Page 87 of Lavender Moon

He’s trying.

At least that’s what he said, and as I stand here under the warm water, I try not to get my hopes up. This is just one morning. As happy as I am to see the absence of anger and bitterness, it can’t be gone just like that. Even if he had dropped to his knees in the kitchen and professed to be a changed man, I wouldn’t believe no matter how badly I’d want to.

But the simple act of apologizing for being a slobbering idiot last night? And putting on his old ripped jeans and a clean shirt that made him look like the Kaleb I remember? Those little things give me hope that he’s taken a step. It’s a small hope, and I’m going to hold it very delicately. But still… it was good to see.

Just take it for what it is, I tell myself as I frown at the black paint that’s stuck to the heel of my hand, trying to work it out with some suds from my bodywash and the strength of my thumb.

After the events of last night and the shitty sleep I got thereafter, I gave up when I saw the first trace of daylight and got up.

The pain of yesterday had me on the verge of giving up. Thoughts of packing my things and heading back to the city alone were so dark and dismal and were eating me up from the inside. If I didn’t get it out, it felt like I was going to implode into a cloud of black ash. Instead, I let it all out onto my canvas like I have in the weeks since Kaleb came home.

Over the din of the shower, I hear the muted sound of the front door slamming closed, jarring me from my little trance. Rinsing the rest of the conditioner out of my hair, I shut off the water. Pulling the curtain aside, I go to reach for the towel I keep on the nearby rack to find nothing.

Oh my God, Kaleb took the last towel with his shower this morning, and I’ll bet you anything it’s laying in a damp heap on his bedroom floor. Fabulous.

Clutching the curtain close to my body, I call out. “K, is that you?”

“Yeah,” he shouts back from the kitchen.

“Could you bring me a towel, please?”

“Yeah…” he bellows back after a short pause. “Yeah, just a sec.”

I’m starting to shiver when the bathroom door swings open and Kaleb walks in, carrying the basket of clean linens that’d I’d forgotten in the dryer. He glances at the empty towel rack and blinks, shaking his head as if his morning shower is just coming back to him.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, setting down the basket and lifting a fluffy lilac-colored towel and walking it over to me.

“It’s okay. Thanks,” I say taking it from him and ducking behind the curtain to wrap it around me. When I have it secured around my boobs, I pull the curtain back again and step out to find him hanging a couple more towels on the rack. I pick up another one and start patting my hair dry, and a little tiny light glows to life inside me when he starts folding the rest and putting them in the wooden cupboard next to the door. But again, I try not to make too much of it and step out of the room and head to my own to finish drying off.

Dressed in my favorite baggy jeans and Turn it Up baby tee, I come out into the kitchen and my attention is immediately pulled to a brand-new sketchpad laying on the surface. I feel my eyebrows bend curiously at it before opening the fridge and finding something else unexpected. Right on the center rack sits a full six pack of root beer. I haven’t even thought about my favorite beverage in so long, and now my mouth is watering for it.

“Thought you could use a beer.” Kaleb’s voice grabs my attention from the hallway entrance and I look up, feeling my face lighten in a grateful expression.

“Thank you,” I exhale through my nose, feeling a whisper of a smile pull at the corners of my mouth as I look back down and reach in to grab one of the inviting brown bottles. When I look back up, shutting the fridge door, I see what looks like a warm look in his eyes, and the rest of his face is relaxed. For once it’s not pulled into a rough landscape of hard planes and rigid lines. It’s like my pleasant reaction to his thoughtful gesture brought him a modicum of peace.

He finally nods, his eyes half-lidded – again, in a way that suggests relaxed and not broody.

From there, I shuffle gingerly out of the kitchen towards the living room, not sure what I intend to do there besides enjoy my root beer.

So far, this day has been the best in a long time, but still, I tread lightly, giving this dynamic time and space to breathe and hopefully grow.

38

KALEB

Iwant to go to Luna.

For those first few weeks I was home, I missed her and I wanted her, but it was endurable as I had my anger and my traumatic memories to keep me company, making me only vaguely aware of how I was hurting her. But seeing her tears that night… it gave me a feeling bigger and worse than all the other turbulence going on inside me. It overshadowed it, making it seem smaller and less significant.

I haven’t been perfect since that awakening, as my demons still try like hell to follow me around. I still have my bad days where I’m not motivated to do anything but lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling… but I’m nice to Luna. Even when she comes to my room and gives me shit for missing a PT appointment or not getting up and showering, I make a conscious effort not to indulge those demons that are floating around overhead. I don’t snap at her like they want me to.

And when I'm having an okay day, I try to put in a little effort, like asking her about her classes, or putting a bunch of violets in a mason jar for her on the table when I saw them in the nearby field.

What I haven’t done much of is physically touching her. I’ve been afraid to for fear that the monsters will overtake me again, and I don’t want to give either of us false hope – especially with those bad days still coming around, even if they are rarer.

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve been gradually finding pieces of my old self and snapping them carefully back into place. Finding that sketchpad near the checkout in the market was like a small omen, and I picked it up on impulse. It’s been a good thing as it’s gotten me back into drawing. Sometimes I hole up in the garage, tinkering on the bike. Sometimes I sit in the living room with Luna and draw while she reads or looks up art projects on YouTube. She’s more relaxed, I’ve noticed, which is a good thing, but we’re still missing something. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her be my silly girl, and that’s on me. Like I said, I’ve been too afraid to try and make things all better and blissfully happy when I’m not there yet.

But still, I think as I sit here taking a stupid salt bath… I have to admit though, it really helps draw the pain out when I’m sore after a PT session, or when I’ve done too much around the house.

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