Deepest Scars: A Being Me Stand-Alone Companion Novel

by Tricia Copeland

  I clasp her hands and kiss her. When we part, her smile returns. “You didn’t plan this whole thing? Bring me on a trip to ask me to date you, did you?”

  “Right.” I roll my eyes. “Bring you to my aunt’s house with my cousins fighting over whether they have to go to synagogue.”

  “I guess you have a point.” She loops her arm through mine as we continue our walk.

  “So, I think we’re stuck in the same room. It’s my grandfather’s room, and he’s bunking with Neal. If he moves back, I’m with Neal and you’re with Tabitha.

  “I think I’ll take my chances with you.”

  “I can sleep on the floor.”

  “You’re not sleeping on the floor. We can share a bed like two adults.”

  My mind wanders through adult sleeping arrangements, but I make myself focus on the present moment. Hand in hand, we follow the looping path to the house. Inside we sit in the foyer with Heather, Grant, and Papa. Aunt Heather tries to pepper Liz with questions, but I divert her attention as best I can. Papa grills me about the D-back players and whether I think they can win the World Series.

  As it nears ten, Papa excuses himself to turn in, and I do the same. I follow Liz down the hall to our room.

  “This is weird. It’s like we’re admitting having sex out of wedlock.”

  “Everyone does it.” I make bug eyes at her.

  “Funny.” She slaps my stomach. “Mind if I get ready for bed first?”

  “Nope.” I fall back onto the bed, reclining my arm behind my head. Finding the remote, I switch on the TV. Watching out of the corner of my eye, I see her find what looks like pajamas and a toiletry bag. She crosses into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her.

  Surfing through the channels, I stop on an old James Bond movie. When Liz exits the restroom, she’s wearing pajama pants and a zip-up hoodie. She stashes her bag and lies beside me.

  “I love James Bond.”

  “And I like you even more now.” I turn my head to face her, and the scent of her hair and lotion engulf my senses. Lying beside her all night is going to be hard. I kiss her on the head and spin off the bed.

  “I’m brushing my teeth.”

  I grab my toiletries, a pair of shorts, and a fresh t-shirt and head to the bathroom. I decide to shower and start the water. When I finish, I exit to an empty room. I start to the bedroom door and catch sight of Liz sitting on the floor.

  “Oh, hey. Thought you’d gone for some food or something.”

  She closes a book. “No, just reading.”

  “No problem. Don’t stop on my account.” I return to my position on the bed.

  She joins me. “You smell good.”

  I turn my head to face her. “I hope you didn’t stop on my account.”

  “No, it’s this poem book I like.”

  It feels odd lying beside her and not touching. I snake my arm around her shoulders, and she rests her head on my chest. Although I love the feel of her next to me, I’m nervous she senses my increased heart rate. I try to relax. She rests her hand and on my stomach, and her fingers feel like flames even through my shirt.

  “It’s late. We should probably get some sleep.” I lift her hand from my chest.

  “Yeah.” She hops up and lifts the covers.

  I do the same and start to slide under them.

  “You’re sleeping in your shorts?”

  “Well, the only other thing I have is underwear, so…” I pan my eyes to the ceiling and back to hers.

  Her face is blood red, and she puts her hand to her cheek. “Shorts then, I guess.”

  “Are you cold? Do you need another blanket?”

  “No, I’ll be good in this.” Her hand goes to her zipper.

  “Good.” I proceed to climb in bed.

  Sleep doesn’t come for over an hour as I watch her chest rise and fall. The next morning, light from the window wakes me early. I dress and make my way to the kitchen.

  “You’re up early,” Uncle Grant looks at me over his coffee.

  “We can have coffee?”

  “This isn’t supposed to be torture, not completely anyway.”

  Aunt Heather sets a slice of bread in front of me. “Liz is welcome to anything she wants. Make sure she’s comfortable.”

  After toast and a few sips of coffee, I pour a cup for Liz and take it to the room.

  “Oh sorry.” Seeing her pull a top over her head, I close the door quickly.

  Within a few seconds, she opens the door. “Decent now,” she whispers.

