“No, it’s not. It was totally insensitive and I’m so, so sorry.” I can hear the worry in her tone but suddenly she seems far away like I’ve just gone underwater.
My family has spent my whole childhood trying to protect me from the memory of that day. It was the event that signaled the start of my anxiety. No amount of counting has ever been able to bring me back to the person I was before it happened.
Maybe if we’d talked about it more, the anxiety wouldn’t have started and subsequently taken over my life. I decide to try to break the wall of silence. “What do you know about that day?”
Emmie carefully answers, “I know some lady tried to lure you out to her car by promising you a kitten.”
Her words trigger an avalanche of memories. My family was on vacation in Georgia for a long weekend. We were doing all kinds of touristy things like going to the aquarium and taking the Martin Luther King Jr. walking tour. We’d stopped for lunch after the dolphin show and that’s when it happened.
After ordering my standard grilled cheese and french fries, I told everyone I had to use the bathroom. When I didn’t come back right away, Mama got up to look for me. She raised the alarm when she didn’t find me where I was supposed to be. Luckily, she ran out of the restaurant in time to see a woman open her trunk and a man get out of the driver’s side. It appeared that they were going to shove me inside.
My mama screamed so loud they both got into the car and took off without me. I still remember the license plate number, 246810—all even numbers.
Emmie says again, “I’m so sorry I brought that up. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Doesn’t it seem weird that no one ever talks about it? Why haven’t we ever discussed it?” I ask.
“No one wants you to relive any of it.”
“But I changed after it happened. I was scared to death to go anywhere and I couldn’t do a lot of the things I did before.”
“Like what?” she asks.
“I never wanted to leave the house after dark. And remember how I never wanted to be alone? I swear I spent more time sleeping with my Mama and Daddy than I spent in my own bed. That went on for over a year.” For some reason, heights were also a thing of the past for me. I wouldn’t go higher than three stories which is why going to the top of Gateway Arch was such an accomplishment.
“I was only seven when it happened,” Emmie says. “I don’t really remember who you were before. I just know you had a few peculiarities. You know, like the counting thing.” I must have counted odd numbers as a way to suppress the memory of that license plate—like focusing on them could abolish the realty of that day.
I tell Emmie, “I tried really hard to act like I did before it happened so I could pretend it didn’t.” Of course, that didn’t work. I wonder if I’d done such a good job acting that I’d convinced my parents I was fine and that’s why we never talked about it.
A wall of anger washes over me. Who in the world would try to take a child? It makes me physically sick to my stomach to even think about.
“Did anyone ever tell you about the people?” I want to know. “I know Mama called the police and gave them the license number, but she never told me what happened after that.”
“I overheard our parents talking years later,” she says. “They said the woman had a little girl who’d died in a car accident. She said you reminded her a lot of her daughter, but she never confessed that they were going to take you.” She adds, “The police found rope and duct tape in the trunk, but it wasn’t enough to arrest them on.”
Mama and Daddy always said that Mama had just panicked when she screamed and there probably were kittens in that trunk for me to look at. I never believed that though, which is why I think I became afraid of everything.
“How about the man who was with her?” I ask. He’s been the source of some particularly nasty speculation on my part over the years.
“He was the woman’s husband, the step-daddy to the little girl that died. He was driving the car when it happened.” He must have felt so guilty that he agreed to help his wife take another child. It’s sick and sad at the same time.
“Emmie, I’ve gotta go,” I tell her before hanging up. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience, like I’ve floated up to the ceiling and am looking down on myself. I don’t look right. Before I can come back to my senses, everything goes black.
The next thing I know, I’m lying on the floor and my cousin is standing over me. “What are you doing here?” I’m immediately grateful Emmie has a copy of my keys.
“You didn’t sound right when you hung up.” Clearly I wasn’t as I fainted right afterward. “You want me to call your mama and daddy?”
“Oh, my word, no,” I tell her. That’s the last thing I want. We’ve all spent the last twenty-plus years in some seriously weird denial, I do not want to bring this up with them now, at least not until I know how I feel. “I’ll be fine in just a minute or two,” I tell her. “If I’m not, I’ll have you drop me at Mama and Daddy’s, okay?”
“Okay.” I don’t think she’s buying what I’m selling, but I’m not lying. I’m not going to stay by myself if I don’t think I can handle it; I’m done trying to fake my way through tough times. Clearly, I’m not doing such a great job at it.
After we order a pizza and open a bottle of wine, we sit on the couch and talk for hours. I confess, “I feel a lot better now.”
“Had I known you were suffering so much anxiety, I would have brought it up long before now,” Emmie says. I marvel at my acting abilities. Had there been a window inside my brain, no one would have never thought I was okay.
Surprisingly, the more my cousin and I talk about what happened, the stronger I feel. I’m not about to go on a cruise during hurricane season or take flying lessons, but I feel the thick layer of worry that I’ve padded myself with begin to lighten.
I’m not sure if I’m going to go talk to someone else or not—family or therapist. Right now, it just feels so good to talk openly to Emmie about things. I don’t let myself think farther; the whole cart and horse scenario of Myrah’s comes to mind.
