Unwritten Rules

by M.A. Stacie

  He stared at the gift, resting it on his knee but not making any move to open it. I placed my hands on his shoulders, smoothing my thumbs up and down his neck. It was a gesture of reassurance, one Jonah took willingly.

  I bent over, uttering into his ear, “I know this is hard. I’m going to take a guess that it’s the first present you’ve received in a very long time. Mom and I are just trying to make this better for you.”

  He turned his head, meeting my lips with his and speaking against them, “I love you.”

  “I know. Just have a good day, or at least make an effort to.”

  His brief setback alarmed me a bit. I had to remind myself that today was no ordinary day for Jonah, and it was bound to hurt him a little. Though I was here to support and love him, sometimes it was easy to forget the baggage he carried with him and get lost in his passion.

  He’d been a broken man in the beginning; shy and depressed, and while many women would have run from him that first time I found him bleeding in his apartment; I couldn’t. He was my everything.

  “Are you going to make eyes at each other for the rest of the day?” Mom questioned.

  We both jumped, startled out of our thoughts. I mouthed a sorry to her, explaining that her gift was still in my bedroom. She took it as her cue to start preparing the food and excused herself. I took Jonah’s hand and led him upstairs. Opening Mom’s gift would have to wait. I was going to hand him his present from me while we were alone.

  Jonah entered the room, slumping onto the unmade bed and stared at the green paper bag Mom had given him. I knelt at his feet, my hands covering his over the paper.

  “Jonah, you can do this. You don’t need to feel sad or isolated.”

  “I know,” he rasped. “I’m happy, Red. I’m just... happy.”

  My smile was so big my cheeks hurt. “So I can give you my gift now? I don’t want you to get upset.”

  He nodded. I didn’t wait for anymore confirmation.

  I raced over to my suitcase and opened it, retrieving the large, wrapped rectangle from the bottom.

  I gave it to him. I thought he was going to take his time with it, but after one sweep of his hand across the surface, he ripped the decorated paper open. I sat down next to him, lowering my head so that I could see his expression. He seemed confused at first, but then a smile showed his amazement. His finger traced across the glass, following the outline of the three images in the frame.

  “How did you? Where did you?”

  “First of all, you have to promise not to shout at me, okay?”

  He didn’t answer, just continued to stare at the photograph.

  “The day you first called your mom? You did it from my phone, so I had your family’s home number. When I asked you to come here for Christmas, I couldn’t think of a single thing to get for you, but then inspiration struck. I know I shouldn’t have, so don’t get angry, but I called them and told them what I wanted. Your mom emailed the photograph me the next day,” I blurted.

  “You spoke to my mom?” he choked.

  “I did. She’s so nice, interrogated me a bit, like all moms should when their son’s girlfriend calls the first time.

  I should have asked you, but then, that would have spoiled the surprise. Do you like it? Your mom said Quinn bought that shirt especially for the picture.”

  Jonah placed the framed photograph of his family down onto the floor with precision. I braced myself for his wrath.

  It never came.

  He pushed me back, pinning me to the mattress and hovering over me so that his hair flopped forward. My hand itched to reach up and smoothed it back. His intent was still unclear as his eyes pierced mine; those fierce chips of ice giving nothing away... until he swooped and captured my lips. The kiss was aggressive, so much so that I was sure my lips were going to bruise, but I wasn’t about to stop him. I flipped him, taking some authority back. I sat up, waiting for an explanation. He licked his lips, his fingers tunneling under the hem of my skirt then stopping to hold my thighs firmly.

  “I don’t have the words, Elle. All I can say is thank you.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  Jonah shook his head, the right side of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “How could I be angry at you, baby? From day one you’ve been nothing but amazing. It’s no wonder you broke me; no wonder I fell for you.”

  “I didn’t break you,” I protested, but Jonah disagreed.

  “You broke the shell I had built around the real me.

  You left me raw and bleeding, but what came of that was us. And Red? We are perfect. I love you.”

