Page 38 of Free Heart
“I know Lowell too, and he’s no danger.”
“Not when he’s in his right mind,” Rye murmurs, gazing into the distance. “But when he’s not… It’s not that he’d ever do or say anything purposely traumatizing to Jeanie, but his PTSDepisodes can be overwhelming. She’s too young to understand what’s happening. Not that Andrew even knows about any of that.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just squeeze Rye’s hand, and he pulls it away from me.
“But, hey, the sex is great.”
I laugh, feeling how hard he’s trying to break the tension. “I can tell.”
He checks his watch. “Oops. I need to get going.” Standing up and brushing the back of his pants, Rye asks, “What’s the plan for when Peggy Jo returns?”
“I don’t know.”
We start toward the cars, where we’ll head our separate ways. Lowell’s with Dan now, and I should go relieve him so he can play whatever games Rye has in store for him tonight. The looks that pass between them when they’re in the same room are hot as fire lately, and I’m envious. It wasn’t that long ago I was getting fucked stupid on the regular too. It’ll be months before I can even hope to get some dick, probably.
“She’ll be back eventually, though, right? She’s not moving to her daughter’s permanently?”
“No, she’ll be back. Hopefully Dan’s leg will be healed enough that we can transfer to the van.”
“What’s the timeline for all that?”
I shrug helplessly. “I feel like we’re living in a purgatory called Wait and See. Peggy Jo isn’t sure when she’s going to want to leave Bella and the baby, and Dan’s leg is going to heal at its own rate, no matter how he tries to use the powers of his mind to make it go faster. I still haven’t seen the first of the hospital bills. I’m terrified each time I get the mail from his P.O. box. I just want it all over with, so I know how it turns out.”
“It sounds like you’re as impatient as he is.”
I laugh as we approach my car, using the key fob to unlock the door. “I guess I am. There’s a lot I miss about life before the accident.”
“What do you miss most?”
“Right now? If I’m honest, the sex.”
Rye throws his head back and laughs.
“Seriously,” I say. “I mean, I can wait, but before this accident I was getting railed into next week nearly every day, and I miss it.”
Rye snorts. “Getting railed into next week seems unlikely for a while.”
“Yeah,” I say wistfully. “But I also miss not feeling so stuck. Each day with Dan was an adventure. We were still getting to know each other, and everything felt so new and sweet. I miss feeling like there’s every possibility that we’re going to have one of the best days of our lives every time I wake up with him.”
“I’m sorry. This really sucks.”
I pull a ponytail holder out of my pocket and put my wet hair up, the misty rain drifting across my face. “I’m sleeping on the sofa, working two jobs, taking care of him, cleaning the house, caring for the cats, and it’s starting to get to me. Don’t tell him, though. I don’t want him to think I’m going to leave him. He’s got abandonment issues, you know. From foster care.”
“What we talk about stays between us, like what I told you earlier about Andrew and Lowell,” Rye says firmly. “We’re friends now too.”
“Thank you.” I open the car door, reach inside for an umbrella, and pop it open. It’s fairly useless in this kind of rain, but I’m getting soaked through. “I appreciate all you’re doing for him. Forus. I really am grateful for all the help you and Lowell give during the day. I know you two were probably going to train for the Dawn Wall more seriously than you have been, and I hope Dan’s not getting in the way.”
“Nah, this weather’s in the way,” Rye says. “Besides, Lowell has some old physical injuries that act up when it’s wet and cold, and some emotional struggles this time of year too. We’d thought if the weather was good, working toward a goal would help him, but it’s rain, rain, go away all day, every day. Not unexpected for November.”
The drizzle thickens as if to demonstrate, and we’re both huddling beneath the umbrella now, trying to stay dry. “I guess we all have our struggles.”
“Life ain’t all roses, that’s for sure. But don’t let yourself burn out,” Rye says, squeezing my arm. “Reach out for help, alright?”
I don’t want to be like Dan and say I can do this on my own, so I agree. But deep down, I know I won’t ask for more help. So many people are already doing so much, and I don’t see how I can possibly ask anyone to do more. It’s my responsibility to take care of Dan, just like my dad took care of my mom, and I’ll see it through.
“Thanks, Rye,” I say instead, as a compromise. “You’re a good friend.”
“So are you.” He lifts a brow at me as I put the umbrella down and move to get into the car. “Have you told Dan about the GoFundMe yet?”
