Right before five, Aimee pulled into the driveway. She was more than exhausted. Her legs felt like pillars of cement as she tried to get out of the car, but she managed to get up the steps onto the porch. Under the porch light she fumbled with the key, but finally unlocked the door. After dropping her pack, Aimee raced for the bathroom. When she came out, she stood in the hall looking into the empty bedroom. The bed was left unmade, and her robe lay over the top. Twenty-four hours earlier her whole life seemed to be in control. Dylan was the center of her universe; her sun, moon, and earth. But now, she didn't know what she felt. She loved him more than life itself. But something had changed. Aimee stepped into the room and dropped to her knees at the side of the bed. She prayed to her loving God for help. She didn't think she could live without Dylan. She didn't think she wanted to live without him. So, all she could think to do was ask God to save them.
Chapter 15 Indiscretion
Too tired to shower, or even change, Aimee plopped onto the bed, yanked the covers halfway over her, and soon found sleep. Usually when she traveled, her sleep was dreamless and deep as her mind and body were drained, but the event with Brandi left her emotionally charged so her sleep was fitful and full of unnerving dreams about Brandi, Joseph, and most of all, Dylan. By 7:45 she was already awake, just staring at the ceiling, lost in a sky of fog, when she heard a car pull into the driveway. A few seconds later, a rather impatient knocking commenced.
Aimee slid out of bed, flipped on the thermostat as she passed it, then peeked out the living room window before she opened the door. James and Sacha were on the porch. Aimee thought for a fraction of a second she would pretend she didn't hear them because she was too tired from the night of driving, and she slept right through their knocking, but she knew James wouldn't believe her. So, slowly she unlocked and swung open the door. James took one look at his sister, still in her clothes from the previous day, and his angry tone melted.
“Come in,” Aimee finally said.
Both her brother and his fiancée stepped into the entry, then Aimee pushed the door shut and walked past them to get a drink of water. Neither of them said a word, just watched Aimee.
“Let me make some coffee,” Aimee said.
“We've already had some,” James said as he walked over and slid onto one of the bar stools.
Aimee replied, “Well, I could use a cup.” She felt four eyes on her as she busied herself with the coffee.
After an awkward couple minutes of silence, James finally said, “We're worried about you, Aimee.”
Sacha broke in, “Yeah, Aimee. We came over around 2:30, then four, when you didn't answer your phone. And Dylan about blew up our phones because you didn't answer his calls, or texts either. Then James came by about 5:30 and your car was in the driveway...”
James interrupted, “So, I called Dylan and told him you were home. Jesus Christ, he's upset, and I am too. Where the hell did you go, and why didn't you let us know what was going on?”
Aimee put her empty cup down and leaned against the sink with her arms folded tight. She glared at her brother. “I'm sorry I worried you, but it's not your business where I was. I texted you and Dylan that I was okay and I'd be home by morning.”
James stared back at Aimee speechless for a few seconds, then he glanced at Sacha. She shrugged her shoulders, then asked, “Are you in some kinda trouble?”
Aimee just shook her head.
“Are you okay?” Sacha continued.
Aimee didn't respond for a few seconds. Finally, she shook her head.
Sacha looked over at James, then asked, “Can we help?”
Aimee just ducked her head and shook it.
Sacha stepped around the bar into the kitchen. She took Aimee's hand into hers. “Look, we know something is really bothering you, and...well, we want you to know we love you, and no matter what it is, you can talk to us. Right, James?” she said as she glanced back at Aimee's brother.
“Yeah, Aimee, whatever you need. Just don't disappear without letting us know what's going on, okay? Dad will kill me if something happens to you.'”
Aimee scrunched her brows together. “I'm not a little kid anymore, and it's not fair for Dad to make you my keeper.”
“Well, like it or not, that's what big brothers do.”
“And big sisters, too,” Sacha piped in.
A pool of moisture built behind Aimee's lids. She loved them, and she felt really guilty she made them worry so much, but what troubled her was too private, and painful. She wiped her eyes with both palms, then said, “I love you both, and I really appreciate how you look out for me, but I've gotta deal with this by myself, at least right now. Okay?'”
