Come Undone

by AJ Matthews

  “Work? What do you mean?” I search her eyes for a sign.

  “I need to go back to school, but I’ll be home for spring break, and then summer and …”

  “Can I come with you? Can I come to UF with you?” Not exactly what I planned a few minutes ago, but I’m learning to be flexible.

  “Really? Well, no, because I live in the dorm and the rooms aren’t co-ed, but would you move there?”

  “It’s time. Mom and Da haven’t said anything, but they want me to be more self-sufficient. Why not come and rent a room and be like other guys my age and get a job—or two or three part-time jobs—to pay my bills? Maybe not now, but in a couple months when you come back for spring break, I can go back with you.” I’m rambling and hope I make sense to her. Things will be hard. So hard, but I can do this.

  She stares at me, wide-eyed. “Who are you?”

  I’m so amazed I might be the reason for the wonder in her voice.

  “Someone who’s finally gotten what he wants, and now wants to prove to everyone—prove to himself—he deserves it. I want to earn you every day.”

  She cries now, swiping at the tears with the back of her hand. “I need to do the same. Treat you as you deserve to be treated. Respect your decisions and allow you to determine what’s best for you. You make me want to be better. You make me better. So yeah, let’s be better together.”

  She holds her hands out, and I take them. She pulls up, but we both know there’s no way she can move me. I let her pretend, and try to make as little movement as necessary to stand.

  She buries her head in my chest, and her short arms wrap around me, squeezing at my waist.

  I love her short arms and round face and little belly and sweet lips. Her energy and enthusiasm. Everything about her.

  “Let’s do this,” I echo. “On one condition.”

  “Which is?” Trini murmurs into my shirt, her hand bunching at the fabric in nervous twitches.

  I turn her head to fix her gaze on me. “Don’t try to change your body for me. If you want to lose the imaginary ‘fat’ Dean sees on you, do it for you. Don’t ever change your appearance because you think I want you to change. No one in the world is more phenomenal in my eyes. I may view the world differently, but you will always be the same—the most beautiful person I know.”

  She gasps, her eyes shining with tears again, but accompanied by a smile. Happy tears.

  She bites her lips and nods. “Deal.”

  I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me as she drops kisses all over my face. I press my lips to hers, holding the kiss for minutes.

  With plans to hold on to her for a lifetime.

  “Just when you think life can’t throw you another curve ball, here come a few more. Like Crawley says, ‘You can take a dive and hit the dirt, or take a swing and hit a home run.’ Sage advice for a music career, but also for every facet of life.”—Trini Díáz, Songs in the Key of Paradise

  Spring Break

  Two Months Later

  I OPEN THE BACK DOOR of mom’s kitchen/living area, and am greeted by the scent of frying bacon and eggs and …

  Wait. Mom’s cooking breakfast? She’s usually a Hot Pocket-and-coffee kind of girl in the mornings.

  “Good morning, sweetie!” Her sing-song tone is way too cheerful, even for her. “Would you like breakfast?”

  My eyes dart around the room, scanning for evidence of the pod this alien version of my mother escaped from. “Sure, but can I ask you something?”

  “Anything, of course.”

  Yes, anything. I’m pretty sure we have no secrets anymore. I grin at her. “Who are you?”

  She swats at me with a potholder. “Stop! I wanted to make the family a home-cooked meal.”

  “The fami—”

  Footsteps fall from the second room. “Oh. Good morning, Trini.”

  Apparently Mom’s kept one secret from me. “Hey, Jake. What are you doing here?”

  I’m happy he’s here, but I wasn’t expecting someone to walk out of my mother’s bedroom this morning. Especially my biological father.

  “Nice to see you, too.” He walks over and hugs me. This will take getting used to.

  I step back and point between the two of them. “I didn’t know you guys were dating.”

  “Jake wanted to see you off. He got in late, and I insisted he stay here.”

  “This isn’t what you think.”

  Their simultaneous protests and furtive sideways glances at one another tell me it’s exactly what it looks like. Or it will be soon.

