He got himself in the house and saw that the note he’d written his gram was still on the kitchen table. He dropped his jeans and unfastened the leg. He unlaced the running shoe and worked the prosthesis out of his jeans and leaned it against the sofa. He pulled up his jeans and sat down on the sofa. He grabbed the leg by the titanium pylon and threw it across the room. It clattered to the floor over by his gram’s old piano. Then he put his head in his hands and felt the sting of tears in his eyes.
What the hell had he done? He had planned to tell her, calmly and sanely, they couldn’t be a couple anymore. She should get on with her life, forget about him, find herself a guy who could take her the places in life she deserved to go. He even had a little speech about how she should go on with school, get herself real smart and snag an intelligent man who was going to earn a decent living and not bring mayhem into her life at every turn. And what had he done? Practically raped the girl! The fact that she hadn’t tried to stop him didn’t undo the fact that he’d been out-of-his-mind desperate, driven and rough. If she had told him to stop, could he have?
“Ricky?”
He lifted his head from his hands to see his gram standing under the living-room arch, clutching her old chenille robe together.
“I heard a loud noise….”
Thank God she couldn’t see well enough to catch the tears in his eyes, on his cheeks, the leg across the room. “Sorry, Gram. I took off the leg and dropped it. It’s really heavy. Sorry I woke you.”
“You sound like you’re getting a cold.”
“Maybe, yeah,” he said, sniffing. “I’m fine. Go back to bed.”
“You need your walker?”
“I got it. It’s right at the end of the couch.”
“Can I get you anything, honey?”
“I’m fine, Gram. But thanks.”
I’m not fine,
he thought.
I’m a fucked-up mess. What the hell have I done to myself? To everyone else? Was I born under some kind of curse?
All in one day, he’d beat up two of the most important people in his life—Jack and Liz. All day long he’d been an asshole to Jack and now look what he’d done to Liz—had sudden forceful, rough sex with her, and then told her she had to go away and leave him alone. He felt lower than a worm. And yet he couldn’t for his life think of a better way to handle the situation. It was better for them if they didn’t care about him so much.
There were going to be more people to deal with. People he didn’t want pulling for him, being kind to him, befriending him when it could only come back on them in a bad way. Everything Ricky touched, as far as he was concerned, blew up. Just like that goddamn grenade in Iraq. There was also Preach. Mel. The boys from Jack’s squad. Connie and Ron. The whole frickin’ town.
Then he realized with a shock—he was ashamed of having been blown up. Now, that made absolutely no sense, but there it was. He should have come back from Iraq with some head troubles, but not this kind. He’d listened to guys in that stupid support group talk about shame at having been wounded, shame at having to put their families through dealing with a disabled vet, and he thought it was beyond ridiculous.
But here he sat, on his grandmother’s floral couch, knowing that everything in his head would be different if he had returned to Virgin River with two legs. And he didn’t know what to do with that knowledge. There was no changing things.
He didn’t sleep well, but when he got up, real early, the first thing he did was use his walker to get to his gram’s front porch and look across the street at Connie’s house, right next to the corner store. And there was Liz’s car. It had a dewy coat over it—it had been there a long time. Where had she gone after dropping him off? Obviously she hadn’t gone home to her mother’s in Eureka. His head began to pound. Had she gone out to the woods or river to cry?
Rick felt like a monster.
He hid out the whole day. He could have walked down to Jack’s and been friendly, but after ditching the welcome-home party, he thought he’d just play the wounded Marine for a while longer, let everyone think he wasn’t up to public appearances. So Jack came to him.
“Just checking to see how you’re doing today,” he said. “And brought you and your grandma something of Preacher’s for dinner.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking the bag. “Is Preacher pissed?”
“Preacher hardly ever gets pissed,” Jack said. “But just for future reference, you don’t want to be around when he is. So—today’s better?”
“Yeah. I’m getting by. Trying to get a little rest.”
“Good. I want you down at the bar at 9:00 a.m. Monday morning. We have PT in Eureka,” Jack said.
“We?”
“I’m taking you. PT Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The counselor Tuesday and Thursday. Also morning.”
“You don’t have to do that….”
Jack lifted an eyebrow. “You going to call a cab? Or maybe you have another ride in mind so you don’t have to talk to me?”
