Seven Days (29 page)

“They knew?!” I screeched, rubbing at my temples trying to fight against the medicine trying to take me under again.

“You’re tired, honey,” Britton observed. “And Sasha will be in any minute to take your vitals. Try to get some rest,” she deflected.

“Fine,” I mumbled, churlishly as I let the medication carry me away, hoping that Ryan would be there when I woke up.

**

“I heard you had a big day, sweetheart,” Ryan soothed, moving my hair from my face as I drifted back into consciousness sometime later. His amber eyes were filled with concern. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You two are prefect for each other,” Britton snorted from somewhere in the room. “Always apologizing for shit you have absolutely no control over. Might as well say you’re sorry the sky is blue,” I swear I could hear the eye roll.

“She told my boss about her scholarship but not me,” I complained. “She didn’t think I could handle it.”

“That’s not what happened. I knew you needed to get out of here, but you weren’t going to go without me,” she said, and I could tell she was pacing the small distance of my room, even though my eyes were still focused on Ryan.

“Of course I wasn’t. You’re my baby sister,” I argued, trying to look around Ryan, but found my gaze blocked. “What are you doing?” I asked him as he moved with me.

“I’m not going to let you get worked up again. The doctors said if you could stay stable another twelve hours, we get to take you home. You are getting soft food for dinner tonight and if you tolerate that, you’ll be back on real food in the morning,” he shared. “So look at me and take a deep breath. I want you all to myself, without having to worry about nurses, doctors and phlebotomists at all hours.”

I did as he asked and felt myself calm down. I was still so proud that Britton had gotten such an amazing opportunity for school. She was guaranteed a free education as long as she kept her nose to the grindstone and her grades up. Yet, I felt betrayed that she didn’t feel like she could share with me something so monumental.

“You know if you told me about this, I wouldn’t let you give it up for me,” I told her.

“I know you wouldn’t have, but I also know you would’ve been stuck in the same cycle you’ve been in for the last eight years. I couldn’t watch it anymore,” she huffed, finally settling into the seat on the other side of my bed. “After everything, I needed to show you that I could make sacrifices, too.”

“By giving up your education?” I grunted in disbelief. “You know I wouldn’t have wanted that for you,” I shook my head.

“I know,” she agreed.

“So tomorrow, huh?” I smiled, trying to build her excitement for her new journey.

“Yeah,” a grin took over her face, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I think I’ll have a roommate, so I’m nervous about that. What if I’m hard to live with? What if she is?”

“I’m sure she’ll love you,” I told her. “And if you share your popcorn with her, I can guarantee it.”

“Okay, but what about you? Where are you going to go?” she asked, her eyes drifting to Ryan beside me.

“Well, I’m not going back ‘home’ that’s for sure,” I professed.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “Ryan and I have already cleaned out our clothes and anything we may have wanted to keep. As soon as the police clear the scene, that monstrosity is going to the trailer grave yard. It’s time to put our past to rest,” she stated, emphatically, letting me know she viewed the house as a symbol for all the bad in our short lives.

“I agree,” I smiled, glad I didn’t have to revisit the scene of all of my worst memories.

“Can I talk to your sister for a minute?” Ryan asked, giving Britton a meaningful look across my bed and they seemed to share a silent conversation until she finally sighed.

“Fine,” she exhaled, standing again and walking toward the door. “Don’t let him bully you,” she joked before disappearing from the room.

“What’s up?” I asked, confused as to why we couldn’t have this conversation with Britton present.

“You have two options,” he laid out.

“And they are…?”

“I found you an apartment. It’s one bedroom, one bath, close to your work, and even closer to my house. Rent is reasonable, less than what you and Britton were budgeting for when you got wherever you were going,” he explained.

“That sounds amazing,” I smiled, excited at the prospect of starting over and having my own place.

“Or,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

“Or,” I echoed, taking in the unabashed hope gleaming in his eyes as he looked at me.

“Look, I know we haven’t really known each other that long, but I don’t want to be away from you,” he started. “I have a three bedroom house and would love for you to move in,” he invited, holding up a hand to stop my protest. “I know what you are going to say and I don’t care. We can draw up a lease agreement, and you can pay me rent,” he paused, noting my wince at the rent comment.

“You don’t know what I’ve done, Ryan. Once I tell you—”

“Nothing will change,” he interrupted. “Look, I know you are beating yourself up over what happened with Ben and Dallas. I know you blame yourself and you want to tell me every single detail because you are sure it’s going to push me out the door,” he stopped to take a breath. “But I’ve been thinking long and hard about this, and I don’t want to know. Of course, I have a general idea about what happened, but I also know it’s in the past now, and that you did it because you weren’t given any other option. You did what you had to do in order to survive and to keep a roof over your sister’s head. It wasn’t even
about
you or your livelihood. That didn’t even enter into your thought process, did it?” he asked.

“No,” I conceded.

“Then, stop beating yourself up about it,” he lectured. “When you came in, they ran every single test under the sun. They all came back clean. You are healthy, aside from that pesky little bullet wound and your missing spleen, Carrie,” he grabbed my face so that I could see the fierceness in his eyes. “Let that be enough and let it go. I know that you’ll need some help for the dreams. Those aren’t just going to go away, but we’ll face that together, okay? I’m not going anywhere, remember, I’m your fake husband,” he smiled before touching his lips to mine all too briefly. I whimpered when they moved away again. “I can’t kiss you more than that or I won’t be able to stop,” he asserted, sitting back in his chair again and grabbing my hands.

“You want me to move in,” I uttered, excitement bubbling inside me over my new options.

“More than anything.”