  I’m okay with that. They’re single, relatively young, and attractive people who happen to share a common bond—me. Plus, they’ve been hot for each other off and on for over twenty-five years.

  “Don’t protest for my benefit.” I grab a strip of crispy bacon from the plate next to the cook top and bite into it. Then I recall the rule about mindful eating. Food on a plate, sit at the table, concentrate on nothing else but the meal.

  I pull a gold-and-white striped stoneware plate out of the cabinet and add a couple more strips of bacon and an egg. I grab a fork from the drawer and sit at the two-person bistro table in the corner.

  Jake takes a mug of coffee from Mom and points to the chair next to me. “Can I join you?”

  “Sure.” I take a bite of egg, chewing thoroughly before swallowing. “I’d like that.”

  I mean it. Jake and I talk a lot, sharing videos and entertainment news through Facebook and Twitter, saving longer communications for e-mail. He volunteered to watch my doc before I submitted it for the film festival, and offered helpful criticism instead of the useless platitudes one might expect from a parent. It was refreshing.

  We’ve talked on the phone a few times, and I got to “meet” my sister through Skype a few weeks ago. Sophie’s adorable, and seems like a good kid. This can’t be easy on her either, but I didn’t detect any snotty attitude on her part. She is only thirteen, so more willful, bratty behavior is on the horizon. I haven’t always been the most agreeable teenager.

  “You’re headed back to school tomorrow, right?” Jake takes a sip of coffee while he waits for my answer.

  “Yes. We leave tomorrow morning. Ferry to Ft. Myers, and then catch a bus back to campus.” My face spreads into a grin when I say “we.” Mac’s coming back with me when spring break is over, as we’d planned. The transition will challenge him, but he’s ready.

  “Fantastic. Before you go, I have something for you.” He stands up and walks to the back door. When I don’t get up, he glances over his shoulder and motions for me to follow.

  We head into the sticky morning air and walk over to the parking lot of the shop next door. Like in the car commercials, a new car sits in the lot, a bright blue compact wrapped in a giant red bow. I tilt my head and purse my lips. “Wait, is this for me?”

  “No, it’s for my other secret child.” He laughs.

  I groan.

  He lifts his eyebrows. “Too soon?”

  I pinch my fingers together. “Little bit.”

  “Then the serious answer is, of course it’s for you, silly.” He rests his arm across my shoulders, and I relax against him.

  My Dad.

  Getting this car is weird. Not “creepy-weird,” but “I’m-not-sure-what-to-do-with-it” weird.

  My things have always been second-hand, or dirt-cheap. I’m not materialistic. I’d be happy driving an old car if I could afford to keep one running.

  But this gorgeous, shiny new car is mine.

  To go along with the new dad and new sister I recently claimed.

  From the way Mom and Jake ogle each other, the complete family I’d wanted for so long may be on the way, too.

  I may be driving away tomorrow in the new car, but this doesn’t negate the fact that I’ve finally found my way home.

  “I found the path/You led the way/Love lights the dark/And I’ll never stray.”—Lyrics from “Shine” by Mac Kelly

  THIS IS HAPPENING.

 
The last of my stuff is in the trunk of the car Trini’s dad got her. Since she’s a freshman, she can’t park a car on campus, but I’ll keep it at my place for now.

  My place.

  I open the back door and stick my guitar in the seat. That’s my money maker, or so I hope, but I also have a few other things lined up to support myself. Interviews for other positions my group counselor here in Key West arranged through his friends who work near the university. He helped me make the contacts, but I need to ace the interviews and hopefully get an offer. That’s all on me, which it should be, since I’m an adult.

  I’ve been saving up tips, and raking in a lot over the past few weeks as spring breakers flooded Key West with wads of money and much less sense. My savings will pay the deposit on my room—a sublet I found on Craigslist. Speaking of …

  “So everything is set with the apartment? I mean, the room is real, and you met the people? Because I read stories on the Internet—”

  “Mac. Stop.” Trini puts a finger to my lips to quiet me. “Everything’s fine. We talked about this. The room is small but clean. The kitchen is shared. I met the roommates, and they seem nice. Stop worrying!”