  I lowered my torso to rest on top of his, and nuzzled the crook of his neck. “I love you too.”

  We lay like that for a while, content with the contact, until I decided to tell him everything. “I spoke to Quinn.”

  “Really?” He rumbled. “And what do you think?”

  “The truth?” I asked, then continued once he nodded his head in approval. “The hardest part is referring to you as Benjamin when I speak to them. To me you’re Jonah.”

  “I can see how that’s a problem. We’ll work it out.

  Damn, Red, thank you. I don’t just mean the gift either. I mean all of it. Your persistence, your passion. Your love.”

  I kissed his jaw, his stubble coarse on my sensitive lips. “You don’t need to thank me.”

  “I do have a gift for you. I just don’t want you to move off me.”

  “Well she’ll have to!” Came a voice from the doorway. “I have potatoes that need chopping and veggies that need peeling. If either of you want to eat today, you’ll separate and get your tushies downstairs.”

  We both giggled like children, promising that we would be downstairs to help soon.

  Soon turned out to be two hours later. Mom was rather tipsy by then. It was a Christmas like no other, and I prayed New Years with Jonah’s family would be the same.

  I was a little sad we had to leave Cape Cod. The time at my mom’s went by far too fast, and it was difficult to leave her. In previous years, I’d spent all of Christmas and New Years at home with her, even when I was living with Nathan. It was a tradition. But we had a flight to Philadelphia to see Jonah’s parents. Tomorrow would be New Years Eve – my birthday. I purposefully kept this detail about myself from Jonah. He had enough on his mind without having to worry about a gift or festivities for me.

  Jonah struggled to cope with his mixed emotions.

  He wanted to go and see his family, however the unknown was scaring him. I tried to console him on the flight; touching him, kissing him, and trying to get him to verbalize his concerns. He brushed off my worries, but the shaking of his hand when he held my pinkie in his proved he was affected. By the time we were in the taxi, Jonah was a mess, and the closer we got to his parent’s, the worse the trembling became.

  I sensed the attack only moments before he began gasping. I got the driver to stop the cab, and rifled through Jonah’s backpack until I found his meds. I had packed a couple of paper bags, worried that this would happen, but they were in my suitcase. So I rushed around to the trunk, and fought with the zipper of the case.

  I could hear Jonah’s wheezing, and I fought to calm myself down, but I couldn’t. The man I loved was suffering. I was suffering as I took my time helping him. I cleared my head and went back to Jonah. I had him breathe in and out of the paper bag like we’d done the previous times he’d had an attack. I ran my fingers through his hair and down his neck to help soothe him.

  It was an hour before we could continue on our way, and much to my surprise, the cab driver had been really caring. He’d stayed with us, even offering to take Jonah to the local hospital. After I’d explained the situation to him, that Jonah needed a few minutes then we’d be fine to travel, he simply nodded and waited. I was thankful we were in Philly rather than New York. No cab drivers in New York would’ve been so kind.

  I called his mom, telling her our flight had been delayed. She didn’t question my explan
ation, but squealed in excitement when I told her we’d e there shortly.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, stroking Jonah’s arm.

  “I’m sorry I scared you,” he croaked out. “I thought I had a hold on it all. Clearly, that’s not the case.”

  “You expect too much of yourself. Did you really think you could just walk into that house and everything would be fine? Jonah-”

  He placed his finger across my lips, cutting me off. “I was being stupid. I thought I was dealing with it – I wasn’t. I hate that I scared you. I hate that you always end up looking after me.”

  I wrapped my fingers around his wrist as his hand moved to hold the back of my neck. “You can’t do this alone. Please don’t push me aside.”

  His fingers flexed on my skin in an attempt to show he was disturbed by my pleading. I wanted to continue but thought better of it. Jonah had a lot to deal with, and an argument with me would be futile. We embraced as he stared out the window, his face stoic, the muscle in his cheek pulsing every few seconds. I wondered if he was thinking back to his childhood.