Rick just looked down, frustrated with himself for wanting to hurt people so much. “Okay, thanks,” he said quietly. “I’m not real hot on that counselor idea. I told you that.”
“I know. I heard that. Just so you know, Mel
is
hot on it—and she found the counselor. Go ahead, tough guy—call her and talk her out of it.”
“What if I don’t call her and just refuse to go?”
“I’m taking you—I happen to think it might help. I guess you could be a stubborn fool and refuse to talk.” He shrugged. “If you decide to go that way, just listen. Maybe you’ll pick up something. By the way, what happened with you and Liz?”
His eyes popped open. “What makes you think something happened?”
“She said she saw you last night, and she doesn’t seem to be doing real well. I asked her. She said she can’t talk about it.”
Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tell Jack he’d treated her the way he had. He just couldn’t handle the look he’d see in Jack’s eyes. If he’d learned anything, Jack’s opinion of how men should treat women was firm—they were to be handled with the greatest of respect and care. He could tell Jack he’d practically raped her, then told her to go away and leave him alone, and although Jack wouldn’t give up on him, he’d be completely ashamed of him. Rick decided it wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t bear the added guilt. “I can’t talk about it either,” he said.
Jack was silent for a moment. “Good thing we have that appointment with the counselor. You can tell him.”
Don’t count on it, Rick thought.
He found himself in a small waiting room that was, thankfully, empty. There was a door to another room and presently a tall, spindly man with a sharp nose and thin hair that flopped onto his forehead appeared there. He smiled. “You must be Rick.”
“And you must be the counselor.”
Jerry laughed. “Come on back.”
Rick slowly followed while Jerry waited at the door. He indicated a couple of chairs facing each other and then he closed the door. “I’m not expecting clients right now, but I close the door in case anyone wanders into the waiting room. This room is soundproofed for our privacy.”
Rick sat. Between the chairs, a small table bore a box of tissues. That was for when he broke down and cried like a girl.
Before sitting, Jerry offered his hand. “Jerry Powell, Rick. It’s nice to meet you. And even though you might be tired of hearing it, thank you for the service you perform on behalf of our country. Not only do I appreciate it, I’m deeply touched and personally indebted to you.”
Rick was surprised. He tilted his head. Actually, he hadn’t heard that. Maybe if he’d gone to his own welcome-home party at the bar, he might have. But instead of saying thank-you, he said, “Just so you know, I don’t want to be here.”
Jerry actually smiled. “Which puts you in the majority. I do some work for the county and from time to time a junior-high or high-school student, in trouble at school, comes my way as part of penance. A way of not getting expelled. If you think they want to be here…”
“What happened to me wasn’t high-school stuff.”
Jerry sobered. “I’m aware of that.” He let that go a beat. “Well, I should explain—I’ve never counseled a disabled veteran before. I’ve had vets, I’ve had amputees, I’ve counseled lots of people with disabilities, but I’ve never counseled a person trying to adjust to civilian life after a war injury.”
“Maybe you don’t know what you’re doing?”
“Or maybe we’ll learn from each other,” he said easily, not in the least intimidated by Rick’s hostile nature. “I’ll try to keep up. Anywhere in particular you’d like to start?”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me—I’d rather not do this at all.”
“Okay, I’ll start. I’ve been in Grace Valley about ten years now. There’s a rumor going around that I claim to have gone on a ride in a spaceship with aliens.” He shrugged. “It’s the absolute truth—I really did. I swear. I don’t even care that hardly anyone buys it—it happened to me. Screwed me up pretty good for a while. I’ll make a deal—you tell me some of the stuff that’s giving you trouble. I’ll tell you about the spaceship.”
Rick’s mouth hung open. He stared at him in total astonishment. When he did finally shut his mouth, he opened it again to say, “You’re fucking
kidding
me!”
Jerry smiled. “God’s truth.”
“You’re a nutcase? And you think you’re going to help
me?
”
“I’m a survivor of a traumatic experience. It took a lot of counseling and I was already a counselor. As for us, you and me, there’s client privilege, which means I never talk about your issues. In fact, I don’t tell anyone who my clients are. What you say about our sessions is up to you—but I won’t mention I’ve met you under these circumstances. I don’t even take notes, in case they’re ever subpoenaed, but you don’t have to think about that—your session with me isn’t court ordered. So. Maybe you’d like to jump in, take a chance. Hear about the spaceship for dessert?”
