by Alexa Davis
Luckily, I had a friend that I could do that with.
I put in a call to the office receptionist, telling her I was too sick to come in. It was a shock to her because I’d never pulled a sick day before, but she acted professional all the same. She told me to get better soon, and that she would reschedule all my appointments for another day, for which I was extremely grateful. It gave me the whole day to sort myself out.
For a split second, I wondered what Ashlee would think about me being away, before shaking that thought from my mind. I couldn't worry about her, not right now; I needed to be concerned about organizing my brain space instead.
I called Willy, and luckily for me he answered on the first ring, as if he’d been waiting for me to finally get in touch.
“Hey, dude, you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.
“Hi, Willy, can I come out on the boat with you today? I really need some space.”
He answered positively, lifting my spirits, so by the time I’d hung up the phone, I felt a whole lot better about everything.
*****
The sun beat down on my shoulders, warming me. As soon as the boat got out onto to ocean, I felt my blood pressure lower, the knot of anxiety loosen, and the real Matthew float back to the surface. I couldn't be myself back at the office, around the public, but with my best friend, I could just be me, and that felt incredible.
“So, are you okay?” Willy eventually asked once our lines were in the water. “You’ve been a little...off the grid recently. I’ve been worried.”
“It’s just the fucking money,” I told him through gritted teeth. “I mean, it feels good to have it in my account, and to know that I can do a lot of good with it, but it’s a massive pressure, too. Like, people are crawling out of the woodwork, asking for stuff, piling it all on, and I can’t deal.” I sighed deeply, accepting defeat. “This is the most normal that I’ve felt in ages.”
“It’ll all blow over,” he tried his best to reassure me. “You’ll forget about all this bullshit soon enough, and all that you’ll be left with is the good stuff. That’ll happen; you’ll see.” I nodded at that, desperately hoping that he was right. I needed to get to that stage; this stage was damn near killing me.
“You’ll still have the same people that have always been there.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully, before speaking out once more. “Speaking of which, Ashlee was pretty bummed that you weren’t at the bar last night.”
Urgh, Ashlee...what the fuck am I going to do about her?
My head was still all over the place when it came to her, and Terri had made that worse. Would she only care about me now because of the cash? Would that be all I ever was to her?
“I don't know about Ashlee,” I told him seriously. “It seems like she was only ready to forgive me and actually listen to me once I won the money. I don't know if she actually likes me, or if she just wants me now that I’m rich.”
As I said those words aloud, I realized how damn paranoid I sounded. This wasn't just some random chick: this was Ashlee Baker, the girl that I had such a rich history with, the one that had been there for me for years. What the fuck had happened to me? How had the money already managed to destroy me?
“Dude, don't forget that Ashlee loved you way back when. She adored you back in the day when you could only afford one sock at a time. There’s no way a girl like that would only want you for your money.”
Damn it, it was so obvious. Why couldn't I see it? I imagined how pissed off Ashlee’s dad would be to know that I hadn’t trusted his daughter when she’d given me no reason to be doubtful, and it sickened me.
I was a dickhead. Once more I’d made a total fucking mistake.
“Shit, dude.” I held my head in my hands as everything swirled around me. “Do you think that it’s fixable? I mean, when I screwed up last time, everything fell apart.”
“You were kids back then,” Willy clapped my back and forced me to look up at him. “You’ve both grown up a whole lot. Things are very different. If you both want it to work, then it will.”
Urgh, what a fucking idiot I was. I’d made the decision to shut the door on something that I’d always wanted, just because I was scared. I was afraid Ashlee would turn out to be just like everyone else, even though I already knew she wasn't. I loved this girl, I always had, and it felt like I always would. I had to grasp onto that before it was too late, before I really did lose her forever.
“Look, did you want to go home?” Willy asked me, seeming to sense where my mind was at. “It looks like it’s about to rain anyway, so there isn’t much point in sitting out on the water.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I smiled at him gratefully. “I feel a lot better now; I think it’s just time to get sorted.” Plus, there was still a lot of the good stuff that I needed to do, such as buying Willy his boat, but of course, I wasn't going to say that part aloud. I wanted that bit to be a surprise. “But this has been awesome, even though we haven’t actually caught anything.”
“If it helps,” Willy grinned cheekily. “You will always be ‘one sock’ Matt to me.”
That statement had me roaring with laughter. Of course, not everyone’s opinion of me would change because of the money; I had to remember that. I needed to focus more on the people that had always been there, and that always would be, rather than those who were about to cling on. I had real friends, real connections, and those were the ones that I needed to cling onto.
And that included Ashlee. I should have known that. I had a whole lot of making up to do.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ashlee
Tuesday
The fact that Matthew wasn't at work made me feel like crap. Even if no one else could see it, it was totally obvious to me that he was going out of his way to avoid me.
Had I managed to blow it by accusing him of sleeping with Kerri and fathering her child? Things had certainly gone downhill since then. Or was I looking too deeply into it and this was all just to do with what Willy had told me? Was this all about his internal despair?
