Love Me Like You Mean It

by Jaime Russell

  “No can do, Abs. This trip is all about Thomas. Besides, I washed hands of him on your wedding day, or did you forget?”

  “No, I didn’t forget.” Abby hangs up and Max’s knuckles are turning white as he is gripping the steering wheel.

  “So,” I ask after about twenty minutes of watching him sit there, staring out the window driving like he is on autopilot.

  “Don’t ask.” Max looks at me through the corner of his eye.

  “I was going to say that you need to feed me, but since you brought it up, I’m here if you need to talk. Relationships are to lean on the other person.” Max puts on the turn signal to change lanes to get off at the next exit. He pulls into a steakhouse. I start to grab my wallet from my purse and Max squeezes my leg to get my attention.

  “My dad was abusing Abby, physically and emotionally.” I gasp as I put my hand over my mouth. “She kept it to herself for ten years. He made me choose, and you can tell who I picked. This man took me in, cared for me, and taught me how important being a man is, and with that first slap across her face, he destroyed it all.”

  “Max, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” I lean in kiss his lips, tenderly, soft. I don’t want or need this kiss to be rushed, sexual like we’re used to doing, but I want him to know that he isn’t alone. I hope he can feel this in our kisses.

  “Thank you,” Max whispers into my ear.

  Max

  I’m a goner. Reagan doesn’t pry but offers support. She pulls away from me, and I look into those gorgeous hazel eyes of hers. Right on cue, Reagan’s stomach growls rather loudly. “I told you I was hungry.” We kiss again as we walk hand in hand into the restaurant. Once we are seated in a booth, I place my order so I can call my brother, Marshall.

  “What’s the latest?”

  “He’s going to be fine. He has to change his diet, exercise more, and see the cardiologist on Wednesday. There will be testing to see what happens next.”

  “Blockage?”

  “Not sure, I didn’t ask that question. Abby seems upset.”

  “I guess. It’s probably the hormones. I’ll call her when we stop for the night. You going to be in town when I get there?”

  “No, I’ll be up for the weekend. I couldn’t get anyone to cover for me, but I already scheduled the weekend off for a retreat with Patty’s church.”

  “I’ll see you then. I’m staying with Rob and Aaron but can switch to a hotel suite for the weekend so we can spend time together.”

  “Sounds good. Later, man.” The waitress brings our food as I set my phone down.

  “Marshall your brother?” I nod. Reagan doesn’t push, and I don’t offer any more detail. I’m happy that she respects me enough to not push me for details. I don’t want to keep things from her, but I’m still trying to deal with the past with Thomas and now my dad.

  “Son, come sit down.” Jack Stephens was sitting in brown recliner while he sipped on a glass of scotch. Alcohol and father figures didn’t set well with me. “Now.” His tone was strong with authority. I had to listen, because I didn’t know what was going to happen. I’d been with the family for a few months, not really sure how they were besides how important family meant to “Mom and Dad.” I walked over to the matching couch. “You want to go first or should I?” I looked at my hands, watching the blood drip on my jeans. Jack Stephens threw me a couple of towels so I started to wrap my hands to stop the bleeding. “I guess I’ll go first. Out of your system?”

  “Nope.”

  “Didn’t think so. What was this fight about?”

  “This asswipe was picking on someone four years younger than him.”

  “Noble but stupid.”

  “Stupid? Are you fucking kidding me?” I jumped off the couch and started to pace.

  “Watch your mouth with me, boy. Stupid for fighting at all. You could’ve been expelled all for someone you didn’t even know. You’re lucky the principal is an old friend of mine.”

  “Sir, the kid getting picked on didn’t deserve it. He was helping a girl with her homework. She hugged him, and her boyfriend, star football player, tackled him to the ground. He was almost fifty pounds heavier than the kid. How is that okay?”

  “I don’t care what happened. You live in my house and will follow my rules.” Jack Stephens was towering over me, his breath reeking of alcohol so badly that I almost threw up on him.