It’s nearly ten o’clock when I convince Emmie that she can leave. She gives me a hug and says, “I’m here any time you need me.”
“Thank you, truly.” I watch as she walks down the stairs before closing the door. Like a declaration that I’m not going to let fear rule my life anymore, I only lock two of the four locks before taking myself off to bed. It’s been a big day, and I can’t wait to turn my brain off for a while.
Evidently, I don’t turn it off so much as redirect it, as I fall asleep thinking about the rock star. I go so far as to let myself think there might really be a future for us, giving in to the fantasy that he and Maggie miraculously decide to move to Missouri.
Chapter 40
I wake up this morning emotionally lighter.
Taking the bull by the horns, I pick up the phone and hit Huck’s number. He complained that I didn’t call him so I’m going to break my rule about calling boys. We had such a great time yesterday that I find I’m looking forward to seeing him again, very soon. Maybe even today. The call goes directly to voicemail. “Hey. I just wanted to let you know that I had a great time yesterday. Thanks for inviting me along. Also, please note that I called you.” Then I hang up.
After letting Mrs. P into the shop, I ask, “Would you mind watching things for a bit? I want to go home and see my mama and daddy.”
“Honey, you take as long as you need. I brought a good book along to pass the time if there aren’t a bunch of customers.” She called that one right. Monday mornings are notoriously slow in town.
Twenty minutes later, I walk through my folks’ front door. They’re getting a late start to their morning like they do every Monday and are sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee.
“Hey, y’all,” I greet.
“Amelia!” Mama jumps to her feet and grabs another mug. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“I
just wanted to stop by and see you.”
She looks distrustful of my answer. Stopping by out of the blue isn’t something I’m known for doing. “You want a cup of tea?” she asks.
“No, I’m good.” Then I just dive in. “I want to talk to y’all about what happened in Atlanta when I was a girl.”
My daddy looks up from his paper, and slowly folds it while wearing an anxious expression. “What do you want to know, honey?”
“I want to know why we’ve never discussed it. Emmie thinks it’s because you thought I might forget if no one ever mentioned it.”
Mama looks guilty. “Oh, sugar, I’m so sorry. We were wrong. I guess we didn’t want you to know what we suspected because we didn’t want to make it harder on you. We wanted to protect you.”
I nod my head slowly. “I don’t think I ever let on how much that day changed me.” I tell them about being afraid of everything from stepping on cracks to worrying about the stove being left on and the house burning down. I don’t spare any details. I want them to know, I need them to know.
Tears roll down my mama’s face. “Oh baby, I knew you had some nightmares and that you used to sleep with us a lot. I knew you took up that crazy counting, but I didn’t know about everything else.”
“I didn’t want you to,” I tell her. “I know you were both worried about me and I figured that if I didn’t act any differently then maybe I could go back to being me at some point.”
“Your daddy and I feel just awful,” Mama says. I know they do, too. They both look sad and deflated, like they’ve been sucker punched by my confession.
“I’m grateful all the time that things weren’t worse, Mama. I hear stories on the news and read articles that make me feel like the luckiest person alive. I just always felt so vulnerable, like I didn’t have any control over what happened to me.”
I finally sit down at the table and tell them, “I used to look at people everywhere we went and wonder if they were going to try to kidnap me, too. I worried that they would and then I’d be gone forever.”
My daddy gets up and comes over to wrap his arms around me. “Oh honey, we never knew. We failed you.”
“I don’t want to live in fear anymore,” I tell them. “I think I probably need to talk to a therapist or something. I want more for myself than the half-life I’ve been living.”
Mama starts to sob openly. “We’ll do anything we can to help. We’ll go with you if you want; you can move back home. Amelia, honey, just name it and we’ll do it.”
“Thank you, Mama. I have to do the work myself, but just knowing y’all have my back means the world. We can’t pretend this never happened, okay? I need to feel like I can talk about it if I want to,” I tell them.
They nod their heads in unison. Mama says, “We are always here for you, baby. I hate to think you ever felt otherwise.”
“What in the world got you and Emmie talking about that day?” my daddy asks after we manage to run out of tears.
So, I tell them. I tell them all about how afraid I am to go anywhere and how Myrah told me I had to take it one step at a time. I share how I went to St. Louis with Huck and Maggie and how I went to the top of the arch. I even mention Aiden being there.
“I don’t know if I blew my chance at happiness by letting Aiden go, but I do know that I’m going to keep trying to find the person that I’m meant to be with.”
Mama says, “It seems to me that you’re willing to do a lot more for Huck Wiley than you were ever willing to do for Aiden Quinn, and in a much shorter amount of time. Doesn’t that say something?”
“I didn’t do it for Huck,” I tell her. “I did it because I wanted to be a good role model for Maggie. She was afraid and I wanted to show her that you have to face your fears in life. It was an agonizingly hard thing to do.”
I realize I need to go see Huck and Maggie. I’m not going to tell them what happened to me just yet, and I may never tell Maggie because I don’t want to give her something else to be anxious about, but I am going to thank them for pushing me to face a giant obstacle in my life.
