Page 50 of Mended Hearts

“That’s boring,” I mumble, pulling into our driveway. My phone rings, and dread sinks in as I see Lynsie’s name on the screen. “Can you take the food in?” I see the reluctance in his eyes as he hesitates to reply. “I have to take this call. It won’t take long.” I put my hand on his, reassuring him.

“Fine,” he grumbles, reaching in the back seat for the bags.

“Hey, Lynsie.” I answer as soon as his door slams, evidence of his annoyance.

“Hey, girl. How’s it going?” Her easygoing tone calms my shot nerves. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. How’s Brian?” She’s asking about me and Brian. She’s not calling to deliver another blow that I’m unsure I’d be able to withstand.

“It’s fine,” I lie. After getting out of my car, I walk to the porch and take a seat on the bottom step.

“Uh, girl, who do you think you’re talking to?” Lynsie calls me out, almost bringing me to tears. I wish she were here sitting in front of me so I could just let everything out instead of feeling like I have to hold it all together for everyone.

“It’s been rough,” I admit, keeping my voice low.

“Rough, how?” Lynsie asks, her voice now full of concern.

I sigh, unsure how to fully explain it. “Like I never know what to say…what’s going to set him off.”

“Is he being violent?”

“God, no. I don’t see him ever getting abusive.” I look back, making sure the door is still shut.

“Abuse isn’t just physical,” Lynsie replies. “It starts with words.”

“I know.” I pause. “It’s just like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. There’s so much going on with him and I just want to help.” I swallow, pushing down all the emotion threatening to expose itself. “But I don’t know if I can.” Admitting it aloud hurts worse than keeping the knowledge hidden.

“Just promise me you’ll get out before it gets bad. You can show up here in the middle of the night for all I care.”

I nod as if she can see me. “I promise,” I whisper, meaning it. I hear the door open and don’t have to look back to see who’s there. I stand and regain my normal spunky voice to end the call. “Well, hey, girl, I need to get off here. Thanks for calling. It was good to hear your voice.”

“You are welcome here all hours of the day or night.” She emphasizes and finishes with, “I love you.”

“You too, Lynsie.” I hang up and turn around to see Brian in the doorway, eyeing me with intense curiosity.

“Hey, babe,” I say, pausing to kiss his cheek. He turns to the side, allowing me entrance, and I make my way toward the kitchen. The door shuts, and I hear him follow behind me as his cane taps the ground with each step. While his arm is finallyhealed and out of the cast, the nerve damage to his leg hasn’t let up yet and it’s possible it never will.

“What was that about?” he questions.

“What was what about?” I ask nonchalantly as I begin getting dinner out of the bags.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” He smacks the counter with a tight fist. “What did your friend want?” he bites each word out. I finish placing everything out, taking my time to reply. Me doing so seems to noticeably irritate him, but when I reply off the cuff, matching his temperament, it never helps the situation. So I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

“Well, honey.” I pivot away from him to open the cabinet door. I go to pull the plates out and his hand tightly wraps around my wrist in a vise grip. The hairs on the back of my neck stand. It’s as if I no longer have control of my own hand. The glass falls from my hold, hitting the edge of the counter before falling to the floor, breaking at my feet. My head swings to Brian, who seems to be unbothered by the destruction. Why would he be? It’s all he’s known.

“Mom?” Dylan hollers from down the hall.

I hold Brian’s stare as I reply. The last thing I need is my son being brought into this.

“It’s okay. I just dropped something,” I calmly reply even though every fiber within me is on high alert. The holding of my wrist continues like he’s holding it hostage for information. “Let go of me now.” I seethe. “Or nerve damage won’t be your only disability.” I glance over at the block of knives. He winces and releases my wrist. I know it’s not the threat that struck a chord. It’s me calling him disabled. A word no soldier ever wants to hear. He drops his head and retreats toward the living room, which has basically become his room since he’s been back. I press my hands against the edge of the counter and close my eyes, taking deep breaths to steady my erratic heart. I wipe thefew tears away that manage to seep through my exterior and bend down to pick up the broken pieces. It’s not like Brian is going to help. He hasn’t done anything besides be a hermit since he’s gotten back. Oh, and a dick.

Once the mess is cleaned up, I fix a plate for Dylan and carry it back to his room. He lifts a brow, eyeing me suspiciously as I hand it to him. “I know. I’m breaking my own rule.” I smile and lean against his doorway, crossing my arms. “I think there can be an exception to the rules sometimes.”

“I like this exception,” he admits, sitting down on his bed as he takes a big bite of his fried chicken leg. I watch my son, all carefree and full of life as he plays his Xbox. Oh, to be a kid again. “Ma,” he says, shaking me out of my trance.

“Yeah, hon?”

“Is everything okay?” His eyes fill with worry, worry he should never have to feel. I’ve never been one to sugarcoat the truth with him, and I’m not going to start now.

I walk over and sit on the edge of his bed, resting my hand on his knee as he sits criss-cross applesauce. “Honestly.” I sigh. “I don’t know.” I look at Dylan and give him a weak smile. His head drops and I place my finger under his chin, lifting his gaze back to me. “There’re a lot of unknowns.” I shrug. “But I promise you, everything will be okay. I’m just trying to figure out how to get to that point,” I stammer as tears well up in the corners of my eyes.

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