Resurrecting Phoenix

by Isabel Lucero

  “You’re going to make me become awfully un-gentlemanly if you keep kissing me like that.”

  “Maybe that’s what I want,” I purr.

  Evan makes a low growling noise in the back of his throat. “Let me be a gentleman for the first half of our date at least. Then when we come back, I can very much become something else.”

  I stretch up onto my tip-toes and give him a quick peck. “Okay, deal.”

  The drive to the restaurant is a fun one. We laugh and talk about some of the most random things. Our personalities mesh well, and we can banter back and forth about the smallest things.

  Evan instructs me to wait in the car while he goes around and opens the door for me. After helping me out, he lets his hand rest on my lower back as we walk to the entrance of Santini’s.

  We’re escorted to a small booth near the front of the restaurant, right next to a window. Because of the time of day, we have a perfect view of the sun disappearing behind the mountains in the distance. The restaurant is lit in a dim, warm glow, making this the perfect romantic date location. The tables are covered with an ivory table cloth, while the booths are left uncovered, the dark wood glistening under the candlelight.

  Our waiter approaches, dressed in black slacks and a crisp, white button up.

  “Hello, and welcome to Santini’s. I’m Carl, and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “I’ll have a water, please,” Evan says with a polite smile.

  “Me too.”

  The waiter nods and disappears into the kitchen while Evan smiles at me from across the table.

  “Thanks for agreeing to join me.”

  “Of course. This is what couples do, yeah?”

  He grins. “Yeah, couples do this.”

  “So, what’s the favor?”

  “What did you have to tell me?”

  We both ask our questions at the same time.

  “Sorry,” I say with a laugh.

  “You go first,” he says. “What did you want to tell me?”

  I take a deep breath. “Well, today was the first day of the rest of my life.”

  “How so?”

  “I went to counseling. For both addiction and grief. I found out when the group meetings happen, and have my next appointments scheduled.”

  “That’s great, Phoenix!” he exclaims, seeming genuinely happy. “Really. Those are giant steps in the right direction.”

  I smile, blushing a bit at his adoration, and tell him how everything went. Having someone like Evan, someone I really like, give me so much support without any judgment, fills my heart completely. I couldn’t be happier to have him in my life.

  The waiter brings our water and takes our order while I’m in the middle of telling Evan about my day, so by the time I’m done, our food is in front of us, and we dig in.

  “Wow, this is really good,” Evan says between bites.

  “Told you.”

  “I’ll probably never be able to cook this good.”

  I laugh. “So, I’m guessing you’re not doing so well in culinary school.”

  Evan grins at me. “The only culinary school I’ve been in is the culinary school of Evan Tyler.”

  “What?” I ask, my brows pinching in confusion.

  “I’ve been teaching myself how to cook. Every meal I made for you, I learned how to make, specifically for you. I don’t normally cook meals like that.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yep, but you liked them, so I guess I’m not too bad.”

  “Well, I didn’t truly believe you were in culinary school, but I didn’t think for a second you were just learning. Makes sense, though. I saw a cookbook on your counter one time. You just consulted cook books, and the meals came out that good?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I had to try to impress you, and I wanted you to have something more than frozen pizzas and greasy cheeseburgers from the diner.”

  “Well, that was very nice of you. Are you going to admit to picking the maroon paint because I said it was my favorite?”

  He chokes out a laugh. “No, because it’s burgundy.” I twist my mouth up and narrow my eyes. He laughs again. “Look, I didn’t know what color to pick, but at least you’ll feel comfortable at my house. You helped pick out a lot of the stuff in there.”

  I laugh. “That’s true.”

  “You haven’t seen how the bedroom turned out,” he drawls, lifting a brow.

  “Hmm. I haven’t.”

  “Maybe I’ll give you a little tour tonight.”

  “Maybe I’d like that,” I flirt.

  I’m a little surprised at how at ease I am with Evan and our growing intimate relationship, but also happy to realize I can be this way without feeling an extreme amount of guilt.

  “So, tell me your news now. Or ask your favor, whichever it is,” I say with a smirk.

  He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “I wanted to ask if you’d come to my graduation celebration. It’s really not a big deal, but a few of the guys I’ve met want to go out and celebrate, and I want you with me.”

  “Well, since it’s not your culinary school graduation,” I say with a grin, “then what graduation is it?”

  “You’re coming, right?” he asks with an adorable smile.

  “I’ll come. Now, do I get to know what you’ve been up to all this time?”

  “Oh.” He straightens up and beams at me. “I’m officially a police officer here in Breckshire.”

  The smile on my face falls right along with my heart. I stare at him slack-jawed, and the words I’m officially a police officer here in Breckshire running over and over in my head.

  “Wh . . . what?” I manage to get out.

  “Yeah, well, I was a cop in California, so before I moved, I made sure that my basic training would be accepted here. When I knew it would be, I was told once I got here I’d have to take a criminal law class for a couple weeks, a challenge exam, a handgun proficiency course, and a couple others.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Anyway, every test I needed to complete, I have, and passed. I’ll be starting the field training soon.”

