“Stop, Piper! What are you doing?” I look up to see Cam standing in front of me.
The tears start instantly. At this point, they’ve become meaningless dribble. I cry at the drop of a hat over absolutely nothing. My own crying annoys the snot out of me, but I can’t seem to stop the waterworks. “Trying to plan a coming home party for Moby.”
“And you’re pounding your head on the desk why?” She angles her lean body into the chair just in front of me.
“It’s impossible to get in touch with people and him not know about it. I feel like I’m wasting my time. I honestly don’t even know if he wants a party. I’m proud of how far he’s come, but I’m worried he doesn’t want to see anyone.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“He keeps telling me he’s handicapped and an invalid. If that’s truly how he feels I don’t want to embarrass him by parading him around in front of his friends.”
Cam scowls at me. “If that’s how he feels, it’s his own issue. Not yours. His friends and family don’t feel that way.”
“I know.”
“So stop with the dreary wearies already and quit trying to keep it a surprise. Post an announcement on Facebook with a time and a restaurant. Ask people to let you know if they’re coming so you can reserve space and move on down the road. Damn, Piper. You’re making things so hard on yourself.” Pulling a tissue from the box on my desk, she hands it to me. “And stop crying all the time. What’s wrong with you? You never cry. If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if you were pregnant.”
“I don’t know. I think it’s a lack of sleep. I know I’m overly emotional but can’t seem to stop it.” I wipe at the rivers flowing down my cheeks as I speak through the snotty nose and nasal drip.
With a heavy sigh, she slumps back in the chair, crossing her legs in front of her. “Piper, things are finally starting to calm down. You’re back at work, Moby’s coming home, you close on the condo tomorrow. Why are you not sleeping?”
Unable to form a verbal answer, I shrug my shoulders.
“That’s not an answer. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re hiding something. Spill it.”
There’s no use trying to pretend there’s nothing wrong. She won’t relent, and I still have hours left in the day to spend at work.
“I don’t want him to come home.” The weight of my head falls back to my arms on the desk, but her hand catches my forehead, palm flat against it preventing any more head banging.
“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t you want him to come home?” I can’t tell if it’s confusion or anger, or maybe a mixture of both swirling around in her eyes but it’s enough to scare me. So I just shrug.
“Stop shrugging and answer me.”
“Nothing feels right!” I blurt out, my words mixed with more emotion. “When he touches me it’s foreign; it’s not Moby. When we talk there’s so much distance between us. He’s mad all the time; he’s mean to people. He snaps at me. I don’t want that version of him in our home. I want my Moby back. I want the man I married to come home.” My eyes begin to swell, puffy from incessant crying, and my face flushes with heat. “What if he wants to have sex, Cam? I already feel like there’s another body hanging out with us when he hugs me. His left side, it’s dead weight, it’s always there as if a third person has joined us. It. Creeps. Me. Out!”
She lets me drop my head back on the desk with a thud, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t leave either.
“I think you’re being selfish as hell, Piper.”
My head snaps to meet her eyes. Cam’s one of my best friends. She’s never talked to me like this before. I’m not even sure I heard her correctly. Mistakenly, I thought I had misunderstood or that she finished.
“Have you, for one second, put yourself in Moby’s shoes?” She seems to be waiting for an answer, but I can’t find one. Instead, I furrow my brow in response. With a raised voice she continues to assault me verbally. “He can’t use the left side of his body, Piper. He has to learn to walk again. Learn to use a fork, a pencil. He can’t work; he hasn’t been home in weeks, and he’s coming to terms with whether or not all of this will be permanent. He shouldn’t have to worry about his wife being a shallow twit who’s afraid her husband will want to have sex with her! Gah, Piper. Are you kidding me with this shit?”
“You don’t understand,” I say like a child not getting my way.
“You’re right, I don’t understand. After having been through what I went through, having seen your husband have a stroke, how can you possibly sit there thinking you’re the one with the issue? You never once left my side or treated me like I was damaged when I came home. Why the hell would you do it to Moby?”
