Moore than a Feeling

by Julie A. Richman

  “How long did it take you to get to that place?” his voice was soft.

  “I got there after I hit rock bottom. I was a fucking mess.” This time when she picked up her glass, she took a hefty swig. “And that was when I decided that the two pieces of shit who raped me had controlled my life for long enough and I was done handing it over to them.”

  Aiden was clearly floored by Mia’s candor. “And what did you do? How did you take the control back?”

  “The first piece of it was making the conscious decision that they didn’t deserve the power. I did. The second piece was finding a therapist who specialized in treating PTSD in victims of sexual assault, and the third, and by far the hardest piece of it, really working my ass off in therapy, being honest with both myself and my therapist, digging deep and facing truths about myself, and then living what I learned, and employing the strategies my therapist and I had discussed.”

  “You know I’ve always liked you and respected you, but now, even more so. You are truly a badass.”

  “Are you talking to anyone? A professional?”

  “I am, but the VA doctors are so backed up and overloaded. And the last thing I want to do is start taking drugs on a regular basis.”

  “What about groups? There have got to be vets’ groups on Long Island with guys, and women, who have been through similar things. I would think those would be tremendously helpful.”

  “There are. I just haven’t really looked into them.”

  “Aiden, you don’t have to do this alone. And it’s not a sign of weakness to ask for help. As a matter of fact, it’s a sign of strength. It shows you’re ready to fight for what’s important and that is you.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Are you telling me you don’t think you’re important?”

  He shrugged.

  “People don’t walk away or stop loving you just because you’ve been through a shitty situation. And if they do, well, those are the people you don’t want in your life anyway. Do you really think Holly’s going to stop loving you because you are in a dark place or have some scars and a prosthetic eye?”

  Aiden’s head snapped back at the mention of his prosthesis. And then he smiled. “You know, Mia, I think the thing I love most about you is that you don’t shy away or pussyfoot around things. You just put it right out there and I really appreciate that. People are just so afraid to address what happened to me, that they pretend nothing has changed. I don’t have conversations with people about it because it makes them uncomfortable. But something has changed and I’m so tired of everyone pretending it hasn’t.”

  “Well, your eye looks great. Let me just start by saying that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “When I was over in Zambia for the groundbreaking of the physical therapy rehab center, Lily and I met an ocularist named Johan Baer, and we spent some time with him that trip and got an education on prosthetic eyes.” Mia picked up the bottle again. Feeling the effects of the cognac, she looked at Aiden and smiled. “Wow. We’ve really made a dent in this.” Digging in her wallet, she pulled out a credit card. “Can you order another one to set aside for him? He won’t even know we’ve been having a good time with his booze.” She laughed. “Maybe this falls under community property-law booze.”

  Aiden swiped the credit card and handed it back to Mia. “You do understand why I can’t drag Holly back into my life right now?”

  Mia shook her head. “I think, you think, you’re doing the right thing. But neither of you are going to truly heal staying apart from one another. Trust me on that one, too.” Mia referred to the twenty-plus-year gap that she and Schooner had spent apart. “Aiden, it breaks my heart to know you are emotionally struggling.” Mia’s eyes quickly filled.

  “I’m not struggling, Mia. I’m drowning.”

  Mia nodded. His candor was painful to hear, and yet, his last statement sparked hope. He had finally slid open the bolt securing his door. Now if she could get him to just crack the door open.

  “And I can’t let her follow me down this rabbit hole. I can’t.”

  “Well, you can’t stay in the rabbit hole either, Aiden. You either crawl out or you die. Those are the only two options. And the second one is not an option. So, you need to fucking claw your way out.”

  Picking up his glass, he regarded her for a second before taking a sip. “I don’t know how to start.” Feeling the muscles in his face begin to twitch with emotion, he turned away, embarrassed to let Mia see him crumble, even a little bit.

  “Aiden,” she whispered. Reaching across the bar, she slipped her hand into one of his, squeezing it. “You just did.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Mia.”

  “I want you to listen to me. Really listen.” She paused to make sure she had his attention. “You are not alone. I hope you know that you are family to us and we’re not going to let you drown. We are not. We are just not. And we’re not going to let you drown in self-pity, either, okay. So, will you let us help you? Will you let me help you?”

  “I don’t know how you can.”

  Mia released his hand and picked up her drink. “Well, the only way I can is if you’re willing to help yourself. If you are, then I can help you. But I’m not going to lie to you, it’s a shitload of work and hard as hell. But it works, Aiden, it really does. Just the fact that I’m sitting in front of you proves it works. It just depends on how badly you want it.”

  “I wasn’t having a whole lot of luck with the doctors I was seeing.”

  “Well, then, let’s find you someone who can help.”

  “I’ve got to go through…”

  “No, you don’t.” She cut him off.

  “Yeah, I do. I can’t afford…”

  Waving dismissively, she cut him off again. “Let’s make that the least of your worries.”