  Jonah’s fingers toyed absentmindedly with the bracelet he’d bought me for Christmas. I watched; his nimble fingers toying with each platinum link as they looped around my wrist. He stopped when he reached the tiny envelope that dangled from it. I had laughed when I’d noticed it. I was amazed at the amount of thought he’d put into my gift, even having our mailbox numbers engraved on it.

  “We’re here,” Jonah mumbled, sitting forward and letting go of my arm.

  His face turned ashen, but when I tried to console him, he shrank away. “I just need a minute, Red.”

  I let him exit the cab, studying his rigid movements as he stood staring at the house in front of us. I paid the driver and thanked him for his assistance then removed our suitcases from the trunk. The urgency to help him, to comfort the man I loved, coursed through my body.

  I walked closer, aware that the cab was driving away, and placed my hand at the base of his spine. “This is the house you grew up in?” I questioned softly.

  He cleared his throat but didn’t speak, just nodded.

  “You know they’re expecting us, so chances are they’re watching you right now. Waiting for you to knock on the door.”

  He drew back, swallowing and shaking his head.

  “I can’t do this. I shouldn’t be here... ”

  Jonah tried to walk away, determined to shake off my grip, but I held firm. It was obvious this wasn’t going to be easy. I thought he’d resolved and worked through this.

  Realization struck; it would always be this way with Jonah.

  For every two steps forward he took, there would always be one back. It wasn’t scared though, because I knew in my heart that someday he would be able to walk into that house and hug his family without being affected by his dark past.

  “Jonah,” I snapped, trying to gain his attention before he had another anxiety attack. “You can do this. I know you. I love you, and I know this is something you can cope with.”

  “Can’t.”

  I crouched down, making sure I made eye contact.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “More than anyone in my life. Ever,” he replied vehemently.

  “So listen to me, hold my hand and come on.” I was abrupt with him, but being gentle wouldn’t help this time.

  He took my hand, his eyes full of sorrow. I brought his knuckles to my lips and kissed them. At the same time I heard the front door open.

  Jonah shuddered. “Oh God, Elle.”

  I gazed across the garden to see a short brunette step out onto the ramped porch. She was wiping her hands on a dish cloth and smiling in our direction. Her hair was poker straight, hanging down to her shoulders. I could see it was slightly darker than Jonah’s, however, her eyes were the exact shade of ice blue as his. They were piercing. I would have been frightened had I not already known the warmth those eyes could hold. Jonah’s eyes were just as intense.

  “Red, you’ve got to help me,” he begged. “I can’t move.”

  I stroked his arm, returning his mom’s smile. “You can do this. One step at a time, baby.”

  His grip tightened on my hand as we walked up the path. We left the suitcases at the edge of the garden; they could wait. I whispered words of encouragement and held my free hand out for Mrs. Samuels to shake. I was afraid she was going to fling herself at Jonah as she moved on to the tip of her toes, but she thought better of it and took my offered hand.

  “You must be Elle.” She wiped a tear, and mouthed ‘thank you’.

  “No thanks needed, Mrs. Samuels.”

  I tried to hang back, wanting them to have a moment alone, but Jonah was holding firm. Jonah stiffened as his mom raised her hand to cup his face.

  “Oh, my boy!” She wept. “My silly, silly boy!”

  My throat constricted as I watched them. He was staring at her, every thought playing across his features as he contemplated what action to take next. Tears were openly rolling down his mom’s face; they were threatening to spill from mine, too. It was icy cold out in the garden, but neither mother nor son seemed to notice. Jonah was wearing his coat; his mom dressed in a thin lilac cardigan and black slacks. I opened my mouth, ready to interrupt, when someone else exited the house.

  A tall man, with a thick, bushy beard, started toward us. The top of his head was a complete contrast to his beard, because his hair had been shaved off. His eyes were a warm brown, and as he came closer, I caught a whiff of tobacco.

  “Tom, have you seen our boy? He’s so grown!”

  She reached out for Tom’s support, much like Jonah was doing with me.