  “I’m always going to defend a person who can’t defend themselves. It’s who I am. I’ve been the underdog most of my life. Expect the calls, old man.” I walked past him to head up to my room. I got to the entryway when I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist. I looked down to see my new sister, Abby, looking up to me with stars in her eyes.

  “Thank you for sticking up for my friend, Rob.” I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t used to affection, so I gingerly patted her shoulder. I heard my dad clear his throat and Abby jumped back. She said hello to him and raced upstairs. In that moment watching her running up the stairs, I knew they were my family. I finally belonged.

  I shake my head to get out of it as I see Reagan putting her card back in her wallet and signing the check.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Paying for dinner?” Reagan says as she leaves a ten-dollar bill on the table for a tip.

  “I’m the male, I pay.” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to look stern. Reagan laughs.

  “I’m capable of paying, besides I don’t like being a kept woman. You were a thousand miles away,” is all she says. Our fingertips are barely touching. I don’t want the connection to end, but we need to leave.

  “Ready?” I ask her as I hold my hand out to help her out of the booth.

  Reagan offers to drive my truck for a little bit since my mind is elsewhere. When Abby moved down here two weeks after she married Cash, I went through a midlife crisis. I traded in my SUV for this beast, a Ford F250 truck. Reagan had to grab her pillow to see over the windshield. I laughed at her because she didn’t need it.

  “You know what they say about a man who buys a truck like this?”

  “No what?” I ask, tilting my head.

  “A man is making up for something small.” Reagan is staring out the window.

  “Why don’t you tell me if that’s true?” Reagan’s trying to keep from smiling, but the corner of her lips are twitching.

  “I think you should remind me. My brain doesn’t seem to remember.” We both laugh out loud. I unbuckle to lean over the console so my lips touch her ear lobe.

  “Oh, I’ll make sure you never forget.” Reagan shivers as my breath makes contact her with skin. She smiles as she licks her lips and begins to fan herself. “Cold or hot?” I ask as she rolls down her window.

  “It’s getting very hot in here.” I smirk, and she scoffs. I reach to turn on the radio, but Reagan stops me. “Max, where were you during dinner?”

  “Right in front of you.”

  “Max”

  “I was remembering something about my dad. Thomas on his final days and my dad’s heart attack has me thinking about my past.”

  “Did you ever use drugs?” I look at her, out the window, then back to her. Did she really just ask me that question? I’m taken aback from it.

  “What? Where the hell did that question come from?”

  “We’re learning about each other’s past, right? It’s an honest question. I smoked pot in college.”

  “Drugs and me have never been one to mix.” The playful feeling in the truck is gone, and I can’t get out of this truck fast enough. Reagan feels the shift so she puts the radio on. After about two hours of driving, Reagan decides that it’s time to get some sleep as she pulls off on an exit that has the hotel symbol.

  Reagan

  One of the many things I like about Max is how passionate he is. In the few days that I’ve known him, I’ve seen him go from calm to horny in a matter of seconds. But that passion works both ways in the truck we go from flirting to brooding in seconds. How am I going to get to know
him and understand this man if he’s going to act like this? I know his past is a touchy subject, but he can’t keep hiding from it. I pull into a parking lot of a hotel that I saw from the highway. I need some time away from him, and I think he will agree with me. I turn the truck off and toss the keys into his lap as he stares out the window.

  I grab my bag from the back seat and head into the hotel to get a room for myself.

  “Hello, welcome to the Hilton. How can I help you?”

  “I’d like a room please.”

  “Do you have a preference of smoking, non-smoking?”

  “Non-smoking, please.” Ashley, I learn from the name tag, is busy typing on the computer. She asks for my credit card and ID. She gets me checked in and hands me my cards back and my room key. “There is going to be a very attractive man coming in after me. His name is Max Stephens. Please don’t fall for his charm and tell him my room number. We’re friends but in a fight right now.” She nods, and I head to the elevator.

