6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Lennox
Once Ledger drops off the last of Roxie and Ivy’s things in their rooms, he takes a seat next to me. My new roommates are getting settled in, so I have a minute before I need to suck up my pride and work.
“Thank you.” His voice is strong with a hint of pride.
Sighing, I prepare to take a step in a new direction. “You’re right. I need help. Trying to figure things out on my own isn’t working, as much as it sucks to admit that.” It more than sucks. It’s painful to acknowledge just how much of a failure I am at the moment.
Something Ledger said hit me so hard, it’s been on repeat in my head.
‘ I even miss you putting fucking holes in my wall every week.’
I can’t even remember what that Lennox looks like, let alone how to get back to him. I used to joke around, talk shit with my sisters, and now? Now, I don’t see them for weeks on end.
“I don’t want to force you into anything, Len.” He sighs. “I just want you to love your life again.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I want that too, but it seems so … impossible? Far away? I’m not even sure anymore.”
Leaning my head back on the couch, I close my eyes and try to imagine what a happy Lennox looks like; with all I’ve been through, I can’t see it. There is no light at the end of the tunnel right now, even though I want there to be one so badly. My sudden openness seems like too much, too fast, and I can physically feel myself closing back up.
“It’s going to take time.” Ledger’s soft tone reaches me. “And I think … I think Roxie—and Ivy, for that matter—will be good for you.”
I don’t have to be looking at him to know he has a smile on his face.
“Well, I don’t really have a choice now, do I?” I chuckle halfheartedly, but it sounds more hysterical than I want. “They’re staying here, and I won’t go back on my word. Especially if they have nowhere else to go,” I add quietly so I’m not overheard.
“I don’t know the story there, but she didn’t have much stuff for the two of them,” Ledger says, and I nod.
It makes me curious about where they came from and why their lodging was such an important deciding factor with the job. She’s a physical therapist, so I would assume she’s not hurting for money, but maybe there is something else going on. It’s the distraction I need to take the focus off me, even if it’s only in my own mind.
Protectiveness mixes with my curiosity, but I shut that shit down fast. There’s no reason to dig into Roxie and her backstory. There’s no need to know why they packed up their lives within two days of getting the job and moved here, sight unseen. She’s not the one who needs saving here, and it’s best that I remember that.
“Alright, I think Ivy’s set for a while. Shall we talk?” Roxie walks into the living room and looks between Ledger and me, the picture of professionalism.
“I was just heading out, but you have my number if you need anything. It was nice to meet you, and I’ll be seeing you around, I’m sure.” Ledger stands and shakes Roxie’s hand before nodding to me and walking out the front door .
Was I hoping for a buffer with all the medical jargon? Maybe, but it appears Ledger isn’t going to let me ignore it anymore. It’s time to face my injury and all my other problems head-on, whether I’m ready or not. It’s fucking scary as hell, though.
I blow out a steady breath as Roxie takes a seat in the chair across from me.
“So, I haven’t had a chance to request records from the hospital about your surgery and how things went, but I’d like to know how you’re feeling overall.” Her voice still holds a professional tone, but there is a kindness radiating through it, and I kind of hate it. The fire from earlier, when she told off Ledger and me, is nowhere to be seen and I want to bring it back somehow.
“I’m, um, feeling okay, I guess. The brace fucking sucks.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, full leg braces are the worst, but the good news is, if you work hard but don’t push yourself too hard,” she emphasizes, “you won’t have it locked completely for very long. The biggest thing with an injury and subsequent surgery, like this, is moving it right away. The longer the muscle stays dormant, the harder it is to keep any mobility. I won’t lie to you and say this will be a walk in the park. It’s going to suck more than it doesn’t, and it’s going to hurt … a lot.” She barely holds back her grimace, but I see it. “I don’t see any reason why you can’t have full mobility and be back to your regular activity level within six months to a year.”
I grunt in response. She makes it all sound so simple, but I know I’m in for the challenge of my life. Just the timeline is enough to make me shrink back into myself. Rehabbing the leg is the start, and I know it’s going to come with a lot of self-reflection and pain, not just physically. I don’t think you can ever be ready for something like this, for coming out of the black hole of depression unwillingly, but nothing will happen unless I get uncomfortable. Look what staying in my comfort zone has gotten me—a torn quad, no job, and new roommates.
Fuck. Another thing I don’t want to think about.
Being a park ranger is all I’ve ever wanted to do. Patrolling Sam Houston National Park is where I’ve always felt the most at home, the most like me, and it’s been months since I was able to hike even the most basic of trails.
Maybe that’s why I said fuck it and did a trail I knew would be too hard, knew it had the capability of injuring me or worse.
Did I intentionally go on one of the hardest trails to cause myself more pain? To possibly end the pain altogether?
I shake my head. Those are thoughts I don’t want to entertain right now, or possibly ever.
“What I would like to do, come Monday, is get your records and then do some base mobility exercises as a starting point. We’re not going to push you any; we’re only getting our baseline, okay?”
The way she’s talking me through this makes me feel more comfortable with someone in the medical field than I have since this whole ordeal began.