  “I’m sure you were more than decent before.” I hold the mug up.

  “Thank you.” She takes the cup and sniffs the hot liquid.

  “I wasn’t sure if you liked it black or just drank it that way when we were camping.”

  “I like a little milk, but this is fine.”

  I tell her about breakfast and the plan for the rest of the day. She says she’ll be comfortable staying behind when we go to synagogue. We join the family in the kitchen. Tabitha and Neal are dressed for school and dash out the door after coffee.

  “Tell me about the Grand Canyon trip,” Papa insists.

  We tell him about rafting and the hikes, and Liz gets her tablet to show him the pictures.

  “You took these?” He points at me.

  “I’m trying my hand at it.”

  Aunt Heather indicates we should dress for synagogue, and I go change. When I exit the bathroom, Liz is lying on the bed.

  “You look so cute in your Kippah.”

  “Don’t make fun of me.” I put my hand to the cap. “I’m impressed you know what it’s called.”

  “From New Jersey, remember? Stereotype is pretty much dead on.”

  Kissing Liz on the forehead, I leave her watching a movie. When I return, she’s in nearly the same position.

  “Enjoy your three hours of quiet?” I kiss the top of her head as I lower myself to her side.

  “I did.” She turns over.

  “So, you’ve been a couch potato while I was bearing my soul?”

  She sits up smiling. “No, I ran, showered, and ate, so I didn’t have to torture you with seeing me eat.”

  “I appreciate that.” Leaning in, I kiss her lips.

  “Zack.” She cuts her eyes to the half-open door.

  “Sorry.” I use my foot to push it closed.

  “You’re seriously a long man.”

  “What? Long?”

  “Look at your appendages?”

  I stand up. “I’m tall. Men aren’t long. Look at you, you have decent-length appendages for a female.” I reach for her arm, and she rolls off the bed to the other side of the room. “Okay, that’s it. War.” Jumping at her, I miss as she lunges away. Using my other arm, I hook her around the waist. “All the better to capture you with, my pretty.”

  Her giggles fill the room. “So, are you a giant or a witch?”

  “I’m a giant wizard. And you’re under my spell.” I hover over her.

  Hand to my chest, she pushes me away. “Fortunately for me, I’m a fairy and immune to spells of any kind.”

  “Obviously.” I roll my eyes. “I like fairies though, so tasty.” I kiss her wrist and hold her arm up, planting kisses all the way to her shoulder. I’m about to kiss her neck when she jumps back.

  “Is this really appropriate behavior for you aunt’s house at two in the afternoon on Rosh Hashanah?”

  I stick out my bottom lip. “I have to have something to distract me from being hungry.”

  She looks at her watch. “Only four and a half more hours. Let’s go socialize.”

  “Do we have to?” I take her hand as she walks to the door.

  “You’re really cranky when you’re hungry, aren’t you? Such a baby.” She smiles back at me.

  We play chess and rummy with Heather, Grant, and Papa. Heather stops us before we start a game of poker. She and Liz retreat to the kitchen to prepare dinner. I chat with Grant and Papa, checking in on Liz occasionally. At six, Uncle Grant breaks o
ut the wine, making the hunger more bearable. I’m guessing the alcohol consumption is timed with the smells wafting from the kitchen.

  “I’m going nuts.” I wrap my arms around Liz’s waist as she stirs a pot.

  When she turns her head to glare at me, her face is blood red. I release my grasp. “Sorry, something about a woman cooking drives me mad.”

  “And maybe you had a little too much wine on an empty stomach?” she whispers.

  “Maybe.” I swirl my glass and down the last swallow. Bending down so we are eye to eye, I turn her chin so she has to face me. “I’m sorry. Was that out of line?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Apology accepted.”

  “Good.” I smile. “Put me to work.”

  Aunt Heather loads me up with plates, and I begin setting the table. By the time I’m finished, Tabitha and Neal arrive, and Uncle Grant and Papa start to circle the table.

  “What time is sunset?” Grant lifts his wrist to view his watch.

  I slide my phone from my back pocket. “Says six forty-four.”