“And you wouldn’t mind if I insisted on taking one of the other bedrooms? Like a real tenant?” I quirked an eyebrow.

“Of course I would,” he laughed. “I want to wake up beside you every morning. Why do you think I’ve turned your hospital room into my temporary abode? I love you, Carrie,” he avowed.

“I love you, too, Ryan,” I smiled so wide my face hurt. I wasn’t used to having this kind of luck.

“So you’ll move in with me?” he asked, a boyish grin on his face as he waited for my answer.

“Of course I will, but if you ever decide it’s not working anymore—” he cut me off with his lips and I reveled in his taste again. His kisses made my head swim more than the dilaudid in my IV, and I knew that I’d be okay to come off the pain meds if he was there.

“It’ll work, I promise. And then, next year, we’ll go back to Laughlin and we’ll act out that wedding we discussed, but legally,” he promised and I couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. It wasn’t the future I’d ever thought I’d deserve, but it was damn sure one that I wanted. I was going to grab onto it with both hands and hold on tight.

Six months later…

“Okay, now I want you take a deep breath in, good, now release it slowly,” Dr. Warner’s voice instructed, calmly. “Listen to the sound of my voice and count backward from one hundred.”

“One hundred… ninety-nine…ninety-eight…ninety-seven…” I counted, feeling my entire body relax into the black leather sofa underneath me.

“We’ve been working on the memory of Ben and restructuring your nightmare,” her words drifted across the ether as the side of our old trailer came into focus.

“Look, baby, it’s not that hard,” Ben said, leaning into me in a way that I experienced nocturnally for years. I explained our interaction to Dr. Warner, the interaction sounding rote and monotone.

“Redirect the dream to a better memory. Try to think of a time when you were happy at that age,” she coached. “Can you think of anything?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, dreamily. “He went out of town for a week and I was able to—”

“One that isn’t tied to Ben in anyway,” she corrected, sending me shuffling through my memories from the week after my fifteenth birthday.

“Britton was eleven, she wanted to make me breakfast in bed,” I started, seeing the content of the dream shift before my eyes.

“
Wake up, sleepy head!” My sister said, bouncing on my bed. I was glad that my window faced the back wall so I didn’t have to deal with the evilness of the morning sun waking me too early on Saturday. I had to leave later that afternoon to babysit for Kansas’ baby sisters while her mom took her to shop for the homecoming dance.

“
What time is it?” I croaked, daring to peek at her with one eye. I’d stayed up too late the night before reading a book for English.

“
I made you breakfast,” she declared, cheerfully. “Happy birthday!”

“
My birthday was last week,” I reminded her, rolling over to see the plate she’d balanced on my math textbook.

“
I know, but we had to wait until dad’s check came through so I could get the good bacon,” she shrugged, pulling my desk chair over to the bed and setting her own plate on another textbook she found in my room. “He even got us some orange juice.”

“
That was really nice of him. I didn’t even think he remembered my birthday,” I smiled, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

“
He did!” my overenthusiastic sister told me, making me sit up in bed and put my plate in my lap. She’d made scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. The eggs were a little rubbery and the bacon was slightly burnt, but it was the best breakfast I’d ever eaten. “He even helped me cook before he left this morning.”

“
I don’t even know what to say,” I looked at her, astonished, taking in the twin glasses of orange juice on the dresser as I ate. “Thank you, Britton. This is the best birthday breakfast I could’ve asked for.”

“
You’re welcome,” she nodded, digging in to her own plate. “You and me, Carrie, forever,” she said, echoing the words I told her after our mom died and dad started to retreat inside himself.

“
You and me, Britton, forever.”

“Okay, Carrie,” Dr. Warner said, coaxing me out of my dream. A feeling of peace settled around me as I opened my eyes to the red and gold Chinese lantern she had hanging over the sofa in her office.

“I completely forgot about that,” I gasped as the rest of the memory washed through me.

“It’s easy to focus on the pain when the good times are so few and far between,” she explained. “There has to be moments of happiness, though, because that’s usually what gives us hope in the most dismal of situations. If it’s all bad, then we can never see a true way out. You did, Carrie, so you’ve got good memories that can replace all the bad.”

“Thank you,” I smiled, standing from the sofa and shaking her hand, knowing we’d reached the end of our session for the day. “Same time next week?”

“I will see you then,” she nodded, walking me toward her waiting room and my waiting boyfriend.

The week after I was discharged from the hospital, I put in notice at the diner and looked for something that would allow me to have a less hectic schedule. Since Britton and Ryan had job and class commitments, I decided to cut back on work and give college a try, too. I was trying to repair my GPA by taking classes at a nearby community college. After completing my general education requirements, I planned to transfer to Arizona State, too, to finish my degree in Social Work.

I found a job as an office assistant at a doctor’s office. It paid more hourly than the diner and I didn’t have to be on my feet as much. Since Ryan’s salary covered the bills, he tried to convince me not to work at all for a while. He said it was my reward for working myself into the ground for the last seven years. I couldn’t do it, though. I needed to contribute to our household monetarily in some way so I wouldn’t feel like I was taking part in the same patterns I had with Dallas and Ben. Subconsciously, I knew the correlation was bull shit, but paying a few of our bills made me feel better.

Ryan stood as soon as we came into his field of vision and rushed to my side. He’d insisted that my appointments be during times that either he or Britton could be there for me afterwards. Part of me had known that treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder would be difficult, but I hadn’t realized how emotionally draining it would be. I was grateful he wanted to take care of me. I wanted to be strong and wave them away, but I was learning that it was okay to ask for help sometimes. It was okay that I couldn’t do everything myself, as much as I wanted to.