Every time I thought I knew what the hell was going on with Matthew and me, something else threw a wrench into the works.
As I lay in my bed the previous night, ever so slightly tipsy, looking through my yearbook photographs and remembering my mother’s story, I concluded that I would do whatever it took to be there for Matthew. I would be patient, kind, caring... I would do whatever he wanted, but how the hell could I do anything good if he was never going to be around me again?
“Are you free at the moment?” Ms. Peters asked me. “I’m sorry, I know that you’re very busy?”
“No, of course, I can do anything,” I stood up, grinning at her. Mary Peters really was a blessing in disguise around this place. She brought up the mood, rather than constantly dragging it down like Terri had done, and she always had cookies with her. Considering the confusion that I’d been experiencing, which coincided with her start date, the constant access to sugary treats was extremely welcome. “What do you need?”
“I have a little boy about to come in for his shots, Jago Lee he’s called. It says in his notes that he’s very nervous about needles, and considering I’m a new face, I figured that wouldn’t help much, so I was wondering if you could come in the room with me? It shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes.”
“Well, I am a new face, too, but I’ll give it a shot.” My heart thundered in my chest as the next question fell past my lips. I already knew the answer to it, but I figured it might give me a little more insight. “Is Matthew not here? The kids know him very well.”
She bustled off and I followed closely behind her, not wanting to miss her answer. This was something that I could casually ask once without looking suspicious, but if I had to ask it again, Mary might suspect that something is up, and that my interest is something other than purely professional.
“I think he’s sick,” she called back to me. “I’m pretty sure he called in earlier this morning to have all of his appoi
ntments rescheduled.”
Matthew wasn't sick – that much I was certain of. That man seemed to have the immune system of an ox, which must have helped him working around the sick. When we were in school, he was never the one that caught anything; he managed to avoid all the viruses, all the bugs, all the colds... It used to drive me insane, especially as I seemed to be a magnet for things. It had gotten better as I got older, but I was still nowhere near as strong as he was.
Either he was avoiding me, or the money had made him depressed.
When I went in to his office to speak to him about everything, I didn’t even thank him for the roofing contractor, who was doing an amazing job of fixing up our house, because I hadn’t wanted to talk about his winnings unless he wanted to.
Now I was starting to see that might have been a mistake, a missed opportunity to help him out. Would it be totally weird if I went to him after work to try and sort things out, or would that be an intrusion on his personal space?
There it was again, the frustration at never knowing what the right thing to do was. It was helping me to see that not everything was black and white, that not everything was one person’s fault, and that made me needier for him than ever.
As we walked out into the waiting room, I found a young boy cowering on his mother’s lap, leaning into her chest as if he was about to face torture – and to some kids, shots really seemed that way.
“Hello there, Jago,” I knelt and grinned at him. I had a lot of experience with difficult children because, often, speech therapy wasn't very popular. Anything that took a child out of their comfort zone didn’t seem to go down well. “How are you feeling?”
“Don't wanna,” he insisted, pouting out his lip, moving closer to his mom, who didn’t seem to know what to do. She clearly wanted to hug him tighter, but she also needed him to get his shot, so she didn’t want to baby him too much.
I chuckled lightly, already knowing that this was going to be one stubborn little boy, and there was only one thing to help with that: a reward. Yes, offering the child sweets was bribery, and maybe not the best idea in the opinions of some, but a lot of the time it was the only way to get things done. Food was key, and as long as we only offered things that were sugar free, I didn’t see the harm.
“Okay,” I nodded, smiling at him. “I understand, you don't want to come with me. But I do think that’s a shame.” He sat up a little, becoming intrigued with what I was going to tell him. This was going to be easy, and even more so when I spotted the soldiers dotted over his shoes. “I really need a big, brave soldier to come with me. I have a very important mission that I need completed...and as soon as it’s done, there’s a sucker as a reward.”
“What... What’s the mission?” he couldn't resist asking, leaning in closer to me, proving that I had him now.
“I need help fighting off the big, red dragon who is hiding in Nurse Peters’ office,” I told him in an excitable tone of voice. “But there is a catch. Whoever is going to help me defeat him needs to have a tiny dot made on their arm. It stings a little, but it’ll protect the soldier from the fiery breath.”
“I’ll do it,” he gasped. “I want to fight a dragon!”
With that, I grinned, took his hand, and led him into the patient room. While we waited, I told him about all the awful deeds that the dragon had done, while the shot was administered, I held his hand and told him to be brave so that he could fight off the dragon’s breath, and once it was done, we played around for a while, acting out killing the monster.
Once he was worn out, and sitting with his reward, his mother grabbed my hand gratefully. “That was amazing,” she said, and happiness laced her tone as she spoke. “I’ve never seen him so calm. Normally, he cries before, during, and for hours afterwards. I can’t believe how well that went. This clinic really is amazing; you really do go the extra mile.”
