Killing Me Softly

by Devyn Dawson

  “What’s wrong? Is it your dad?”

  “Yeah, my Aunt Laney sent me a text and told me to meet her at the hospital. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’ll take you to your car, but I’m going to follow you to the hospital to make sure you get there safely.”

  “You don’t need to, I don’t want your night ruined because of me.”

  “I’ll go to the dump and have a good time if I’m hanging out with you. This night has been great, I love being around you.”

  “Thank you, I’ve had a great time with you too. Okay, you can follow me, but don’t get a ticket,” I say.

  “Challenge accepted. I won’t get a ticket, but does that mean you’re a speed demon? This truck is more than capable of taking on your Hemi.”

  I can’t help smiling back at him. “I might have a lead foot.”

  ***

  The parking lot is mostly empty, except for a random car here and there. My aunt has told me stories of people being abducted from this mall in the nineteen-seventies. She said, that is why there are security officers on the roof, to patrol the activities in the parking areas. A couple of years ago, a girl was taken from another mall. She was on her cellphone talking to her boyfriend when someone grabbed her. Her body was found a week later. I have a can of mace on my key-chain and my cell ready to call 911 when I come out here alone.

  Tate pulls up to my car and comes around to open the door for me.

  “Holland, be careful. I’ll be behind you,” his arms go around my waist and hugs me. If I could just bottle this feeling up and take it out whenever I’m feeling alone, I could be a millionaire.

  My ear is directly over his heart as he squeezes me a little tighter. The even thumping reminds me how short life is, and how Andy’s light went out too soon.

  “I’ll be careful.” His hand gently moves to my face, my heart beats wildly in the center of my chest. I look up at him, wanting more, wanting his mouth on mine. His thumb glides across my bottom lip, like he’s debating if he should kiss me or not. Kiss me! My heart is surely about to explode at the intensity of his look.

  “If everything is okay with your Dad, can I see you tomorrow?”

  The cinnamon from the gum he had at the bar tickles my nose as he talks. “I’ll text you.” Come on! Kiss me!

  His hand goes to the back of my head and he closes the gap between us. It started out gentle but hunger for more takes over. My heart is wildly thumping as his hands caress my back. My hands grip onto the back of his shirt, what I’m feeling is real. We’re real. We’re alive and God I want it to last, but all things must end. I pull away. His eyes are heavily hooded and I know he wasn’t ready to finish the kiss. We both know I have to leave, but neither of us want to leave this moment.

  “Drive carefully,” He whispers.

  “Okay,” Is all I’m able to say.

  ***

  My leather seats are still warm from the afternoon sun. I turn up my stereo as loud as I can without blowing my speakers, and drive to the highway.

  Paramore blasts in my ears as I pull into the hospital emergency room parking. Tate blocks in my car as he waits for me to get out. I walk over to the truck, he rolls down the window and I’m blasted with cold air.

  “You’re a lunatic. A cute lunatic, but a lunatic nonetheless,” He says.

  “Who me? I like to think of it as my spaceship and I’m headed for another universe.”

  “Okay, Martian Holland, you drive like a crazed person. Text me and let me know everything’s okay. Thank you for going with me tonight.”

  “Good night, I had a good time, thank you.” Without warning, I step up on his little step for the truck and lean in to kiss him.

  “Mmmm, thank you.”

  I jump off and start for the ER doors. Tate, the gentleman he is, waits until I’m safely inside before driving away.

  ***

  Chapter Seven. Truth

  “You had him committed? I’m his guardian, how were you able to commit him?” I ask Aunt Laney.

  “Honey, he was a danger to himself. When he couldn’t reach you, he freaked out. He called me and started talking nonsense about how he was going to hurt himself. Holland, you can’t leave him alone for hours. Where were you? He said you were working, but I called up there and they said you left with a guy. Holland, that’s so irresponsible of you,” Aunt Laney scolded.

  “Hold up, I’m allowed to live. I told him about my date after work. It isn’t as though he’s a child who can’t be left alone. He’s on new medication and has been very happy. Well, maybe not very, but he’s been better.” Dammit Dad! I want a real life.

  “Are you sure he’s taking his meds?”

  “Aunt Laney, I give him the pills, he takes them. I don’t sit there and make sure he’s swallowed them, no. What all did he say? Can I see him?”