“I wasn’t sleeping with you, Cam. I went home at night. I still had my own things going on while you were recovering. Dax did all those things for you. Now I’m Dax!” I snarl the words at her knowing just how nasty I truly sound. “And as I recall, Dax wasn’t up for giving it to you right away either. So maybe, just maybe, I’m justified in my feelings regardless of whether you think they’re valid.”
When she stands, I lean back, her figure in front of me is intimidating. Without warning, she slaps my face, hard. The sting from her hand warms the skin on my cheek. Instinctively, I cover the mark with my hand, my jaw slacks in disbelieving horror; one of my best friends just hit me in anger. “You need an attitude adjustment, preferably before Moby comes home.” Pivoting on her heel, she exits without looking back. I listen to the swish of her panty hose rustling against her skirt until I can no longer make it out.
An hour later, Dax graces me with his presence. I’m sure Cam ran off to tattle on her friend not loving her fiancé’s brother. Hearing the thoughts in my head, I try to shake loose my shitty attitude but find myself having a death grip on it, refusing to let it go.
“What’s up, Dax?” I ask coldly.
“You got a minute to talk?”
“Not really, but I’m sure you’re not going to go away until I make time so say what you have to say.” Holy nastiness, Batman. I’ve become a raging bitch.
He doesn’t respond; he waits for me to have the decency to lift my head and make eye contact with him. Expecting to find anger, I see nothing but warmth, his eyes are inviting, and there’s a trace of a small, sympathetic smile. Completely caught off guard, I harden myself to anything he has to say, visually offering my defenses crossing my arms against my chest, leaning back. “You’ve got five minutes. Go.”
He laughs. The son of a bitch laughs.
“You’re so much like Cam. When I was trying to get her to notice me, she would do exactly what you’re doing now. Steel her resolve, harden her defenses, put up this front, a barrier she didn’t think was penetrable. You two are cute, really.” Shaking his head, I assume to clear the memory, he continues talking, “I’m not here to berate you, Piper. I think Cam expected a different response than the one she got from me when she told me about the…” He pauses as if he’s thinking of a polite word to use “…encounter earlier.”
Not quite willing to let the wall down, I give just a tad. “I’m not following you.”
“When Cam was in the hospital, I was terrified for her, worried she would have permanent issues after the rape, scared she wouldn’t wake up, nauseated by what it would do to her personality, you name it, and I worried about it for her. The fact was, it was all about her. I wasn’t even a part of her equation.
“I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she was mine, she didn’t know it, but I did. I also knew with that came an enormous responsibility when we left the hospital. I never admitted it to a single soul, and if you ever repeat it I’ll call you a liar, but I was terrified to bring her home.”
“But you argued us all down about how she should be with you because you could take care of her full time.”
“Yes, I did. I did so because it was the truth, and she was my responsibility. But that doesn’t change the fact I was out of my mind with fear. I was bringing
a woman I’d known from a distance, who had just been attacked, brutally raped, into my home to try to nurse her back to the living. Who wouldn’t be terrified?”
“You! Come on Dax; I’m not buying this.”
“Did you ever wonder why Cam and I went so long without having sex?” He raised his eyebrows and quirking his lips at me waiting for a response.
“No. She was raped. You would’ve been a fool to have sex with her.”
“Yeah, but she wanted to. She thought she was ready long before I did.”
“Okay, what’s your point?”
“My point is, I wasn’t ready. I was scared to death to have any type of intimate relationship with her because she was changed. Insecurities plagued me. I warred with myself, we were in counseling for months.
“Give yourself time to adjust to life. It has changed and is going to continue to. You can’t go through what you and Moby have experienced and come out the same people.”
“What if I don’t adjust?” Fuck, here comes tears again. I’m so sick of crying.