“Sure,” Sacha replied after she quickly looked at James.
“Just don't tell Dad, all right? He doesn't need to worry needlessly. I'll get through this.”
“All right,” James agreed as he slid off the bar stool and stepped around the counter. He put his arm around Sacha, then said, “I guess we better go. I could use a few more hours of sleep before I go to work.” He paused and put his hand on Aimee's shoulder, “Call us if you need us.”
Aimee gave a poor excuse for a smile and nodded once. She followed them to the door and bid them bye as they walked out onto the porch. She watched them until they backed out, then she shut the door and locked it. She walked around the empty room, gliding her hand across the counter, then peering out the back into the lifeless yard. Suddenly, she dropped to the floor like she had been shot and laid there like a corpse. Of course, the tears came, and came, and came until her eyes felt like wet sand and her brain turned to mush. The backpack was still lying on the floor where she dropped it the night before. She crawled over to it and pulled out her phone. There were at least ten calls and texts from Dylan. She touched the newest text.
Aimee please...please...please...call me!
Then she dialed her voice mail and listened to the latest voice message. His voice was laden with pain, not anger.
I...oh God, I don't know where you are, or if you're safe, but I love you, and I need you, sweetheart. Please call me as soon as you get this. This is killing me not hearing from you...
Aimee didn't think she had any more tears left, but a few slid out and moistened her cheeks. She wiped them with the bottom of her hoodie, and just sat there in a daze. It was 8:43. Dylan should be home in a few hours. Her first thought was to repack her stuff. The boxes were still in the garage. But a voice inside her told her she couldn't leave. Not yet. She had to face him to find out for herself if it was true. And if so, why.
Her body ached for more sleep, but she knew it wouldn't come, not as upset as she was, so she slipped into the bedroom and pulled out some running pants from her dresser, slid off her jeans, and pulled on the smooth tights, then found her running shoes from under the bed where she had kicked them off when she got home. After a fast minute, she was hydrated and found her running bag, phone, and earbuds. She hadn't run since before she went to New York. Right now, that was what her body and mind needed desperately, so she would run until she couldn't run another step.
Their house was a couple streets over from Sarah and Lynn's house, but she didn't feel like running company today so she stuffed her earbuds in, turned up the music, and hit the pavement going down her street towards the main road where the three usually met up. Her rhythm was lousy, but then again, she had less than two hours of sleep after driving for hours, and on top of that, a journey. But, she kept going, the video image stuck in her brain no matter how hard she tried to focus on her running, or the music, or just emptiness. After about thirty minutes, she couldn't continue, so she about-faced, and started to jog back. About a half mile back, she spotted them; Lynn and Sarah.
“Shit,” she said under her breath. They waved. She waved back. There was no way around it. Aimee would have to pass them, and they would want her to join them, and she would have to stop, even if it was only for a minute, and converse, and they would want to let her know how great the ga
me was, and that Dylan was awesome on the field, and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. She really didn't feel like talking, but she had to suck it up and at least say hi.
After a short bit, they all converged, and instead of saying hi and moving on, they stopped.
Crap, Aimee thought. “Good morning,” she forced out.
“Hey, there. Happy New Year!” Lynn spouted.
“Yeah, Aimee, Happy New Year,” Sarah joined in. “We haven't seen you for a while. Been gone?”
Aimee nodded. “Yeah, I went to New York to visit a friend, then yesterday I went to the game with James and Sacha.”
“Nice,” Sarah commented, “I bet the game was a blast. We watched it on TV. Your man got to finally play, and he is gonna be so incredibly awesome next year. We can't wait 'til next season.”
“Yeah, I'm sure he'll take them on to a third straight championship,” Lynn said excitedly.
Aimee nodded and tried to smile. All she could get out was, “I'm sure he will.”
Sarah asked, “You through already, or do you wanna do a run with us?”
“Thanks,” Aimee replied, “but I think I'm gonna head back to the house and get ready for Dylan.”
“House?” Sarah said.