Rick shook his head. Unbelievable. It was surreal. The guy who was going to help put his head back together thought he’d been abducted by aliens? “Holy Jesus,” he muttered. Jerry just lifted his pale brown eyebrows, waiting.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Rick said. “Bad stuff happens to me and the people who care about me. Started when I was two and my parents died in a car wreck. I bet if we could check back further, my mother probably almost died in childbirth….”
“That a fact? Like you’re bad luck or something?”
“Not
like
I am. You get mixed up with me, care about me, you’re in for it.”
“And you believe that?”
“I can’t help but believe it. There’s a long history of it.” And Rick explained the details, his voice cold and flat.
A half hour later, Jerry asked, “Tell me about your girl.”
“She’s not my girl anymore. I broke up with her, for her own good.”
“But you still know about her. Tell me some things so I know who you broke up with and how you’re feeling about it.”
He took a breath. Now, this was where the tissues might actually come in handy, if he broke down. “She’s amazing,” he said softly. “We had some of that accidental teenage sex when I was sixteen and she was fourteen. Happened so fast, we didn’t even see it coming. One time. I got her knocked up. She was scared to death, and she was just a kid. But she wanted to have the baby, and she wanted me. Her mother and aunt Connie wanted her to give the baby away, but in the end it was me who couldn’t live with that.”
“How’d you feel about the pregnancy?”
“Are you kidding? I wanted to disappear. Run for my life.”
“Did you?”
“I couldn’t do that to her. I stuck with her. I knew even way back then I loved that girl. It was totally nuts to love someone at that age, but I did. And we were going to find a way to keep that baby. My grandma and Jack, they were on board to help if they could. I was willing to do anything. Anything. Work ten jobs, whatever I had to do. I should have known I was no good for her when she got knocked up after one time. But then, just to drive the point home, her baby was born dead.”
Jerry cleared his throat. “I don’t think I missed anything there, Rick. It was also your baby. Correct?”
“I did it to her, though. I put it there, she loved him and took good care of him, and he was born dead.” His voice cracked on the last word.
“Very tough for the two of you,” Jerry said. “Very, very painful. You must have had a great deal of grief.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice filled with both anguish and self-loathing. “And my way of dealing with it was to abandon her. I told her I had to get my head together. I enlisted in the Corps.” He lifted his head, shook off the threat of tears. “She was scared to death of me doing that, plus I was going to be gone a long time, and she
needed
me. There was a war going on—I knew I’d end up going. And this girl, still just a girl in high school, she said if that’s what I needed to do, she’d stick it out. She’d wait. She’d be faithful, write me every day, and wait. How many fifteen-year-old girls do you know who could get through that? Get knocked up, bury their baby, send their boyfriend off to the Marines, then to war, and
wait?
I told her I wouldn’t hold her to that, but it was her decision.”
Jerry was silent. And so was Rick, for a little while.
“She missed every high-school thing that came along. While I’m off turning myself into a big man, she’s sitting home alone. She’s so beautiful, you just can’t imagine. And sweet. But she’s not a little girl anymore—she’s gotten so strong.” He let go a laugh. “Because of me. Because I put her through so much, probably. She’d stay home from things like prom and homecoming because she didn’t want any guys who would ask her out to think she was available. She’d stay home and write me letters instead. When I got blown up, she came to Germany, where I was in the hospital. She’d never been on a plane before in her life, and she flew halfway around the frickin’ world to see me, make sure I was alive. And I treated her like crap. Told her she shouldn’t have come.”
Quiet reigned a moment. “Sounds like a wonderful girl,” Jerry finally said. “Devoted. You must have been in a bad place, emotionally, while you were in the hospital. Would that be correct?”
“She just didn’t deserve all that. You know?”
“She made her own choices, Rick. As did you.”
“Yeah,” he said, laughing without humor. “The choices I made were all selfish. The ones she made were all unselfish. All for me.”
“I bet if you asked her, she’d say her choices served her needs. She must have wanted to be a part of your life.”
He shook his head. “No matter how bad it is for her?”
“You so sure it’s bad for her? Sometimes being someone’s partner is fulfilling.”
“I doubt it, Jerry. Not anymore.”
“Hmm?”
