Don't Make Me Beautiful (21 page)

Nicole reaches up slowly and accepts the gift, staring at it and then at Liam.
 
“What is it?”

“It’s called a boo-boo bunny.
 
You put ice in it and when you have a boo boo, you put the bunny on it.
 
That makes it feel better.”

Nicole swallows several times in a row, turning the bunny over and pulling out the pocket a little, looking at where the ice pack goes.
 
It’s like she’s moving in slow motion the way her fingers very carefully slide over the soft material.

Helen speaks up, saving Brian from having to try and fill up the awkward silence with something goofy.
 
“Liam was worried about you.
 
He wanted to get something to make you feel better.”

Nicole’s lips press together into a thin line.
 
“Thank you, Liam,” she says, getting abruptly to her feet.
 
“That was very sweet of you.”
 
The last words get caught in her throat as she rushes from the room.
 
The door to her bedroom closes softly behind her.

Liam and Helen watch her go, and Brian gets on his feet.

“Did I make her cry?” Liam asks, sounding like he’s ready to bawl himself.

Brian grabs his son in a huge hug, lifting him off his feet so he can bury his face in the boy’s little neck.
 
Kissing him several times, he responds, “Those are happy tears, baby.
 
Happy tears.”

Liam’s voice comes out muffled, his face pushed into in his dad’s shirt.
 
“They looked like sad ones to me.”

“Sometimes happy ones look like sad ones,” Brian says, kissing him once more before putting him down on the ground and nudging him towards his mom.
 
“Go give your momma a love while I go check on Nic … Briana.”

“Who’s Nicbriana?”

Brian’s halfway down the hallway when he hears Helen’s response.
 
“Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”

Chapter Thirty

NICOLE IS SITTING ON THE bed holding the gift in her hand when Brian walks in, shutting the door softly behind him.

“Hey,” he says, taking the spot next to her.
 
“What’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry.
 
I just …”
 
She struggles to maintain her cool.
 
“I was surprised, and then I saw this, and … it was just a little overwhelming.”
 
She looks at Brian, feeling terrible about her reaction.
 
“Did I upset him a lot?
 
I’m really sorry.
 
He’s such a sweet boy.” The idea of making Brian’s child sad or afraid is too awful to bear.
 
The happiness he had practically glowing out of him over giving gifts was like watching a miracle or something; the joy was palpable.
 
But then she had to go and ruin it with her inability to let go of the past.
 
When?
 
When will I be able to heal?

“Nah, don’t worry about it.
 
He’s already moved on to something else.
 
That’s the great thing about kids his age … short attention spans.”

She tries to smile at him, grateful for his attempts at making her feel better, but still not fully able to manage her emotional swings.
 
She’s getting whiplash from the ups and downs, the sharp jerking back and forth from joy to despair.

“Is there any particular reason why this thing set you off?
 
Or was it just Liam being nice that did it?”

Nicole looks down at it and forces herself to relax.
 
He doesn’t really want to know the answer to that question, so she gives him the easy way out.
 
“Just him being nice.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” he asks, reaching over and taking the bunny from her.

She stares at the thing in his hand for what feels like a long time before she answers.
 
“Maybe because I’m not ready to tell you certain things about my life, and I’m not very good at hiding that.”

He nods slowly, still staring at the toy.
 
“Yeah, that’s probably it.”
 
He looks up at her, causing her to meet his eyes.
 
“When do you think you’ll be able to do that?
 
Share with me, I mean.”

She looks deeply into his eyes, searching for something, some clue that he means to take the information she shares and hurt her with it.
 
As usual, those things aren’t there.
 
It’s like he’s asking because he really cares and wants to help.
 
The problem is, she has a hard time allowing herself to be that vulnerable.
 
Right now, the name of the game is still survival.

She rests her hand lightly on his forearm and breaks eye contact with him.
 
“I don’t know if I ever will.
 
I’m sorry if that sounds really cold.”

“Can you just tell me why?
 
Is it because you don’t trust me or you’re trying to forget or what?”

She sighs, trying to figure out the answer to that question.
 
It’s so complicated coming up with something easy that will fit into a nice description like that.
 
“I’m not sure. I guess I don’t totally trust anyone at this point, even though you’ve been nothing but trustworthy towards me.”
 
She looks at the carpet, too embarrassed to look at him. “And things happened that are shameful to me.
 
Things that make me wish I could scrub parts of my brain clean so the memory will be forever gone.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but you know, I kind of think those memories have to stay.”

She looks up quickly at him, surprised at his response.
 
“What?”

“Yeah.”
 
He scratches his head, forgetting he has the bunny in his hand.
 
Pulling it away, he frowns at it and continues speaking.
 
“It’s like … everything that happened to you, all those terrible things that I hope someday you’ll tell me about, they’re part of who you are now.
 
They make up the scars that are on your heart.
 
If you rip them off, try to make them disappear, you’ll just cause more damage in the end.
 
Scars are your body’s way of healing, making that damaged part stronger than it ever was before the pain.”

“That’s pretty poetic.”
 
She says, not sure she agrees.

“You like it?”
 
He’s smiling.

“Maybe.
 
I’m not sure I agree, but I guess it doesn’t matter.”

He takes her hand and weaves his fingers through hers, the bunny abandoned in his lap.
 
“I guess I just want you to know that I like how you are, scars included.
 
There’s nothing you can say that will change that.”

“How can you be so sure?” she says, unable to put any decent volume to the words.
 
Memories assail her mind of another pink bunny.