  “Woman,” Uncle Grant yells, “sunset’s in five minutes.”

  Heather comes through the door carrying a platter holding a roasted chicken. “Oh, my goodness, you would never know you have enough fat around your middle to feed a starving child in Africa for a year.”

  “Ahh, you know I was kidding, but it’s true.” Grant pats his stomach. “I could lose a couple of pounds.”

  Their banter reminds me of my parents, and I smile. Within minutes, the table is loaded with food, and we sit down to eat. Uncle Grant begins with the traditional prayers and blessings. After he’s finished, Neal is the first to lift the serving fork for the chicken.

  “Did you fast today?” Aunt Heather inquires.

  “No.” His eyes drop, and he hands the serving utensil to Papa.

  As our bellies fill, the conversation starts to flow.

  Uncle Grant lifts his glass. “To family, this wonderful meal, and my beautiful wife.” He looks at Heather. “Thank you.”

  Everyone raises a glass in salute. When we finish, I help Tabitha, Neal, and Grant clear the table and clean the kitchen. Finding Aunt Heather and Liz in the living room, I take a chair across from them.

  “Your mom sent me this.” Heather passes her tablet to me. On the screen, I see my fraternity house with an ambulance parked out front, lights reflecting off the windows. The scene cuts to students standing on the front lawn holding candles.

  “Northwestern University held its second annual Light Up the Night event this evening,” the commentator started.

  I hand the device back to Heather. “Cool.”

  “Wasn’t it your friend who was attacked? What was her name, Amanda?”

  “Yeah, wow, I forgot the anniversary was this week.” The image of Amanda’s pale face, swollen bloody cheek, and limp body plays through my head.

  Standing, I point down the hall. “I’m going to freshen up a bit.” I make my way to the bedroom.

  When I come out of the bathroom, Liz is waiting on the bed. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it? I didn’t realize that Amanda was the girl at Northwestern. I remember seeing it on the news last year.”

  “Yeah.” I sit on the bed. “Type of thing that makes your blood run cold.” I shiver involuntarily.

  “I’m really sorry.” Liz stands and put her hand on my arm.

  “Do you want to get some air, go for a walk? I could do with some exercise.”

  “That sounds good.”

  We let my aunt know we’re heading out and find the trail we’d taken the day before. Heading in the other direction, we walk side by side.

  “I’m sorry about before and the hugging thing.”

  She wraps her hand around my arm and slides it down to my fingers. “You’re a physically affectionate person. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “But, you’re not so much.”

  “It’s not that I’m not. I am on a slower time frame than you.”

  “That’s fine. I can wait.” I smile at her.

  It’s hard to sleep again, and I fight moving too much. I make a mental note to get in a good workout the next day. Rising early, I change quietly and slip out the door. I’m in the kitchen chugging water, when Liz comes in, dressed in running clothes.

  “Dodging me?” She puts her hand to her hip.

  “Didn’t want to wake you early on your vacation.”

  “I’m a morning person. I stopped fighting it years ago.”

  “Good to know. Want to head out?” I set my half-full glass on the counter.

  She lifts it and puts it to her lips, chugging the rest of it.

  All my anxiety about the previous day’s hug is lifted in those two little tidbits she’d given me. One, she’s a morning person, a fact I’m guessing not everyone knows about her, and two, she isn’t a germaphobe, or at least has decided my germs are an acceptable risk.

  Exiting the house, we start a slow jog.

  “So, you’re really okay with the Amanda thing? I didn’t realize it happened at your fraternity house.”

  “Yeah, I mean, it still makes me mad and sad, I guess, but yeah, I’ve moved on.”

  Running half an hour out, we stretch and circle back to the house. Inside, I let her get a shower first and hang in the kitchen with the family. Heather and Grant head out to work. I review the day’s plans with Papa, and he says us young ones should go have fun without him slowing us down. The next two days we spend touring the city, exploring the sea caves by kayak, and taking a ferry to Coronado Island for beach time and bike rides.

  “This was an amazing weekend, I had so much fun,” Liz comments as we take the stairs up to her apartment.

  “I’m glad. I really enjoyed it too.”

