Brian watches first Nicole and then Helen closely. Nicole’s eyes are darting around, looking at the door, Helen, him … but she doesn’t look at his son. It’s almost as if she’s afraid. He can practically feel her nervous vibes rolling off her body. She wants to run.
Helen holds out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Briana.”
Nicole puts her hand out and lets Helen take it. “Nice to meet you too. I’m … sorry …” She looks down at the carpet and pulls her hand back.
“Sorry about what?”
Nicole shrugs. “I don’t know,” she mumbles.
Helen stares at her for a few seconds. Then she looks at Brian, her mouth set in a firm line. “Bri, can you give us a few minutes alone, please?”
“Uh, no, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” says Brian.
“I am. Two minutes. Take Liam outside and help him get all his stuff out of the trunk.”
Brian’s face burns as he realizes that he overestimated Helen’s ability to roll with this program. Everything’s about to hit the fan and he’s not prepared for it. He doesn’t know what to do to stop this freight train from coming down the track, and all he can think about is how horrible it’s going to be for Nicole. He shouldn’t have done this to her, put her in this position. He wants to thrash himself for being so insensitive. But one look at his ex-wife’s face and he knows he needs to let her have her say. Whatever it is, Liam is her son and this is his home. He cannot disregard that like it doesn’t matter.
Liam slides his little hand into his father’s. “Come on, Dad. I got a new truck. It’s big.” Liam looks over shyly at Nicole, but then looks away quickly before she notices. “And we got some other stuff too that you have to carry for me.”
Brian looks back at Nicole, touching her shoulder with his free hand. “I’ll be right back. Don’t worry. Her bark is worse than her bite.”
Nicole looks up and gives him a sad smile. It makes him want to rescue her all over again, but he leaves her there instead. He’s praying the whole way out to the car that Helen doesn’t make Nicole want to run.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
NICOLE CAN’T BRING HERSELF TO look Helen in the eye. She feels like an interloper. A user. A person who shouldn’t be here. It’s shame that’s rising up to choke her. She’d like nothing more than to run away and never come back. She blames John for this mess. If it wasn’t for him, this family would be living their normal lives, not inviting a monster into their midst.
“Let’s sit,” says Helen, leaving to go take a seat in an armchair next to the couch. “Come on over. Brian’s telling the truth. I don’t bite.”
Nicole wants to take off out the front door, but her legs won’t cooperate. They move her slowly over to the spot where she sat when she first arrived in the house. The cushions collapse with her weight and she rests her broken arm in her lap. Staring at the coffee table, she waits for the words telling her she has to get out and never come back. She wonders how long it will take John to punish her for being gone so long.
“So, you’re going to stay with Brian and Liam for a while, I hear.”
Nicole looks up, too surprised with this opening line to remember to be cowed. She nods.
“That’s good. I think it’ll do you all some good.”
“You do?” Nicole’s voice sounds rusty, so she clears her throat. This is so not what she expected.
“Yes. On one condition.”
Nicole’s brief flash of hope dies out like it was never there. Here it comes.
“You have to promise me on everything you hold dear in your life, that you won’t contact the bastard who did this to you while you’re here. I cannot have him showing up and putting my son in jeopardy.”
Nicole’s nostrils flare and her lips tremble with the effort of holding her tears inside. “I won’t. I promise.” And she means it. As tempting as it is to give in to the fear that he’ll find her and punish her for being gone, for hiding, she knows as long as she lives here she has to keep these people safe. Just like they’re trying to do for her.
Helen tilts her head, staring at Nicole some more. For some reason, it doesn’t make Nicole want to look away. This is the longest she’s held someone’s stare, other than Brian’s, since … well, for as long as she can remember. Helen seems nice. Strong, but nice.
“You used to be really pretty, huh?” Helen finally says.
Again, it’s not what Nicole had been expecting, so the honest answer flies out of her mouth before she can think of anything evasive to put her off. “Yes. Very.”
“What did the doctors say? Can they put your face and ears back to the way they were?”
Nicole shakes her head. “I don’t want them to.”
Helen frowns. “No offense, but whyever not?”
“That’s my business,” says Nicole, starting to feel a little annoyed at this woman’s bluntness. It’s one thing to be concerned about her son’s welfare; it’s a whole other thing to impose her opinions on Nicole about her looks while she’s sitting here with a broken arm and ribs, the bruises still green and yellow on her face. This woman has nerve.
Helen shrugs, not at all offended apparently by Nicole shutting her down. “I guess it is your business. But if you want to have anything done to … you know … make things right, you should let me know.”
“Why? Are you a plastic surgeon?”
Helen snorts. “Ha, that’s a good one. No, I’m just a lawyer. But I know some surgeons. Good ones.”
“No thanks. I appreciate the offer, but I’m happy the way I am.”
“Why do I have a hard time believing that?”
Nicole shrugs. “Because I’m really ugly? I don’t know.”
Helen smiles big and laughs. “You’re funny. I wasn’t expecting that answer.”
Nicole grins back, unable to stop herself. “Now we’re even.”
“Sorry. I’m an up-front kind of person. I’m sure Brian warned you.”
“No, actually, he didn’t. All he told me was that you’re beautiful.”
Helen smiles indulgently. “Well, at least I’ve got that going for me. So anyway, how long are you staying?”
“Just a few days.”
Helen’s eyebrow goes up. “Oh, really? Why not longer? Is Brian kicking you out?”
“No, not at all. It’s just … I don’t want to intrude on your lives here or take advantage of him.”
Helen rolls her eyes. “If I were you I’d be more worried about telling him you’re leaving than taking advantage of anything.” Helen crosses her legs.
