by M. R. Joseph
"This can't go on and you know it. Look at you. You are way too thin, you have so much baggage under your eyes that Tony and I can pack them and fly off to Europe. You drink way too much, and if you don't stop, you are going to lose your job, lose your apartment, and the next thing will be you not pursuing your degree."
She's right on all points, but I still argue with her.
"You know what, Bella? I don't need to hear about all the things I’m doing wrong right now. I have enough shit to worry about." Bella slams down her hand on the table.
"You're damn right you have a lot to worry about. Like all the things I just mentioned. And another thing, why come here looking like that if you didn't want to hear any bullshit? Look, Raph, I know it must be so hard for you losing Harlow the way you did, but we feel like we are losing you. Don't you think I have my spies out there in Sandy Cove reporting back to me about what you're up to? I know you get shit faced after every shift, I know you tried to see Harlow when she was there last week, I know you saw her. And don't even ask how I know all this ’cause I'll never reveal my mole."
I could probably name a few who would have the balls to report my antics to Bella, but I'll let it go. I know they mean well. Matteo strokes my face as he drinks his bottle and I smile down at him.
"Raph, yes, you once had something great. You finally found out what love was like and what it means, and you lost it, and I’m so very sorry for that, but did you ever stop to think about Harlow? My God, the girl is a walking miracle who woke up after six weeks in a coma to find a man she really didn't think all that much of kissing her and hugging her and telling her he loved her. Can you even imagine how scared she must have been?"
I hand Matteo back to her, and pace around the kitchen.
I’m not going to cry like a pussy, damn it.
"Yea, I think about it every day. Every waking minute of every day, Bella. But just when I discovered who I really was and what I really felt, it was too late. I fucked it up. I fucked us up. She was in that coma ’cause of me. I let her walk away. I didn't run after her. So do you know what it's like for me? To have to carry around that guilt everywhere I go. I pass by the accident site almost every day and I dream about how things could have gone differently. I wish I would've scooped her up and thrown her over my shoulder like a caveman. I would have shoved her in my patrol car and not let her out until I told her everything. But I didn't and this feeling I can't get rid of, the gnawing in my stomach, will never go away!"
Now, tears. Damn pussy I am. I pull at my hair and spin facing away from Bella because I don't want to cry in front of her. My heart is racing. My skin crawling with perspiration and I itch. I try to swallow but my throat is so dry. Dear God, help me.
"But you didn't and you can't go back and change things. No matter how much you say should have or could have. It. Didn't. Happen."
Bella comes to me and places her hand on my shoulder and turns me around. When she looks at me, she gasps and tears form in her eyes.
"Oh, Raphael. Don't you understand that on that day the only reason you left her was because of your job? You didn't let her go because you were defeated and didn't want to chase after her, you had a job to do."
I did have a job to do. I couldn't have just said fuck it.
"And there was no way in hell you could have known there was going to be an accident. We may never know the truth as to why she got on that boat and what happened once she was on it. She doesn't remember and the bastard won't tell the truth. This was not your fault."
I rest my head on her shoulder and cry. Cry for my loss, cry for the pain Harlow has had to go through. I cry for the death of the love I found without even looking for it.
Bella hugs me with my nephew still in her arms. "But you can't give up hope that one day she will remember what you had. Her mind will wake up and she'll know. You have to have hope, Raphael. You have to hold on to some kind of hope."
I swipe at my face, ridding myself of these ridiculous tears.
"You can do one of two things here, Raph. One, move on. Which I don't really think you'll do. And two, you can fight the biggest fight of your life, bigger than any war you have fought in, do anything and everything in your power to make your way back into her life. You are a fighter and honestly, I'd be disappointed if you didn't fight for her."
With her words, I know I need to sober up, fight for her, be there for her. I need to let her heal but I also need her in my life. It's going to hurt like hell, but like Bella says, I have to hold on to some kind of hope.