“I told her in Germany, she should get on with her life—that I was going to be busy trying to get through rehab. She called, sent me stuff, but I shut her out, hoping she’d just wander off and get a life. Find a guy who could give her stuff, like maybe a future that didn’t hurt all the time. But damn, that girl’s stubborn. She never quit. I wouldn’t take her calls, wouldn’t return her messages, but she just kept at it. When I got back to Virgin River the other night, she came over to my gram’s and asked me to go for a ride with her, to talk. I went, and I tried to talk to her, but once we were parked at the river, I just grabbed her. Like a maniac. I couldn’t stop myself. I tore off her clothes and just did her—just like that. No lovey-dovey stuff. After her jeans were off, I pulled her onto my lap and just plugged her. I practically raped the girl who’s stuck by me through everything. And then I told her I couldn’t be part of a couple anymore, that she had to let me go.”
Now Jerry’s silence lengthened, but Rick didn’t fill it for quite a while.
“How impressed are you with me now?” Rick finally asked.
Jerry cleared his throat. “I’d like to ask a couple of questions, if it’s all right with you.”
“Knock yourself out. I’m all out of secrets now.”
He cleared his throat again. “Did you hit her?”
Rick was startled. “Of course not! I wouldn’t hit Liz!”
“Did you hold her down?”
“I told you—I pulled her on top of me. I can’t do anything with this leg.”
“Did she struggle? Try to pull away?”
“No. She let me.”
“Did she ask you not to?”
He shook his head. “She’d do anything for me. But that’s no excuse for what I did to her.”
“Did she say anything like, no? Or, please don’t? Or, stop?”
“I told you, she
let
me! That makes it
worse!
”
“Afterward, did she say you hurt her?”
“No,” he said weakly. “She said I’d seemed to be in a hurry. And it was okay that it wasn’t good for her.”
“Did she cry or complain that she’d tried to get through to you or—”
“I
told
you. She went along with it. I was rough and only thinking about myself. I was getting
off!
I was out of my mind. Liz is not made for that! She’s a good, sweet, giving person! I don’t want her giving in to someone like that. Like
me.
”
Jerry smiled patiently and watched as Rick wiped angrily at his eyes, refusing to let himself cry.
“I think,” Jerry said, “that sex will be better for both of you if you’re conscious of each other’s needs and desires. People in the throes of passion sometimes get a little selfish. Take advantage. And in the end, if they’re two people who care about each other, it’s not entirely satisfying. It sounds like maybe it wasn’t all that satisfying to you.”
Rick narrowed his eyes meanly. “I got off. She didn’t.”
“And it also happens, with couples, that people give rather than take sometimes. If one partner is particularly needy and the other doesn’t feel at risk—”
“You are the biggest dork,” Rick snapped.
Jerry laughed. “You’re going to have to do better than that. I’ve been called way worse than dork. And I concede to dork.”
“Didn’t you hear what I just told you about the other night?”
“You didn’t rape her, Rick. You didn’t even almost rape her. I’ve only known you for fifty minutes and yet I believe, if she’d tried to pull away or told you to stop, you would have.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“You’re not sure because you weren’t tested—it didn’t come to that. What’s interesting about this is that my bigger challenge is usually explaining what rape is to a young man who thinks he didn’t when, in fact, he did. Not listening to no. Holding a girl down. If what you’re telling me is accurate, that wasn’t the case.”
“What I’m telling you is
horrible,
” he ground out.
“I think if you caused her pain, it probably came afterward, when you told her you didn’t want her anymore. I’d like you to think more about that decision so you can outline your motivation on that for me, and we’ll talk about it on Thursday. I’d also like you to try to make a list of the good things that have happened in your life. Don’t strain yourself—give me five. Maybe you should think of them as ‘lucky’ things. But our time is up for today.”
“Wait a goddamn minute!” Rick snapped. “You have to tell me about the fucking spaceship!”
“Will your ride be waiting?” Jerry asked.
“He’ll wait!”
“Well, okay then. I was camping with a couple of friends. We were in Arizona, way out in the middle of nowhere. We’d been in Sedona, but we moved out into the desert. When my friends woke up in the morning, I was gone. I woke up—I don’t know when—inside this spaceship. I had no memory of being snatched. It was like silver glass on the inside and the people—the aliens—had on suits that covered them from head to toe, breathing like Darth Vader, and I was stripped bare and lying out on a silver table. They were studying me and poking at me and talking in what sounded like high-pitched squeaks. Like dolphins.