“Yeah, we finally got a place together. It's the one I was telling you about.”
“Awesome!” exclaimed Sara. “We'll have to get together and throw you a housewarming party.”
Lynn laughed. “Sarah loves to have a party for any occasion.”
Aimee managed a sorry smile. “That would be nice. Well, I better let you two get back to your workout. I need to get home and get cleaned up. I'll see you later. Happy New Year.”
Both Sarah and Lynn said good-bye together, then took off jogging.
Before long, Aimee was back at the house and in the shower. The warmth of the water didn't help to clear her brain, but at least she felt cleaner. After turning off the water, she stepped out and grabbed a towel, dried her body, and wrapped her long hair with the towel. She looked long into the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the last twenty-four hours left visible dark rings under them. She finished in the bathroom, then quickly dressed. Afterwards, Aimee plopped down on the bed and looked at the picture of her mother and dad on the dresser, and the the one of her and Dylan at graduation sitting next to it. She and Dylan were wrapped in each other's arms, just like her parents, and despite the stranger in the back who resembled Joseph, she treasured the picture. Dylan gazed at her with so much love. Now she wondered if they would make it to their first anniversary, which wasn't but three weeks away. Unsure of what was ahead of her when Dylan got home, she decided to wait on repacking. To be fair, she wanted to give Dylan the benefit of the doubt, only he didn't look like he was an innocent victim in the video. After a long sigh, she decided to busy herself by running to the bookstore and getting the last of her books for the new quarter. That could kill at least an hour. At a quarter past eleven, she pulled into the driveway. A young couple, most likely graduate students, were in their front yard and waved at Aimee. She waved back, but she didn't get out. Aimee wasn't in a mood to meet new neighbors so she pretended she was checking something, and stayed put in the car until they went inside, then she slipped out of the Camry and hurried into the house. It felt cool so she raised the heat, then took a seat at the bar. Mindlessly she flipped through her U.S. History book until she heard a car pull into the driveway. She immediately noticed the FJ, and Dylan in the driver's seat. He stared at the front door for an eternity before he got out. Finally, she heard him hit the porch. As he stuck the key into the lock, Aimee grabbed the knob from the other side and opened the door. Surprised, he looked at Aimee, then pulled his key from the deadbolt and entered slowly. He kept his eyes frozen on her as she walked into the kitchen and filled a glass of water. She stood at the window staring into the backyard.
Dylan dropped his packed bag on the floor, shut the door, and stepped over to the bar. He pitched his key on countertop, then slowly sat down on the stool, never once taking his eyes from Aimee. After a long sip, Aimee set her glass down, turned around and looked hard into his beautiful, brown eyes. She fought to keep it together, only her bottom lip quivered noticeably.
“Well...” Dylan started.
Aimee waited a couple seconds, then responded shortly, “Well, well what?”
“Where were you last night?” he demanded, his voice definitely strained.
“I took a drive to the coast,” she answered. “I had to get away to think.”
His brows pulled together. He asked, “Why? Whatthahell happened, Aimee? One minute we're great. Everything's perfect. We're finally living together, just like we've been wanting, then boom! You go all weird yesterday afternoon. James said you got sick at the game and spent almost the entire time in the car. Then as soon as you got back to Eugene, you took off. No one knows where you are. You don't answer your phone, but then you send a couple crazy messages, like it's top secret where you're at.”
Aimee didn't say a word. She just glared at Dylan.
“Aren't you gonna say anything? I'm not a friggin' mind reader. What's going on? I mean, is there something going on with us? Because, if so, I'd sure like to know whatthahell it is...” He paused, but he was too upset to continue.
Her stomach tied into knots, and her heart beat like a drum, but she wasn't going to take any blame for this. She glared straight at him and said, “You already know what's wrong.”
Dylan scrunched his face, like he didn't have a clue what Aimee was talking about. “Whatthahell do you mean?” he said with impatience leading to anger.
Aimee stepped over to the other side of the counter from Dylan. Never looking away, she revealed, “I ran into Brandi yesterday at the game.”