That comment warmed me up, and helped me to forget about all the drama with Matthew for a just a little bit. It was nice to help and to be appreciated for that – it made all the difference in the world.
*****
I spent the rest of the day with my own patients, and thankfully because of what happened with Jago, I felt like I could throw myself into it a lot more. I became more confident in my abilities, able to focus on what needed to be done, so by the time the office closing hours came around, I felt an odd sense of satisfaction.
However, as everyone else started to pack away their belongings, wanting to go home, all my good feelings simply ebbed away. Much as my day had been productive, I still hadn’t managed to come up with any way to help Matthew. I wanted to do something for him, even if he wasn't currently taking to me, and it was endlessly frustrating that I hadn’t managed to come up with anything.
“Are you coming?” Mary asked me. “Or did you want to lock up?”
“I still have some paperwork to do. I’ll lock up in a little while.” I just wasn't quite ready to go home yet; I still felt like I needed to come up with the perfect solution. Plus, I really did have a lot to do, so I could always get around to that at some point.
Once the office was empty, I found myself wandering from room to room, trying to find that motivation once more. I was sure that I’d be all right once I got started; I just needed to get into the right frame of mind. Simply because I missed him so damn much, I even found myself wandering into Matthew’s office, just to get a feel for him, and that was where the solution came to me.
His office was a real mess – not dirty or anything, he just had stuff everywhere, which I could tidy up and organize for him. Sure, it wasn't much, it would only be a tiny gesture that wouldn’t go too far, but at least then I would feel like I’d done something. I just needed to be productive, even for a second, and this was a great way to do that.
I started off by tossing out his food wrappings and endless notes that clearly didn’t mean anything before moving on to his filing system. Paperwork was an undesirable part of the medical profession, one that was essential, but most of us were too busy to waste too much time putting it away properly. I painstakingly sorted it all out into the relevant files, even color-coding it to make his life that much easier when he returned.
If he was going through a hard time, the last thing he needed was to come back to a mess. Hopefully, this would go some way towards lightening his load.
I got to the point where I couldn't cope any longer without a stapler, and I already knew that my own was clean out of staples, so I tugged open his top drawer, hoping that he would have one there. What I found instead stopped my heart dead in my chest.
It was the picture, the one of us from the high school yearbook. I was on his back, he was carrying me down the hall, and we were both laughing at something ridiculous. It was that pure, carefree moment that defined the way we’d once been before the shit hit the fan.
Matthew stored that picture in his top desk drawer in a frame. This was something he cared about. I stroked the image for a second as another revelation swirled right through me. We were important to one another, me and Matthew – we always had been.
The last time things got difficult, we gave up on one another and went on to live or separate lives. This time, we were being faced with a situation that left us in a similar place, only this time, I wasn't going to give up. I wasn't going to stand back and let Matthew slip away. I was going to go to him, to fight for him, no matter what it took.
I glanced out of the window, noticing the pouring rain, but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I was going to go to him, and make everything right again, whatever it took.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Matthew
Tuesday
I felt a lot better after the fishing trip; it helped me to put things in perspective, so the first thing I did when I got back was to get onto the computer and to delete all those damn emails. I didn’t need any of that negativity in my life, not when I was so focused on moving forward.
Willy was right: this would blow over soon enough
. I just needed to wait out the storm and not get swept away with the tide. When I thought about it like that, it was simple. I just needed an outside perspective to help me see that.
I spent the rest of the day getting my apartment all organized and working out how I wanted to spend the rest of my finances, clearing a whole bunch of room in my head. I felt so much better at the end of it, and I knew for a fact that tomorrow would be a much better day. I would be able to tackle anything now: I was sure of it.
Knock, knock.
At first the sound came so lightly that I assumed it was the wind. I paid it no attention, simply glancing out the window at the shitty weather.
Knock, knock.
Who the hell was at my home at this hour in this horrendous weather? It had to be Willy; I couldn't imagine anyone else coming to see me right then.
I swung the door open, expecting to rib the guy outside, but the person I found was a soaking wet, shivering, yet somehow stunning: Ashlee. Her dark hair was sticking to her face, her clothes were molded against her skin, her makeup was running down her cheeks, and she was still able to stop my heart. I simply stood there for a while, staring at her, wondering how it was possible for every other damn person on the planet to look like a bedraggled rat, yet Ashlee looked incredible.
Then I noticed her chattering teeth, and I snapped back into action.
“Ashlee, are you okay? What are you doing here?” Then, finally, I stepped to one side. “Come in.”
I walked her into the front room before handing her a towel. She still hadn’t said anything yet, and my mind was desperately running with curiosity. It seemed like something important had happened to drag her over here like that.
She quickly rubbed her hair dry a little, before handing me the item in her hand, which was something that I hadn’t realized she was holding before now. It was the photograph that I had in my work desk drawer, the one that I cut out from the high school yearbook as soon as I got my practice. I realized I didn’t give a shit about anyone I went to school with, I only cared about her, so I framed it and kept it as a reminder of what could have been.