  Tom nodded in Jonah’s direction. He repeated his wife’s action of edging forward but then holding himself back.

  “Let’s go inside. Quinn is waiting,” Tom rumbled before turning to me. “Hello, Elle. Hear you’ve been looking after Ben. ”

  “I-”

  “It’s Jonah now, Tom,” Mrs. Samuels added.

  A small whimper slipped from Jonah’s lips. I was about to come to his rescue when his mom looped her arm around his waist and led him back to the house. His fingers slipped from mine. I let him go. Tom lingered behind and helped me with the suitcases.

  “Dunno if I can get used to calling him Jonah.”

  I snorted, “I’m always shocked when I hear the name Ben. I guess that makes us even.”

  Tom grinned, pushing the door open for me.

  “Thanks for bringing him home, Elle.”

  I was at a loss for words. So many years had passed, so much pain left to fester, and therefore four lives had been placed on hold. This had to be a new start, because each one of them deserved it.

  I abandoned the suitcases just inside of the door.

  Tom led me into the living room where Jonah was sitting on the edge of the couch. Quinn was in his wheelchair, pushed right up to the couch, bracketing Jonah’s legs.

  They were holding hands.

  The ache in my heart was replaced with hope.

  Hope and love.

  Jonah gazed up at me, his eyes glittering with tears. I caught a hint of something else in them as well. It was something I’d only seen on rare occasions.

  Jonah was happy.

  He waved me over, patting the seat next to him and gesturing toward Quinn. “This is my brother. Quinn, this is Elle.”

  Quinn had the largest of smiles, and the biggest brown eyes – just like his father’s. His hair was dark and bounced around his face in wild curls. I chuckled to myself, wondering if Tom had chosen to shave his head thanks to a mass of curls.

  “Hey,” he grinned wider, flashing a dimple in my direction.

  I couldn’t help but smile back; he was infectious, and the dimple was an exact replica of Jonah’s. “We brought gifts. Jonah told me you were into video games, Quinn.”

  Quinn laughed as his parents excused themselves to make some coffee. “You know his name’s Ben, right? I mean, he didn’t just decide on Jona
h, that’s his middle name, but his real name is Ben.”

  “Take a breath, buddy,” Jonah said, placing a hand on Quinn’s knee.

  Quinn reached out, scooping up Jonah’s pinkie in his and lifted them into the air. “I’m awesome. I’m finally awesome.”

  I stood up, kissed Jonah on the forehead and left them alone. They needed space, and I was barely holding it together. Since I was unsure which bedroom we’d be staying in, I went back out to the garden.

  That was where I broke down. I sobbed and then called my mom, just to tell her I loved her.

  “Hey, baby, what are you doing out here?”

  Jonah’s voice startled me. I had nodded off, even in the cold. I still held my cell in my hand from the call to my mom. I felt disorientated, unaware of how long I’d been sitting out on the porch.

  Jonah wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and passed me a steaming mug of coffee. I hugged it close, sighing when he pressed his lips against mine. He tasted of coffee and chocolate. The only thing I wanted to do was sink into his warmth.

  “You didn’t need to leave. I was doing alright,” he grumbled, sitting down next to me and resting his head on my shoulder.

  “I known. That’s why I left you guys to it. You need some time alone, as a family.”

  “But-”

  “I don’t mind, Jonah. I don’t mind at all; as long as it makes you happy.”

  He exhaled loudly and tickled his fingers against mine where I held the mug of coffee. “I’m numb. It’s hard to believe I’m here. That they want me here.”

  “Does it look the same? The house, I mean?” I asked, changing the topic.

  “Except for the ramp and the renovations for Quinn’s chair. It was like walking back in time when I got out of the cab. I just remembered that day, the car and the huge argument. I couldn’t shift the memory of Quinn... ” he gulped.

  I shifted away from him, placing the mug onto the floor, then turned back to face him. I sat cross-legged on the bench and brought my blanket around us both, surrounding us in a fleecy cocoon. Jonah rested his forehead against mine and kissed the tip of my nose.