“Let them, then,” Landon says with a shrug. “I don’t care what they think. I care about you. How are you feeling?”
“A little better,” I say. “New day and all that.” My stomach rumbles loud enough for both of us to hear. “I guess I’m hungry, though.” It’s not surprising. Neither one of us ate anything last night.
“Me too. I’d planned to take you out to dinner to celebrate being done with exams.”
“And instead, I managed to ruin everything by falling apart on you.” I sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. We’ll have other opportunities to go out for a nice dinner.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up. “I’m starving, though. Let’s go get breakfast. Then you and I are going for a little drive.”
We don’t say much over breakfast. I don’t feel like talking, and Landon doesn’t press. It’s not until we’re in the car that I ask the question that’s been on my mind since Landon mentioned it last night. “Where are we going? Where are you taking me?”
“Hampden Park.”
I think I know what that means, and I don’t like it. “I don’t want to talk to your stepmother, Landon.” It comes out sounding terse and defensive.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he answers, his voice kind. “I just want to show you something.”
That eases my concern, and I try to relax for the rest of the drive. We listen to A New Horizon and talk about the baseball tournament, which makes the drive seem short, and soon we turn onto a tree-lined street filled with typical New England colonial style houses.
Landon slows the car down in front of one of them, but doesn’t stop. “This is the house I grew up in, where my dad still lives.”
“Aren’t we going to stop?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet.” He drives away from the house and we go a few more blocks until he slows again, turning into the parking lot of a grocery store and turning off the engine.
Now I’m really confused. “We’re going grocery shopping?”
“No. We’re not going shopping.” He doesn’t look at me, just stares out the windshield, then points. “You see that intersection right there? That’s where it happened.”
“Where what happ—” I start to ask, then stop as it sinks in. The intersection where his mother was killed. “Oh, Landon.” I reach for his hand, which he takes. Now it’s my turn to try to comfort him.
~Landon~
Kori reaches for my hand, and I link my fingers through hers. It feels comforting, reassuring, exactly what I hope my touch has been able to do for her. We sit there and watch a few changes of the light cycle until I speak again.
“6:42 pm,” I say. “It happened at 6:42. It was a Thursday, and we were going to have a family movie night. It’s something we liked to do, and we took turns picking the movie. This was my night to pick, and I wanted to watch Jurassic Park. It was one of my favorite movies, and even though my mom hated it, and I’d seen it probably ten times, she humored me.” I swallow hard. “I tried to watch the movie once after that night, and I couldn’t do it. I destroyed the DVD.”
The light changes again, and I watch a few cars go through the intersection. “I wanted a root beer float, and we didn’t have any ice cream in the house, so she ran out to go to the store.” I close my eyes. I still remember protesting, that she didn’t have to make a special trip just so I could have my favorite dessert, but she insisted. ‘We’re just a few blocks from the store. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Maybe less.’
“It’s the last time I ever saw her. The car was mangled, and my dad insisted on a closed casket.” The tears are falling now, like they always do every time I come back here. Kori squeezes my hand, but doesn’t speak. It’s like she knows I need to do this. For me. For her. For us.
“Statistically, you have a greater chance of being killed in a car accident less than two miles from your home than you do of dying in a plane crash, but people don’t think about that.” I choke back a hollow, humorless laugh. “My mother hated to fly. It scared her. But she wasn’t scared of driving, and now she’s gone. All because I wanted a stupid root beer float.”
“It’s not your fault, Landon,” Kori says. “It’s nobody’s fault except the jerk in the other car who ran the light.”
I nod and wipe at my eyes with my free hand. “I know that. I do. But it still sucks.” I shift in my seat, turning to face her. “You think things are easy for me? None of it’s easy. It still hurts, every single day. It does get better, though. The hurt gets less. Life goes on, and I go on with it. That doesn’t mean anything’s easy.”
“I’m sorry. I should never have implied that.”
“Don’t apologize,” I tell her. “I understand what you meant, and that’s why I had to bring you here today. To show you it still hurts, and I’m not as strong as you think I am, even though I try to pretend to be sometimes. You don’t have to pretend to be strong, either. You don’t have to act like it’s fine, that it doesn’t still hurt. Not for me. I’m not going to walk away from you, Kori. I’ll be here with you because I love you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
~Landon~
Kori’s mouth drops open. “You what?”
The words are out there now, and I can’t take them back. That’s okay, because I don’t want to. I surprised myself a little with how easily the words flowed, since it’s not like I’ve ever said them to a girl before. But they’re true, and maybe that’s why there was no hesitation, no stumbling, no second-guessing. “I said I love you, Kori. I may not have known you for very long, but Colin said something to me a couple weeks ago that sometimes you just know when someone is the right person for you. Something just clicks. And that’s what happened for me.”
“Landon, I...” She shakes her head. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“And I’m rambling.” It’s too much, too soon. Not my feelings, because I’m sure of them. But it’s been a very emotional and stressful twenty-four hours for both of us, and this probably wasn’t the time or place. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything right now. If I’m moving faster than you can handle right now, then I’ll slow things down. That’s not a problem. I just wanted you to know how I feel. That I’m in this for real, and I’m not going to turn my back on you. Okay?”