  Aunt Laney is normally done up with her fancy outfits and perfect poofy hair, tonight she’s in jeans and an oversized button down shirt. I’m sure it’s something of my Uncle’s. “They’re sedating him and once he’s calmed down, they’ll let us see him. He’s convinced himself that the guy you’re seeing is in the military and you’re going to leave him.”

  “He hasn’t met Tate, I haven’t said anything about him to my dad. Yes, he’s military, but I wouldn’t tell my dad. Why does he hate the military so much? What if I fall in love with any guy and they have a job in another state? Tate’s an air traffic controller and they mostly stay at the base they get stationed at originally. It isn’t as though we’re getting married. I just started seeing him. Yes, I like him. I like him more than I’ve liked anyone in a long time.”

  Aunt Laney puts her arm around my shoulders. She’s just a little taller than me, nothing significant. “We can put him in a home. Before you say anything, I want you to think about it, you would be free. Imagine having the chance to live as you want, date who you want, and not have to be responsible for him.”

  I shake my head no. “You know I can’t do that. He’s my dad. If he were in his right mind, he wouldn’t act this way.”

  “No, you’re right, he wouldn’t. You’re not turning your back on him, you’re giving him the chance to be healed.”

  “He won’t get healed, he’ll be treated like an animal and locked up every night. I can’t…I just can’t.”

  “At least think about it.”

  “I won’t change my mind.” I go over and make a cup of coffee with their Keurig machine.

  Twenty minutes later, a doctor comes out to talk to us. He tells me he has him on a seventy-two hour hold. They’re going to adjust his medication to include another anti-anxiety med. If he doesn’t have any improvement, they’ll keep him on a day to day basis. He tells me that family support must be available to him if he will be sent home. He hands me a stack of pamphlets for hiring nurses to come out to the house and help when I go out. Another one talks about suicide and how to avoid it as best as possible. It’s been so long since he was suicidal that I’d almost forgotten the stress it had me under.

  Aunt Laney and I went in to see him together. He was asleep from the sedative. Instead of disturbing him, we left the hospital with the envelope full of information.

  “Holland, think about what we discussed. You deserve a normal life. Call me if you need anything. I’ll stop by in a few days.” We hugged and walked to our cars alone.

  Like a beacon of light, Tate’s truck is parked next to me. He has his Kindle out, I assume he’s reading. I tap on his window.

  “You’ve been out here this whole time?” I ask.

  He closes his Kindle case and looks at me sheepishly. “Actually, I left and headed back to the dorms, but something told me you might need to talk, so I came back.”

  “What were you going to do if I didn’t come out?”

  “Possibly run out of gas. No, seriously, I was going to wait another hour, if you hadn’t come out, I was going to go home. Let’s go have coffee.”

  In less than three minutes, my stress h
as rolled off my shoulders. Spending time with Tate, talking, was going to be a much needed therapy. “I might stick to decaf, but yeah. I’ll meet you at Waffle Shack.”

  The windows of Waffle Shack are fogged over. They usually keep the place at artic cold. Tonight is no different. We pick a booth at the back of the restaurant, the furthest from an air vent. Our waitress comes over and tells us the paper place-mat on the table is our menu and asked what we would like to drink. We both order decaf.

  “Is everything okay with your dad?” Tate asks and reaches across the table for my hand.

  “Yes…” pause, “No. You’ll never want to see me again if I tell you,” I shake my head trying to clear away that thought.

  “Whatever is wrong with your dad, is no reflection on you. If you’re married, that might deter me away.”

  “Might?”

  “You’re a hot tamale, it would be hard not to duel a husband for your heart.”

  I laugh and he smiles at me. “What kind of book were you reading? Duel? You’re funny.”

  “In all seriousness, talk to me. I won’t judge you, I promise.” His pale blue eyes melt my defenses down.

  I let out a sigh and decide to spill my guts. “I told you that my mom left when I was thirteen, I didn’t tell you why. My dad worked for a large advertising firm in downtown Oklahoma City. He had gone to a convention and I’m not sure what happened, but he ended up losing his job and unable to get another one. We lived a comfortable life. We lived in a nice neighborhood, had new clothes, and we took regular camping trips. I was ten or eleven when he lost his job. Mom was thirty, she had me when she was nineteen. She took on two jobs but she had never gone to college and didn’t have a degree. She worked for Sonic and a place in the mall. We moved out of our house and moved into the house I live in now. I guess my mom wanted more, so she left. Since I was the only one at home, I started to realize my dad was different. Before I knew it, he was labeled as mentally ill.” The waitress comes over with a basket of biscuits and jelly. Carbs and coffee, heaven.