“You will and on the other side of this you’ll find you had strength you didn’t know existed. Your marriage will be stronger than ever, and the two of you will be unstoppable. But, Piper, you’re going to have to open up to him and tell him how you’re feeling.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Trust me, you’re showing him every time he sees you or talks to you. He loves you more than life itself. The better part of for better or worse is always easier, but if you can get through the worse, you’re solid. Don’t give up on him, Pipes.”
“I don’t know how to get through what I’m feeling.”
He stands ups to leave. “Talk to him. When he gets home, you guys need to sit down and have a heart to heart. You might be surprised at what you find out he’s feeling.” Winking at me he leaves my office.
I’m not sure if I feel better after talking to Dax or worse. I don’t believe he was scared when Cam came home, but it would make sense. He kept her at bay for a long time physically, and it drove her insane.
Thinking back to the day Moby and I took our vows, I never imagined, at least not so early in our marriage, those vows would be tested. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be the one to question whether or not I could stay true to them, but here I am, less than six months in, and I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. I wonder how long I’ll be able to pretend if I don’t own up to how I’m feeling.
My anxiety begins to shift over the afternoon from Moby’s homecoming to the impending doom I feel over having this conversation. Dax is right; I have to tell him, but I don’t want to hurt him for anything in the world.
Reading the post on Facebook sends me into orbit.
Me: It would have been nice if you asked if I wanted a party before planning one
Piper: It’s just dinner at a Mexican restaurant. You have to eat.
Me: Doesn’t mean I have to do it with a bunch of people who haven’t cared enough to come see me in the weeks I was cooped up
Piper: Really, Moby? Do you want me to cancel?
I hesitate before responding. I don’t want to have dinner with those assholes. Most of them haven’t bothered calling or texting much less come by, but suddenly they want to make sure people see their names on the RSVP list. I don’t do fake.
I know I’ve hurt her feelings. People always say you can’t read tone in a text but I sure as hell can read her tone in her last text, it’s exasperation at my ungratefulness. She’s trying to do something for me, something to get me out, and I’m shitting on it.
Me: No. I’m sorry. I’m just not sure how I feel about seeing people
Piper: Why would you not want to see people?
Me: …
Piper: ???
Me: I can’t walk, Piper. I’m embarrassed to have people see me like this. I’m thirty-two and using a walker like I’m ninety.
Piper: Operative word…walk(er).
She’s all over the place the last couple of days. Hot and cold. Grateful and heedless. She’s becoming Sybil, and I never know which personality I’m going to get on a daily basis. Today she seems to be Positive Polly while I’m pairing up with Captain Jackass.
Me: How did things go at closing?
Piper: We’re no longer the owners of a money-sucking condo on Concord Drive. So I’d say it was a success.
Me: At least that’s over. What time are you breaking me out of the big house?
Piper: 4 p.m. I have a surprise for you at home before dinner at 6 p.m.
Me: What kind of surprise?
Piper: You’ll just have to wait and see
Promptly at four o’clock, Piper comes to my room to collect my things and me. I’d like to say leaving here is bittersweet, but the fact is the entire situation is just fucking bitter. I’m nowhere near where I need to be, we still don’t have any answers from any of the facilities about care after today, Piper and I are off, as in way off, and I really just want to be alone. Surprises don’t interest me, neither does going home, or dinner with friends. I want to be left alone to figure out what the fuck to do from here.
I feel the tension she doesn’t want to acknowledge. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something huge looming between us. It’s both of us. My anger’s brewing on the tip of my tongue. It’s eating at me, but I’m afraid if I voice it, speaking it out loud will bring it to life, whereas it’s currently sitting at bay. I’m lying to myself and I know it. It’s just under the surface, ready to boil over. I keep hoping I can get to one of my brothers before I explode all over Piper. They can handle it, they’ll let me say what I need to say, then promptly move on. I need the release, but damn, I can’t do it to her. She won’t understand. She’ll cry.
“Are you excited to be going home?” I hear the effort in her voice. It pains me either of us has to try so hard.
