Page 14 of Love and Other Mental Health Concerns
I get about twenty minutes into a conversation with Jax before he starts to struggle keeping his eyes open. It isn’t much, but he is open to me researching some inpatient treatment centers for him and that feels like a win. At this point, any engagement from him regarding aftercare would be a huge improvement.
I double check that I have everything in my bag to go home, leaving most of my mobile office locked in a drawer at the nurses’ station. A quick goodnight to the evening staff and I am heading toward the exit. Nick is right outside, under the overhang, not far from where my bike is locked up. He hops out of his truck, a big, dark grey, pick-up with tinted windows. I don’t know much about cars, but it looks like he cares a lot about this one. It is sparkling clean, or at least it is compared to my car. My car, that is still rocking the leftover glue on the bumper and back windows from when I tried to remove all the stickers from the previous owner. Maybe he really does know a thing or two about cars.
As I unlock my bike, he hops out of the driver’s side and comes over to help me get it loaded into the bed of the truck. He has apparently lost the sweater he wore to work, and the sleeves on the button down are now rolled up to his elbows, revealing those tattoos that have been haunting me since the bar. I avertmy eyes. I’m pretty sure my beer did not allow for discretion the other night and I don’t want him to keep catching me checking him out.
“Thank you for this, you really didn’t have to. I have some rain gear that I can throw on for days like today.” I try and explain.
“Yeah I know, I saw you riding home in it last week. It was so sad.” He makes a sad puppy dog face that makes me want to simultaneously punch him and hug him for taking pity on me.
“It’s a good way to get exercise, better for the environment, better parking options.”
“You don’t need to make a case to me Marcy, this is just a ride. You can relax.” He says, with grin on his face. Like he can tell I was starting to babble a bit. I take a deep breath, try and calm my nerves as we get into the close quarters of his truck cab.
“This is a really nice truck,” My compliment sounds strained as it leaves my mouth, but it’s true. It seems to have every bell and whistle, and just like the outside, it is impeccably clean. I haven’t driven my car in months, but I am still willing to bet I could dress and feed myself for a week out of whatever I have thrown in the back seat.
“Thanks, since I am on the road so much for work, I don’t really own much else. Without a house or a place to call my own, this truck has become that comfort place for me. Sounds ridiculous, I’m sure.”
“No, not at all. Is that why you decorate your office too?” His jaw gently clenches and he gets a bit of blush.
“You noticed that, huh?” He asks with mild surprise. “Yeah, I like to try and make my office feel homey when I get to my assignments. I spend more time there than the hotels I stay in and its comforting to make a space feel like mine.”
No, he is not a robot.
I hesitate to share more but try and channel the encouragement from the loved ones in my life. If he isn’t staying long term, this isn’t that much of a risk, I could open up a little. “I have anxiety, so the comfort my apartment brings me has become a fundamental part of my life. I haven’t always had a stable place to call home either, so I get what you mean. It’s important to haveyourplace.” I release a breath, that wasn’t so bad.
“Exactly. Have you lived in your apartment long?”
“About ten years.”
He gives me a thoughtful glance as he pulls out of the hospital driveway, toward town. His body language is relaxed, left hand on the wheel and his right hand is resting loosely on the gear shifter in the center console. I’m not staring at his forearms at all. I think the same Bon Iver tunes I heard in his office are playing lightly in the background, and it fits so beautifully with the rain gliding down the windows as we drive.
“It’s easy to see why someone would want to call North River home,” Nick starts. “Ten years in one apartment is a long time, have you always lived in this town?” He skipped over asking me more about my anxiety, which is its own relief. Maybe that was too heavy of a share for a first car ride situation. I start to fidget a bit.
“Mostly. I lived in Minneapolis for a couple years while I attended Graduate School but moved back after graduation.”
“Didn’t want to stay in the city?” He asks.
I hesitate. The honest answer was that I couldn’t sleep or eat after the little life I tried to create outside of North River blew up in my face in a grand fashion. My mental health fell apart at that point, and I needed to come home. I needed Stan and Gary to put me back together, Annie too. Needed the warmth of that apartment above the sandwich shop they always left for me to come back to. I am not ready for all the honesty just yet. I wantto let this man in enough to test waters, not open floodgates. I’m taking too long to say anything, but Nick is patient.
“I knew I wanted to come back to North River eventually, and I got a job in Case Management through the county, so it made sense. I could work, earn my hours needed for my license, and come back to the apartment that Stan and Gary kept for me.” Not a total lie.
“Stan and Gary? At Harolds?”
“Yes…have you met them?” I am going to kill them if they have been playing secret matchmaker, they have failed to mention that they met Nick already.
“Yes, they make a great Italian Combo! I chatted with them one day, trying to get some recipe secrets out of them for their lentil soup. Love that place, it always smells like fresh bread.”
“It does, as does my apartment. They have been my unofficial adoptive parents since I was a teenager. I live above their shop.” See? I could share.
“Well thank you, that tells me where to drive.” As he pulls into downtown, I notice that the hanging baskets on the streetlights have been switched over to fall florals. Yellow, maroon and violet chrysanthemums spilling over, as shop keepers work in their windows to match the autumn vibe. I do love that the people in this town consistently invest in keeping North River this idyllic refuge in a busy world. This is always highlighted with the seasonal changes around the square and streets of downtown, putting those Hallmark movie towns to shame.
“Do you mind pulling into the parking lot behind the shop? My stairs are there.”
“Of course.” As he pulls into the lot, he parks next to my car and seems to give it a once-over. “Is that your vehicle?”
Now that I’m sitting is his very adult truck, I squirm a bit when I look at my glue-covered Escape. “Yes, that’s her. She isn’tfancy but she does the trick…well when she is running, or fixed. So, she will be doing to trick soon…I think.” I’m rambling and struggling with my eye contact.
“Marcy, it’s a solid car. With the right maintenance, you will be able to drive it forever.” He talks to me reassuringly, like he can tell I’m nervous and is trying to make me feel better. Why am I so rusty over very basic interactions with a man? Why do I care if he doesn’t think my car is cool? I feel like I’m sixteen and failing to fit in with the popular crowd again.
