Page 36 of Mending Me

“You ready?” His voice behind me pulled my attention away from the people and towards him. I spun around to find him carrying a large wicker basket in one hand with a blanket draped over his other arm. I hadn’t noticed them since they were in the back of the SUV behind the row of seats.

“Hank.” I took a breath, my brain putting together what we were doing for our date. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to dinner on the water like I promised,” he mused before turning on his heels and walking towards the park.

I trailed behind him as we walked towards a patch of grass and some trees scattered around in a seemingly disorganized manner. When we reached the trees closest to the water, he set the basket down on the grass and laid out the blanket under a tree. Then, he moved the basket to one corner of the blanket and sat down. He reached his hand to me and helped me take a seat next to him. I watched as he pulled out two plates, silverware, and plastic cups from inside the basket. Under the cutlery, hepulled out plastic containers that were full of food. I looked at him and couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re taking me on a picnic?” My eyebrows raised and I bit my bottom lip. This was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.

“I hope that’s okay,” he said, opening up the containers that held piping hot food. As he did, my nose was filled with the smell of spices and chili peppers. I looked in the containers and gasped. Each one was filled with what looked to be home-cooked Mexican food.

“Did you make all of this?” I couldn’t hide the shock in my voice which caused him to laugh.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” He looked at me with a grin that I wanted to cover with a kiss.

“I don’t know, I…I’ve never had a man cook me dinner before. Not to mention the whole picnic thing. I think this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” My heart fluttered in my chest. Setting the container down, he leaned in and kissed me.

“You deserve to have someone be nice to you, Bailey. I consider myself lucky to get to be the one who is.” I felt my cheeks get warm at his words.

“You know, for an ex-soldier, you’re kinda a big softy,” I teased, resting a hand on his cheek.

“Only for you,” he whispered through a soft smile close to my lips before pulling away.

We started eating and he explained each dish to me as we did. I loved how he explained them in great detail but loved even more how he spoke of how he learned to make them. He told me stories about how he and his mother would spend hours together in the kitchen cooking after school. How she would help him reach the counter by letting him stand on a chair and how she would refuse to speak anything but Spanish to him as theycooked. It made my heart hurt to think of all the memories he didn’t get to have with her because he lost her at such a young age. The memories he did have though, he shared with a fervor.

“And we would laugh and laugh,” he said, chuckling to himself as he took another bite of his food. As he did, some of the rice from his spoon fell off, landing on the blanket and nearly missing his pants. Without even skipping a beat, I reached over, picked up the spilled food, and popped it in my mouth. What could I say? It was too good to waste.

“Blondie,” he said, studying my face, “you have something on your…” He wiggled his finger near the corner of his mouth.

“Oh!” I went to wipe it away but he stopped me by grabbing my wrist.

“Here, let me get it.” Holding onto my wrist he pulled me closer until my face was in front of his. Since he was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, I had to sit on my knees to lean down to get close enough. Wrapping his hand around the side of my neck, he pulled me in and licked the side of my lips before pushing his tongue into my mouth, kissing me without shame right in the middle of the busy park. He pulled away from me and looked at my mouth, “There, I think I got it.” I rolled my eyes at him as I leaned back to sit on my butt again.

“I like hearing you talk about your mom, I can tell how much you love her. I’m sorry you lost her so soon.” I wasn’t sure if it was my place to say it, but I wanted him to know that he was safe to talk to me about her if he wanted to.

“I do love her. Even though she’s been gone for twenty years, I still love her more than anything.” His eyes were cast down toward the blanket. He seemed to be lost in a memory.

“I don’t mean to pry but…how did she die?” I played with the hem of my dress and worried I’d crossed a line. I didn’t want him to feel as if I was trying to be nosy, I just genuinely wanted to know more about him and his story.

“She died in a car accident.” His voice came out flat and void of emotion. His eyes met mine and I watched him with bated breath, unsure of what to say next. Thankfully for me, Hank kept talking. “My father killed her when he was driving home drunk. They had gone to dinner downtown and…he had too much to drink and…” His eyes fell to the blanket again. My hand reached for his in a desperate attempt to comfort him through his pain. His thumb swiped back and forth across the back of my hand but he didn’t look at me.

“It changed him, losing my mother. He had never been an overtly happy man before she died, but after she was gone, nothing was good enough for him.” He kept his eyes cast down toward the blanket as he shared his story and my heart squeezed in my chest. “Everything I did was wrong. Everything I did was a reason for punishment. He took all of his anger out on me, as if I was the one who killed her. Stupid bastard.”

“Hank…” I started, unsure of where to take my words next.

“Even now, twenty years later, his anger is embedded into my skin. A permanent reminder of what I lost and what I gained in return. A mother who I loved and a father who would only leave me alone after he beat me until I bled.” My breath caught in my throat hearing him share this about himself.

“The scars on your back…” My voice came out hardly above a whisper. I could feel the tears in my eyes as I thought about Hank as a little boy having to survive that kind of childhood.

“He loved using his belt.” He pursed his lips together and shook his head, blowing out a long breath as he did. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump this on you tonight. You asked about my mother, not about my scars or my childhood trauma.” He tried to laugh it off but I wouldn’t let him.

“Hank,” I moved so I was closer to him and took both his hands in mine, “we all have scars, even me. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.” I licked my lipsand took a breath. Was I really going to tell him now? I felt like I had to since he had shared so much with me. His act of bravery had inspired me to be brave and share a piece of myself with him too. He watched me intently, his deep brown eyes never breaking away from mine. When he cocked his head to one side, I took that as my invitation to keep going.

“Two years ago, while I was finishing up at an event I was working at…” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my heart rate which was reaching an unhealthy beats per minute, “I was attacked. Not just attacked, I was raped.” I couldn’t look at him any longer, the shame filling my body made it impossible. I hadn’t even realized I started crying until a big, wet tear splashed on the back of my hand. He gently wiped it away with his thumb, his hands slowly starting to squeeze mine with more power.

“Bailey, I?—”

“No, let me finish.” I needed to get this out before I couldn’t anymore. “I was raped outside of the event hall I worked at. It was the end of the night and I was trying to help by taking out the trash. The guy came out of nowhere and had me on the ground before I even knew what was happening. I tried to fight back but he was too strong. He had a knife, he…he threatened to kill me.” My words broke between sobs and I tried to catch my breath. Talking about this never got easier. It felt as if it was happening all over again every time I told the story. He sat up and pulled me closer to him, wrapping his body around mine like a shield.

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