  Squinting at her, he wondered if he was too drunk to follow the conversation. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying let’s find you a great doctor who specializes in cases like yours, someone you feel comfortable talking to, and I don’t want you to worry about the money.”

  “Are you saying…”

  “Yes.” She cut him off again.

  “I can’t.”

  She knew he was too proud. He’d been supporting himself from the time he was a teenager. “Yeah. You can, and you will. If you want this just to remain between us, I’m fine with that.”

  “How am I going to…”

  “Repay me?” Mia asked, as she watched him breathe in deeply through flaring nostrils. “You’re going to repay me by working your ass off to get better. That’s what I want back from this. I want you. You in?” Mia picked up the bottle again, refilling their glasses and then smirking as she observed how much of the bottle was gone. “I’m glad he loves me.” She giggled.

  “You are a force to be reckoned with. You really are.”

  “That’s what my husband tells me.”

  “Can this just be between us?” He needed confirmation.

  “Of course.”

  “I should be able to handle this on my own. I’m a man. I’m a soldier.”

  “And you’re human, and there is no shame in asking for help when you need it. Are you afraid of what Schooner and Holly might think?”

  He nodded.

  “They’ll think you’re really brave. Trust me, they will not think less of you. Quite the opposite. They’ll be really proud that you took the hard road. Believe me, I’m right about this. But if you’d like this to remain between us. I’m fine with that. Give me a couple of days to do some research. I’ll see if my therapist can give me some recommendations, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Yeah. I’d appreciate that.”

  “It’s going to be okay, Aiden. We’re not going to let you drown. And you are one of the best swimmers I’ve ever met. You’ve got this.” As Mia went to get down from the barstool, she grabbed onto the bar, realizing just how drunk she was.

  “One sec.” Aiden pointe
d a finger at her, opened a cooler, and pulled out an ice-cold bottle of Evian for Mia. “Drink this on your way home. I wouldn’t want you dehydrating in that heat.”

  “Thanks. Someone is going to need to feed those kids dinner, I’m too wasted to do anything but crawl into bed.”

  Aiden laughed. “I’m on until eleven. I need to make a pot of coffee.”

  “And get some food into your stomach,” she called over her shoulder, staggering out of the bar.

  Standing behind the hostess stand, Sheila looked at Mia questioningly.

  Nodding, Mia smiled her devilish grin. “Okay, you can start letting people back in the bar now,” she told the older woman. “But I think you might need to get another bartender for the night and send this one home to sleep it off.”

  “I’ve already called Tommy.” Sheila winked at Mia.

  “Thanks,” Mia whispered.

  “Well done.”

  The two women exchanged a hopeful look.

  Great news. My therapist recommended a colleague she’s previously worked with and highly recommends. He’s right in Bay Shore and his receptionist told me he had a cancellation this week for a two-hour intake/session at 10 a.m. on Wednesday. Can you make it? She hoped he was still committed and it wasn’t just the alcohol talking the afternoon before.

  Wow. This week. Yes. I’ll take it. What do I need to do? Who do I need to call?

  Mia texted him the information. Aiden, I’m really proud of you.

  I haven’t done anything yet.

  Oh, but you have. And what you’ve done may be one of the hardest parts. She pointed out.

  Something you said to me the other day keeps playing over and over again in my head. Kind of like a mantra.

  What is that? They had talked about so much and were quite drunk. She wasn’t sure how much or what was actually going to resonate with him. Or that he would actually remember.

  You said, it depends how much you want it.

  Keep asking yourself that question.

  I will.

  ☺ I hope things go well on Wednesday and you like this guy.

  I’ll let you know, okay.

  She was glad he was willing to keep her in the loop. That was certainly his choice and she would have respected it either way.

  I look forward to it. She waited a moment and then sent a final text. I know I said it earlier, Aiden, but I am really, really proud of you.

  An appointment this week. Not bad for a morning’s work, Mia thought to herself, before diving into a string of emails from Seth and Kami.

  With the kids in summer camp and Schooner back in the city until the weekend, Mia spent the remainder of the morning taking advantage of the rare calm and quiet to focus on a client proposal that was due at the end of the week.

  Three hours had passed when Holly knocked on the door.

  “I just made a huge salad. Do you want me to bring you up a bowl?”

  Mia stretched in her chair. “Oh, excellent. Thank you. I need to get away from this PC for a bit, so I’ll come down and join you.”

  As Holly grabbed the salad from the counter, Mia took two bowls to the long, rough-hewn driftwood table. Placing a bowl next to her stepdaughter’s laptop, she noticed a piece of paper with a list of PTSD symptoms.

  “Are you researching PTSD?” Mia asked, sitting down.

  “I was just looking at the different symptoms to see how many I’d observed in Aiden.”

  “And?” Mia immediately felt guilty that she couldn’t share with Holly the conversation she had with Aiden. It had to come from Aiden, but she was torn in protecting one person’s trust, she was potentially jeopardizing another’s.

