Dr. Norwood’s lips tightened, and I sensed she was going to ask another question. But before she had the chance to pry a little further, I sat forward and shook my head.
“I want these dreams to stop,” I said, biting back tears. “I want to fall asleep, Dr. Norwood—if even for
three hours
—and not have to feel this pain.” I clutched my tight chest, and my tears finally broke loose. “I can’t keep hearing the gunshots. I can’t turn around one more time and watch Luke disappear. I can’t hear my mother’s scream again…. I can’t. Losing them once was enough; I can’t keep losing them every time I close my eyes.”
Dr. Norwood shifted uncomfortably, but after a few minutes, she leaned forward and nodded once.
“Okay,” she said, sliding her chair forward. “Then there’s something else I want you to try.”
“Anything,” I said desperately.
I would’ve agreed to anything if it meant falling asleep for more than two hours at a time. I would’ve gladly taken more medication. I would’ve volunteered for sleep studies. I would’ve done
anything
…. All I wanted was to make the nightmares stop.
And there had to be a solution….
There had to be.
Wednesday, June 05
“Can you hear anything?”
“Not with your incessant yapping,” I snapped at Charlie, and we both pressed our ears closer to the front door.
It was hard to say that things had started off like any normal day. Ever since summer vacation started two days ago—
thank God for graduation!
—each day had been as surprising as the one before it. Still, even when school was in session, things were just a little ‘off.’
Over the past seven weeks, it’d become hard to identify exactly what
normal
was. But considering the way life had gone in the Little household as of late, it seemed fair to say that the day hadn’t necessarily been a bad one.
Matt started the morning by making each of us a stack of blueberry pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Charlie—for the tenth time in a month—delegated his responsibilities down at the station to other members on the force; he seemed to think it was more important to stay home and spend time with me and Matt. I guess, considering everything that had happened back in Piqua, Charlie had come to realize just how close he’d come to losing both of us. He wasn’t about to squander any of our precious family time.
I’d spent the hour after breakfast writing in my dream log; it’d been eight days since I’d last gone to therapy, and nothing—and I mean
nothing
—had gotten better. I should’ve been brave enough to consider the benefits of Dr. Norwood’s latest exercise, but when I said I’d do
anything
to make the nightmares go away… I didn’t know she’d follow-up with the most bizarre advice known to man.
I guess there were some things I just wasn’t willing to try.
So that was that.
Life was chugging along at a steady pace. Things weren’t great, but they were comfortable (as long as I stayed awake). For once, no one really had any complaints.
But the dynamic changed at exactly 11:00 a.m.—the moment Kara made her triumphant return.
And boy, believe me when I say it wasn’t a good one.
She’d marched up the front steps, banged on the door with a closed fist, and demanded Matt come outside and talk. She didn’t even bother answering when I’d asked her how she’d been. She simply ignored my question, turned her nose in the air, and told me she’d wait for my cousin outside.
I’d called up for Matt. The moment he heard the words ‘
Kara’s here to see you
,’ he flew down the steps, and then he went outside….
That was an hour ago.
And they’d been arguing ever since.
“What is she saying?”
“Will—you—just—”
“
Sorry
,” Charlie said, throwing his hands in the air. No doubt he knew I was about to tell him to shut his pie hole.
I shoved my uncle a foot to the left. Leaning closer to the door, I pressed my ear against the wood only to hear Kara’s muffled argument.
“Something about
shoe tongue
,” I whispered, listening again. “And
disparage
.”
“That can’t be right,” Charlie said, combing his fingers through his mustache. “I’m pretty sure she said
blue dung
and
carriage
.”
“
How does that make sense?
”
“I never said it did!” Charlie argued.
The screen door squeaked outside, and Charlie and I immediately dashed from the door and ran to the living room. Charlie flung himself on the couch, grabbed the newspaper, and opened it to the middle section. Had he not knocked the wind out of himself, his quick cover-up would’ve been believable. But his heavy breathing gave him away.