“Because, I know who I am.
 
That’s just me.”

“Just you.”
 
He acts like that’s such a simple thing, when in reality, it’s everything.
 
It’s the dream she never dared dream.
 
The fantasy she never dared entertain.
 
It cannot be possible that Brian really exists like this as a human being.

“Yeah.
 
That’s what I say.
 
Just me.”

“I don’t understand.”
 
The ability to express herself has abandoned her.
 
She feels like half her brain has gone on vacation, leaving just the parts that will keep her alive and conversing on a very basic level.
 
All these emotions and memories and wishes are getting tangled into a mass of confusion.
 
A headache moves in to take over her focus.

“I guess I’ll just have to keep working to help you understand.
 
In the meantime, we’ll just breathe in and out, eat, sleep, maybe kiss a little and eventually it’ll all work out.”

She smiles sadly.
 
“You don’t want to kiss me.”
 
She wants to cry with how much she wishes he really did.

“I’m willing to prove it right here and now.”
 
He turns slightly on the bed to face her.

Her hand comes up to rest on his chest as she battles tears.
 
“I don’t think I could manage that right now.
 
Just … leave me be.”

He reaches up and strokes the side of her face.
 
“For now, I can do that.
 
But later?
 
Maybe I’ll be able to convince you to take a walk on the wild side.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve had enough of the wild side to last me for a lifetime.”

“Okay, then.
 
We’ll call it taking a vacation from the wild side.”

“What about Liam?
 
And Helen?
 
Aren’t they going to think that’s really … twisted?
 
That you’d want to kiss a person who looks like me?”

“They know me and they love me.
 
They’ll trust whatever I do is the right thing for me and my son.
 
You don’t need to worry about them.”

“But Liam’s so young … how will he even be able to deal with me being here for a few days?
 
It’s going to be really upsetting for him.
 
And if he sees John out on the street, he could say something and then …”
 
She can’t finish.
 
The idea is too horrible to imagine.

“Helen talked to him.
 
She didn’t give him all the details, but he understands that someone hurt you and that we can’t talk about it outside the house.”

“He asked me to go outside,” Nicole says in a soft voice.
 
“To watch him with his truck.”

“Yeah.
 
He’s six.
 
He forgets stuff or maybe he didn’t get that part.
 
But we’ll handle it.
 
He’s used to playing inside, and I can take him to the park during the week to help him blow off steam.
 
You can just stay inside and rest and work on my books.”

“Slavedriver, huh?”
 
The grin is back, playing along her lips.
 
She so wants to stop talking about depressing things for once in her life. She’s spent years living in darkness; the light is dangerously attractive right now.
 
She wants to believe that a six-year-old boy can keep her secret and remain safe, even with John right around the corner.

“Oh, yeah.
 
Absolutely.
 
I plan on cracking the whip regularly.”

“I like doing it.
 
It keeps my mind off things.”

“Good,” he says standing, holding out his hand.
 
“Then it’s a win-win.”

“Where are we going?” she asks, taking his hand and standing slowly, mindful of the pain.

“Back out there so Liam can finish playing Santa Claus.
 
Then we’ll have dinner and relax for a while before bed.
 
Sound good?”
 
He steps closer to her once she’s upright and takes her in a very gentle hug.
 
“You’re going to be fine, you know.”

“I know,” she says against his chest, almost believing it herself.
 
“I have a boo-boo bunny now, so I’m good.”
 
Saying it isn’t as painful as she expected it to be.

“That’s right.”
 
He rubs her back up and down, slowly, taking the pain away.

Nicole wishes she could stay right here exactly like this for the rest of her life, but the sound of the doorbell ringing comes through the bedroom door.
 
Nicole stiffens as she realizes that it means there’s someone outside wanting to come in.
 
“Who is that?” she whispers, all of a sudden feeling very panicky.

Brian pulls away, his expression serious.
 
“I don’t know.
 
I’ll go see.
 
You stay here and lock the door.”

Nicole watches his broad, muscular back as he leaves the room, following to lock up behind him.
 
The panic has set in deep, in record time, bringing her from serene, happy, and hopeful to freaking out in a matter of seconds.
 
Placing her ear against the wood, she tries to pick up clues as to who is there at the front door.
 
Please, don’t let it be John!

Chapter Thirty-One

HELEN’S ON HER WAY TO the door when Brian bursts out of the hallway.

“Helen!” he says, trying not to yell too loud, but needing to stop her before she opens the door to who knows what.

She stops at the door and turns around.
 
“What?”

Brian waves his hands frantically back and forth.
 
“Don’t!” he whisper-yells.
 
“It could be him!”

“Him who?” asks Liam, looking from one parent to the other.

“Take Liam into his room,” Brian says, sweeping him up into his arms and handing him over to his mother.

Helen glares at him as she takes their child from Brian.
 
“We need to talk about this.”

Brian nods.
 
“Later.
 
Go.”

“But I want my truck!” whines Liam as they leave the room, his hand outstretched towards the radio-controlled monstrosity on the table.

Brian glances at it and then the hallway, making sure they’re around the corner before opening up the door.
 
He turns the deadbolt and takes the handle, twisting it open to reveal their surprise visitor.

“Oh, good, I got the right house.”

Brian’s heart stops beating.
 
The opening scene of his worst nightmare is playing out right here, right this moment on his front door step.
 
He finds his voice a few seconds later and his heart begins thumping again, only now at twice its normal speed.
 
“Yeah, this is me.
 
What’s up?”