  Tate sits back in his seat, his hand pulled away and he’s shaking his head. I knew not to say anything. My one shot of having a real boyfriend, someone I could confide in, gone in two minutes. This is it, he’s going to walk away. Better now, before things got too deep. I’m so glad I didn’t have sex with him.

  “God, Holland, you’ve been through so much. You’ve carried this by yourself? I’m sure Sam isn’t any help. I’m so sorry you’ve had to grow up so fast. At the same time, it makes me understand why you’re so mature. No matter what happens between us, I’ll be here for you. You have no idea how bad I want to gather you in my arms and run away to protect you from this drama.” He leaned forward and took both of my hands in his. They’re warm against my frozen fingers. For once, I was wrong. I didn’t scare him away.

  I shrug my shoulders, I’d never sat down and thought about how it all happened. What was it that got my dad fired? “That isn’t all. My best friend, her name was Andy. She died in a car accident last Labor Day weekend.” There, I said it out loud. “It was her mom that I went to see last weekend.”

  Tate pulled my hand, forcing me to stand up and he tugged me down onto his lap. “I have no idea what to say, but I’ll tell you this, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. At nineteen, you’ve seen more than many people twice your age.” His arms around me tighten and the edge of the table digs into my ribcage, but I don’t care. We might look silly, right now, it isn’t my problem.

  Don’t cry.

  “Tell me about her. You must have been a good friend to her for her mom to want you to visit.”

  I don’t check to see if anyone is staring at us. It isn’t as though there’s tons of people here to judge us. “Andy and I met in middle school. Kids are cruel and Andy stood up for me. She was privileged and had the best parents a kid could want. In her head, we weren’t different. When she died, a part of me was ripped away. Her mom and I went through her things last weekend, which was tough. They want me to have all of her things. At first, I was against it, but a strange sense of calmness comes over me when I use her things. Instead of pain, it brings back memories. The outfit I have on tonight was hers. I was with her when she bought it, and that day was a typical Andy day. She had little contests with herself to buy the first thing she tries on, regardless of how it looks on her. Most of the time, she picks the right things, other times, I had to shake my head back and forth and laugh.” I stop for a minute to work out the need to cry.

  “That’s terrible. Do you ever dream about her? When my grandpa died, I had dreams about him almost every night. He would say things to encourage me to stay good. I only dream about him now and then.”

  A couple who came in a few minutes ago, look at us like we’re crazy. “Yes, I dream about her all the time. It’s always like a visit, we talk and then a train comes and we say good-bye all over again.”

  Tate’s hand massages my back, the human contact is almost too much. Andy was a hugger with the obsessive need to hug over everything. She would hug if something was wrong, if something was right, when you walked in the door, when you walked out the door. I gave her a two hug a day limit. She paid me back with a long marathon hug. Those are the things that leave a void in my heart.

  “It sounds like you were more than friends, you were family.”

  Unable to swallow the lump in my throat, I nod in agreement. The tears threaten to spring a leak, but once they fall, the flood gates won’t be able to hold me back.

  “I better get home. Thank you for tonight,” I whisper to him. “I wasn’t sure what you would do when you found out how broken I am.”

  “You’re not broken, and even if you are, I’m here to mend your broken soul. Holland, I know this sounds crazy, but I have this incredible pull to you. If I can see you tomorrow,” he looks at his watch, “actually later today, text me and let me know. My friend Don and his wife are having a cookout and invited me plus one. I’d like you to be my plus one.”

  “I’ll text you,” I say. “Good night, Tate.”

  “Good night, Holland.” He drops a twenty on the table for our coffee and biscuits and we walk out into the humid night.

