ll get you outside, get some sun and maybe you’ll be able to take a nap out there.”

  “I hope so. I hate these rounds of insomnia.”

  “How long do they usually last?”

  I took a deep breath. “Sometimes a few days, sometimes weeks.”

  “Okay, let’s take this one day at a time. It was one bad night. We’ll go for a short walk. Today we relax. Yesterday taxed you. I’m sorry about that.”

  “No, it wasn’t that. It’s just part of who I am. I got insomnia before the accident and I’m sure I’ll have it years down the road.”

  His arm went around me as he pulled me against him. “I’ll be there to work through it with you.”

  I smiled up at him, already feeling better about it all. Like he said, it was just one bad night.

  Chapter Twenty

  Luke

  SHE WAS STILL STRUGGLING and I didn’t know how to help her. Three nights with no sleep. Last night, I had slept in the main house. She told me I didn’t have to, but I insisted. I had paced with her. I had talked with her. I had shared tea with her. We had listened to music, listened to a book and nothing worked.

  She had broken down in tears, the frustration overwhelming her. I didn’t know what else to do but hold her and rock her and try to lull her into sleep. It only served to put me to sleep. I woke up with her trying to untangle herself from my arms.

  She was run down and looked like hell. I knew she felt like hell and I wanted to help her; I just didn’t know how. She had tried the sleeping meds and they didn’t help. She said it just made her feel even worse. I offered to call her father, but she adamantly refused. She forbade me from telling him about her struggles.

  “I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” I told her.

  “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. Trust me. I don’t have the energy.”

  “Maybe we could try to put you in a sugar coma. I’ll load you down with cookies and soda and every other sugary snack I can get my hands on. You’ll crash and hopefully, crash for hours.”

  She offered a wane smile. “That’s sweet, but I’m not sure I want to eat a million calories for the chance to sleep for an hour. Not to developing diabetes.”

  I laughed. “Okay. I’m going to go shower and I’ll think of something else.”

  “You don’t have to rush back. Take a nap.”

  “I’m good. If I’m going to nap, it will be with you.”

  She smiled again, the dark circles under her eyes becoming more prominent by the day. I didn’t know how to help her. I walked out of the room and headed for the cottage. I hoped she would fall asleep while I was gone.

  I got home, stripping off my clothes as I walked towards the shower. I was so fucking tired, but it had only been one night for me and I was dragging ass. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through. I worried for her physical health.

  Climbing in, I turned the spray to lukewarm. I needed to wake up. I dressed for the day which was going to be doing a whole lot of nothing. I wasn’t interested in moving mountains, going to the beach or anything else that required me to expend energy.

  When I got back to the main house, very quietly I opened Bree’s door. She appeared to be sleeping. I breathed a sigh of relief and quietly tiptoed back towards the kitchen. I started myself some coffee before taking a seat on the stool and pulling up the contact list on my phone. She said I couldn’t call Paul, but she said nothing about Mel.

  I needed some background information and I was going to help her. I felt like I was too close to the situation. This was why there had to be a professional distance between patient and caregiver. If it came down to it, I would insist she take the sleeping meds.

  “Hello?” Mel answered her phone with obvious confusion.

  “Mel, it’s Luke, Bree’s uh,” I paused.

  She laughed. “I know who you are. What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk.”

  “Is Bree okay?” she asked with concern.

  “Yes. No. I mean, yes, physically she is, but something’s wrong.”

  She blew out a breath. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  “Be super quiet coming in. I’ll leave the gate open and please don’t ring the bell.”

  She groaned. “She’s not sleeping,” she said.

  “No, she’s not and I don’t know how to help her.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  I felt like help was on the way. Bree didn’t talk a lot about her past. I knew her, but I only knew her on a surface level. I didn’t want to pry, but I had a lot of questions about Nate. I wanted to better understand the relationship because I got the feeling it wasn’t all that healthy.

  Making myself some toast, I sipped my second cup of coffee. While I waited for Mel, I did a grocery order, adding Bree’s favorite foods. Alcohol was going to be my next suggestion. It wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t nurse-like, but it was a friend move. I would ply her with alcohol until she passed out.