Nodding, I try to come up with something to say, but my head is a mess. It’s remembering the fall on the trail, the cabin all those months ago, and I can’t think of anything to say. I’m too blinded by the flashbacks.
“Umm, my plan was to maybe go explore Bluebell Falls, pick up some food, and then if you’ll let me, I’d love to cook dinner tonight.” She’s hopeful and entirely too thoughtful .
The urge to lash out is so fucking strong, but I refrain—barely. Being uncomfortable isn’t a reason to be an asshole. She’s done nothing to earn my wrath.
I clear my throat, hoping to stop my knee-jerk reaction to any form of help. Progress is the name of the game, after all, no matter how slow that progress is. “That’s a good plan. Dinner sounds … good, thank you.”
Dinner sounds good? Jesus, you fucking neanderthal, couldn’t think of anything more intelligent to say? No, I couldn’t, because my thoughts are flashing between anticipating pain from PT and the feeling of Tennison’s knife against my skin.
But the smile she gives me? It’s like a floodlight in a cave. It lights up the whole room, and I’d give anything to live within the light for even five minutes. For this small moment, I don’t feel broken.
My thoughts clear, and my focus turns to Roxie. I see the tiniest glimpse of old Lennox, and I grasp for him in my head. But it’s of no use because just as soon as her light shows me hope, it’s gone, and she’s standing up.
“Okay, well, let me know if there’s something in particular you want for dinner or anything you hate. Or allergies! If you have any of those, please tell me.” She cringes. “I’ll just leave my number on…” Looking around, she finds a notepad on a side table. “This.” After quickly writing her number, she leaves it on the couch arm before hustling back to her side of the house.
I deflate instantly. The warmth and sunshine have been sucked from the room, and exhaustion takes over. The depressive black hole that’s my constant friend surrounds me in a second.
“We’re going shopping!” Ivy comes bounding into the living room, wearing a T-shirt with some dogs on it—I assume from a kids’ show—pants, and a tutu over them. Her shoes are rainbow sandals, and I barely hold back my smile.
If Roxie is the light, Ivy is the sparkle.
“Oh yeah? What are you shopping for?” I ask her.
“Umm, Mommy said food and somewhere called Man Street. I don’t know what that is, but it sounds weird.” She shrugs.
“Main Street, Ives. Main.” Roxie comes out with her purse on her shoulder, laughter filling her face.
“That’s what I said,” Ivy deadpans.
My smile turns into a full-blown belly laugh. It startles me so much that I abruptly stop. Roxie looks into my eyes, and I see a flash of something dangerously close to affection, but it’s gone just as fast.
“Alright, so text me any food restrictions, and we’ll be back in a bit,” Roxie says, smiling, before she holds out her hand for Ivy and heads to the front door.
Once they’re gone, loneliness surrounds me. It’s become a strange comfort, something I’ve relied on for months, yet in a matter of hours, it doesn’t feel like the only way to live anymore.
I lose track of how long I’ve been sitting here, in the same spot I have been in for months, when I hear the ding of my phone. I see the note Roxie left and pick it up, tilting it like it holds some secret to climbing out of this hell I’m in. I see the family group chat is blowing up, but before I look at it, I add Roxie’s number in my phone. When I finally do open the group chat, I wish I hadn’t.
Willow:
A lovely new resident and her daughter just stopped by Grind Time.
Rina:
Oh yeah? Who are they?
Ledger:
Roxie and Ivy Moore. Roxie is Lennox’s new PT.
Willow:
*rubs hands together, excited*
Rina:
Is she still there? I’m heading to my truck now!
Willow:
She just left to go to the market.
Ledger:
Be nice to them; we don’t want to scare them away.
Me:
Better yet, how about we leave them alone?
Rina:
Oh, touchy, little bro. Now I definitely need to meet her.
I toss my phone to the side, sighing. I know whatever I say will just pique their interest more. As much as I love them, they are nosy assholes ninety percent of the time. Everyone talks about Mabel, Alice, and Jim as the meddlesome trio in town, but they don’t have shit on the Huttons.
My phone goes off a couple more times, but I ignore it. I don’t have the brain power to deal with them right now. Roxie threw me for too much of a loop, and I have no chance of recovering any time soon. Speaking of Roxie, if she’s at the market already, I need to text her.
Me:
I don’t have any food allergies, and I’ll eat anything.
My fingers pause before adding:
Me:
Thank you for dinner.
Roxie:
No problem at all! We should be back in a few.
That leaves me very little time to come to terms with the fact that life as it’s been is no longer how it’ll be. I told Ledger I was ready to work on things, to try, and I stand by that, but actually doing it scares the shit out of me. Throw in a far-too-sweet brunette and her mini-me, and it’s a lot of change rapidly. I have a feeling these two living with me will force me out of my self-imposed reclusive status whether I’m ready or not. But I’ll hold on to it with two hands as long as I possibly can.
With those thoughts swirling in my head, I decide to be proactive before they come back to the house. It takes me far too long to get off the couch, but by the time I have the mess from breakfast cleaned up and a pitcher of iced tea made, I’m left wondering where Roxie and Ivy are.