Return to Us

by Corinne Michaels

  “She’ll never do anything about it. At least, I doubt she would because of those reasons. Also, Jack has made it abundantly clear he wants sex with zero expectations.”

  “Have you slept with Jack?” I ask. “When we were at the beach the first time, the two of you were gone for a very long time.”

  Delia snorts. “Eww! No. We kissed once when we were both drunk as hell at a party. It was fine, but also kind of like . . . weird.”

  Now this I want to hear. “Weird how?”

  “Like, he’s good at it, I guess, but it was . . . Jack. We both stopped, looked at each other, and burst out laughing. If that gives you any indication of what our passion level was.”

  I smile, trying to picture them together and failing to create a good image. “He deserves to be happy.”

  “He does, and hopefully, one day, he’ll allow himself to be. He talks about this girl he loved, but she’s gone and he’s tormenting himself over it.”

  “Losing someone you love is hard.”

  Delia raises a brow, staring at me. “You would know.”

  “I would.”

  “It took you a long time to let yourself be happy again.”

  “And it’s something I’m still learning to allow,” I admit.

  Some days, I feel as if being happy is a curse. I’ve felt loss, some of it was self-inflicted, but it was to protect myself from the pain of it not being on my terms. Which caused another version of suffering. All of it sucks, and thankfully, Dr. Warvel has helped me to see that.

  Things happen. Life isn’t easy, but the struggle allows the beauty to shine through. Without that pain, we wouldn’t know what joy feels like. I’m finding ways to endure them both and not let one determine the other.

  “Speaking of learning and your mental health”—Delia gets to her feet—“it’s time for your first appointment of the day.”

  “Yes, let’s go see the neurologist and hear that I still can’t drive.”

  “I feel like a lot has been changing for you since we began,” Dr. Warvel says. “It’s all been happening very rapidly, which isn’t a bad thing, but I’d like to gauge how you feel about it. Do you feel like things are going in the right direction?”

  “Yes. I mean, it’s all good things, right?”

  “It sounds like it, but I sense a bit of hesitation.”

  “I guess I’m just scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “Do you know when you get a gift that is everything you want? It’s perfect and no one can tarnish this present in your mind. Then, something happens, maybe it just isn’t functioning right. You still love it, but . . . there’s a pause when you think about it. I worry that’s how all of this, Grayson and me and being in Willow Creek, is going to go.”

  “How so?”

  Why does she make me answer everything I don’t want to? Sometimes, these sessions are insanely frustrating. I know that’s the whole point but isn’t there some saying about ignorance being bliss? I’d like some damn bliss please.

  I sigh, which sounds more like a groan. “Because! Hasn’t history shown that life . . . life doesn’t get to be perfect.”

  Dr. Warvel studies me for a moment. “Do you think he could be worried too? Maybe not the same fears, but that you’ll leave him?”

  “I know he does.”

  He tries to pretend, but I can see it. We’re waiting to tell Amelia, and there’s a part of me that thinks he’s hesitating just in case.

  In case today goes a certain way.

  In case . . .

  And now the case is true.

  “Well, Jessica, that’s the risk we take when we allow our hearts to be vulnerable. It’s scary, but it’s beautiful. Life and living are beautiful.” She changes topics. “Tell me about the headaches?”

  “Their frequency has dropped enough that they aren’t really an issue.” I can see her settling in to ask the next question, which is one I wish she would just forget about.

  “What about the nightmares?”

  That is the one area there is very little improvement, at least, not as much as I’d hoped. There is sometimes a reprieve, but it’s only on the nights when Grayson is there to keep them at bay.

  “Still reoccurring.”

  “And still as intense?”

  I nod. “Sometimes, I wake up and I can’t see. Like the concussion just happened, and my sight is gone for that minute. I have to fight to stay calm because I know it’s just that there’s no light in the room.”

  “Are you still writing them down?”

  “No,” I admit.

  Dr. Warvel purses her lips. “Okay, are you having them on the nights you’re with Grayson? If so, how is he handling them?”

  Well, crap. “I don’t . . . well, that’s to say I don’t know if I’m having them when I’m with him.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “There are times that I don’t remember if I wake up, and he doesn’t tell me.”

  She taps her pen on the notepad. “And you don’t ask him?”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  Sympathy fills her gaze. “I see.”

  What does she see? Because all I see is that I’m being a chicken shit. I should be dancing around the office that I’m doing better. There should be streamers and confetti instead of doom and gloom.

  “I am struggling today.”

  “What happened?”

  I was having a great day. Lunch with Delia was fantastic. And then . . .

  “Today was supposed to go one way, my appointment with the neurologist didn’t go as I expected.”

  I hear Dr. Havisham’s voice from two hours ago.

  “Well, it looks like everything is healing nicely,” my neurologist said.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yes, you haven’t had a fainting spell in over a month and your eyesight isn’t an issue either.”

  Delia took my hand, squeezing. “What does this mean for Jessica?”