  The smile on his face is wide and his excitement noticeable. He’s so happy, and I can’t seem to come up with anything positive to say. I barely registered anything he said, all I know is that he’s a cop. He’ll be doing the same thing Gordon did. Gordon died in uniform. I’m terrified that now I could lose Evan the same way.

  Evan seems to notice my lack of enthusiasm, because he finally peers up from his food and studies me.

  “What’s wrong? You look a little pale. Do you feel okay?”

  I lick my lips, preparing myself to talk, but I don’t know what to say. Fear and trepidation flow through me, and then anger. Why does Evan have to be a cop?

  “I uh . . . I had no idea you were a cop. Had I have known . . . I don’t know. I’m just-”

  His brows furrow, no doubt he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with me.

  “You don’t like cops?” he asks, and I can tell he’s trying to be playful. “Are you a criminal?”

  I shake my head, and then look deep into his eyes. Can I allow myself to be with another cop? Living every day in a terrified state that he may not make it home to me? Would this be conducive to my giving up alcohol? I feel like I’d drink more every time he went to work.

  “Evan, I can’t . . .” I look around. “Can we leave?”

  His confused look deepens even further as he tilts his head at me. “Sure, I’ll track down the check.”

  “I’ll be outside.”

  I don’t give him time to reply before I’m up and rushing out of the restaurant. As soon as I hit the sidewalk, I take in a deep breath of the cool, outside air and will the tears from falling.

  “Why, why, why?” I plead to no one.

  I was happy and moving on. Evan is great and cares about me. I was taking steps to better my life, so why this? Why is this ha
ppening?

  Before Gordon died, I didn’t panic about him going to work. His death, and the nature of it, has scarred me. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to deal with this.

  “What’s wrong, Phoenix?” Evan’s voice is soft behind me.

  “I just want to go.”

  He walks me to his truck, helps me in, and then climbs into the driver seat and starts it up.

  “Talk to me. What happened?”

  “Evan,” I say with a defeated sigh. “Gordon was a cop.”

  He looks a little surprised, but just nods, not understanding why I’m upset. “Okay.”

  I huff. “He was murdered in the line of duty. He was doing his job, and he was killed.”

  “Oh. Phoenix. Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

  I put my hand up. “Don’t say anything. I guess we should have discussed more about ourselves before now. I was just trying to keep you at a distance.”

  Evan begins driving and the silence in the truck is deafening. Nobody knows what to say, so we don’t say anything. It isn’t until he pulls into my driveway that he speaks again.

  “Phoenix, I need you to talk to me. What does this mean? Because I’m a cop, you don’t want anything to do with me?”

  “It’s just, I don’t know. We were heading in the right direction. You know? I felt like, maybe this thing between us could be special.”

  “It is,” he implores. “That doesn’t have to change.”

  “Evan, how am I supposed to not worry about you? What if it happens again? I can’t go through that again. I can’t.”

  “You will worry about me. Just like I’ll worry about you. Anything could happen to either of us at any given time. What if I was a bus driver and got into an accident? What if you worked at a bank and somebody came through with a gun and robbed it, killing you in the process? Bad things can happen anywhere, Phoenix. It’s okay to worry, that means you care.”

  “I don’t know, Evan. Knowing what you’re doing every day, I’d be a nervous wreck all day long, waiting for you to get home. I can’t live like that. I don’t want to drive myself crazy thinking of all the bad things that could happen. I don’t want to think about losing you, too.”

  “Phoenix, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I don’t leave you. I wouldn’t want you to go through that pain again, but while I can’t guarantee that, I can guarantee that I’ll make sure our time together is meaningful and full of happiness. Wouldn’t you rather think of it that way? Think of all the good times we can have instead of waiting for something bad to happen. We can’t control what may or may not happen in the future, but we can control our present. We can be happy.”

  I sigh and give him a sad smile. “I understand what you’re saying. I really do. I just need some time. Okay?”

  He looks defeated, like he knows this thing between us is over. His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “Okay, Phoenix.”

  Forcing myself to smile at him, hopefully giving him some reassurance, I turn and exit the truck, and make my way inside the house. As soon as the door closes behind me, I drag myself to the couch and collapse. So much for date night.

  What I couldn’t tell Evan—the reason I need some time—is because the first thought I had when he told me he was a cop, was that I needed a drink.

  A drink will help.

  A drink will make me feel better.

  Drink.

  Drink.

  Drink.

  “NOW, WHY DO you think that is?” Jacqueline asks.

  “I think I wanted to drink because, well, for one, out of habit. When things get stressful or become too much, that’s been my answer. Also, because I wanted to dull the pain.”

  Jacqueline uncrosses and re-crosses her legs, looking at me inquisitively. “Why is it painful for you that he’s a cop?”

  “I’m afraid he’s going to die,” I admit.

  “And you care about him.”

  “Yes, and I don’t want to go through that pain again. I’m just now starting to get over the pain of Gordon’s death.”

  “So, you’re worried about him and yourself,” she states, no question in her tone.

