"Yeah and we really outdid ourselves this time, huh?" Cameron murmured quietly. She had enjoyed the wedding, and watching the party go off without a hitch had been great. Still, she'd been having a lot of trouble sleeping, and it was beginning to take a toll on her concentration.
"Still not doing so well?" Tabitha asked. She slipped her arm around Cameron's waist, surprised when Cameron stepped away slightly.
"No, but it's worse this time. I can't sleep most nights, and when I do sleep, I have these flashbacks. They're so real, I wake up soaked in sweat."
"You know you can call me right?"
"Tabitha, I don't want you there. If they come back for me or something --"
"Cam, you live in a different town. Don't you remember going away to college? Away from home? Different state?" Tabitha reached out again, touching Cameron's arm, pulling her around to steer her toward their cars. The cleanup crews could be trusted to do their own thing, so Cameron and Tabitha didn't need to be there.
"I know. But Jake, he knew I lived here, Tab."
"But do you really think he'll bother you?" Tabitha asked. She leaned her hip against Cameron's car, crossing her arms over her chest.
"No, it wasn’t his thing. But still. There's nothing more terrifying in the world than being truly defenseless in front of a predator, and I'm not sure I'll ever stop being afraid. Even when he was locked up, I was still looking over my shoulder, remember? I almost feel guilty, dating Mac, you know? All this baggage on my shoulders? I mean, he's got stuff too, but at least it's mostly normal stuff. What happened to me is not your average everyday drama, though."
"I know. None of us will ever forget. Especially me."
"I know. Look, I gotta get going, Tab. Michael's been staying at my house until things settle because it helps me sleep, so I have to get some laundry stuff done and pick up some grocery stuff. He makes me glad I don't have a husband, the way he comes home eating everything at night." Cameron waited for Tabitha to step away from the car, and then opened the door to drop inside with a weary sigh.
"Are you really sure you're okay Cameron? You want to get some coffee with me before you head home? We could go sit somewhere quiet for a while. Or I can come over and help you pick up the man-mess if you want company."
"No, it's okay, really. It's just, I don’t know," Cameron sighed. "No matter how easy the everyday days are, the anniversaries are always hard, and I just … I spend so much time stuck in what happened. It's like it's all happening all over again sometimes, and I just don't know what to do about it. I feel like I should be able to just get over it by now, but it’s not happened yet."
"You don't usually just get over PTSD, Cameron. What happened to you wasn't just a picnic in the park, and you were really traumatized for a long time. I know you can't see it, but you've come a long way, Cam, and we're all very proud of what you've made of yourself."
"Thanks," Cameron said, an exhausted smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "That means a lot to me, especially lately. I just feel like I'm trapped inside my head, and I don't know how to let it go. I want to feel peaceful, and I want to walk around with that sense of freedom, but I just don’t know how to get there."
"You know, there could be benefits to dating a therapist," Tabitha laughed. "Do you think you're any closer to telling Mac about what happened?"
Cameron sighed, letting her head drop back against the headrest behind her. "I don't know. On the one hand, I feel like I need to tell him before either of us gets too deeply invested. And I think it will help him understand why it freaks me out when he touches me, too. At least, I hope it will. I mean, how many men keep dating a girl who doesn't even kiss after all this time? But on the other hand, I'm terrified it will change the way he sees me, and then I couldn't keep dating him. I really do like him, Tabitha. He's been so patient with me, and I don’t want anything to mess up what we’re building."
"I know, and for the way he’s been so good to you, I like him myself, and I want to meet him, everyone does. When does he get back from the family thing?"
"Um, we have a date for Friday." Cameron watched Tabitha closely, waiting for the same shocked expression she'd seen on the faces of her family members.
"I like that idea," Tabitha said, and it was Cameron who wore the shocked expression. She leaned back in the car, looking up to stare at Tabitha's pursed lips, her lifted eyebrow.
"What?!" she shrieked.
Tabitha sighed, readjusting her stance as she gathered her thoughts. "Okay, so here's my thinking. Friday is the ten-year anniversary. And you always freak out on the anniversary. So I see two possible ways that the date can go, and all of them benefit you in the long run."
"Okay. I’m listening," Cameron said cautiously. She took a breath, nervously waiting to see what her closest friend would say.
"Okay. One; you freak out majorly, and he sees it and has to deal with it. If it leads to conversation and you can explain it to him and he takes things well, then maybe you can feel safe enough with him to let the relationship grow. If not, you cut it off before it can hurt you. Two; there's no freaking out, which means you already feel safer with him than you thought, which is good and means you should be able to sit him down and come clean. Again, if he handles it, he sticks around. If not, sayonara, sucker."
"Either way, cutting this off will hurt," Cameron murmured. "I really do like him. And if I'm truthful, knowing that he's a therapist really has given me a sense of safety, but you know what? That safety may be misplaced. Knowing he's a therapist means he could handle me as a client. I could lie back on his office couch and tell him everything, and he'd have to deal with it. And he would, because he's probably seen similar things or at least read about them. But my qualification as a possibly normal patient has nothing to do with whether or not he wants someone who suffers like I do around his son. Like, what if I meet him, and something triggers a panic attack and I scare him or something?"
