Break Through

by Amber Garza

  “Mom will be here in a minute with the tea,” I mumbled.

  “Alright.” He smiled a little too cheerily. Maybe that’s what I didn’t like about him. He was too eager, too friendly, too fake. “Ready to get started?”

  I nodded, my lips pressed tightly together.

  “Tell me a little more about the years you spent in captivity.”

  Way to jump right into it. My stomach tightened. “I told you last time. It was awful. I spent all my time indoors, locked in a bedroom mostly.”

  “How often did you see Kurt?”

  I sucked in a breath. That was his name. Kurt. So normal. So boring. So not what you expected a kidnapper to be named. I played with the fingers in my lap. They were slick with sweat. Cold sweat as if I’d held them under icy water. “Often enough.”

  “Here is some tea for you two.” I was grateful for Mom’s diversion. Maybe when she left he’d forget this line of questioning and we could talk about something else. Anything else. Mom set down a tray with two tea cups and a teapot on it. Neil thanked her and then reached out to pick up one of the dainty ceramic cups. It looked funny in his thick fingers. After he took a sip, Mom floated out of the room, her long skirt touching the floor and giving the impression that she had no feet.

  Neil set the cup down and then looked at me. “Did he ever, you know, try anything on you?” Apparently the slight pause did nothing to deter him.

  I knew what he was insinuating. It was disgusting that he would even ask the question at all. “No. He didn’t,” I spoke through gritted teeth.

  “He didn’t?” He raised his eyebrows in an incredulous look like he didn’t believe me.

  It made me want to punch him in his smug face. I fisted my hands at my sides, and narrowed my eyes at him.

  He cleared his throat. “What was Kurt like?”

  The door creaked open. I was huddled in the corner, afraid to move. With my head bent, I refused to look at him. My body trembled a little. I smelled like pee.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  My head snapped up at his words. I’d been here how long? Two, three days? And he hadn’t spoken to me once. He came in a few times a day, left me food and then hurried out of the room. At first I had tried to beg him to take me home. He never responded. However, the sound of the locks bolting me inside was answer enough. The room was filled with stuffed animals and dolls. Their beady eyes stared at me, lifeless and hollow. Their mouths were fixed into perpetual smiles. A bed with a large canopy and a floral bedspread with lace around the edges sat in the corner. I hadn’t touched anything though. This wasn’t my room. This wasn’t my home. And I refused to behave like it was. I’d stay huddled in this corner until he took me home. Until he let me leave.

  Peering through my hair that fell across my face, I watched him lower a plate of food onto the carpet. My stomach growled, but I didn’t move forward. It’s not like I wanted his nasty food anyway. I missed my mom’s cooking. I missed everything about my life. A tear trickled from my eye.

  “It’s okay,” he spoke in the same soothing tone he used when he came to our house. After setting down the plate, he moved toward me.

  My pulse quickened, my palms moistening. The closer he got, the more I curled in on myself like an accordion. A thick hand landed on my shoulder, and I flinched.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

  When I dared to look at him he smiled in a creepy way that made my skin crawl. Funny how I had found that same smile endearing just last week. “P—p-please take me home,” I whispered in a shaky voice.

  His eyes darkened, turning almost black. The hand on my shoulder clamped down harder, his nails digging into my flesh. “This is your home now.” Glaring, he stood up, and his knees cracked. His shadow cast over me as he turned away. I held my breath until he was safely out of the room. Only then did I allow my chest to expand. Only then did I give myself permission to cry.

  “He was a monster. He was evil.”

  “How so?”

  Really? For starters, he kidnapped me. I bit back the angry remark, and breathed deeply in an effort to calm my nerves. Only it was a losing battle. The adrenaline was already pumping through me. I looked down to see my hands shaking. Oh, shit. I was going to have a panic attack right here in front of Neil. I could already feel my heart palpitating and my breath constricting.

  “Are you okay?” Neil’s voice sounded far away. “Aspen?”

