What's Left of Me (Finally Unbroken Book 2)

by Maria Macdonald

  Chapter Six

  I’m not sure why I just said that. If the look on Laurie’s face is anything to go by, then I just said too damn much. Fuck.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. All I seem to do is apologize to this woman.

  “N-no, it’s fine. I just…” she huffs out a sigh, “…Ruben, I don’t understand?”

  That make’s two of us, sweetheart.

  “I have no real explanation. I don’t understand myself. I came here… I’m not really sure why to be honest. I thought it was to ask you for your help, I mean, I’m not good with those classes you run. So, I was going to ask for some one-on-one time with you, but whenever I look at you…” I stop speaking, not wanting to continue that thought process.

  “Whenever you look at me, what?” she pushes.

  I stare into her eyes, captured once again, by the mixture of pain and tenderness, almost at odds with each other. “When I look at you, I feel like you’re the one that needs help. You look… caught. I’m not sure how. I’m not even sure how to explain it, but when I look at you, I see your demons. I’ve never been able to see past my own before.”

  “What exactly do you want to do? Fix me?” Her angry whisper hides a deeper emotion that I can’t quite put my finger on.

  I rub my head. “I don’t know, Laurie, okay?” I try not to snap.

  “No. It’s not okay!” she snaps back, louder, and the few people in the diner look up. Before I say anything she continues, “You were horrible to me eighteen months ago. Maybe I should let that lie, but Ruben, it hurt. I tried to help you and you dismissed me like a cold caller.”

  “I was in pain,” I growl out.

  “Aren’t we all?” she hisses back.

  I slouch down in my seat and sigh. “Maybe coming here wasn’t the right thing to do,” I tell her.

  “Maybe it wasn’t,” Laurie replies sharply. She takes a sip of her coffee and blows out a breath. “Look, you’re here now, do you still want to do one-on-one?” she offers.

  I pull a hand down my face. “Okay, the truth…” I mumble to myself, “…Laurie, I’d like some one-on-one, but honestly, I feel like I’m getting better like I’m nearly there. I mean, sure, I have some issues that still need dealing with, things that Anabel has been helping me work through.”

  “Then why do you want one-on-one time with me?” she asks, confusion clear in her eyes.

  “Because I think you still have demons. Ones that aren’t going anywhere soon. One’s that you’re not facing right now. Laurie, I want to help you… I thought we could help each other,” I tell her and wait. Then wait some more. She doesn’t say anything, just sits staring at me. Her eyes work, but I don’t know her well enough to always see what’s going on behind the façade.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” she tells me, getting up from her seat. “Thanks for the coffee.” Her voice has gone back to the angelic natural tone and I nod in response. Of everything I’ve learned over the last twelve months, the main lesson is that you can’t force people to see their demons, and you can’t force them to deal with their issues. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves. Laurie once told me that.

  She starts to walk away, but I grab her arm. “I’ll walk with you,” I tell her. She snatches her arm away, but sighs and nods, which I take as an agreement.

  As we leave the diner, we fall into an awkward silence. “Do you spend all your time at the community center?” I ask, moving onto safer conversational grounds.

  “Not all my time, but yeah, a big chunk of it. I came here about a year after… Anyway, at first, the center was my home because the people here helped me. Then, Derick—”

  “Derick?” I ask

  “He’s the manager. Such a lovely guy, about sixty, he’s been running the place for forever. Of course, he wants to retire soon. The only problem then will be funding, and obviously the lack of a manager. Anyway, I’m getting off track. So Derick offered me a cleaning job. I was desperate for the money, I’d do anything, plus keeping busy was a bonus especially back then. I spent all my free time at the community center. I had nothing but time.” She swallows and looks down at her feet. “I had no home back then, and I don’t mean metaphorically, I mean in the literal sense. Derick let me use one of the sofas in the communal room, every night after the center was shut, so I had somewhere safe and warm to sleep. I started doing some of the paperwork, mainly helping out because I was bored. Quickly, I learned the ropes but didn’t get paid. It passed the time, plus I figured, it gave me skills for the real world.

