Page 17 of Hearing Hank

I leave Alden Security with a spinning head and a start date for Monday two weeks from now. I’ll do a little research between now and then, to make sure they are as good as they seem to be, but I have a good feeling about this.

21

Hank

Ifindmyselfwatchingthe road and the driveway all afternoon, waiting for the sight of Lee’s car. I want to tell him what happened in town, and how good it felt to be able to speak up. I want to share my day and thoughts with him as much as I want to touch him again. I can acknowledge, at least to myself, that I may be in trouble here. The lust and attraction aren’t a surprise or a problem. The intensity is higher than I’ve ever experienced, but that’s also not what’s making me nervous. I want to share my day with him and have him share his with me. All the highs and lows and irritations and little joys. And that’s what scares me. I don’t want to need him. Wanting him is well and good, but I’m not ready to need someone.

It’s late afternoon by the time his car actually pulls into the driveway, and I just resist the urge to go running up and jump on him like an over-eager puppy. I settle for walking towards him and watching admiringly as he unfolds himself from the little car and stretches. The sliver of skin that shows when his shirt rides up on the stretch has my mouth watering. He grins at me over the top of the car, and I can physically feel my heart stop and leap in my chest.

It’s too late. I managed to go and fall all the way in love with a guy I just met.

The pleasure at seeing Lee again is instantly overwhelmed by fear that makes my chest tighten and my stomach sink. I can’t be in love. How could I be stupid enough to let someone have that kind of power over me? I don’t want this. I wanted fun and sex and conversation. Not someone who would burrow their way into my heart and make themselves vital to my being in a matter of days.

“Guess what, guess what!” Lee exclaims, bouncing up and down in place. He doesn’t wait for me to guess. “I got a job! A really great job, I think. I had the interview today, and I did some background checks on the company. The interview went great and they offered me a lot more than I was making before! And it’s my favorite kind of work! It’s such a perfect job that I’m a little afraid that it’s too good to be true.” His eyebrows draw together for a second in mock worry, but they can’t hold their ground against his smile.

I want to be happy for him, I really do, but the realization that he’s become so important to me in a matter of days has my anxiety overtaking me like a tsunami. The news that he got a job in Denver that he’s so excited about when he hadn’t even mentioned he was interviewing, feels chaotic and unpredictable. And, of course, the feeling of chaos adds to the fear and anxiety. I’m suddenly swamped by the realization that Lee, and my feelings for him, are a real threat to the comforting sameness of my life and my routines. I’ve known him a week and he’s already changed everything.

Lee heads around the car towards me, and all I can think is that if I let him touch me I’ll be lost. Sucked by love into the dependence and unpredictability that I walked away from at 16. I can’t do it again. Fight or flight kicks in hard, and I spin and literally run away from him. At the corner of the barn, I glance over my shoulder to see if he’s following me like I’m fleeing from an ax murderer instead of the man I love. He’s still standing by the car looking hurt and bewildered, and a significant part of me wants to turn around and apologize. It doesn’t hold a candle to the part of me that wants to be safe though, so I keep going until Lee and the pain I caused him are out of my sight.

When I run out of breath I find myself at the tree line edging one of the fields and collapse against the trunk of an oak tree. I rest my arms on my drawn-up knees and breath in the smell of the land and home. After a few minutes of breathing exercises, I’ve calmed down enough to realize that I need to send Lee a text. It’s not fair to leave him thinking that he did something wrong.

I open my text app and can’t force my fingers to move. After an eon of internal debate, I finally type,I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I know I should say something else, at least try to explain, but the adrenaline is wearing off and I’m suddenly so tired. And it hurts. I don’t want to walk away from whatever this is that we have. I don’t want to cause Lee any pain. But I’m sure it will hurt more when he walks away later, and I can’t face the idea of that.

Trudging home across the fields, I text Wyatt to let him know that I didn’t quite get everything shut up for the night, so he knows to go check. I tell him I don’t feel well, which is true enough. Tomorrow being Sunday they won’t expect to see me, so I’ll have a day to sleep and hide. I don’t know what to do next. All I know is that I can’t deal with facing anyone right now.