A niggle of fear rises up inside Nicole and burns in her stomach. “What do you mean?”
“I’m just saying, I think he likes having you here. He was very adamant about you staying. It’s not often that he puts his foot down, but he did this time. It was kind of exciting really. That’s why I came in. I had to see what had gotten into him.”
“I’m not … he’s not my keeper.” Nicole’s blood pressure is rising as she wonders if she’s someone else’s prisoner now. Out of the frying pan and into the fire? Please, God, no…
Helen leans forward, her voice softening. “Is that why you suddenly look so panicked? I didn’t mean it like that. Brian’s house isn’t a prison. He’s not your jail keeper. He’s just a really nice guy who’s decided he’s going to take care of a girl he found suffering. It’s no small thing, but it’s not that he’s a psycho or anything. Nothing like the guy who you were with before, if that’s what you’re worried about. Brian would never lay a hand on you, that I know for a fact. He’s not built like that. He’s as gentle as a lamb unless someone tries to hurt someone he loves. Then look out … all bets are off.”
“If he’s so nice, why did you divorce him?” Nicole squeezes her own fingers into knots as she waits for the truth to come out. Brian’s skeletons are about to come dancing out of the closet, and she’s both happy and sad about it. It might have been nice to live with the fantasy that he can do no wrong for a little while longer, b
ut she knows in the end it’ll be better if she knows the worst parts of him first. She’s done with fantasies and living with wishes and might-have-beens.
Helen rests her elbows on her knees and her hands on her chin. “Why are we divorced ?… Well … that’s kind of a hard question to answer. He’s a really nice guy, there’s no arguing that. And he’s great in bed, so that was no excuse to leave. It’s just …” She sighs heavily as she sits back in her chair. “I guess the best way to describe it is that he’s a homebody and I’m a traveler. I like theater, and opera, and vacations in far-flung locations. He likes going to baseball games, watching movies on video, and ordering in pizza and wings once a week. We’re just too different to be anything but great friends. I know it sounds weird, but it works. We co-parent Liam and work around each other’s schedules. He’s a great dad. I couldn’t have found a better one for my baby, that’s for sure. But the two of us are never getting back together, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’re just too different. It’s been a year since we signed the papers and I’ve never once regretted it.”
Running footsteps are once again coming up the front walk. Nicole feels rushed to find out more about Brian, the man who’s designated himself as her savior and apparently someone who can do no wrong in Helen’s eyes. She hasn’t said anything negative about him as far as Nicole’s concerned, and Nicole has never been one for the theater or opera herself.
It really has nothing to do with what Helen just said, but there’s one more unanswered question Nicole has in her mind, and Helen might be the only one who can answer it. Nicole rushes to ask it, before Liam makes it into the house. “Why is he being so nice to me?”
“Well, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” asks Helen. She finishes her thought about one second before her son bursts into the room hauling a gigantic remote-control truck. “I’m guessing it has something to do with his sister.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
BRIAN CARRIES IN HIS SON’S small suitcase and the four large bags of clothes and other items Helen purchased during her week with Liam. He never says it out loud, but he notices that she tends to try and make up for the fact that she can’t be there all the time by shopping the poor kid to death. Liam already has more toys than he knows what to do with, but Helen never lets that stop her.
Brian walks into the living room as Liam is presenting his truck to Nicole for her admiration.
“See, this thing here is called a roller bar. It’s for when it tips over so it doesn’t crush the people inside.”
“It’s a roll bar, not a roller bar,” says Brian. “That’s a pretty big truck. You sure you can handle that?” He sets the bags down in the middle of the room.
Liam rolls his eyes. “I’ve been practicing for days and days and days, Dad. You’ll see. I’ll show you guys. Come on,” he says, looking at Nicole, “you can come out on the driveway and watch me.”
Brian notices the panic on Nicole’s face and hurries to make her feel better. “Maybe later you can show me, Li-Li. But right now, Briana needs to rest and stay inside. See? She has a broken arm, so the doctor says no sun. No going outside at all.”
“No sun?” Liam screws up his face as he stares at Nicole’s arm. “That’s silly. Does the sun melt her cast or something? Cuz a kid in my class named Dalton had a cast and he went in the sun all the time and it didn’t melt even a little bit.” He looks to his dad for a response.
“What’s in the bags?” Brian asks, his main goal to distract his son from the twenty questions he senses coming. His son is like a little bulldog sometimes, the way he locks his jaws on something and won’t let it go. The only thing that’s ever worked to keep the kid on a smooth track is redirection.
The distractor technique works. Liam puts his truck on the coffee table and dances over to the closest bag. “I got lots-a stuff. But first of all, presents! Mommy says I get to be like Santa Claus today!” He reaches inside and pulls out a baseball, tossing it clumsily to his father.
Brian catches it just before it falls onto the glass top of the coffee table. “What’s this for?”
“Mom says I needed to give you a ball so that when I sneak it from you, it’s not the really important one we caught at the game.” He smiles vaguely at Brian, glancing a couple times nervously over at Nicole.
Brian nods at Helen. “Good thinking. Where should I keep it, Li-Li?”
“Put it on your dresser and put the other one up high. Mom says you need to remove it from tentation.”
“Temptation,” corrects Helen. “It tempts you, so it’s called temptation.”
“Tentation. That’s what I said.” Liam reaches into the bag again. “And this!” he says, pulling something pink out, “is for Briana!” He walks over and holds it out to her, his arm going up in a jerky movement. “Here. It’s for you. Go ahead and take it.”
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.”