CHAPTER 5
I Have a New Found Love For Ice Cream
Harlow~
With the end of September and an Indian summer still upon us, I wish to hell this school had air conditioning. These long skirts I wear to cover my scars are not helping with my perspiration as I teach in this eighty-degree classroom. I bought two fans to help circulate the air, but it doesn't help much, and tonight the school is holding a Back To School Ice Cream Social in our cafeteria.
Great.
Six hundred, pre-adolescent kids, a DJ, an ice-cream sundae bar, and ten teachers who want nothing more to spike the punch just to get through the night. All the “newbies”, as we are called, have to chaperone the dance. Newbies being Willow and I, and whomever else has been here for less than two years. Lucky me. Willow and I each bought a change of clothes for later. I didn't want to go home then have to come back again, plus I have papers to grade. I don't feel like bringing anything home over the weekend. I have physical therapy tomorrow and my parents and I are going to see Greta since she's on bed rest with her pregnancy.
It's only noon but it feels so much later than that. I haven't been sleeping well. Actually, I hardly sleep. I’m restless, my legs ache at night, and I have awful dreams that wake me up when I do sleep. When I wake up, I don't really remember them, but for some reason it has to do with Sandy Cove. That much I can recall.
I dismiss my last class before lunch and grab my crutches, which are a pain in my ass, but I need to get out of this sweatbox and into the air-conditioned teachers’ lounge. I grab my phone and make my way down. The seventh grade hallway is long and with some stragglers still making their way to lunch, I have to be careful I don't get...never mind.
I stumble when one of the students breezes by me, knocking one of my crutches out from under me, and I fall and hit the ground hard. I almost feel as though I bounce up off my rear. I feel two hands from behind me lifting me from my hips and pulling me to a safer spot than in the middle of the hallway. I’m still on the ground, trying to figure out who has me and why I feel shivers go up my spine.
"Jesus, are you okay?" I turn to hear that accent I’m becoming more familiar with.
Daniel.
He crouches down in front of me. I adjust my skirt after realizing it's way above my knees, I mean really above my knees. His hand is on my upper arm and as he searches my eyes to see if I am actually okay, I get a nose full of a scent. Not sweat, or pre-teen body odor but, dear Lord in heaven, Spicy, no wait...woodsy, no wait...clean and fresh. No, no, no. That sounds like an advertisement for fabric softener. Jesus, what's wrong with me?
Shivers. Again.
"I’m…I’m fine, thank you, Daniel. I just have to be more careful."
He looks to his left, then to his right of the empty hallway.
He smiles at me. "It's not you who needs to be more careful, Harlow, it's those mini blokes that run amuck in these hallways."
Just when I think he's going to lift me up again after he rises from his crouched position,
he takes a seat next to me on the floor, against the hallway lockers so we are beside one another.
We remain quiet. I can see him smiling at me out of the corner of my eye. He clutches a brown paper bag in his hand. I turn to look at him, feeling embarrassed, I look away, my head turning sharply when I feel his eyes on me.
I hear him rustling around with his paper bag so I use my peripheral vision to see him open the bag and take out his
sandwich.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
He answers with a mouthful of whatever he's eating, "Having lunch. You want half or did you bring lunch?" He holds out the other half and I shake my head.
"No, thank you. My lunch is downstairs in the teachers’ lounge."
Daniel sticks the sandwich back in the bag and stands up.
"I'll be right back. Don't move, okay?"
"Daniel, wait I have to go get my—" Before I know it, he's gone. Jogging down the hall. My head suddenly hurts. I squeeze the bridge of my nose and rub it. I need help getting off the floor. Where the hell did he run to?
I don't even get the thought out of this simple brain of mine before he's running back toward me as I sit here looking like an idiot. In his hand, my lunch sack.
He takes his seat back next to me and hands me my lunch.
"Here you go." He takes the rest of his sandwich out of the bag and begins to eat it again and all I can do is look at him confused thinking how very strange this must look.
Mid bite, he smiles at me like a little boy. His amber-colored eyes shine under the fluorescent lights and motion for me to eat.
Damn, his eyes are pretty.
I snap out of my gaze quickly and open my bag to take out my sandwich. Reluctantly, I take a bite because I am starving, but I feel sort of, I don't know, nervous maybe?