My eyes search hers for some clue that she’s in it for real too, that she feels the same way, even if she’s not quite ready to say it yet. Finally, after what seems like eternity, Kori nods. “Okay. Thank you. That means a lot. I... I’m scared right now, because I want so much to be happy and carefree again, the girl I used to be. And I’m scared if I can’t be, then no one will want to be around me.”
It’s probably the most honest thing she’s ever said to me, and it reveals how much she’s still been hurting inside, all the while trying to let on that she was fine. “You’ll never be that same girl again,” I say, and I hope she doesn’t take it the wrong way. “What I mean is you’ve been through so much, and it’s forever changed you. I’m not the same person I was before my mom ran to the store to get ice cream and never came back. That kind of thing changes a person. But just because you won’t be that same girl again doesn’t mean that you can’t be happy and carefree and love life again, because you can. It just takes some time... and maybe some help from others.”
I’m careful how I word it because I don’t what her to put the walls back up again, and because I know how I reacted back when my dad suggested that I see a shrink. Looking back, I almost wish he would have pressed the issue more. Sure, I found my own ways to deal with things, and I think I’ve done all right, but sometimes it’s still hard. More than anything, that’s what I wanted Kori to see, why I brought her here.
We sit there in silence for a few minutes, staring out the windshield, before Kori says anything. “Can we go to your house now? Can I talk to your stepmother?”
“She’s not at home, she’s at work. We can go to her office, though.”
I turn the key to start the car again. “It’s not that far.”
We’re there in less than ten minutes, and I take Kori’s hand as we walk into the building and take the elevator to the floor where Liz’s office is. Her assistant, Kathleen, looks up from her desk as we walk in. “Hi Landon. Liz didn’t say you were coming by.”
“Because she doesn’t know,” I say. “Kind of spur of the moment, but is she available?”
“You’re in luck, because one of her clients had to reschedule. Go on in,” Kathleen says. “You know you don’t need permission.”
“Thanks,” I say, and lead Kori to Liz’s office. I knock once and push the door open. “Hi, Mom. Kathleen said we could come on back.”
“Landon.” She looks up from her desk. “Of course. What’s up?” She looks from me to Kori. “Is something wrong?”
“Not wrong, no. We just felt like going for a drive,” I say. “And I think Kori would like to talk to you if you have a few minutes.”
~Kori~
I can’t believe I’m here, or that I came here voluntarily. Part of me wants to say it’s nothing, that we really just came to say hi on our way to a movie or something, but that would be a lie. And it would leave me exactly where I was before. Unable to move forward.
I want to be able to move forward, especially if it’s true that Landon loves me, and I believe he does. I think I love him too. In fact, I’m pretty sure I do. I’m just not sure I can say it yet, and fortunately he seems to understand that.
Dr. Grayson pulls off her reading glasses and smiles at me. “Sure. I’ve got some time.” She gets up from her chair and walks around to the front of the desk, then leans back against it. “What’s on your mind?”
I think she knows, but I like that she’s not assuming, instead letting me get around to the reason for the visit in my own way. It helps a little that I’ve met her before in a setting outside her office. I know she’s kind and laid back, and she drinks beer and eats potato skins and loves baseball and curses at officials when she doesn’t like the call. Somehow, knowing all that relaxes me.
So does her office, which isn’t what I expected from a shrink’s office. Not that I knew what to expect. “There’s no couch?” I don’t even realize I spoke out loud until she laughs.
“No, and I don’t wear sweater vests or smoke a pipe, either.”
“You got me there,” I say, joining her in a laugh.
“I’ve got chairs over by the window,” she says, pointing. “Sometimes I sit over there with clients and talk while we have coffee. Others like to sit in these chairs.” She puts her hand on the back of one of the leather chairs opposite the desk. “And play with this while we talk.” She picks up a Rubik’s Cube and hands it to me. “This is popular.”
I take it from her and turn one of the rows. “Like trying to solve a puzzle while you’re busy trying to solve the puzzle of their life.”
“A little like that, I suppose,” she says. “Although I view therapy as a two way street. I can’t help anyone solve any puzzles unless they’re receptive to the idea.”
Her voice is gentle, kind. I can see why she’s good at her job. “That makes sense,” I say. “I’ve had a lot of people tell me I should try to talk to someone about the things I’ve been dealing with, but I haven’t always been receptive. I wanted to do things my own way.” I turn the cube back the way it was before and set it back on the desk. “Except yesterday I realized my way wasn’t working so great and that’s maybe it’s time for me swallow my pride and ask for help.”
She nods, her expression understanding. “That’s a huge first step. If you’re ready to take the next step, I can make some referrals.”
“Can’t I just talk to you?” After all, I feel comfortable with her.
“I’d like to help, but I think given your relationship with my son that it might be better for both of us. And Landon too,” she says, looking at him, “if you saw someone else.” She walks back behind the desk and picks up a pen. “I can give you the name of someone I like and trust a lot, that I think you’ll be comfortable with, if you’re ready.”