  I walk into my room, close the door behind me, and put the latch on. I collapse on the bed before grabbing my phone to FaceTime with Jonathan.

  “Aunt Reagan! Where are you?”

  “Somewhere in North Carolina.”

  “Don’t forget my postcards and souvenirs.” I can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm for this trip. I wish I could feel it. Right now, I just want to go back home. “Where’s Max?”

  “He’s at the truck. Did you get your homework done? Your friends came by as I was loading the truck, and they told me they brought you the homework that you missed on Friday.” Jonathan rolls his eyes. “Where are you?”

  “Granny J’s.”

  “Tell everyone I said hi. How are you? Miss me yet?”

  “Yes, but I know you’ll have fun. Oh, Granny J is yelling that I have to get ready for bed. I love you. Bye.” With that, he ends the call. My phone beeps with a text message.

  Max: Separate Rooms?

  Me: Yes

  Max: Why?

  Me: We need the time apart.

  My phone starts ringing, and I be begrudgingly answer it after seeing it’s Max. “Why do we need time apart?”

  I sigh loudly. “Max, we need to rethink this road trip together. I don’t think this was a good idea.”

  “Are you serious? We’ve been on the road seven hours. You couldn’t decide this earlier?” I look around the room to see what I can focus on while I try to get out what I need to say. This room reminds me of my nana’s house. The queen size bed’s comforter is a pale blue with flowers on it, and there is a piece of string fraying, so I play with it. “Reagan, are you still there?”

  “Yeah. Max, you don’t do relationships. I’m terrified because it’s not just me. I have a child to think about.”

  “I know all of this. I’m terrified too. Why the shift?”

  “Max, how are we going to get to know each other if you won’t talk?”

  “So, you’re willing to throw this away because my past belongs to me?” Max yells into the phone.

  “Your past is destroying you.” I hang up on him. He keeps calling and texting me. I start to flip through the channels to distract me from the beeping of my phone, but I am a glutton for punishment—I read through the messages, but one catches my eye.

  Max: Reagan, my past is why I don’t do relationships. I’m not that person anymore but you’re right. My past is destroying me. I like you. Don’t let my inability to talk about it stop us.

  Max: This trip is about letting go.

  Max: Good night. See you at breakfast. Give me another chance. PLEASE

  I grab a shower with his text messages running in my thoughts. I often ask myself, “If Kennedy were still here, what would she tell me to do?” I sit down on the bed still in my towel, thinking about his words. Should I continue to see where it goes or run home? I send a quick text before getting dressed for bed.

  Max

  Reagan: I’m sorry. See you at breakfast <3

  I smile at my phone. I really screwed up without even thinking about it. Abby, Sarah, Aaron, and Rob are the only ones who truly know my past. What if Reagan learns everything and never speaks to me again? I can’t stay in this room anymore; it’s closing in on me. I hope the fitness center is open so I can work myself into exhaustion.

  Minutes later, I’m in my basketball shorts and no shirt as I start to run on the treadmill.

  I’m running from seeing my biological mom lying dead on the floor.

  I’m running from my biological dad being convicted of her murder.

  I’m running from the foster homes where I would sleep with one eye open so I didn’t keep getting jumped.

  I’m running from the foster father who liked little boys.

  I’m running from the guilt of not knowing that Abby was getting abused.

  I’m running from fears of not being enough for Reagan and Jonathan.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been running, but my left arm starts to hurt and I get a sharp pain in my chest. I jump off the treadmill and collapse to my knees. Am I having a heart attack?

  “Max!” I hear someone yell my name. I notice that Reagan is on her knees in front of me wearing my George Strait concert t-shirt and boxers. “I’m calling 911.” Reagan’s eyes are searching for a phone.

  “No,” I wheeze.

  “You could be having a heart attack. For God’s sake you’re clutching your chest.”