  Of course, when she smiles at me, I can’t help but do what she says. My shoulders relax, and my heart slows a bit. Everything’s going to be fine.

  I glance over Trini’s shoulder, and Mom and Da watch from the porch. Mom didn’t want to cry, but I’d expected the tears no matter what she said. I’m the baby, and she’s sad I’m leaving. Proud, too, because no one ever thought this would happen, least of all me.

  I want to be on my own, but I never thought I would be smart enough or strong enough.

  Turns out I’m a little of both, especially with Trini at my side.

  Da drapes his hand on Mom’s shoulder, but she shrugs it off and bolts down the steps, lunging at me as Trini steps out of the way just in time.

  Her arms squeeze my neck, and she sniffles into my shoulder, “I love you, little one. Call if you need anything. Anytime. Okay?”

  I rub her back and pat her hair. I don’t want Mom to be sad. “Yes. I will. I love you, too, Mom.”

  Da climbs down the stairs and swallows me in a bear hug. “What yer mother said.”

  He claps me hard on the back one last time and walks away, his shoulders shaking as he heads inside. He’s crying, too, I guess, but wants to hide the tears.

  “I love you, too, Da.” I call out. He lifts his hand up in acknowledgement, but keeps his back to me. Yep. He’s crying.

  Trini squeezes my arm. “You ready?”

  She climbs into the car, and I hop into the passenger seat. I look down into her sparkling green eyes. I’m ready to go anywhere she asks, any time. “We got this.”

  “Make music, but make friends, too. Love them, nurture them, hold them tight. Because long after the song fades away, the love will stay.”—Trini Díáz, Songs in the Key of Paradise

  “ANY TIME YOU want to binge, find me. Kiss me. Touch me. I’ll help you make the pain go away.” I believe Mac thought he could take the pain away for me.

  I’m doing well on my own, though. I’m in a better place. I’m back to coping in more productive ways. I’m exercising and not bingeing. Not buying my trigger foods.

  While I don’t need Mac’s kisses or touches to take the pain away, that doesn’t mean I don’t want them. On the contrary, I want him more than two months ago.

  He smiles at me from the passenger seat, squeezes my knee, and slides his sunglasses on.

  “We got this.”

  I might have doubted this not too long ago, but now we’re both complete, but like two parts of a knot, stronger together.

  When one of us comes undone, the other will pick up the loose threads and help put them back in place.

  “Yeah, we got this. We really do.”

  THE END

  I hope you’ve enjoyed the second story in the Kellys of Key West series. Be sure to check out the adventures of the other Kelly brothers and their friends.

  Available now:

  Book 1: Goodbye to You

  Available for sale at Amazon, and free on Kindle unlimited:

  http://amzn.to/1GpAbR2

  Book 1.5: Come Back to Me

  Available for free from the following:

  Wattpad: http://w.tt/1JRAzWE

  AJ Matthews’ Website: http://authorajmatthews.com/comeback

  And coming soon—

  Book 3: I Will Follow

  Liam and Bennie’s story. Enjoy the excerpt that follows!

  I WILL FOLLOW

  Chapter 1

  Bennie

  Maybe burning the other woman’s panties while they were still in Enrique’s car was not the brightest idea.

  But when you fuck with Bennie Garcia, I will fuck you back.

  And not in a good way, either.

  Now I’m stuck in Key West under my uncle’s supervision. I had agreed to work for my uncle, who’s an orthopedist, after I graduated from college. Since he paid my tuition, I always thought it was a fair trade, but he hadn’t called me out on it till now.

  When he had to bail me out and pay off Enrique to keep him from pressing charges.

  I’m a grown-ass woman and don’t need a babysitter. Maybe a good lawyer, but not a babysitter.