  I reached down, digging my hands in the couch cushions. My breath came out in short gasps. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pictured the backyard – bright pink petals, dark green leaves, warm sunshine. But in the midst of all of it was his face, his smile, his dark eyes. My entire body was trembling now. Dizziness swept over me, and my heart exploded in my chest like a dozen firecrackers.

  “What’s going on?” A male’s voice spoke in what sounded like a tunnel.

  “I don’t know. I was just interviewing her,” Neil responded.

  “Well, the interview’s over.”

  “W-what?” Neil sputtered.

  “You heard me,” the man said. “You’re done for today.”

  “But we just got started.”

  “And now you just finished.” There was a finality in his voice that even Neil didn’t want to argue with.

  I forced my eyes open. Carter stood in the middle of my family room, camera slung around his neck. His eyes met mine, and my heart slowed a little. Neil stood up, gathering his notepad and shoving it angrily into his briefcase. Mom lingered in the doorway, appearing flustered.

  “You okay?” Carter dropped onto the couch next to me, concern written in the lines of his face.

  The longer I stared at him, the more even my breathing became. My hands stilled as my heart resumed its normal cadence. “I am now.”

  FOUR

  While Mom ushered Neil out, apologizing profusely for my behavior, Carter leaned closer to me. His musky scent lingered, causing my pulse to race.

  “What happened?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t like the questions he was asking. They brought back too many unwanted memories.” Hugging myself, I lowered my gaze. “I know he was only doing his job, but I’m not used to talking about what happened back then. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I’m not ready to talk about it. Perhaps I never will be.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Neil’s kind of a jerk.”

  My head bobbed up to look at him, surprised by his words.

  “He doesn’t know a thing about how to talk to a lady.” Carter smiled. “What do you say we forget about Neil and focus on your flowers? We don’t have to take pictures if you don’t want to. But you did promised to help me figure out what I’m doing wrong with my plants, and I plan to collect on that promise.”

  Calm blanketed me. “Okay.” I stood up.

  Carter set his camera down on the couch when he stood up.

  “It’s alright.” My gaze flickered down to the camera. “You can take pictures if you want.”

  “You sure?” He raised an eyebrow, and damn if I didn’t think it was sexy.

  “I’m sure.” I nodded.

  We passed Mom on the way to the back door. Her face held a look of bewilderment. She grabbed my arm before I could head outside. Then she smiled at Carter. “You go ahead. I need a word with Aspen.”

  Carter subtly nodded his head and then slipped outside.

  “What is going on with you?” Mom asked, her brows furrowed together. “First you send the reporter off, and now you’re going outside to take more pictures with Carter? I can’t figure you out. Are you doing the article or not?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “All I know is that I promised to teach Carter about flowers and that’s what I’m going to do.” Without another word, I hurried outside. I knew Mom was watching me from the window, but I didn’t turn back around. Let her wonder. For the first time in ten years I was doing something solely for me, not to please my parents or because it was expected. Frankly, it
felt good. I didn’t know if it was smart to spend time with Carter, but for once I didn’t want to analyze the hell out of it. I wanted to let go and enjoy the moment. Something I wasn’t very good at. Something I rarely ever did.

  “These are impatiens, right?” Carter pointed to the flowers lining the back patio.

  I nodded.

  “I planted some of these in my yard, but they never got this tall. They shriveled up and died within two weeks of planting them.”

  I glided across the back patio in my bare feet until I met Carter on the grass. “You have to water them a lot or they get dried out.”

  Carter scratched the back of his neck. “But last spring I watered the hell out of my flowers and they died too.”

  I giggled. “You probably over watered them, then.”

  “Over watered? Under watered? Who knew plants were so high maintenance. I should’ve gotten a dog instead.”