In a second, Dylan's face changed completely. Aimee could see his chest rising and lowering faster and faster. For once he was speechless, and the anger turned to something else.
Aimee continued, the wavering in her voice getting more evident, “I saw it, Dylan.”
Dylan still didn't say a word. His eyes looked like the time he found her after she had hit the deer. The fear of losing someone more important than life itself was plastered on his face. Aimee had her answer. The video was for real!
Stammering, he tried to explain, “I...I, uh, I don't know...” He stopped, shook his head, then rubbed his hand over his hair, and then nervously rested his hands together on the counter. His eyes were moist.
“Why?” was all Aimee could manage to get out.
Dylan hung his head and shook it. He wiped at the corner of his eye quickly, then said almost inaudibly, “I'm sorry. I know that doesn't excuse it, but I'm sorry.”
Aimee couldn't stay. Not now. Hearing it from him was worse than seeing it in Brandi's video. She started to round the corner of the bar to go get her backpack. Dylan followed her into the bedroom.
“Aimee, please don't leave. Please. Let me explai...”
She didn't let him finish, “Explain? Explain what? That you were positive your girlfriend, who loves you and trusts you more than she can express, was three thousand miles away getting it on with some guy, and that pissed you off? That she must be cheating on you just because you heard the asshole ask her if he could kiss her, so that was absolute, beyond all doubt, proof she was guilty? What the hell, turnaround is fair game, right? Why should you be faithful, when the person you love is screwing around on you? Huh? Why? So, like any jealous, jilted lover, you decided you were gonna fix her. And who best than with the person who hated her more than anyone, and who, by the way, tried to have your girlfriend killed! No, why should she be bothered her boyfriend was making out with Brandi Peters, the sluttiest bitch alive! Why would she care?!”
Dylan reached out to touch Aimee. She pulled away and stared angrily at him. “Don't touch me!” she hissed between her lips.
“Aimee, please, don't leave! I love you with all my heart. I know I'm an asshole, a friggin' moron. I...uh...oh God, I'm so sorry. You're right. I was
angry, and jealous, and I...well, I don't know why you put up with me. It's just I'm so scared of losing you, and then after I heard that Zane dude, I lost it. I started drinking at Tim's, and all of a sudden I looked up and Brandi is coming through the door with Andrew and another couple. I don't know why I even talked to her, but every time I turned around she was there, and Andrew was off getting plastered with the other dude they came with. Brandi listened to me, and acted like she cared, and before I knew it, we were sitting close together off by ourselves, and she kept telling me that I was right to question you, that I shouldn't trust you...”
Aimee broke in, “And you got sucked in, didn't you? She was there at the right time, and she knew just how to pull you into her web. And before long, she had you convinced I was untrustworthy, that I'm the slut, and you deserved better. You deserved her.”
“How did you know? That's exactly what she said, and like an idiot, I let her get to me.”
“Who took the video?” Aimee asked.
“I guess her friend who came with her. I remember her coming into the room, but I don't know. I was pretty drunk, and then all of a sudden Brandi was all over me. It didn't take long before I kinda snapped and got the hell out of there.”
Aimee shook her head. “Dylan, you know what hurts more than you being an idiot and letting her seduce you?”
“What?” he said distressed.
“You don't trust me. You don't believe that I love you like you love me, and that I need you as much as you say you need me.”
“Do you really love me as much as I love you, or need me as much?” he asked. “I just know I can't live without you. Every time you go missing, a piece of me dies, and I can't breathe, it's like someone is choking the life out of me, and then I start thinking crazy shit, like maybe someone has abducted you, or worse...” His voice trailed off. He wiped at his eye, then looked up at her with tears on his cheeks. “I know it's me. I have a trust issue. You know I didn't grow up with parents who were great with trusting relationships so I kinda have an issue trusting others. Aimee, you are just soooo friggin' gorgeous, and such a beautiful person at heart. You're real. When you look at me, I wanna believe I'm your everything. But like a stupid, jealous idiot, I didn't trust that you could just love me. You know, I've never met another woman like you.”
The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: Seeking Others Page 30