Landon reaches for my hand. I take a deep breath and swallow. “Yes, thank you. I’m ready.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
~Kori~
I wanted to do my therapy with Dr. Grayson, but I see how it would put her in a position of conflict and be awkward for Landon as well. One thing that’s become very clear is that Landon isn’t going anywhere. He’s a huge part of my life now, and if having a relationship with him means I have to see a different therapist, that’s fine with me. The most important thing is getting myself right so that I can fully embrace and enjoy our blossoming relationship.
As soon as I meet Jenny Dedrick I see why Dr. Grayson thought she was the right choice. She’s young, probably late twenties, and dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt. There’s no couch in her office either, and also no Rubik’s Cube on the desk. Instead, there’s a little toy frog on a swing. I love frogs, and this guy’s cute, with the happy grin on his face as he swings back and forth. “Does he ever get tired?” I ask, then worry about sounding stupid. He’s a toy frog after all.
“He gets to rest when I turn the light off,” Jenny says. “He’s solar-powered.”
“Cute,” I say, still watching the frog.
“I think so. And clients seem to like him. It gives them something cheerful to look at while we talk,” she explains.
It makes sense, kind of like Dr. Grayson’s puzzle. Different approaches, but the same goal of putting people at ease. “Cheerful’s good,” I say. “I’d like to be cheerful again.”
“We’ll get you there,” Jenny says, and I want to believe her.
“So where do we start?” I ask. “How do we do this?”
“We can start wherever you want,” Jenny says. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”
“Sure, okay.” I think I can handle that much. At least I hope. “Let’s see. I’m nineteen. I just finished my freshman year at Plymouth State. I like music and baseball and bacon cheeseburgers.” Funny how normal that all makes me sound. “And in the past twelve months I’ve graduated from high school, lost my mother to brain cancer, been dumped by my high school sweetheart whom I thought I would marry, moved into a dorm by myself, started college and met a fabulous new guy who says he loves me, and I’m pretty sure I love him too, even though I haven’t been able to tell him.” I take a deep breath. “And two weeks ago, I had a complete meltdown outside the social sciences building when I thought I’d flunked a test and he might have found a different girl while he was out of town at a baseball tournament. It turns out I was completely wrong about both. But, um, that’s why I’m here.”
“That’s a lot of change, for sure,” Jenny says. “And it’s perfectly understandable to feel a little off-balance after experiencing so much change in a relatively short time.” She leans back in her chair and gives me a reassuring smile. “We can take any one of those things to start, or talk about something else entirely. We can even talk about what you ate for lunch, if you’d like.”
“A club sandwich,” I answer, then let out a laugh. This is nothing like I how I expected therapy to be, but she’s managed to make me feel relaxed and comfortable. I look at the frog again, still happily swinging along. “I like those a lot too. And even though I haven’t declared a major at school yet, I’ve decided I want to be an oncology nurse.”
Those two things don’t relate to each other at all, but instead of looking at me like I’m crazy, Jenny just nods. “Go on. Tell me more.”
“I remember the nurses caring for my mom when she was sick. How wonderful they were. They saw people who were weak, sick, scared, struggling to fight, and they always had a smile for their patients. Their compassion could brighten a day. I know they made my mom’s last days a little better...”
~Landon~
I hate sitting and waiting. It’s not something I’m good at. There’s no way I would let Kori do this alone, t
hough, so I pass the time in the reception area playing a game on my tablet. I’m so proud of her for taking this step, and I want her to know I’m completely behind her, even if it’s frustrating to be sitting and waiting and not know how it’s going.
Is Kori going to like Jenny? Will Jenny be able to help her? Liz assured me that she thought they’d be an excellent fit, but I’m still nervous. This is such a huge decision Kori made, but if she’s not comfortable with the therapist, will it do more harm than good?
I glance up from my tablet at the TV in the reception area. It’s tuned to the same soap opera my mother used to watch sometimes when I was growing up. I can’t believe it’s still on the air, or that I still recognize some of the characters. Before I even realize it, I’m getting caught up in the show and I set my tablet down on the chair beside me.
“You watch soap operas now?” Kori’s voice startles me. I didn’t even realize she’d come out of the therapist’s office.
“Promise not to tell anyone?” I look up at her, trying to gauge from her expression whether the session went well or not. “You know, might ruin my reputation with the guys on the team.”
She laughs, which I take as an encouraging sign. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
“I knew I could count on you.” I stand up and give her a kiss on the cheek. “How’d things go? If you want to tell me, that is.” I’ve decided I’m not going to pry. Kori can tell me as much or as little as she wants about her sessions. Either way, I’ll be here to support her.
“Very well,” she says, and it sounds like she means it. “I like Jenny already, and I can’t believe how fast the time went. The hour was up before I even knew it. We were just chatting away. Oh, and I think I finally figured out what I want to major in.”
“Oh yeah? How’d that happen?”
Kori smiles. “Want to go get something to eat and I’ll tell you about?”
“Sure, okay.” After all, I never did get to take her out to dinner after we finished exams. I link my hands through hers. “Let’s go.”
Love & Light Page 12