I, unlike Charlie, made a successful getaway; I turned a somersault across the living room floor and landed softly on my stomach. Folding my arms in front of me, I rested my head and closed my eyes. I was just tired enough that I might’ve been able to fall asleep. If nothing else, I could pretend like nobody’s business.
Matt busted through the door—not taking any time to recognize how much effort Charlie and I had put into pretending we’d been in those same spots all along—slammed it behind him, and stomped up the stairs.
“Matt,” Charlie said in his most unsuspecting voice, and he lowered the paper. “Everything alright?”
Matt didn’t answer; he just took each step a little harder than the one before it, and Charlie and I glanced at one another.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Charlie said as Matt’s bedroom door slammed upstairs.
“I’ll catch up with Kara,” I said, pushing myself off the floor and running for the door.
I darted outside just in time to watch Kara peel out of the driveway. I waved my hands to grab her attention, but she was gone without a single glance in my direction.
Charlie was already stomping back down the steps by the time I got back in the house. I didn’t even have to ask if he’d talked to Matt; his simple shrug told me that he hadn’t.
“Do you want me to try?” I asked. “Maybe he’ll talk to me.”
“Give him some time to cool off,” he said, patting my back as he passed by me at the foot of the stairs.
I looked down at my watch and then back up the stairs.
I didn’t necessarily have time to coddle Matt; you know, places to be, people to see….
I looked at my watch again.
I’d promised to meet Luke for lunch, and I didn’t want to miss it.
But what kind of cousin would I have been to walk away when Matt needed me the most? He’d put so much time and effort into making my life as easy as possible; he carried me through a lot of hard times. I knew I owed him the same.
I climbed the stairs two at a time, and when I got to the second-floor landing, I turned to Matt’s door.
Something slammed against the backside of the door after I knocked two times. I jumped back and grabbed my chest, but only because I hadn’t expected him to react to my knock by hurling something across the room.
“Matt?”
“Go away, Julie,” he grumbled, and—at his angriest—he almost sounded just like his father.
Great.
One Charlie was enough, thank you very much.
“I just wanted to make sure you were—”
“Dammit Julie, go away!”
I took a step forward and leaned my head closer to his door; as hard as I tried, I couldn’t hear a thing.
No deep breaths… no sobs… no cries… nothing.
Like always, Matt buried his pain.
He’d done it when my parents died….
He’d done it when he lost Hannah.
He’d even done it after we left Piqua.
…and now he was doing it again with Kara.
“I’ll go,” I said, only talking loud enough for him to hear me. I didn’t want to be loud and risk sounding hurt or offended, but I wanted to make sure he could hear me. “I just… I know that you wouldn’t let me sit across the hall hurting. If I needed someone, you’d be there. And… I just want you to know you can talk to me. I’m here for you, Mattie.”
Matt threw open his door, and I took a quick step backward. His blonde hair was mussed, and his lips were twisted to match his red face.
He pointed a single finger at me, started to stammer something, and then he dropped his hand.
He’d considered yelling at me, but something had stopped him.
“I’ll go,” I said, and he threw his hands up in the air.
He’d already slammed his door again by the time I turned away.
I walked slowly down the stairs and found Charlie sitting right back on the couch as he read the paper.
“That went well,” I said, rolling my eyes.
If Matt didn’t want to talk to me, fine.
It’s not like I didn’t have other things to do.
I pulled my purse off the coat rack and tucked my dream journal inside. As I headed for the front door, I half-waved to Charlie, and he set the paper aside on the coffee table.
“I’ll be home in an hour or so.”
“Julie,” he said, lowering his reading glasses. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Ha! Like he didn’t know.
I took a few deep breaths and counted.
1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10….
And then I met Charlie’s stare.
“I just….” His voice trailed off as he watched me with saddened eyes. “Where will you be?”
“At the café,” I said, dropping my shoulders. “Okay?”
His eyes softened with each heavy blink.
“Yeah,” he said, pinching the top of his nose as if he couldn’t believe he was going to let me walk out the door alone. “Tell Trigger I say hi.”
