Page 24 of The One Who Won’t Get Away
“Okay, then I can figure something out.Worse case, we’ll try finding it on a satellite.”He leaned in, elbows on the table, voice low.“Can I ask you a question?About cars?”
I tried to laugh, but it was brittle.My nerves were so shot that I couldn’t even laugh it off, the way I usually did.“My biological parents didn’t have a car.We walked or rode the bus everywhere in Ukraine.My first car ride was the one that took me and my sisters from the orphanage to the airport.Then, once we were adopted and living in the US, all the ‘special trips’ with George started, and—” I gestured at the stack of papers in front of Nick, “You know how those road trips ended.”
Nick’s jaw ticked, but his voice stayed calm.“That makes sense.When you grow up associating something with danger, it sticks.”
I nodded, heat prickling my ears.“I know it’s stupid, but that’s why I live in Brooklyn.The subway runs really well here.”
“It’s not stupid,” he said, and his tone was so flat and factual that I almost believed it.“It’s perfectly normal.We all have different aversions.”
He didn’t say “trauma” or “trigger,” and I was grateful for that.I hated the therapy-speak.It made everything sound like it came from a pamphlet.
“Yeah, we all have our own cockroaches in our heads,” I mumbled.
“Cockroaches in our heads?”He smirked.“Now, I’m concerned.”
“It’s just a figure of speech.Cockroaches are nasty pests that can survive a nuclear holocaust.All the insecurities, fears, and stuff like that are just as nasty and just as hard to kill.”
“That sounds like an accurate description,” Nick agreed.He slid the papers back into the envelope.“You want me to hold on to this?Or do you need to keep it for your therapist?”
I smiled, the first real one of the morning.“Are you kidding?I’m not traumatizing unsuspecting therapists with my bag of crazy.”
The smile he returned didn’t reach his eyes.“I’ll keep it safe.”
A silence stretched between us.Not the bad kind, but not quite comfortable, either.The clatter of the espresso machine brought me back to the coffee shop, and I noticed the table next to us was now occupied by a couple of women with identical strollers.They looked at us, or maybe at Nick, and I got the sense they thought we were on the world’s worst date.
Nick must’ve picked up on it, too, because he said, “You want to walk?”
“Yeah,” I said, a little too fast.
Nick stood and let me go ahead.Except, I almost forgot my bag.Classic.He grabbed it, handed it to me, and we walked out together.
Outside, the air was warm and alive with the smell of rain and cigarettes.Fall wasn’t here quite yet but today hinted at its approach.I walked with my hands jammed in my pockets, and Nick kept at my side.
“Where to?”he asked.
I shrugged.“There’s a playground two blocks over.It’s mostly abandoned this early in the morning.If you want to look at the map and decide where we need to go and how we’ll get there, we can do it there.”
“Perfect,” he said.
We walked in silence until we reached the edge of the playground where I perched on the cold plastic of a swing.Nick sat on the next one over and pulled out his phone.
“Green Garden was the sign I always saw a few minutes before we’d get to the house,” I recalled.“Don’t know what state it was since we lived close to two state borders.”
It took Nick five minutes to track down the correct town.The neighborhood was harder since so much had changed, and satellite didn't provide the same exact view.That was the part we’d have to do in person.
“Looks like there’s a train going to a neighboring city every day.You think you can take a few days off to go with me?”Nick asked.
I nodded, knowing Lara would give me a vacation, especially if I told her why I needed it.My boss was a good friend who knew what I had survived, even if it was in broad strokes.“Yeah, I just have to let my boss know a few days ahead of time so she can adjust her own schedule.”
“Sounds good.I’ll look for a place we can stay that’s close enough,” Nick promised.
His steady presence, his reaction to my story, made me think this would all go smoothly.The panic at the idea of going back there didn’t even try to set in.But maybe it should’ve.