  He wrote something on my chart and then looked up with a smile. “It means that she’s cleared to drive and return to her normal activities. You may still struggle with headaches, but you haven’t had one that has left you feeling too badly in a while. I think that, if you wanted to return to work, you could start with one short flight and see how it goes. If there aren’t any problems, then you can work your way up.”

  “I can fly?” I asked with breathless fear and anticipation.

  “I see no reason medically why you can’t. Your scans look great, and you’ve healed wonderfully. Your restrictions are lifted, and you can resume the life you had.”

  I got big news—great news—and yet, I feel like I was issued a death sentence.

  “What did the doctor say before you came here?”

  I turn my head away, feeling stupid. “I got cleared.”

  “That’s great, Jessica.”

  “Is it?”

  “You’re not sure,” she says with understanding, causing me to look up at her.

  “It means I can go. It means that . . . there’s nothing making me stay anymore. It’s my choice again. I didn’t expect that today. I thought I’d have another month of no driving and definitely no flying ever again.”

  “Do you want to return to your old job?” Dr. Warvel asks.

  “Yes and no. It’s not that I’m eager to return to the plane. God knows, I will probably be a damn mess. I honestly don’t care about that part. It’s that I didn’t think it was ever going to be an option, so I made peace with it because I found him again.”

  She nods in understanding. “Flying is what made you feel free, though. You said that a few times.”

  “I don’t want to be free.”

  Dr. Warvel moves her chair a bit closer. “Explain that.”

  “I want to be here. I want to be with Grayson and Amelia. We are going to tell her about us and make plans.”

  Her eyes are soft as she stares at me. “Why do you think that changes because you’re cleared?�
��

  Grayson has this thing about me wanting to fly and be away from Willow Creek Valley. He says how he knows I don’t want to be here. How clipping my wings will break me.

  He’s what makes me soar, not my job.

  “I just feel like he’ll push me away.”

  She nods. “I see, and that scares you because you want . . .”

  “I want him.”

  “Then tell him that, Jessica. Be honest and communicate because you two have been doing that very well. If you can be open and start off by saying how happy you are about being cleared but that it changes nothing about your desire to stay with him, then what can he say?”

  Maybe she’s right, but I don’t think that’s the case.

  Chapter 27

  Grayson

  There’s a knock at the door, and I’m hoping it’s Jessica. It’s been a rough few days. Amelia came down with some virus that had her running a fever, vomiting, and completely miserable for almost nine days.

  Then I got a call from my mother, who demanded I be at dinner next weekend, a dinner in which I am forbidden to walk out on and have been ordered to bring Jessica.

  I open the door, but it’s not Jess, it’s Jack. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, except I can smell the whiskey coming off of him in waves.

  “Did you know . . .” He slurs. “I don’t even want to like her.”

  “Like who?”

  “Her!” Jack yells and then slams his hand on the porch railing. “She’s insane.”

  “Most women are. How much have you had to drink?”

  He shrugs. “Don’t matter. It’s gone. She’s gone.”

  “Are you talking about Misty?”

  He shakes his head. “Not this time.”

  Considering my best friend hasn’t dated anyone since college, I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about, but it’s clear he’s a mess and needs to sleep.

  “Did something happen?”

  His eyes meet mine, and he leans against the railing, head resting on the side of the house. “Did you know that whiskey does not make you forget? I remember. I remember it all, and I remember that I shouldn’t remember.”

  Whiskey and I were very good friends for quite a while after I found out Yvonne was pregnant. I would’ve done the right thing by marrying her because we were heading that way regardless.

  She didn’t love me enough to try.

  She didn’t want a family with me because of her career.

  I found myself circling the drain, wondering how the fuck I kept doing this to myself.

  “What do you remember?” I ask, hoping to get a semi-coherent answer from him.

  Jack snorts. “Well, I wanted to forget.”

  Guess that’s not going to happen.

  “How about you come in, and we’ll get you a vitamin drink and a bed? Sleep might help you forget.”

  “I want no bed!” he declares. “I want to forget the bed. The bed is bad.”

  It’s clear there is a lot more to this, and I’m not going to get any of it with him drunk off his ass. “Okay, well, you can’t be out here, and if you wake Melia, I’ll kill you.”

  His face falls and then he whispers. “She’s not insane.”

  “Who?”

  “Melia. She’s the best.”

  “Yes, and she’s sleeping, so let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

  Jack nods, takes a step, and catches himself on the banister. “Oops. I’m falling again. I’m always falling and I never get up.”

  “Come on, buddy,” I say as I wrap my arm around his chest, trying to steady him as we walk.

  We get inside, and I take him straight to the guest room. I smile when I see Jess’s over-loved and oversized sweater in the corner from the last time she stayed the night. At night, she’s usually freezing and wraps herself up in it. I can’t bring myself to point out that the holes don’t help with warmth.

  “You’re always happy,” Jack says as I get him to the bed.

  “Yeah?”

  “You have Jess. I want that. I thought . . . I thought it was possible one time.”