22

Lee

Ispendtheeveningalternating between anger and sadness. I also spend a good deal of energy fighting the urge to text Hank and demand an explanation. I’ve always had a firm no-chasing policy, but I feel hollow and devastated in a way that I’ve never been from a breakup. Like I’ve lost something essential to my well-being, and I have no idea why. It feels like a slap in the face that just when I decide that he might be worth re-imagining my life for, he decided that I wasn’t. I’m not too proud to admit that there’s an edge of insult to my anger.

My sleep is fitful and not at all restful, and I wake up in the morning irritated and moody. I feel like hitting something, and I decide that a good physical workout might prevent me from taking my bitchiness out on Wyatt and Mark, who have been nothing but kind to me.

Is there a gym here?I text Paul.I need to hit something.

Uh Oh,Paul replies.Come over, I’ll go with you.

I dress in leggings and a tank and throw a change of clothes in a bag. I’m very relieved when I walk out into the main areas of the house and find them empty. The kitchen is also deserted. I’m not sure where Wyatt and Mark are, but I’m glad I don’t have to talk to them. I make myself a quick coffee, borrow a travel cup, and hit the road in short order. It’s a beautiful day, and that makes me even bitchier. I actively try not to appreciate the fresh air and lack of traffic, but I notice it, and I like it. Part of me was looking forward to maybe trying something different. I still could move up here, but how awkward would that be? Pretty sure it would break the no-chasing policy.

Paul is waiting on his porch when I pull in, in his own workout wear. I feel a rush of affection. It’s a wonderful thing to have a friend that will drop whatever they have planned and be there for you when you need them.

He climbs into my car and asks, “Do you want to spill now, or do you want to wait until we’re good and sweaty?”

I sigh. “There’s a lot. I got a call yesterday morning after Hank left my house. Wyatt recommended me for a job with an agency run by friends of his. I went in for an interview yesterday afternoon. It went great, they offered me the job, and it pays a lot more than I was making before, with good benefits. It’s also the kind of analysis work I like.” Paul doesn’t really know what I do either, it’s not the kind of thing you can share, even with good friends. He knows it’s some kind of data and statistical analysis, and he teasingly calls me a nerd sometimes. He’s not entirely wrong.

“Okay,” Paul says, “That’s awesome. I’m really happy for you, but I’m pretty sure that’s not why you need to hit something.”

“No,” I reply, “It’s not. I drove back here yesterday all excited to tell Hank. We had the best night last night, and everything was good when he left this morning. And I wanted to tell him that the job offers the option of working remotely the majority of the time. I wanted to let him know that I wanted to make the space to see where this thing between us was going. Instead, I started to tell him and he got all upset and ran away.”

My voice is getting higher and uneven as my eyes well up. I take a couple of deep breaths and continue. “He sent me a text a little bit later that said,I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I don’t have a clue what happened. I know he has anxiety, but I have no idea what set him off. He looked really happy to see me when I pulled in, and then he looked like he’d seen a ghost and ran away. I have no clue what to do now.”

“Shit,” Paul says, “I’m sorry. I’m thinking from your reaction that you’re pretty into him.”

“It’s so weird,” I tell him. “You know me, I’m usually pretty easygoing about these things, even when I’ve had serious relationships. I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me. But he became so important to me so fast. He’s hot, obviously, but that’s not it, or not most of it. We just fit together so perfectly. And what I’m most upset about is not the running or the text. It’s that I can’t help him with whatever is wrong without trampling a boundary he laid down. And I won’t do that.”

“Duh,” Paul says, “You’re a good person. He’s just going to have to work this one out by himself. We’ll go have a good workout and a great lunch, and you’ll feel better. While we’re eating I’ll tell you what Sam told me about Hank’s background. We can play armchair psychologists. He probably just needs some time to process. It has been pretty fast.”

“He hasn’t told me much about his family,” I reply. “He gets an unhappy look on his face when the subject comes up though. Whatever he went through, it wasn’t good.”

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