"He hasn't asked you yet? To meet Logan, I mean?"
"No, he's actually really cautious about having women around his son, which is good. But if I'm going to put my faith in him to tell him about my past, it would just be good to know that he thinks we're going somewhere, you know? I think the whole Friday thing will be good for me, Tab. It’s like, this is the first time I have ever liked a man enough to want to tell him. But how do you tell that to someone?"
"I don't know, Cam. I just don't know," Tabitha leaned forward, bracing her forearm on the door of the car.
"Well, if I ever get my head straight on that, I'll let you know," Cameron said quietly. "In the meantime, Michael will be back at my house in a bit, and I have to get him some dinner or he'll eat my couch."
Tabitha laughed. "You go on then," she said, stepping back and allowing Cameron to pull her door shut. But as Cameron pulled away, Tabitha pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the man she'd seen as a brother all their lives.
"Mike? You might want to take your time getting back to Cameron's place," she said. "She keeps telling me she needs to hit the grocery store, but I think she's just trying to go off on her own somewhere. I’m not sure she should be alone right now ... No, don't worry. I think I know where she'll go, so I'll see if I can catch up and check on her."
Saying her goodbyes, she ended the call and pocketed her cell phone. Unlocking the door to her own car, Tabitha lowered into the seat and tucked her bag behind the passenger seat. Then she started her car with a roar and pulled away from the parking lot, pointing her car toward River Park.
***
Pulling up to River Park, Tabitha hit the brakes on her car to slow down. Cruising the parking lot, she narrowed her eyes and squinted through the dark in search of Cameron's little red car.
"Aw, honey," she whispered, catching sight of Cameron's car tucked into a corner of the parking lot. She'd backed into a space that was walled in; her car was protected by cinderblocks on the rear and also on the passenger side, leaving her able to see anyone approaching her. She wasn
't looking though; as Tabitha's headlights swept the front of Cameron's car, she saw only the top of Cameron's head, trembling with her obvious sobs over the steering wheel of her car.
Pulling into the empty spot beside Cameron's car, she sat still in her own car, watching as Cameron became slowly aware that she was no longer alone. She looked up and met Tabitha's eyes, smiling weakly as she passed a tissue under her nose. She crooked a finger at Tabitha and jerked her head in invitation.
"Here goes," Tabitha murmured to herself, turning to climb out into the crisp breeze of the park. She could hear the water of the river rushing nearby, and the distant shout of partying from a boat docked slightly further down. Walking over, she opened the passenger door of Cameron's car and dropped into the seat, twisting to face her best friend's tear-streaked face.
"I knew you weren’t going home. What happened?" she asked.
"I don't know," Cameron muttered miserably. "I was okay for a second, after we talked --" she broke off at Tabitha's snort, then continued. "I was. I was okay after we talked, but then when I was driving it just hit me all over again, you know? And I came here just to sit; I wanted to go sit by the water. I don't know why it helps me, but it does. And then I got here, and the longer I sat here, the louder the party got in my head. I could hear it all, Springsteen in the background, the frat boys screaming Foreigner and Journey tunes, and Michael Jackson. I could hear all of it. And I - Tab, I couldn't move again. I was stuck, sitting here, and I knew it wasn't real, but at the same time, it was so real and I really felt like I was paralyzed again."
She broke down, tears pooling in her dark eyes, spilling down her face in thick, black, mascara-laden streaks. Her body shook with sobs, her arms wrapping themselves around her waist. Tabitha reached for her; pulling until she gave in and leaned over the center console, her tears soaking damp black circles into Tabitha's dress.
"I'm sorry, Cam," Tabitha said, her own eyes pooling and running over. Tears dripped from her chin into Cameron's dark curls as they cried together, mourning the innocent romanticism they'd once shared. "I'm sorry I didn't stop him, Cammy."
"You didn't know, Tabitha," Cameron murmured, slipping a hand between them to wipe clumsily at her face. "You couldn't have known."
"I should have known. If I hadn't been so damn busy with Nick, I --"
"You wouldn't have known anyway. People stopped me, when I was leaving with Kevin, and I told them I was fine. I can’t tell you how many people told me that."
"People we went to college with, Cameron, not me. I'd have known better. I'd have seen. I knew you’d just had the break-up with Jake, Cam, and I should have been there with you. But Nick and I were so --"
"Please, Tabitha, it's okay. You didn't know any more than I did. Trust me, I wish it had been different too, that I hadn't been so trusting. That I hadn't been so stupidly angry." Cameron straightened in her seat, pulling the visor down and trying to repair the damage to her makeup.
"Angry?" Tabitha asked, watching a couple stroll by in front of the car.
"At Jake. For what he'd done, for dumping me because I didn't give it up. I guess he got what he wanted after all, though, huh? I was handed up on a silver platter after Kevin took what he wanted out of me. And all I have to console myself with is that the bastard wasn't first. Still," she muttered bitterly, the fingertips of one hand going to the place under her breast where she'd been tattooed, "he's permanent now; the whole night is forever. They made sure it’s always permanent, you know? That I’ll never be able to forget that night."