  “Back to reality, I guess.”

  “Yeah, it’s going to be a brutal week.” I rest my back on the wall as she unlocks her door.

  As I did after the Grand Canyon trip, I know I’m going to miss her, and I don’t want my time with her to end.

  Inside, she sets her bag down, and I set the suitcase beside it.

  “Back to reality.” She stuffs her hands in her back pockets.

  “When will I see you?” I tug at her arms and capture her hands in mine.

  “I’m working four, off Friday, and then three straight.”

  “I have games Monday through Wednesday. Thursday night?”

  “Let’s figure it out later in the week. I’m beat.”

  “Okay, maybe we can fit in lunch or a workout or something.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Okay.” I squeeze her hands and kiss her.

  “Someone is a happy muchaho,” Carlos teases as I empty my bag at his station the next night.

  “Was I whistling?”

  “You were, man. You got it bad, don’t you?”

  I cut my eyes to the supervisor making notes on a clipboard behind me. Pointing at him, I whisper to Carlos. “What’s with this guy?”

  “Oh, no worries, happens every September. They try to figure out staffing for next year. You’re good.” He slaps my arm. “I put in a good word for you.”

  Even with his pep talk, I’m nervous and focus on getting everything perfect. These long seasons are hard on the players, and the trainers always have extra work. It’s eleven before I leave the stadium. Liz and I messaged before work and at lunch. I’d messaged her between my shift and arriving at the stadium, and I open my text screen to see a reply.

  There are a couple texts in a series, and I’m bummed I couldn’t have my phone on. Her last text got sent twenty minutes prior and reads: I’M BEAT, SORRY WE DIDN’T GET TO TALK. TRY ME TOMORROW.

  I’m frustrated because I’m off Thursday and she’s off Friday, and I don’t have a single day at Mayo. I think about surprising her Friday night when I finish my twelve. A plan forms in my head, and I look up recipes as I wind down for the night.

  Tuesday and Wednesday pass in the same fashion. The worst part of the day fo
r me is in between my shift and the ball field. I want to tell her about my day, but I know she’s working. Plus, I miss volleyball night.

  On Thursday, I wake early and swing by the coffee place, so I’m sitting outside the hospital when she arrives. I note her tense eyes as she crosses the parking lot.

  She stops when she spots me. A smile spreads across her face as she approaches. “I have the best boyfriend.”

  “I know. Hey, you okay?”

  “I’m trying to focus on getting through this week.

  “Anything I can do? I could make us dinner tonight?”

  “I’m exhausted already.”

  “Okay, at least we can talk tonight, right?” I bend down so we are eye level.

  “Yes.” She pushes on my chest. “Now you should go back to sleep in solidarity. Thanks for the coffee.” She pushes to her toes gives me a quick peck on the lips.

  “Bye.” I smile and watch her walk away.

  “I didn’t see you on the schedule.” Mitchell’s voice invades my ears. His arm lands across my shoulders. “Seeing your woman?”

  “Something like that. Have a good day.” I duck out of his embrace.

  I head to the gym for a couple of hours of workout. Then, I catch up on shopping and housework, calls, and bills. I make dinner, go for a swim and then call Liz.

  We talk for about half an hour and then call it a night. The next morning, I’m up early for my twelve-hour shift. I wait till lunch break to text her. When I turn on my phone, she’s already messaged me.

  GOOD MORNING. HOPE YOU SLEPT WELL. LOOKING FORWARD TO A GOOD DAY OF R&R. GYM THEN NAPPING FOR ME.

  I tap in my reply while I wait in the sandwich line. GOOD NIGHT’S REST. ENJOY YOUR DAY OFF! MISS U! HOPE WE CAN PLAN TO GET TOGETHER SOON.

  Next, I message Jeff to see what’s up with him. I accept an invite to their get-together Saturday night. Then, I plan a basketball game with Mitchell for Sunday. When my shift ends, I head to the grocery store to pick up some food to grill.

  Passing through the produce department, I catch sight of an older gentleman juggling apples. A few of them topple to the ground as I pass. I reach down and catch one as it rolls to me.