Page 59 of Christmas Home

“I’ll make him a bad man.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said, using an endearment, which I don’t think she’d ever done before. “Listen to me, you’re not cursed, you’ve been hurt, and none of that was your fault. The adults in your life were supposed to protect and keep you safe. Nothurt you, not damage you. They made you think you were the problem, but sweetie, it never was you. You are beautiful inside and out, and even though I know that’s hard for you to see, to accept, it’s what’s true.”

“Every man I ever went out with, every single one, hit me, or hurt me, or stole from me—every one of them, Anita. The common theme here is me, I’m the problem.”

She paused, and, for a moment, I thought I might’ve convinced her. “The common denominator here, Clyde, is you were abused by someone who should’ve loved you, protected you. You didn’t make those men damaged or abusive. They already were. They recognized you and were drawn to you because they believed they would get away with being abusive. Let me ask you this. Do you think Ruther would ever physically harm you?”

I shook my head and answered, wiping the snot away from my face. “No, I don’t think that’s him.”

“Did his friend not tell you he was the best man he knew?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“He won’t go bad just because you love him, Clyde. Loving someone good and decent makes them better and even more decent. Loving someone who is hurt and who isn’t doing the work to make themselves better? That’s a different story. But Clyde, you’re doing the work even now as we’re having this conversation. You might have to accept the fact that by letting Ruther love you, you might actually be giving him the ability to become an even better man than he is now.”

I drew in a breath, shocked at that concept. My mind wanted to reject that line of reasoning even before I could consider it. No way could loving me make him a better man. But then, I remembered when he’d been on the verge of a panic attack, and I’d touched or distracted him, and he’d calmed down.

He’d admitted that and told me my presence made him feel calmer and more in control.

“Is that even possible?” I asked Anita, wanting desperately to believe it to be true.

She chuckled. “It’s a given to most people, my dearest Clyde,” she said, once again using another endearment. “Love makes most people better, lifts us up, and causes us to see the world differently, through the eyes of another person. Yes, I think that’s possible, but the question isn’t for me to answer. Do you, Clyde, believe that could be true?”

I nodded, instantly believing and surprised that I could. “Yeah, I-I think so.”

“When you know, or feel confident enough to let that be a possibility, then you should let Ruther know. I’m going to come to the clinic on Tuesday. Is that soon enough for us to have another session?”

“Yes, sorry for calling you at home.”

“No, stop that. This is the commitment I’ve made to you, and you’re worth it. If you need me in the meantime, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“Clyde?” she asked. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. This is tough for someone who’s been through the trauma you have.”

The tears hit me again, just hearing those words from someone I admired as much as I did Anita.

“Thank you,” I managed to say before I hung up.

I spent the rest of the day in bed, holding onto a pillow and crying harder than I had since I’d been a little boy.

Unlike then, I wasn’t crying because I’d been beaten up. Rather, I was crying because I realized I had been standing between myself and my happiness all because I thoughtsomething was wrong with me. Something that would turn the beautiful man I knew Ruther to be into my father.

After talking to Anita, I could see that for the bullshit it really was. Ruther would never become my father, and neither would I. But if I didn’t step up to the plate or let him off the hook, I was going to, as Corey pointed out, hurt him. Maybe not physically like my dad had done to me, or like the men I’d let into my life in the past, but I was going to cause him pain, nonetheless.

Now was the time for me to decide whether to let him in or not. I just wish I knew what decision I was going to make. I might want him, but that didn’t mean I was strong enough to let him in. As I lay buried under my covers, I decided to use the time he’d given me to figure that out.

One way or another, I would give Ruther an answer the next time I saw him.

forty-seven

Ruther

The week after Thanksgivingpassed in a whirl. After Corey and I returned from our Nashville respite, we dove into our proposal. Lance had drawn sketches of various home designs we’d be using. Most were the same inside as the rest. All had open floor plans, some slightly different from the others, making building the homes more cost-effective.

The exteriors, though, were six different historical designs. I knew, looking at the sketches, the houses would be spectacular. Lance had taken into consideration that people here in Crawford City would likely need bigger yards. But the design of the neighborhoods should also lead to community interaction with the front porches and small front yards, and with the garages attached to the back and an alley running between the lines of homes.

The aesthetic would be beautiful, and since most people would be using their driveways, hopefully the streets could be used for meeting places between neighbors and their kids.

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