"You haven't covered it yet?" Tabitha's eyebrows drew together.
"What's the point?" Cameron asked, waving a hand dismissively. "I'd have to lift my shirt, for one, and for another thing, I'd always know it was there, hiding underneath like some ugly monster in the dark. And it's raised; I'm not even sure it could be covered."
"Oh," Tabitha said, unsure of what to say next. She turned to look out the window, examining the graffiti that littered the wall beside the car.
"It wasn't your fault," Cameron said, the weakness of her grief giving way to irritation. "You didn't know."
"But I should have, Cameron. I should have been around, I should have --"
"None of that matters, Tab, don't you see? Guilt has held you back enough. Let it be; it's already cost you what you shared with Nick, and who knows what else in the meantime. He can barely even look at me, he's so guilty. But neither of you failed me in any way, Tabitha. I was naive, but I was still responsible for my own choices and I bear my own consequences. You don't have to carry the load; it doesn't belong on your shoulders."
"Maybe so, but you didn't cause it to happen either, you didn't ask for it, and it isn't likely to happen again. Knowing that doesn't make the grief drop from your shoulders, and it isn't likely to drop from mine either. What if the situation had been reversed, if it had been me?"
Cameron stiffened, her shoulders drawing up and her face hardening. "Firstly, I'd never forgive myself for whatever I felt was my part in it. And then you'd be telling me what I'm telling you, and I probably wouldn't listen to you any more than you’re listening to me. But I think maybe I'd have killed him, if he'd done that to you. As bad as the story is, there are still things I haven't told many people. I'm not sure there's anyone who actually knows all of it, other than my mom."
"Even me?" Tabitha asked, sitting back. It hurt to hear that, and it horrified her. What she knew was grisly, terrifying; she couldn't imagine what more there might be to the story.
"Even you," Cameron sighed. "You have enough unnecessary weight on your shoulders as it is. You don't need anymore." Flipping a wisp of hair over her shoulder, she twisted the car key and the car's little engine roared to life. It was her signal that the conversation was over, that she was too drained to keep going.
Tabitha nodded, grieving for her friend but grateful that this would come and go. Cameron had her bad days, but overall, she was much better now, and the best thing any of them could do was give her space to keep processing. "Call me when you get home, okay?" Tabitha asked, opening her door, but waiting to get out. She waited until Cameron nodded, left Cameron’s car and crossed to her own, her teeth working her bottom lip as she watched her friend pull away.
***
"Oh, jeez, Gran, it's his girlfriend! Now we'll have to listen to him make smooching noises!" Cameron heard, the prepubescent young voice of Mac's son sounding through on the other end of the call.
"Smooching noises? You gonna make smooching noises at me, Mac? Because I'm having a hard time reconciling smooching noises with the biker badass who took me out for burgers. Oh, unless the zoo guy does phone smooches."
"Oh I can do more than smooches," he laughed. "But I'll spare you, and instead I'll tell you I can't wait to get home. We may only have been out a few times, but I've missed dropping in to see you."
"Ew, I'm gonna puke!" Logan's voice shrilled in the background again, followed by wild laughter.
"He is too funny. Doesn't he like girls yet?" Cameron laughed, listening as Mac growled and then Logan's laughter grew louder as, she assumed, he had snatched his son close to him.
"Actually," Mac said, sobering, "he has a girlfriend, one of the little girls in his class. He doesn't usually act like this; he's just showing off because you're the first girl he's known about since Alex. I think maybe he’s okay with the idea of me moving on." His voice was low and smooth. The happiness he felt in the presence of his family was obvious to her; she found it endearing and couldn't help wondering more about them.
"That's pretty fast though, isn't it? I mean, like you said, we've only been out a few times, and --"
"Cameron, I know what I want. I know when I'm not seeing it, and I know when I am."
"I see," Cameron murmured, her face heating with pleasure in spite of her appearance in the bathroom mirror. She'd been cleaning her house all day, going through old boxes and de-cluttering the closets. She was covered in dust, her vibrant purple t-shirt now dulled in places
to pale lavender. Tucking the phone between her shoulder and her ear, she unbuttoned her jeans and slipped her hands in, running them over her hips to slide the hugging denim down her legs. Her panties followed, and she abandoned her clothes in a pool of fabric on the floor. Michael was out on a date, and she was planning to use the alone time for a long hot bath, phone call or no phone call from Mac.
Stalking across the bathroom floor, she listened as he instructed his young son to go and take his shower, listened to Logan's responding groan, and then smiled to herself as Mac's smile broke into his voice. He may bicker endlessly with his son, but even in that, they obviously loved each other.
"You sound so in love with him," she said, grinning in response to Mac’s obvious happiness. Turning the water on, she flipped the plug to trap the water and dribbled vanilla scented oil into the water, watching the colored oil mix into the bath, spreading and dissipating with the force of the water.
Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series) Page 10