I kiss my folks goodbye before leaving. On my way to Lexi’s, I feel a euphoria overtake me that I don’t think I’ve ever felt before. Suddenly my future feels brighter than I could have ever imagined.
Chapter 41
I hurry up to Lexi’s front door and ring the bell three times in rapid succession, but no one answers. Huck’s rental car is in the driveway, so he should be here even though he didn’t pick up my phone call. I wait five minutes before going back to the car to get my phone. I dial Lexi’s number first, only to have it go into voicemail. I call my brother next.
He answers after two rings. “Hey, sis. What’s up?”
“Where’s Lexi?” I ask.
“She’s driving Huck and Maggie to the airport.”
“What do you mean she’s driving them to the airport? Where are they going?” My happiness drains out of me like somebody pulled the plug in a bathtub.
“I think to New York.”
“Why?” I demand somewhat loudly. I try to soften my reaction by saying, “What I mean to say is that I spent the day with them yesterday and they never said anything about leaving town today.”
“I think it’s a spur-of-the-moment thing,” he says. “They’ll probably be back in a couple of days.”
This is the second time Huck Wiley has picked up and left town without telling me. I can almost forgive him for the first time, but this time I definitely deserved to be notified.
I hang up with my brother and immediately call Huck. He answers, “Amelia, good morning.” He sounds distant.
“Good morning? Is that all you have to say to me?” I’m suddenly so mad I could spit bullets.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me why you’re on your way to the airport,” I demand. “Were you even going to call me this time to let me know you were leaving?”
“Amelia.” He says my name again.
“Huck.”
“I have some business I need to attend to. Why is that upsetting you?”
“Because you didn’t call me.” Even to my own ears I sound like a petulant child who may or may not be overreacting. I suppose it all depends whether or not he’s running off to meet another mystery woman.
“I haven’t had a chance. I got a call, I booked airline tickets, and now I’m on the way to the airport. When exactly did you expect me to notify you?”
“Do you do this all the time?” I demand. “Just pick up and leave?” Suddenly, I’m doubting my ability to be in any kind of relationship with him, including friendship. I don’t like people coming and going. I’ve just reached the point where I’m ready to face my problems, but in the meantime, I’m still a person who needs stability.
“I normally have more notice than this, but there were extenuating circumstances.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I have some personal matters to take care of,” he says slowly and cautiously like he’s talking to a stranger.
I feel an all too familiar pressure begin to build in my chest. “What personal matters?”
“It’s nothing I’m able to discuss at the moment.”
Before I can stop myself, I angrily blurt out, “What, did you get another fan pregnant?” I know once the words pass my lips, I’ve done the unthinkable. But nothing in the world could have stopped me from saying that once the thought popped into my mind.
“Excuse me?” Huck says, sounding madder than I’ve ever heard him. “What in the world gives you the right to ask me that question?”
I don’t have a good answer, being that we aren’t even officially a couple yet. Feeling equal parts annoyed and dejected, I finally say, “Nothing gives me the right. All I know is that I had a wonderful day with you and Maggie yesterday and I wanted to see you this morning, so I came over to Lexi’s, and you’re not here. You’re on your way to New York.” I’m so disappointed, I want to cry.
“W
e had a very nice time with you as well,” he says slowly. “Which is why I find your current demeanor unsettling.”
“Well, I’m unsettled, too, which is made worse by the fact that you won’t tell me what’s going on.”
His voice drops and he practically growls into the telephone, “I’m in a car with my daughter and Lexi. I do not think this is the time for this discussion.”
“Fine,” I say. “Why don’t you call me back when you think you can fit me in.” I turn off my phone before he has a chance to reply.
What have I just done? I should have given the man a chance to tell me what’s what. Instead, I turned into some kind of crazed lunatic. Given his distrust of women as a species, I’ve probably ruined any chance of a future. My god, I’m like relationship kryptonite.
I can’t bring myself to turn on my ignition and go back to work. I should call Huck and apologize. I should explain what’s happened to me since I saw him yesterday, but as he mentioned, he’s in a car with other people. This isn’t the time.
I get out of my car and walk back up to Lexi’s porch and sit on her swing. I set it into motion like I did on the night Huck and I sat here—the night I shared things with him that I’ve never told another living soul.
I opened myself up in the most vulnerable way to a man I’ve idolized for most of my adult life. And you know what? He didn’t run; he listened. He didn’t make me feel crazy; he made me feel valuable.
And now I’ve been offensive and probably run him off.
I hope he gives me a chance to explain.
Chapter 42
Huck and Maggie are gone for three days.
Three excruciating days where I spend hours upon hours kicking myself for being such an idiot. First, I push Aiden out of my life, and now I’m working hard to alienate Huck. What’s wrong with me?
Actually, I know what’s wrong with me. I spend a good amount of time trying to figure out what I am going to do about it. I start by calling a local therapist and setting up an appointment. I’m done trying to navigate this terrain without some professional help.
The Plan: A Sweet and Sexy Rock Star Romantic Comedy (The Creek Water Series Book 3) Page 17