“Yeah,” I said, managing a faint smile and nodding once. “I’ll do that.”
Chapter Two
Wednesday, June 05
“That’s a third-degree misdemeanor, Julie Little,” Luke said, dropping his head above my shoulder as he snuck up behind me. “You wouldn’t want me to arrest you for littering, would you?”
I looked up from my table at the sidewalk café and stared at the pile of paper airplanes I’d thrown (and neglected to pick up). A stack of at least eight—maybe nine or ten—was piled near the edge of the sidewalk and a few had even fallen in the street. The wind had carried two of my homemade planes across the brick road and over to the gutter in front of Grace and Lonnie’s flower shop.
I twisted my lips and peered at Luke from the corner of my eye.
It went without saying, yes. But he couldn’t have been more beautiful had he tried. His brown eyes softened with a gentle smile, and I turned my head to stare at him full-on. He was freshly showered, so his hair was a little damp (and it took every ounce of restraint I had not to reach over and run my fingers through every last strand).
But then I caught a whiff of the fragrant scent lingering on his skin, and I caught a breath in my throat.
Trying to ignore the fluttering butterflies in my stomach, I shook my head and tried to remember what he’d just said.
Oh.
Right.
Littering. Misdemeanor. Arrest.
“You’d arrest me?” I asked, pouting my lip and pretending like I hadn’t been completely thrown off guard by his closeness.
“Nah,” he said, planting a small peck on my cheek. He stood taller, rounded the table, and took the seat across from mine. “But I’d write you a ticket.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said, finishing up the final fold on another plane. “Charlie says hi, by the way.”
“I’m sure he does,” he said, almost laughing.
It’d become somewhat of a joke between the two of us. As much as we knew Charlie didn’t want us anywhere near one another, we’d recently noticed—and taken advantage of—how much leniency he’d given me in the Luke-department. I usually got away with seeing him once or twice a week without much of a fight, but I knew better than to push my luck. If I tried gunning for more, Charlie might get fed up and put his foot down once and for all.
Still, I didn’t know what had gotten into to him, but I wasn’t going to complain. I liked lenient-Charlie.
Luke’s smile quickly faded, and he ran his fingers back through his dark hair. He lowered his gaze and stared at me with an intensity I’d only seen from him a few times before. It wasn’t anger, disappointment, or even frustration—believe me, I’d know better than anyone. I’d had a front row seat to almost every one of Luke’s highs and lows, and this wasn’t a look I immediately recognized. This look… well, it was more of a look of concern mixed with curiosity.
“It’s fine,” I said, answering his question before he even had time to ask it.
“Hmm?”
“You were going to ask about therapy,” I said, avoiding his stare as I flicked my wrist and let go of another plane. “You
were
going to ask, right?”
He pulled his bottom lip inward and nodded slowly.
I sensed he wanted to ask more, press harder and get more information. He’d asked several times before, but I hadn’t given him much. I didn’t necessarily enjoy the fact that I needed therapy, so I wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of sharing the intimate details of those sessions.
There was a lot I hadn’t told him, things I didn’t want him to know.
What would he think if he knew the truth?
I hadn’t told him about the medication Dr. Norwood prescribed; she said the pills—something called prazosin—was regularly prescribed to treat high-blood pressure, but she suggested that a nightly dose before bed may help alleviate my stress-induced nightmares. Honestly, though, I’m not sure the medicine had done much (if anything at all). But I kept taking it nonetheless.
We ordered our lunch when the waitress came around, and after she’d gone, I held on to a breath and watched Luke for a moment.
Though we’d never put an official title on our relationship, I considered him more than just a good friend… but I had no idea how he felt. Luke, as always, remained difficult to read in that respect.
But he’d made a point to be in my life. He’d occasionally stop by just to say ‘hello,’ and he never turned down an invitation to get together. He accompanied me to my senior prom, and he sat front and center as Matt and I accepted our diplomas last weekend.