Page 41 of Baring All
“Daddy was just telling us about his supremely crappy day.”
I search Monique’s face, take in her body language, still prepared to step in if the situation requires it. But the woman is as relaxed as her daughter. To my continued surprise, she curls into Jerome’s body, hugging him close.
“Come on, my love. Let’s get you fed. You’ll feel much better after a good meal and some of this wonderful wine Lola’s lovely young man brought for you.” I watch in fascination as she goes up on tiptoe and places a kiss on his whiskered cheek.
“Yeah? He brought me wine? Good man.”
Jerome goes over to the table in the dining nook, and, for the first time, I notice the table is now set for dinner. We take our seats, and Monique serves up an incredible meal, the likes of which I’ve not enjoyed in many years. Conversation flows easily. A twinge of jealousy rocks me for a second at the close bond this family shares.
“Sweetheart, your mother tells me you’ve been having nightmares again. What’s going on? Everything okay?”
I feel the muscles in Eloise’s thigh go rigid where it touches mine. Intrigued at her response, I turn to look at her. Her face has gone pale as milk.
“It’s nothing serious, Daddy. I’ve just been a little stressed lately, and you know I have bad dreams when I’m stressed. I’ve made an appointment with Doc Hancock to chat about it, so it’s all good.”
The man looks like he’s about to say more, then changes his mind. “So, Xavier, tell us about yourself. What do you do?”
“I’m in the Navy.”
“Yeah? How long you been in?”
“I joined straight out of high school, been in for seventeen years.”
“What division of the Navy you in?”
“I’m a SEAL, sir.”
“Ah, makes sense you’re so economical with your information then.”
The polite way he phrases that makes me laugh, and I find myself at ease for the first time since arriving. Conversation hops from topic to topic, Monique serves up a dessert that would make angels weep, and the evening flies by.
Eloise and her mother are saying their goodbyes, and Jerome pulls me to the side. “I don’t know what the situation is between you and Lola – it’s none of my business. But I’m going to ask you, man-to-man, to go easy on my girl. She’s been through hell this last while. Don’t make it harder on her, yeah?”
Without waiting for a response, he claps me on the back and returns to his wife’s side. Standing off to the side, watching them say their goodbyes, it’s obvious to see the love and respect these people have for each other. An unexpected yearning to have what they have twists my gut, leaving me momentarily breathless.
19
ELOISE
Walking into Dr. Hancock’s office, I can feel some of the tension I’ve been carrying in my body ease some. Simply being here gives me hope that I can get through my current turmoil. This woman has single-handedly kept me sane through some of the most difficult days of my life.
The trauma of the shooting, the rage at having the life I’d planned for myself so brutally snatched from me, and the feelings of being ‘less than’ after my hysterectomy came close to breaking me. If not for her, it would have been all too easy to give up on life.
“Eloise, hello. Please, come in. Sit.” Dr. Hancock’s voice is soft and soothing, a balm to my ragged soul.
I smother a yawn as I take the seat opposite her. I’m exhausted. The nightmares are regular now, coming in thick and fast. Hopefully, with the doc’s help, I can find a way past them again. I can’t go on like this. I need to be alert to do my job and not find myself in a similar situation. Knowing this adds to my stress, and it all goes around in one vicious circle.
“How have you been?” she asks once I’m settled.
I automatically go to tell her I’m fine, catching myself in the lie before the words actually make their way out of my mouth. Her soft chuckle tells me she knows exactly what happened.
“I was doing great. The dreams stopped. Things were going well. Then they weren’t.” I shrug, at a loss on how else to put it. “It kinda all happened at once, and I think that’s what threw me off.”
“Okay. Want to unpack what happened that you feel triggered you?” Right out of the gate, so Dr. Hancock’s style.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I contemplate where to start. She knows my history, how old-fashioned my aunts are, and how difficult I find the whole situation. I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready or able to tell my family what took place that fateful day, or what the result of it is. Feelings of inadequacy and being less than plague me hard enough without my family’s judgment added to the mix.
“Eloise?”