  The woman who did all the office work back then, Edna, was Derick’s wife. She retired about eight months after I started coming here, so he offered me the job. Apart from Rocco’s birth, it was the single biggest thing that had ever happened to me in my life.” She stops and looks up at me. “That’s pretty sad, right? I mean the biggest things to ever happen to me were my nephew being born and being offered an office manager job?” Her lips twitch. “Funny, I don’t feel sad about those things, I only feel proud and blessed.” She starts walking again, but I’m stuck. This beautiful woman–Fuck, did I just refer to her as beautiful?–has so much more strength than she realizes. She has a huge heart and does everything with a smile.

  Laurie stops. “You okay?” she questions and it jolts me from my daze.

  “Yeah.” My voice is raspy as I join her, stepping into her side.

  She starts walking slowly, glancing up at me. “You really want to know this stuff?” she asks, insecurity in her tone.

  “Yeah, strangely enough, I do. I find you interesting, and I’m actually pretty bummed that nearly two years ago when you started trying to help me, I pushed you away. I couldn’t see the genuine care you had or the fact that you wanted nothing but to actually help me and I threw that in your face.” My stomach twists with a stabbing pain when I think about how I pushed her away. Even back then I thought she was beautiful, but I couldn’t admit it, not even to myself. I was too hung up on Amanda, and I thought if I even looked at another woman I’d be betraying her.

  Laurie blushes as we come to a stop outside the center. I step toward her. “You make me look at everything differently,” I tell her.

  “W-what do you mean?” she asks as I move that little bit closer. Bringing my hand up without really thinking about what I’m doing, my fingers find a strand of her hair and I tuck it behind her ear. Little intimate touches like these I’ve tried to avoid with anyone for so long, but there’s always been a draw to this woman for me, something I controlled by cutting her out of my life.

  “The world seems different when I’m with you…” I explain, letting my fingers stroke slowly down her cheek, “…being around you.” I sigh. “Laurie, you make the impossible seem like a walk in the park. With you, I feel like I’m capable of anything. You make me want everything, all the things I’d thought were never possible again. Everything… it’s all wrapped up in you. I’m only just seeing it now. Seeing you now.”

  “Ruben, I’m not sure what you’re saying,” she whispers. When she stares at me, her eyes push through every external wall of bullshit I’ve built up throughout my whole life. She doesn’t just slay my demons, she decimates them, just with her smile or her voice. Just by standing next to me.

  I can’t say the feelings don’t scare me. But now I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, with Danny and Anabel helping me exorcise the demons I was still clinging to, from Amanda’s passing.

  “I’d like to help out at the center if that’s okay?”

  She’s taken aback by my offer. “Okay. I mean, sure, thanks. We can always use volunteers. Is there anything you’re particularly good at?” she asks me.

  I take a few moments to think. “Well, I can spend time with the old folks? If you have something there?”

  “Yeah, that would be great. Just sitting and talking to them, giving them time would be great. It’s not an area that most people want to volunteer in.”

  “Well, my mom had me when she was forty-o
ne, she’s seventy-eight now and she has Alzheimer’s. So I kind of have some experience. She lives with my aunt, has done for a few years, but I visit regularly. It’s been hard watching her demise, seeing her turn into someone she’s not, forgetting everything. She would hate it if she realized what was happening. I hate it for her.”

  Laurie nods and I’m surprised by my own admission. There’s something about this woman that makes me want to be honest… about everything. Like there’s a need within me, a need to lay myself bare. For her.

  “Okay. Well, tomorrow the old folks come to the center, and they’re here all day. So come whenever, okay?” she asks me. Her eyes find mine again, the easy going smile on her face hits me in the gut and I take a step back. “Ruben, are you sure you’re okay?” she asks again.

  I nod then reply, “Tomorrow, Laurie,” before turning on my heel and heading back home, only this time it doesn’t feel like I’m running. I need a check in with Anabel. I’m hoping that at some point soon my emotions will settle, instead of being so up and down. It’s as though all my feelings are being thrown in the air and I’m being told to catch them. I’m looking forward to a time when I don’t need to speak to Anabel to pull apart my thoughts and emotions. Needing to be sure that the road I’m crawling along is my path, and all the effort is worth it, so eventually I won’t be crawling I’ll be running.