  Amused, I smiled at his statement. I had no desire to have a dog. That seemed like too much responsibility for me. No, I’d stick to my flowers, thank you very much. “Flowers are like people. They all have different temperaments and respond to different things.” Carter eyed me funny, and my cheeks flamed. He probably thought I was crazy. Reaching down, I touched the edge of a red petal. It was soft against my fingertip. Without looking at him, I continued with my train of thought. “You have to gauge their reaction.”

  “Their reaction? I didn’t realize plants could react.”

  I ignored his incredulous tone. “Yeah.” I shrugged, pulling my hand back. “Of course they can. Yours did.” My eyes met his. “They died.”

  He had a funny expression on his face, appearing a little embarrassed by my words.

  It made me feel bad, and I scrambled to fix it. Scanning the yard, I found what I was looking for. Quickly I made my way across the lawn and pointed to a large plant in the corner. Its leaves were turning a bright shade of yellow. “Take this plant, for instance. The leaves should be dark green, not yellow. But this plant is reacting to the fact that I haven’t watered it enough this week. Also, I think it needs more sunlight than it’s been getting.” Squinting, I looked up at the sky. The sun was shining brightly, but this plant was shrouded in the shade of the large tree nearby. “I’ll probably move it over a little bit and then water it.”

  I could feel Carter’s eyes on me as I trekked over to the shed on the side of the house to grab out my gardening tools. Once I’d snatched up my gloves, shovel and rake, I headed back over to the dying plant. I set down the shovel and rake and pulled the gloves over my hands. “It takes patience and time to learn what works for every plant.”

  “Time and patience, huh?” Carter said sourly. “I’m starting to think I should hire a landscaper.”

  “I could help you.” I was surprised by the words as they left my mouth. It was almost as if I hadn’t spoken them. Like I was a puppet and someone else was pulling the strings.

  “I’d like that,” he answered, surprising me even further.

  Were we really having this conversation?

  Clearing my throat, I reached for the shovel.

  “Mind if I take a couple of shots?”

  I hesitated. Holding the shovel in my hand, I glanced over at Carter. He had the camera poised and ready. My heart fluttered in my chest like a bird beating its wings in an effort to fly out of my ribcage. There was something exhilarating about having Carter snap my picture. Something exciting about knowing that he was capturing my likeness; that he was studying me and trying to get the perfect shot. It didn’t make any sense. I should’ve hated it. It should’ve made me uncomfortable, but for some reason it didn’t. Not at all.

  “Sure,” I finally answered. Then I pushed the shovel into the dirt around the root of the plant. As I dug up the plant, Carter fired off several rounds of photos. Sweat glistened on my forehead in the hot sun, and I wiped it with the back of my hand. While I dug a new hole for the plant in the direct path of the sun, I heard the back door open and close. Over my shoulder I saw Mom making her way toward us. She carried two cups of iced water in her hands.

  “Thirsty?” Her voice dripped with sweetness, but she wore a look of disdain on her face.

  Carter reached for a glass and thanked her. As my fist closed around the cool glass, I realized how thirsty I was. My throat was parched. I took a huge gulp, allowing the cold liquid to coat my tongue and slide down my throat. I drained the entire contents in less than a minute.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I shoved the empty glass into her hand and resumed digging.

  Her expression darkened as she headed back into the house. Carter took a couple more sips of his water before setting the half empty glass down in the grass. The thick reeds stuck to the sides of it. His face hid behind the camera once again, and I went back to work.

  “What did Neil say that upset you so much?” Carter asked in a gentle tone, the click of the camera slicing through his words.

  I bit my lip as I dropped the plant into the newly dug hole. “He was asking me what my kidnapper was like.”

  “Seriously? What kind of question is that? Clearly the guy was a sick bastard. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

  My head bounced up, my throat thick. Nodding, I felt my lips tug a little at the edges. “Thank you.” He lowered his camera, and our gazes locked like invisible hands tethered together. I felt it like a tangible thing, like his eyes were fingers touching me, softly, gently. A breeze kicked up, picking his hair off his forehead. Still he didn’t move. Neither of us did. My hair flickered over my cheek, the tendrils tickling my tender flesh. But I kept my eyes glued to his, watching him through the blond strands as they danced across my line of vision. A butterfly flew past me catching my attention, and the moment was broken. “Too bad you aren’t the one interviewing me,” I muttered as I shoveled dirt over the root.