  “Panic,” it’s the only word I can get out. Reagan begrudgingly agrees but threatens to drive me to the E.R. I’m trying to catch my breath, breathing in and breathing out. Reagan stands and grabs my bottle water that is on the treadmill.

  “Take small sips.” I do as Reagan tells me then I lie on the floor feeling like my body has been run over a few times.

  “Thanks,” I whisper as she lies down next to me. “What are you doing here?” My voice is hoarse.

  “Marshall called my phone. He wanted to talk to you. I went looking for you since I didn’t know what room you were in. What sent you into a panic attack?”

  “You.” Reagan’s face went from worried to sad in a matter of seconds. She starts to stand, but I grab her wrist to stop her. “Listen to my explanation first before you run away from me.”

  “You just told me that I sent you into a panic attack, what’s to explain?”

  “Reagan, you coming in to my life has me rethinking everything. My past is one that I don’t like to share. I worry that I’m not worthy of you and Jonathan. I’m not perfect, far from it, but I’m wanting to be perfect for you.”

  “I don’t want perfection. I want you, demons and all.” Reagan kisses my forehead. “You need to shower then get some rest.”

  “Will you be joining me?” I look at her eyes to make sure she’s watching me as I try my hand at the puppy dog face.

  “No, I think we still need time apart.” Reagan avoids eye contact with me when her words came out harsher than what they were supposed to be. I place my hands on her face to force her to look at me.

  “I’m not mad. I think I need the rest, let my mind process.” I try to make sure my tone is one of understanding and not of anger.

  Reagan walks me to my room, helping by letting me lean on her and just taking our time. She opens my door with the keycard that I hand her. My hands are still shaking from my panic attack. I lean on the door jamb as she gets ready to leave me. “Reagan, give me this week. It’s going to be a struggle because I don’t like talking about my past and prefer to keep it bottled up. There are going to be topics that are too much for me to talk about, but we’ll get through them, I promise.”

  “Max, I’ll try to be patient, but I need to know you better. I really do care about you.”

  “I know and I care about you. Good night, doll.” Reagan leans into me as we kiss goodbye for the night. I use my tongue to slide in-between her lips. Our tongues are fighting for control as we break apart; Reagan’s lips are swollen, and she’s trying to catch her breath.

  “Goodnight
, lover boy.” Reagan leaves.

  I sit down on the bed still feeling the effects of my panic attack and how Reagan’s words are affecting me. The beeping on my phone brings me from my thoughts. I glance through it to see text messages from Marshall, Abby, my mom, PandaBear, and Reagan. I notice the time to see its after one in the morning, so I decide to call Marshall.

  “Yo,” Marshall answers.

  “You called?”

  “Yeah, I ran into Amanda and she told me about Thomas.”

  “He’s the reason for this trip.”

  “And the girl?” he questions, and I smile.

  “What about her?” I get defensive with Marshall because I don’t want my mom and dad finding out about her. I need to protect them from her as long as possible.

  “Girlfriend? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call a girl that before.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “Abby told me, and I never thought it could happen.”

  “Reagan is different. We’ve only known each other for four days, and it seems right.”

  “Good for you, man. You deserve to be happy. All right, I’m pulling into my garage. See you this weekend. I can’t wait to meet this amazing woman.” Marshall hangs up before I can say anything. I toss the phone on the bed then head into the shower to relax.

  The alarm clock in the room starts going off, and I’m trying to remember if I set it. I roll over to my side to check the time and see if it’s worth getting up or sleeping a little bit longer. I see that it’s only five in the morning. “Nope, not happening.” I reset it for eight.

  My body is exhausted. I tossed and turned most of the night. My past often gives me nightmares because I have so many unanswered questions. I hope with Reagan’s help that I can move forward, because I want to give her a life that she deserves. I get up and shower so I can prepare for more of my past coming to light. “Yay me,” I say sarcastically out loud to no one but me.