Page 14 of Avenged

I couldn’t process everything. My brain was slowly withdrawing from all thought, and I couldn’t afford that. I had too many things happening in my life that required me to be there. To be present.

The doctor patted my hand. “I’m going to send the nurse in to remove the IV. Then, you can get dressed, and we’ll get you checked out. I’ll come back with a referral to a specialist I recommend you see.”

She left me with my thoughts and the spiral of words she’d used that I wanted her to take back. I wanted to go on the internet and research every word she’d used. I wanted to escape into a world of comic books and superheroes so I didn’t have to worry about any of it. Where I could pretend nothing in real life mattered. But the days of escaping into made-up worlds were long over—had been over for years.

Violet came back into the room as the doctor was leaving.

“Damn. I wanted to be here. What did she say?”

“Don’t cuss,” I said, automatically repeating the words Mandy and Leena had started saying on almost a daily basis to Violet. She hadn’t started cussing until Dawson and Travis had entered our world. They cussed so much it was as if they thought the words were supposed to be used like pronouns. I loved that Mandy and Leena told Dawson and Travis off about the cussing as much as they did Violet.

“Really? This is the time to lecture me on my choice of words?” Violet said, and I couldn’t help smiling at her. “Tell me what she said.”

“She thinks I have endometriosis and wants me to see a specialist,” I told her. Which was the truth. I hadn’t lied, but I also wasn’t going to tell her the whole shebang.

“That’s what kept coming up when I was searching earlier,” Violet said, nodding, because only my sister would start to tear apart every symptom and sign and research it, not on the normal websites the average person searched, but probably on the governmental research sites as well. Violet was a scientist at heart.

The nurse came in, detached me from their machines, and Violet helped me back into my leggings and T-shirt. “How was Travis?” I asked as we worked together to get me ready to leave.

“Pacing, clicking his fingernails together in that way that is ridiculously annoying and also endearing,” she said.

She was right that his nail flicking gave him away every time he was deep in thought. A habit I wasn’t even sure he realized he had. I had a whole host of tells and bad habits my counselor had once tried to cure me of, but they still dragged after me.

The doctor came back with a prescription and a note with a doctor’s name scribbled on it.

“She’s out in Derby, and I know it would be a drive, but she’s the best I know in the area.”

I thanked her, and we left. When we got to the waiting room, Travis was staring out at the sky as it slowly turned from gray to a burst of orange. He had his hands crossed over his chest, stance wide. He was such an embodiment of strength that it always hit me in the chest. It wasn’t just the military training. There was something about him that spoke of a resiliency he’d needed to have his whole life. I was sure it was that piece of him which called to me the most, an echo of the demands my own life had placed on me.

As if he sensed us, he turned, taking me in from the top of my head to the bottom of my flip-flops Violet had thought to grab for me. For the first time since he’d shown up in my bedroom, I wondered what I looked like. Now that the pain had faded to a dull roar instead of a banshee scream, I had space in my thoughts for embarrassment. At what a disaster I must be and the fact that he’d seen me like this. At a low I never liked anyone seeing me.

He came toward us and grabbed the bag out of my hand before I could protest.

“What did they say?” he asked with such concern laced in his voice it about bowled me over. I was unused to it from anyone of the male persuasion.

“She wants me to see a specialist,” I answered.

He nodded, and we made our way slowly out of the hospital just as the sky was turning a vivid magenta. The puffy clouds were an array of colors that made me ache to draw them. Gray and orange and peach blending together into such a beautiful vision that I couldn’t help the words that slipped from my lips.

“Thank you, God, for this beautiful day.” Violet squeezed my hand. They were words our mom had used every day for those last few weeks of her life.

I felt Travis glance down at me, and when I looked up, his eyes had squeezed together, corners wrinkling as if he was deep in thought. He didn’t say anything, though. He just unlocked the door of his pickup and waited for me to climb in before handing me my bag.

The trip back to the house was silent. We all seemed to have gone somewhere in our heads that we weren’t ready to share. When we pulled up at Leena and Mandy’s, I jumped out with my bag before Travis could protest. Violet scurried to the door, unlocking it and calling out behind her, “Truck, come in and have breakfast.”

I turned at the door. “You don’t have to come in. You’ve already done enough.”

He was eyeing me again, as if there was something he was trying to put together. “That wasn’t all the doctor said, was it?”

I could hear Violet banging away in the kitchen already. She was probably making her skillet breakfast pie. It was the thing she liked most to make for breakfast. I wasn’t prepared to tell him, or Violet, or anyone else what was going on. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it to the specialist, not only because of the money, but because it might as well have been in California with my Civic on its last leg and the tires nearly bald.

“It was the gist of it,” I said, putting my bag down and starting toward the stairs.

Travis stopped me, his huge hand resting on my elbow. His touch sent warm waves through me, like stepping into a steamy shower, relaxing and yet stimulating all at once.

“Look. I get you not wanting to say anything in front of Violet. I would want to process things on my own if it was Dawson and me going through the same thing. But I’m not Violet. Tell me what she really said.”

I pulled away from him. I couldn’t allow myself to ease into his comfort. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? She’s sure it’s not cancer, and that’s all that matters. I can’t afford to do anything else with it right now. It’ll all wait.”

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