"There you go. See isn't this much better than listening to all the old-timers in the teachers’ lounge bitch about their students or their awful home lives? This is much more relaxing." I keep my head down. I really don't know what to say to him. I feel a bit awkward but in a different way. I think I’m more ashamed as to why we are in the position we are in than feeling awkward. The man ran down to get me my lunch. We again sit in silence as we munch on our sandwiches.
"You don't talk much, do you, Harlow?"
I look over at him, not really wanting to finish eating. My head pounding the way it does makes me lose my appetite. I shove the rest of my lunch back into the bag.
I shift trying to get my one crutch to help me stand up. Daniel hops up to help me.
"I talk a lot actually. I’m just...I need to get back into my classroom before the bells rings and I’m knocked down again." He grabs my other crutch and my arms and helps me stand. Daniel retrieves my lunch sack from the ground.
"That would never happen", he tells me in a low voice.
"What would never happen?"
Daniel shrugs and leads me back to my classroom, the handles of my lunch sack swinging from his wrist, and I wait for his answer.
"You getting knocked down again. I wouldn't allow it."
Umm...okay.
We walk back to my classroom, slowly. Daniel not moving forward or behind me, just beside me.
I stand at my door way and feel a little ballsy, so I ask him, "And why is it that you wouldn't allow that to happen?"
He walks into my classroom and places my sack on my desk and makes his way back to the doorway I’m standing in. We are close, only about a half a foot apart, he leans his long lean body against the doorway, his hands hooked behind him. His blond hair a bit disheveled and a curl flopping in the front of his forehead.
"Because I feel as though you are precious cargo, Miss Hannum. I wouldn't want to kick the arse of a thirteen-year-old boy for knocking you down again, so just know I have my eye on you." He winks at me and flashes a smile that would make any woman melt. Except for me. I just shiver like it's not almost one hundred degrees in this doorway.
I shiver.
Fucking hell?
We stand, me looking at my feet, him, I’m pretty sure he's staring again.
"So, um are you going to the dance tonight?"
I feel my cheeks heat up and I let out a small giggle.
He rolls his eyes and then covers them, shaking his head.
"I apologize. That's not how I meant to say that. What I was clearly trying to say or not so clearly saying was, have you been selected to chaperone tonight's dance?"
I smile at him, getting a glimpse of his megawatt smile and obvious reddened cheeks.
"Yes, I have. It's sort of required. Um...how about you?"
He rubs his face with both hands and lets out a sigh.
"Yes, I have but I’m so terribly tired. I’ve been up at night a lot lately so sleep hasn't been so welcoming lately."
"I’m sorry to hear that. Sleep is also not my friend."
After I say it, I’m not really sure why I just told him that. He yawns, covering his mouth.
"Oh, good God. I’m so sorry. That was rude of me to yawn in your face. What a pillock. Not a gentlemanly thing to do. I apologize."
I laugh, cause it was - well - cute.
"No need to apologize. I do it all the time." He smiles at me and the bell for the next session starts to ring.
“Well, I’ll be off. The children will return shortly.” I agree and nod. "Yes, you're right." I can't really think of much more to say. It's like my tongue is frozen or something. Since when does that happen to me?
"Yes, well I guess I'll be seeing you this evening. Should be interesting. I better go. See you tonight, Harlow."
Daniel walks out the door and I peer around the archway and watch him walk away. He walks in a way where his body stands constantly at attention, but yet casually. His stagger so dignified, so confident, so frigging hot! I mean, what I mean is it's hot in here. In my classroom. No the fact that he's wearing a nice pair of khaki pants that shows off his muscular...
"See I fucking knew it!" I jump at the sound of Willow's voice behind me.
I clench my hand to my heart and turn to her.
"Are you trying to kill me, Willow? Jesus, you scared the crap out of me."
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Har. In case you didn't know, you almost died a few months ago. God doesn't want your ass, so you are going to be here for a long time, sister."
I hobble back to my desk and Willow is on my tail. Casually, she leans on the chalkboard behind me, picking at her nails. I look at her with that mischievous smile on her face, then back around.