  This wasn’t exactly the night I had planned, but I can’t remember the last time Jack was a mess like this. Not since . . . and then it hits me.

  The date.

  It’s the anniversary of his mother’s death.

  I sit beside him on the bed. “You’re sure this isn’t about a fire or someone you lost?”

  He shakes his head. “Not this time. It’s another girl and another time. Another loss.”

  I can usually understand Jack’s ramblings, but he’s got me totally lost this time. I have no idea what girl and what loss he’s going on about.

  “Talk to me, man. What the hell happened that caused you to drink a bottle of whiskey?”

  His eyes drift open and closed and a low sigh comes from him. “She likes me still, and I don’t want to like her. I can’t like her. I can’t be who she wants.”

  “Who is she?”

  Jack flops back on the bed, his legs still hanging over the side. Then I hear a loud snore come from his mouth. Great.

  I move him around so he’s at least on the bed and shove some pillows under his head. I shake my head, looking at my best friend who is going to hate himself in the morning.

  Once in my room, I grab my phone and video call Jess, needing to see her.

  “Hey,” she answers with a sleepy smile.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No, no.” Her voice is quiet, and it’s clear I did wake her. “How is Melia?”

  “Better, I think. Low fever today, but she was in a much better mood.”

  She smiles. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  “But, while I got one person on the mend, another showed up on my doorstep requiring aid.”

  “Oh?” she asks with surprise.

  “Yeah, Jack is passed out in the guest room—drunk. He kept talking about a girl, but won’t say her name.”

  Jess’s eyes widen just a touch. “That’s . . . wow. Who do you think it is?”

  There’s something going on that people are aware of, I can feel it. The tone in her voice says she isn’t telling me the truth. “Who is it, Jess?”

  “I have no idea. I’m just surprised.”

  I lean back in bed, watching her. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. Could it maybe be Delia? She mentioned something about him.”

  Now it’s my turn to react. “Delia? No. Not a chance.”

  “I know she was meeting him tonight.”

  “Shit. Then maybe it is.” I scratch my head. For him to be so torn up like that about her would be . . . strange. Delia has been in love with Joshua for as long as I can remember. Jack has never given any indication that he had feelings for her, but maybe it was her. If she shot him down, I could see him being pissed enough to drink a bottle.

  “Well, I’ll find out tomorrow when he sobers up. Anyway, how are you? I feel like we haven’t had any chance to talk.”

  Jess smiles warmly. “You’ve been a bit busy.”

  “Are you feeling neglected?” I say with a smirk.

  “No, Amelia comes first. I’m fine. Things are fine. I’ve been a little nauseous the last week, and I wonder if I’m not coming down with what Melia had.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I hate that she’s not feeling well. “Did you call the doctor?”

  “Grayson, it’s fine. I promise.” Jessica’s voice turns to laughter at the end.

  “Speaking of the doctor, when is your next appointment?”

  She smiles, but it looks a little forced. “Soon.”

  “How soon? If you want me to go with you, I will.”

  “No. You don’t need to.”

  It’s clear that she doesn’t want me there and I try not to let that bother me. “Jess, I want to be there with you.”

  “I appreciate that,” Jessica says, but her tone says otherwise. �
�I don’t have an appointment for a bit. I’ll let you know, though.”

  “Okay. What about things at work?”

  Jessica fills me in on everything that’s been going on at the Park Inn. My receptionist apparently had sex with the gardener in the shed, which was a big scandal because he was dating the cook. She found out and threatened to cleaver him. Stella and Jess were able to get her to calm down, but the gardener demanded she be fired. My sister, being all about girl power, fired him. The guests in the cottage were unhappy about the distance they had to walk, so she was able to “upgrade” another couple into switching. Mostly, it was a lot of nothing, but I listened, smiling as she told me all about it.

  “And then your father came in today . . .”

  The smile is gone.

  “He did?”

  She nods. “He was actually really nice. He asked if we’d spoken because I guess there is a dinner next weekend that you didn’t tell me about.”

  “There is, and they’d like you to come.”

  “Why?”

  “I have no idea, but they’re evil, so I don’t think we should go.”

  “Gray,” Jess says with exasperation. “I don’t know why they hate me, but if we’re really going to be together, then . . . I need to deal with them. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “No, love, you haven’t.”

  “Then, we’ll go, and we’ll endure.”

  I laugh because it’s the same words Stella used a few months ago.

  “What?” Jess asks.

  “Nothing. I just love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Let’s hope you still feel that way after dinner.”

  Chapter 28

  Jessica

  “You’re cleared!” Winnie says with a huge smile.

  “Please don’t tell anyone.”

  My sister’s head tilts to the side and she stares at me as though I’m a zoo animal she’s never seen before. “What? Why the hell are you keeping it a secret?”

  “Because I am.”

  Winnie gets up from the kitchen table, refilling her coffee. “That makes no sense. Not to mention it was bullshit I found out from Mom.”