  “Well, yeah. Is that wrong?”

  “No, no. Of course not. It’s human nature to try to protect ourselves. People put up walls to protect their feelings, people close themselves off in an effort to make sure nobody can get close, because getting close means you have the ability to hurt someone. However, what kind of life is that to live?”

  “A lonely one,” I say softly. “I lived that life for a while. Up until Evan came around.”

  “And until you found out he was a cop, you had started enjoying your life again, right? You had fun, you opened up a little bit, and everything was okay.”

  “Everything was good. Great, actually.”

  “Everything can still be good. What you’re doing, Phoenix, is a good thing. You’re getting help. You didn’t drink that night. I’m sure that was tough.”

  “It was. I almost drank several times, because I still had the alcohol in my house.”

  Jacqueline’s brows furrow just slightly. “Mmhmm,” she murmurs with a nod.

  “Don’t worry. It’s gone now,” I say with a slight smile.

  “Good. You didn’t drink and you could have. Instead, you called and made an appointment the next day to speak with me.”

  “And I came to the group meeting yesterday.”

  She looks surprised. “How was that?”

  “It was good. Everybody was nice, and I met one woman—Stephanie—who is also going to both addiction and grief therapy. We talked for a while afterwards, and it felt really good to get everything out and know that person isn’t judging you, because they’re in that place, too.”

  “Just know, Phoenix, that drinking isn’t going to make Evan suddenly not be a police officer anymore. Drinking isn’t going to change the past, and it’s not going to help you in moving on. You have to be stronger than that. If you think you can’t be with Evan because of his job, then you have to tell him that, but I think you fear being with him because of you more than his career choice.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You feel like you can’t be with Evan because you can’t handle the pressure, the fear, the worry, and you think you’ll go back to being miserable. All of those things are dependent upon you. However, if you give up on this, I think you’ll be miserable then. You’ll still worry even if you two aren’t together, but now you won’t have the good times.”

  “He said something like that. He told me we can’t control what may or may not happen in the future, but we can make sure we’re happy now.”

  “Smart man,” she says with a smile. “Worrying is okay, but don’t let it take over your life. You said yourself that Evan has helped you a lot. He’s come into your life and brought happiness in with him. Do you want to get rid of that?”

  “No. He makes me feel stronger. He makes me want to be better.”

  “So I think keeping him around is a good thing.”

  “I’m still scared.”

  “I know. We’ll get through this.” She leans forward and puts her hand on my knee while looking into my eyes. “You’ll get through this, Phoenix.”

  I leave Jacqueline’s office feeling a little better. I called her the morning after my date with Evan to make an appointment, and got in three days later. I haven’t seen Evan in those three days, but we have texted several times.

  He isn’t questioning what’s going on with us or forcing me to say much. He’s just being Evan; telling jokes and being friendly. He’s too good a person, and I want to be good enough for him.

  I’m meeting up with Marissa at Grubbin’ Grill, and I look forward to getting her opinion on this, because I know she’ll give it to me straight, and she’s the only cop wife I know. If anybody knows how I feel, it’s going to be her.

  When I arrive, I take my usual seat and spot Carol across the way. When she sees me, she comes over with a Coke and sets it on
the table.

  “Hey, darlin’.”

  “Hey, Carol. How’s it going? How are you and Max?” I ask with a sly grin.

  She blushes. “Everything is good.”

  “I’m glad. You guys are cute together.”

  She waves her hand at me dismissively, but with a smile on her face.

  “How’s Evan?”

  I sigh. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  She furrows her brow. “What’s going on?”

  “Do you go on break soon? Marissa is coming, and I was gonna tell her all about it.”

  “I can take fifteen minutes here in a bit. You want the usual?”

  “Yes, please.”

  As soon as Carol walks away, Marissa saunters in and drops to the booth across from me.

  “I am so tired,” she complains, dropping her head back and closing her eyes. “But hungry, too. Did Carol already take your order?”

  “Yep. She just went back to put it in.”

  “I’ll be back.”

  Marissa rushes off to go tell Carol her order and is back within a minute.

  “So, what’s been up?” she asks.

  “Lots.”

  “Well, spill it, woman.”

  “The talk with Anthony went really well. I mean, we cried and probably looked ridiculous to a lot of those people in there, but I’m really glad we spoke.”

  She smiles, her eyes look a little wet with unshed tears. “I know. He told me, and I’m so happy. You need to come over for dinner now, too.”

  I laugh. “I know. Just let me know when.”

  “Of course.”

  “Anyway, after our talk, I went home because Evan was set to come over later. He had saw me and Anthony at the coffee shop, so I had to explain to him who Anthony was, because I think he thought I was just talking to some other guy.”

  Marissa laughs. “That’s funny.”

  “Anyway, umm . . .” I duck my head, my cheeks reddening at the memory of that night.

  “Umm what?” Marissa questions, leaning in over the table and staring at me with wide eyes.

  “Some . . . stuff might’ve happened.”

  Her jaw drops. “Some stuff?”