  “Well, I haven’t been around him enough, but I think there’s quite a few that would substantiate it.” She pressed a key on her keyboard, waking her screen. “Okay, so here’s what it says. The first area they talk about is reliving the event. I don’t know if he does that. I’m assuming he probably does, but also in that category it talks about having intense and discomforting reactions to objects or situations that remind you of the event. Well, we know he has that. The fireworks on July 4th practically did him under.”

  “Wow. What else does it say? By the way, this dressing is delicious.”

  “Thanks. I used the Meyer’s lemons, garlic, and that champagne mustard Henry and Seth brought us.” She scrolled down the page on her screen. “Okay, so the next section is about people and places and feeling emotional detachment. I’d say yes to this one since we know he avoided the Maguire’s gang for months and months. He even came out here and didn’t stop in to see anyone.”

  “Yeah, I would check that box, too,” agreed Mia.

  “Loss of interest in everyday activities. I don’t really know. Feelings of hopelessness. Not sure about that one either.” Holly continued to scroll.

  “If he truly has PTSD, which I suspect he might just based on what we know he’s been through, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has feelings of hopelessness.” Mia focused on her salad, pretending she was digging for certain things mingled in with the bibb lettuce and finally settling on a large chunk of gorgonzola cheese.

  Shaking her head, Holly grimaced, as if a physical blow had been landed. “That makes me so sad to think that.”

  “Hopefully he’s getting the help he needs and will come out the other end of this okay. Aiden is a strong man.”

  “I hope so.” Her eyes didn’t leave the computer screen as she ate. “Hyperarousal.” Holly smiled for the first time and looked at Mia. “And they don’t mean that in the good way.”

  “What a shame.” Mia looked amused.

  “I know. Right?” She kept reading. “Well, this fits, too. It talks about being easily startled. And I’ve seen that firsthand.”

  “Although we are not mental health professionals, I’d say based on a combination of several factors, it’s safe for us to assume Aiden is suffering from some degree of PTSD. And he, for sure, does not have an easy road in front of him.”

  “I don’t even know how to deal with this, Mia. On one hand, I want to go to him and convince him to let me in to help him. And then I think how many times do I need for him to tell me that he doesn’t want me before I start believing him?”

  “You know I have felt from the start that Aiden did this as some grand gallant gesture and was actually doing it, breaking up with you, etcetera, out of love. I have always thought that.” She wasn’t telling Holly anything they hadn’t discussed before her recent conversation with Aiden. “And I think what happened to him overseas just solidified that for him, really making him believe that he’s doing the right thing in distancing himself from you and not burdening you with what is a really heavy load for him.”

  “Mia, I wouldn’t have walked away.”

  “I know, sweetie. And that was his big fear. He didn’t want you to stay out of obligation.”

  “But I wouldn’t be. I’d be staying out of love.”

  “I know you would. But in his mind, he feels unlovable and can’t even fathom that you would be by his side by choice.”

  “How could he not know how much I love him?”

  “Somewhere in there he does, Holly. And that’s why he wants you to walk away and find happiness with someone who doesn’t carry the baggage that he does.”

  They ate in silence for a few moments, Holly continuing to scroll through PTSD info on her laptop.

  “Speaking of Aiden,” Mia began, “The kids wanted to go to Maguire’s for steamers tonight.”

  “Would you mind if I didn’t join you? I’m just too emotional right now to see that waitress flirting with him.”

  “We could go someplace else,” Mia offered.

  “No. Take them there. Natie and Po love their steamers. And there’s plenty of food in the house for me to eat.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Holly sighed. “Yes. No. Maybe. As much as I want to see him and talk to him, I think it’s best I don’t go.”

  “I understand.” Mia wanted
to tell her, just wait for him, he wants this badly enough, he wants you badly enough, but she couldn’t betray Aiden’s confidence.

  “Mom, I’m old enough to go pee by myself.”

  Mia’s head snapped to attention at her daughter’s eye roll. The future was coming too fast, way too fast, as actions like this reminded her that her two little ones were not so little any longer and a teenage daughter was going to be in her future sooner than she’d ever be ready for it.

  “Go to the bathroom and come straight back,” she instructed Portia and remained at the table to watch Nathaniel.

  As she skipped past the bar, Aiden looked up and waved at her. Smiling, she waved back and headed toward the restroom. After her dad, Aiden was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, but now he was no longer at their house all the time, and she missed him swinging her around, playing airplane with her.

  Passing by the bar on her way back to the table, Aiden smiled at her again and waved for her to come in.

  “I thought you and Natie might like these.” He slid two Shirley Temples across the bar to her.

  “Is the one with two cherries mine?” Portia was all smiles and giggles around her crush.

  “Do you even need to ask?”

  “No.” She laughed.

  “Can you carry those both or do you need a hand. I might have filled them too much.”

  “I’m okay.” She took a sip from hers and then a sip from her brother’s to ensure she wouldn’t spill them.

  “If you had a third hand, I’d send something for your dad. But you don’t have a third hand.”