"So, Mrs. McGillicuty in room 204 tells me she saw Miss Hannum and Mr. Mathewson canoodling in the hallway during lunch, and then Mrs. Harper, the troll from the math department, tells me on my way back from lunch, that Mr. Mathewson came running in asking in that sexy-as, fuck-me-sideways accent where Miss Hannum keeps her lunch. She shows him, he grabs it, and runs out the door."
I roll my eyes without her seeing and go about my business. I try to ignore her. Really, I try but I haven't been able to since I was eleven years old.
"Then I find Miss Hannum checking out Mr. Mathewson's tight bum right there in that doorway."
"So?" I answer.
"So? That's what you say to me, my friend? So?" I turn in my chair and look at her. Arms crossed, and she's sweating like a pig in heat, but for the debutant with a mouth like Satan, it doesn't faze her.
"You heard me. I fell. He picked me up. That's all." I go back to grading papers and some of my students start to walk into the room.
"Hi, kids," she mutters.
She comes over closer to my desk and leans down in my ear.
"What you're telling me is nothing? A hallway picnic is nothing?" I shoo her away.
"Go back to your classroom. I'll see you around five in the girls’ locker room to get ready for the dance."
She gives me one of her icy but oh-so-friendly glares and smirks at me as she strolls to the door. Before she exits she turns to me speaking in her not-so-good impression of a British accent.
"Rumor also has it that Mr. Mathewson will be chaperoning the dance tonight as well. It should make for an interesting evening, shan’t it, Miss Hannum?" She winks and swings her blonde hair around as she leaves.
Tonight is going to be a long night.
***
Surprisingly enough, when Willow and I are getting ready, she asks me no further questions, which I’m glad for. Nothing happened anyway. I mean he helped me up,
got me my lunch, and ate with me. What's wrong with that? And so what if he's a nice-looking man with eyes the color of autumn leaves, full lips, wavy blonde hair, tanned skin, and a slim, athletic body. So what?
After we change our clothes and freshen up our makeup, we walk down the street from Grayson Elders to a small pizza shop to grab a slice.
When I take my first bite, something tastes familiar.
"Wills, have I ever had this pizza before?" She chews and nods. "Yes, but not from here. They have several franchises. You had it in Sandy Cove."
"I had this pizza. I remember this pizza. We ate it all the time when we went up on the boardwalk. I remember that. I can see us all sitting on the benches outside eating it. I can close my eyes and see us all! I remember a new thing! Oh my God, Willow."
She stands up and runs around the table to hug me. She jumps up and down, holding me because I can't get up and jump. I want to cry and scream in happiness.
Wow. What a feeling to have a memory come back. It scares me a bit, remembering something I had forgotten, but I welcome it and don’t question how it popped into my head.
When we finish, we make our way back to the school. The dance is set up in the cafeteria, which is air-conditioned. Thank the good Lord. We greet the rest of the chaperones and Principal Sanders tells us where to go and what to do. He instructs us about appropriate and inappropriate dancing, touching, and music selections. I totally feel like I’m in the 2014 version of Footloose.
The DJ and ice-cream bar is set up and ready to go, and the students start to arrive. I’m in charge of the ice-cream bar. My job; making sure they don't make pigs of themselves.
I look around and I don't see Daniel. Maybe he couldn't come. Maybe since he hasn't been sleeping well, he fell asleep and is late. Oh God, if that happened and Mr. Sanders finds out, that won't look good for Daniel. I wish I had his number so I could call and warn him.
Willow is by the girls’ bathroom and her job is to make sure only girls go in it. Back in the day, she would have been the one getting caught making out with a boy in there. Funny how life turns out, isn’t it?
The kids look like they are having a good time. The music blares and dancing commences. I stand by thinking about all the great things they have to look forward to in their lives. The memories they will make. Bits and pieces of my childhood are missing and I struggle with that. I can't remember some Christmases, birthdays or vacations—at least some of them—but tonight when I remembered about that pizza, I mean of all things, it gives me hope of remembering more.