  ***

  GOOD MORNING BEAUTIFUL! CAN YOU GO WITH ME TONIGHT? I MISS YOU ALREADY. 7:05 am

  SEVEN ISN’T REALLY SLEEPING IN. I’M GOING TO THE HOSPITAL TO TALK TO HIS DOCTOR. YOU CAN PICK ME UP THERE AT SIX. YOU MISS ME? 9:12 am

  I DO MISS YOU. 7 IS LATE IF YOU’RE USED TO GETTING UP AT 4:30. I WILL SEE YOU AT SIX. DRESS IS CASUAL TONIGHT. I HOPE YOU LIKE SMORES. 9:13 am

  SMORES? I LOVE SMORES! BFF 4 EVER. 9:15 am

  BFF 4 EVER! WOOT! 9:16 am

  GOTTA GO TTYL 9:17 am

  SEE YOU AT SIX. 9:17 am

  Thankfully, I showered before bed last night. One day I’ll learn to dry my hair before going to sleep. The mirror agrees.

  The house is eerily quiet as I go into the kitchen for some Frosted Mini-Wheats. I pour a giant bowl and sit down at my dad’s laptop which he left unlocked. This might lead to a clue as to what sent him over the edge. From his browsing history I see he looked up information about Star Wars, he checked QVC, but then I see what he saw. I hadn’t signed out of Facebook the other night when I used his laptop, he saw a picture of Tate. That’s how he knows he’s military. Under the About section, it shows, US Air Force. No wonder he wigged out. I shouldn’t have been so careless.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. A text from Tate.

  I STILL MISS YOU. 9:55 am

  YOU’RE JUST SITTING AROUND PINING FOR ME? 9:57 am

  I’M GOING OUT FOR A RIDE. I WISH YOU WERE RIDING WITH ME. DO YOU WANT ME TO BRING MY BIKE TONIGHT? I HAVE A HELMET FOR YOU. 9:58 am

  SOUNDS LIKE FUN IF IT ISN’T RAINING. 9:59 am

  NOT RAINING. SEE YOU LATER. XOXO 10:00 am

  TATE – YOU WORRY ME. XOXO 10:01 am

  Dad wasn’t available. I asked the charge nurse to let me see his chart. When I filed for his guardianship, it gave m
e the rights to go over his charts. Since he’s mentally ill, I’ve become familiar with medication and terminology used in his treatment. Because he’s partially functioning, I give him privacy regarding his therapy sessions. My biggest fear is to read things about sexual frustrations or anything else a daughter shouldn’t know.

  The nurse who brought the chart over to me sets it down on the table with a smack. “Don’t remove anything from the chart,” she demands with an east coast accent.

  “No problem,” I flash her a smile to show she didn’t bother me.

  After spending an hour reading his chart, I take out a piece of paper and write out a note for the doctor. I learned that if you leave a note for them in the chart, they typically will reply in writing. The doctor’s notes said my dad’s psychotic episode was still going on when he woke up realizing he was committed. The last time he was this messed up in the head, he spent two weeks in the hospital. I was a senior in high school and a few colleges were sending me info for scholastic scholarships to attend their school. After his breakdown, I decided to take online college courses. Aunt Laney was furious with him, that’s when she quit talking to him on a regular basis. Sometimes I wish I had thrown out my fears and gone away to college.

  I still had a little over an hour to waste before Tate will be here. As I pass the hospital gift shop, I see a group of kids hovering around the Mother’s Day section. It takes me great amounts of self-control not to audibly growl, instead I stare straight ahead. The snack bar area has a couple of nurses eating frozen yogurt and laughing about something a doctor did at a benefit party. I punch in the code for a twist cone and watch as the machine automatically makes me a chocolate vanilla cone, with a fancy swirl and everything.

  A child walking by with their mother points my direction and begs for one of those! Before I had a job, I would covet treats too. Sure, food stamps would buy a treat every now and then. However, I had to figure out how to make thirty days’ worth of food out of two-hundred dollars in food stamps. Now that I’m over eighteen, dad qualifies for one hundred and ten dollars worth. When Aunt Laney remembers, she puts money on the prepaid card, but I don’t count on it. Dad can cook a couple of things, anything frozen and hot dogs. We eat a lot of sandwiches and soup. Aunt Laney bought me a crock-pot and introduced me to the world of easy cooking. During the winter, I make stew and vegetable soup to go with our grilled cheese. Dad eats almost anything but he’s especially partial to fast food fries. As a treat, I’ll splurge on fast food. Between his social security and my job, we have enough to pay the bills and that’s it. My phone buzzes.