  Chapter Seven

  I walk back into the community center slightly dazed. Luckily or unluckily—as the case may be right about now—Sarah is on hand to snap me out of it, seemingly waiting for my return.

  “Tell me everything!” she demands, gripping onto my forearm when I’m no more than two steps in through the door. I roll my eyes, but follow her lead to the coffee room as she tugs on my arm, pushing the scratchy knit material into my skin. It’s better to get this done. I still have cleaning to finish. Pushing us both down on the soft chairs, that sit out of place in the coffee room.

  This area is bare, necessities are the only things gracing the counter tops. The two chairs we sit in were donated. We had a young woman come here—she was isolated after being attacked—and with Sarah’s help, she got better learning to live in the real world. Her parents were grateful and they were also rich. That year we didn’t have to find the fifty thousand dollars that we barely scrape together every year, just to keep this place running. We also found ourselves with a few new items. These two chairs being some of the goods that were given.

  Placing my arms along the edges of the seat, I scrunch the soft, luxurious brown material in between my fingers. It’s a silly comfort I know well. Even when I lived at home with my parents, we never had anything as grand as these. I’ve been known, on occasion, to come and sit in one of these chairs after my day is done. Needing some peace and quiet, and very aware that when Amber’s not there, the house I live in is not even close to being a real home. The lack of anything warm or inviting in the small space doesn’t help in filling me with the comfort and homeliness that I crave so desperately.

  “It was… strange.”

  “Strange? What kind of an answer is that?” Sarah replies, looking slightly deflated. She juts her bottom lip out and blows up, fanning her bangs away from her face. At nearly forty-three, Sarah has it going on. With her tiny, almost pixie-like frame, and platinum blonde hair to match, she just needs wings to be an extra in a Tinkerbell movie. The years have been good to her skin. Always using moisturizer, she says. But I’ve seen her mom, I know she just lucked out and has good genes.

  I pull my lips to one side of my face and scrunch up my nose. “I don’t know what exactly happened. It was… strange,” I murmur.

  “There’s that word again.” She blows up at her bangs once more and I stand up, reaching into my pocket and pulling out two spare bobby pins. “Thanks.” She winks at me and puts one pin in her front teeth while using the other to pull some of the overly long hair—that’s about a month overdue a cut, and the reason why it’s getting into her eyes—between her fingers and clips it out of the way. “So start from the beginning. What happened?” she asks through her teeth, the second pin still sticking out. And even though she looks like Tinkerbell right now, she reminds me of the wild animals on those shows, picking the carcasses of their prey from between their teeth.

  “He took me for a coffee. He said his first thought for coming here was to ask for help, in the form of one-on-one sessions with me.”

  Sarah raises her eyebrows and makes a groaning sound.

  “Woman! You’re supposed to be a dang counselor!” My exasperated voice is only bettered slightly by my hands, which I throw into the air in an ‘I don’t believe you’ pose.

  Sarah laughs, slapping her hands on her thighs. “Girl, I’m not in counselor mode right now. I’m fully immersed in girlfriend mode. If I couldn’t differentiate between my work and my personal life, I’d have no friends,” she tells me throwing her arm out with flare and jingling the different colored bangles she always wears up her arm.

  “Okay,” I giggle. “Calm down.” The humor infused into my tone is something Sarah always manages to bring out in me, it’s one of the reasons we’ve been friends since I met her. I never laughed much, not after Rocco and Larissa. “Anyway, while he was talking about me helping him, something changed. I have no idea what, I could just see his features… they morphed, they became soft. He looked at me like—”

  “Like?” she demands.

  “Like he could see me. Like he saw into my soul.” I shake my head. “God, I sound ridiculous,” I chastise myself.

  “Stop. Don’t do that, don’t belittle what you felt. It doesn’t matter whether it was there or not, it only matters that you felt it. It was tangible to you Laurie, so it did exist, it did happen,” she says softly, moving her head down to catch my eyes, which I’d direct to the floor.