  I heard the front door open and jumped off the stool to meet her. Mel was carrying her heels in her hand as she tiptoed towards me. Clearly, she understood the situation. I jerked my head towards the sliding glass doors, indicating I wanted to go outside.

  “Thank you for coming,” I said once the doors were closed.

  “Of course. How bad is it?”

  “She hasn’t slept since Tuesday.”

  She winced. “She was in such good spirits on Monday.”

  “And Tuesday she was great all day, too. I’m afraid it’s my fault.”

  “Why is it your fault?”

  I closed my eyes. “My mom showed up unexpectedly. The three of us hung out on Tuesday. My mom is a handful. She was polite to Bree, but she also doesn’t think Bree and I should be together.”

  “Fuck her,” Mel snapped.

  I shouldn’t be surprised. I wasn’t offended. “My mom doesn’t know her. She saw the mansion and just made a lot of assumptions.”

  She shook her head. “Fine. It doesn’t matter. Tell me about Bree.”

  “I was hoping you could tell me what to do for her. She said she’s battled insomnia for a while.”

  “Since her mother died. It can get very bad.”

  “What do I do?” I asked feeling desperate. “We’ve tried everything.”

  She sighed, looking at me with pity in her eyes. “This is on her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bree has always internalized everything. She gets an idea in her mind and it blossoms and grows faster than a cancer. It occupies space in her head and it overpowers her ability to be rational. She gets this way and it’s impossible to talk to her. She goes down a rabbit hole and no one can pull her out... except Bree herself. Her father sent her to shrink after shrink after shrink.”

  “What about the sleeping meds?” I asked.

  “She says they don’t work. I know when I take an Ambien, I’m down for the count. Most people are, but not Bree. She is a stubborn woman. I think she could fight against anesthesia if she wanted to. When she gets her mind onto something, there is no changing it.”

  I nodded, taking it in. “Stress. She’s stressed out.”

  “Obviously. That’s what keeps us all up, right? Bree just handles it a little differently. While some people can process it and just kind of move through it, she holds onto it with that iron grip of hers. She can’t let go. She won’t let go. It’s almost like she likes it. I know she doesn’t, but she can really wallow.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. It reminded me of something my mother would do. “And how do you help her through it?”

  She sighed. “Honestly, I don’t. Not anymore. All I can do is be there for her. She has to find her own way out of this.”

  “Does it get bad, worse, I should say?”

  “I think the longest she has gone is
maybe three weeks. That was a couple years ago. She stopped showering and was literally a zombie.”

  “What changed? How did she overcome it?”

  She looked at me and smiled. “Art. She painted. She painted all night and all day and then one day, she called me and said she was going to sleep and would call me in a couple days.”

  My eyes widened. “That’s it. Just like that.”

  She laughed. “Yep. Have you ever seen Forrest Gump?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know where he says he’s going for a run or something like that.”

  I nodded. “I do.”

  “It’s kind of like that. When she gets through it, she’s over it.”

  “But now she doesn’t have art because she can’t see,” I whispered.

  “Exactly. This time is different. Have you spoken to her about the surgery?”

  “No!” I quickly answered. “Definitely not. She does not want to be bothered about that. That’s the last thing she needs to think about.”

  “What if that’s what she is thinking about?” she countered.

  I rubbed a hand over my face. My eyes felt gritty. I didn’t bother shaving yesterday or today and I was feeling a little scraggly. “So, basically I need to ride it out.”

  “Yes,” she answered. “I’ll take shifts with you. We need to make sure she eats and showers and sleeps when her body can’t take anymore.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m technically being paid to watch over her.”

  “Ah, but this is a twenty-four-hour job and judging by the way you look, you’ve been on duty for a couple days.”

  “I hate seeing her suffer,” I said.

  “I know. So, do I. We’ll get her through this.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I have a thing I have to be at this afternoon, but I can stay with her tonight if you want to get some sleep.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be okay.”

  “I know you’re not going to leave her side, so I’m going to force you to do it. I’ll be here first thing in the morning tomorrow. You’ll be off and I won’t hear any arguments about it.”

  “I appreciate it. I would like to be cavalier and say I don’t need your help, but I know I will. If this goes on another day, I’m going to be dead on my feet tomorrow. Assuming I can even get to my feet.”