“I’m excited for the surprise you have.” I’m not. I’m not the least bit interested in anything she could’ve cooked up while I was gone, unless it’s her going out with everyone and leaving me alone.
She looks at me, uncertainty marking her face, mixed with a bit of unhappiness. “Ha. Sounds like it.” The sarcasm pours from her mouth. Piper doesn’t explode often but when she lets loose it’s brutal, and it usually starts with laden contempt. She stirs a pot of surly, brewing destruction in her mind.
I watch her chest heave as she inhales deeply, anticipating her explosion, but she doesn’t give it to me. “Is this what we’re going to do tonight? I really don’t have the energy for it. If you’re not interested in the surprise, that’s okay.” She turns to glance at me, briefly taking her eyes off the road. All I see is exhaustion and sadness.
“No. I’m sorry. Look, I’ve got a lot on my mind and I’m sure you do too. Let’s try to get through tonight and enjoy some time with our friends. Tomorrow we can sit down and try to figure out how we move forward—together.” Putting my hand on hers, I give it a gentle squeeze in an attempt to reassure her I still love her, and I’m still in this for the long haul. The smile she returns is not reassuring; neither is the pitiful hug her hand gives mine.
I want to be happy when we pull up to the house, everything in me tries to find relief in being home and no longer in a hospital, but the moment I see the ramp over the stairs my irritation turns red in anger. “I could have gotten up the stairs, Piper.” I glare at her, seething my words through my teeth.
Turning the car off, she ignores me, pissing me off even more. Exiting the car, I watch her move around the car to the trunk. When she arrives at my door with the walker, I open the car door too hard, too fast, knocking her down in the driveway with the weight of it. Her body splayed on the concrete, she lies motionless, staring at me in disbelief, but I don’t apologize. Sitting up, she begins to dust herself off, kneeling, then standing; she offers her hand to assist me in getting out of the car, but I refuse. Grabbing hold of the walker, I begin the ugly trek to the front of the house.
I should be concentrat
ing on each step I take, making sure not to hyperextend my knee, but instead, I’m taking note of every neighbor in their driveway or yard, those stopping to stare, seeing the freak show trying to get inside. My knee snaps back over and over the more frustrated I get.
“Moby, it’s okay. Slow down. We’re not in a race.” Her voice is soothing, the Piper I married coming out. Her compassion is one of the things I love most about her, but right now, I want to rip her tongue out.
Under muffled breath so the watching eyes can’t hear, I say, “You have no idea what this feels like. How embarrassing it is to have people stare at you, gawk, wonder what happened to you or if you were born this way.” If my eyes had lasers in them, they would’ve bored holes straight through her.
“Neither do you. You’ve been dealing with this for all of thirty seconds while others have dealt with it for a lifetime. Drop the pity party for a bit and let’s get inside.” Her tone changed in the blink of an eye. She’s going to match my attitude, and it’s going to get ugly quickly if one of us doesn’t relent.
“Sorry.”
Stopping on the ramp, she turns around to face me, her cheeks blood red, almost purple, her eyes bulging in an unnatural way. “What for Moby? Pushing me down on the driveway? Acting like a total jackass? Or just being a victim altogether?” Not waiting for a response, she opens the front door, swinging it wide to allow me to come in. I see her disappear, but she doesn’t stay to ensure I make it in.
By the time I reach the couch, I’m exhausted. Walking any distance really takes an extraordinary amount of effort, leaving me winded, and in need of a break. I push the walker away, a little more forcefully than necessary, sending it crashing to the floor in front of me. Lying back on the couch, with my arm crossed over my eyes, I wonder how the hell Piper and I are ever going to survive this.
Without warning, before I can move to see what joined me, I feel wetness all over my arm. Pulling my makeshift blindfold from my face, I’m rewarded with the most adorable boxer I’ve ever seen. He’s a beautiful chocolate brown with an ivory spot on his neck, long awkward legs, and floppy ears.
Compass (Siren Songs Book 2) Page 16