  “Separating your work and personal life, huh?” I ask smugly.

  Sarah rolls her eyes. “Well, if you’re going to talk stupid, then I need to bring out my other side,” she tells me and I giggle again.

  My giggles stop abruptly when I think back to his words. “He said I have demons that I need to work through, things I’m hiding from.” I glance to her face, expecting to see shock, or maybe a frown. Instead, her eyes are cast downward and her mouth is pinched. “Sarah?” Her name is a question on my lips as an unease spreads through me.

  “I’m sorry girl, I hate to say this, but that man can see through the front you have in place.”

  “What?” the whisper drops from my lips as my eyes widen.

  “I agree with him. You have issues, I believe that to be true. But baby girl, you are not ready to face them.”

  I stand up so quickly, I’m almost shocked. “I do not have issues,” I hiss out between my clenched teeth.

  “Yep. That’s what I figured your response would be. Sit down Laurie, tell me what else he said,” she coaxes me. Her face is a cover, soft and placid, I’ve seen her use this face when she’s needed to help the most vulnerable or scared of our visitors. Kids who don’t want to talk, but desperately need help. Is that how she sees me? I sit back down, feeling uneasy, I’m just not sure why.

  “He changed the subject. Asked if he could help out here,” I explain her, watching her face closely. Sarah nods at me. “Stop it,” I snap.

  “Stop what?” her tone is level, all the character that I usually hear in her voice has gone.

  “Stop being a shrink. I hate it,” I complain looking at the floor once again.

  “Hey girl, I’m sorry, it’s hard to pull myself away from it sometimes. After all, this is also part of me,” she tells me and I feel bad for snapping at her.

  I cross my arms over my body and rub the tops of my arms up and down. Sarah’s eyes follow my hands, watching my movements. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I stop and bring my hands back to my lap.

  “Anyway, he’s coming tomorrow, he’s going to sit with the old folks,” I explain.

  Her eyes light up at that statement. “Oh wow
! That will be great. They have hardly any interaction,” she says jubilantly.

  I just nod. It’s true, no one really cares about the old folks. They live in a home about two miles away, and come here three times a week, just to get away from there. We lay on as much as we can for them, but in truth, it’s probably not any better than being at the home. Having someone new to talk to will hopefully bring them out of their shells.

  “I better get back to the cleaning,” I say, standing.

  Sarah stands with me, catching my arm before I walk away. “Listen, Laurie. You don’t want to hear this, and I get it, you’re not ready. But just know that I’m here if you need me. We all have things that we hide from one another. Sometimes small things, sometimes huge. What most of us forget… choosing instead to hide them, even from ourselves… is that these things… they all make you who you are. Without them, you’d be a different version of yourself. Not better, not worse, just different. That’s okay too, being different. Sometimes we need to move into different, just to move forward. The main thing is that you’re not scared. That you surround yourself with people who love you. One person or one hundred… it doesn’t matter. Just knowing that someone’s there who loves you, and will catch you should you fall. That person can help you become who you want. That person can give you freedom from your own chains.” Her eyes search mine, pleading with me to hear her, and I do, I just don’t want to admit it out loud. So I pull my arm from her grip and walk away. Ignoring the pain that has started to bubble up from the pit of my stomach, ever since Ruben Asher came back into my damn life and brought back all my truths.

  Chapter Eight

  “Uncle Wuben, can we puway wiff da hamsterwer.” Mandie’s words are mumbled. At four, I’m not sure whether this is how she should speak or not. I look to Anabel, who rolls her eyes at me.

  “She asked if you could both play with Lucky, the hamster,” she explains pointing to the little brown and white furry ball, which sits trembling in the corner of a wired cage. My eyes move from the terrified creature to Anabel and Danny’s oldest child, Amanda—lovingly nicknamed Mandie. Then my eyes graze across the thick, cream, shag-pile carpet until they reach Clara, their nearly two-year-old terror. Currently proving my point, with a carrot stick, that she seems to be trying to shove up the ass of a toy duck. Can’t say the duck looks impressed, plastic or not.