  “Maybe I could be.”

  “What?”

  “I could talk to the editor and see if he’d let me take over for Neil.”

  “But you’re a photographer.” I raised my eyebrows, perplexed.

  Carter dropped the camera, holding it by his side, and took a step closer to me. “Look, if you don’t want to do this article, I’ll respect that. I know it must be tough to relive all of this. I understand your desire to leave it all in the past, keep it buried and move on.”

  His words hit their mark. He did know. I could tell. Something had happened to him. Something he wished he could forget. It was why he was so patient and kind with me. Clearly Neil had never endured anything like that.

  “But I think it might help you to do this. Maybe this article will give you the closure you need.”

  It was similar to what Mom had said, and I wondered if it was true. Carter certainly made me want to believe it.

  He took another step toward me, and my pulse quickened. His proximity made my head spin. Reaching up, I ran a hand through my hair in an effort to steady myself. However, I still had on my gloves so all I succeeded in doing was getting dirt on my head. I peeled the gloves off and dropped them by my feet.

  “Truth is, I don’t think Neil is the right reporter,” he continued. “But it seems like you feel comfortable with me. Do you?” I nodded in response, and his lips curled upward. “I know I’m not a reporter, but I still think I can get the editor to agree to let me do the interview. Neil doesn’t even live here in town so the magazine is having to put him up in a hotel. He works for the National View so he lives in Sacramento where the office is located. But I live here, so it’s more convenient.”

  “In Red Blossom?” I asked. “And you work all the way in Sacramento?”

  He shook his head. “No, I do freelance work for the National View, among other publications.”

  “Oh. Right.” I remembered all the magazines sprinkling our coffee table.

  Carter winked. “I’ll even offer to do the interview portion for free. They’ll jump at it because it’ll save them some money.” His face grew serious. “But it’s up to you. I w
on’t do anything without your permission. I want you to feel comfortable with this. If you don’t, I’ll leave and never bother you again. I’ll delete these pictures and we can pretend this whole thing never happened.”

  My chest tightened. I didn’t want Carter to leave and never come back. And I didn’t want him to delete the pictures. For the first time in ten years, I didn’t want to hide. “No, don’t do that,” I said a little breathlessly. “I mean, I would hate for you to delete the pictures after you’ve worked so hard on them.” With my free hand, I played with the bottom of my t-shirt. “And I guess it would be fine to talk to you.”

  “Great. I’ll work everything out.” Carter smiled. “And I’m planning on taking you up on your offer if it still stands.”

  “What offer?”

  “To help me with my plants. I’ll even pay you if you’d like.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly.” I batted away his words with a flick of my wrist. “I’ll do it for free.”

  “Ok.” He plucked the glass of water out of the grass. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I watched him as he headed back into the house. My eyes roamed over his wide shoulders and dark brown hair, and I wondered what the hell I’d agreed to.

  FIVE

  “I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Aspen,” Mom said as we sat down for dinner.

  Mom and Dad sat at opposite ends of our large dining table while I sat in the middle. When I was younger I used to imagine that we lived in a castle and Mom and Dad were the king and queen. It certainly felt like it with the ornate high back chairs and the distance between us. As an adult I’d encouraged Mom to take out the leaves in the middle of the table to make it smaller, but she refused.

  “It’s the perfect size for when we have company over,” she always said. I didn’t bother mentioning that we rarely ever entertained anymore. Not after the kidnapping.

  Our lives had been divided into two parts - before and after the kidnapping. Even though we were the same people, nothing about our lives felt the same at all. I may have been the one taken, but we were all irrevocably changed.