  Still, if I have to be under the thumb of anyone, anywhere, Key West is at least a fun place to be.

  Even if that means wearing these ugly scrubs eight hours a day, five days a week. The gym attached to my uncle’s practice reeks of rubber and sweat and desperation, of people clamoring to get their lives back to normal after suffering a devastating injury or illness that impact their motor skills. I’m a licensed physical therapy assistant, which I attained after two years at the community college back in North Carolina.

  What I really want to do is be a personal trainer, which is why I insisted on finishing my bachelor’s in exercise science at NC University. Got that last year, but haven’t put it use yet.

  First, I need to serve a year under Warden Garcia, and then I’ll have my get-out-of-jail-card. I avoided charges in North Carolina, only to come back to Florida to serve a sentence of a different kind. Until then, I promised Uncle Rey that I would give my best effort to help whatever patients he assigned to me.

  I mean it, too. I will do nothing but my best. I may have issues with impulse control, but when I make promises, I keep them at all costs.

  My 10:00 a.m. is late, and I sit down on the stability ball to rest my feet. I went for a run this morning—the first run I’d taken in a long time—and my body is screeching at me to chill for a few minutes. I tap my fingers on the red rubber ball, the hollow sound echoing in the empty room. I brush a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

  Five more minutes and I’m calling this appointment a no-show.

  Uncle Rey told me this guy lost his leg below the knee a few months ago, and had done well in rehab at the VA hospital, but once he got home he regressed. He told me to expect resistance, but also told me I needed to bust my ass to get this guy out of his wheelchair again.

  I stand and pace between the gym entry and the back wall, peering out of the window to see if my patient was on his way.

  I glance down at my watch. 10:15. Time to call it. I walk back to the door adjoining the gym to the main office, to get the chart I’d forgotten. Which was so stupid, since that should have been the first thing I grabbed before walking back here.

  The automated front door swishes open and the chime sounds. My hand freezes on the doorknob. “So happy you made it. I was just about to call and reschedu...”

  I pivot, and rub my eyes, thinking I’m hallucinating.

  “Hi, Bennie.”

  “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  Sitting in a wheelchair in front of me is Liam Kelly, hot twin brother of my best friend Thea’s fiancé.

  His is such a jerk.

  But he’s also the same guy who, six months ago, after I had broken up with Enrique for the next-t
o-last time, gave me the hottest, sweatiest, best sex I’d ever had.

  ***

  Liam

  I can’t believe Da dumped me in the parking lot next to Dr. G’s office. I don’t want more therapy. I don’t need it. Got all I needed at the VA hospital.

  It’s not that I can’t walk.

  I just don’t want to.

  Da told me I had to stay here until my uncle, Paddy, picks me up at 11:00.

  Shit, it’s only 10:15. Another forty-five minutes in this nuclear mixture of sun and humidity and I will be toast.

  A sopping, burnt piece of toast.

  So I finally give in and roll into the gym.

  The chime sounds as the automated doors open up, swallowing me in an icy blast of refreshing air.

  The gym is empty, save for the therapist, or nurse, with the shoulder-length black hair who’s back is to me, about to enter the doctor’s office attached to the PT gym.

  It had been months since I’d touched a woman, and this one, from behind, was a fine specimen.

  The thought shocks me. Since the bombing, I hadn’t had a specific sexual thought about anyone. I’d wondered if anyone would ever want to do it with the amputee freak, and that idea had whittled my desire down to nothing.

  But the rounded, luscious hips on this one remind me of the last woman I was with.

  “So happy you made it. I was just about to call and reschedu...”

  She turns, and I shake my head in disbelief, but manage to spit out a couple words. “Hi, Bennie.”

  “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  This was unexpected.

  I had no idea Bennie Garcia would be my new therapist.

  If I’d know, I would have wheeled myself all the way home.

  Not that she’s not hot. She was a great fuck, but other than that we’ve got nothing in common, as we’d discovered fighting about everything at my brother’s engagement party back on New Year’s Eve when I was home on leave.