Chapter 14 – Liam
14
LIAM
E llie wants to keep Lucy for the rest of the day. I assume it’s because I look as bad as I feel. As soon as I get back, I head right upstairs and fall into bed. I decide a nap is exactly what I need but my sleep is restless.
And then I’m dreaming again. “Liam, come on. We’ve got to go,” Cara is telling me. She’s stomping her foot outside my car again. “I don’t understand you. You said you wanted to go to the game.” She indignantly puts her hands on her hips and purses her lips. She’s pouting. Next, she’ll try to persuade me with a flirtatious curl of her lips and a come-hither motion with her index finger. I shake my head vigorously, fighting the internal conflict. Do I follow Cara? My heart races at the thought of letting her down but I’m determined to stop her from getting in that car.
“I don’t want to go anymore,” I tell her again. “It’s going to rain anyway. Let’s stay here and watch a movie,” I try.
“No, Liam. Melanie is waiting for us. We have to pick her up.” Cara crosses her arms and then her eyes light up. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she coos, waving me over. Dream Liam always caves to this. If only Cara could see what our life would be like if we skipped this football game.
* * *
We’re at our college graduation at Duke University. I am waiting to hear my name. Cara Cote has been called already and is sitting back in her seat, diploma in hand. “Liam Harper,” the president of the university calls me up to receive my diploma. My hand is sweaty as I try to conceal the handmade sign I have rolled up in my left hand, camouflaged by the sleeve of my gown. As soon as I shake the president’s hand, I drop down to one knee and hold up my sign. “Cara Cote, will you marry me?” And the crowd goes wild. Cara hops out of her seat and runs to me to say yes. When we kiss, the audience hoots and hollers, applauding enthusiastically. We’re on top of the world.
Then it’s our wedding day. “I now pronounce you husband and wife! Liam, you may kiss your bride,” the preacher yells.
I dip Cara backward and kiss her passionately as all our friends and family clap. Everyone’s face is a blur as we walk up the aisle holding hands, our love and excitement evident. The world is at our feet.
We’re in a dimly lit hospital room. “Come on, Cara! One more push. You got this.” And then a baby cries. The baby is placed on Cara’s chest, and we look at each other lovingly. I kiss her softly and then kiss the baby’s head. I’ve never been so in love.
We are leaving the hospital in my navy blue mustang with the green rims. There is no room for the baby’s car seat because Melanie is there too, so we put the car seat on top of the bass. And then we’re back in Lower Township heading for that four-way stop. We’re blasting Blink-182 again and singing at the top of our lungs. A baby is crying in the distance as I awaken with the sound of the crash.
I jerk awake, disoriented. I run my fingers through my hair and down my face. My eyes are wet. I must’ve been crying this time. It’s been a long time since my dreams have gotten this bad or have felt so real. It’s the first time I’ve ever clearly seen what might’ve been. I am gutted by the visions of what our life could have looked like if I hadn’t been so overconfident behind the wheel that night.
I prop myself up in bed and lean my head against the headboard. I’m not sure what to do about the recent and unwelcome return of these dreams-turned-nightmares. I thought I had a good handle on things. I am finding my groove with Lucy, hitting the gym, working regularly. The only thing that has really changed is the stress of the last few days—and my drinking habits are starting back up again. Not enough to really cause a problem, but enough that I should probably cool it a little with the after-bedtime beers.
I throw the blanket off me and walk into my master bathroom. It is one of the only rooms I have remodeled in this house and something of an oasis. Black-and-white penny tiles cover the floor, leading into a six-foot-long, black-framed glass shower with a rain head and six wall sprayers. The walls are white subway tile with white grout, and the shower floor is pebbled tile. My vanity is natural wood with black fixtures, a marble top, and a black faucet. I am truly proud of it because I did all of this after my day job, before Leah left. My plan was to do Leah’s bathroom next. I look in the black-framed mirror at my ashen expression. I turn the cold water on and splash it on my face. Then I trim my beard back to a regular five o’clock shadow and brush my teeth.
I pick up my phone to check my messages, but there are none—not even the group thread with my guy friends talking smack to each other. I click on Sophie’s name. Nothing back from her, either. I must’ve really made her angry on Friday. I contemplate sending her another one, but ultimately decide against it. I don’t know much about Sophie. Maybe she needs more time to cool off after an argument. Maybe she holds grudges. I have too much going on in my life to grovel.
I text Ellie to make sure she doesn’t mind if I head to the gym for an hour before grabbing Lucy, and she’s fine with it. When I get back, I’ll call Doc. Maybe it’s time I get back to seeing him regularly. I decide to run there to help me blow off some steam. Gradually, as I run, the post-dream sadness begins to ease.
* * *
“Hello! You’re looking better!” Ellie says as she swings open the front door to greet me. The smell of dinner is wafting down the hall and straight to my nostrils. I don’t realize how hungry I am until my stomach audibly growls. “I hope you’re staying for pot roast. Otherwise, I will be eating it for the next seven days.” I hear Lucy’s adorable sounds coming from the other room and I smile. This is as close to a Sunday family dinner as I’ll get. Ellie makes me feel cared for. And I know she cares about Lucy. I can’t imagine where I’d be without her in my life. A hell of a lot worse off, I bet.
I walk into the kitchen and pick up my little girl, snuggling her close. “Hi, Lucy girl. Thanks for letting me take a break,” I say to Ellie sincerely. “I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I woke up from a horrible nightmare about Cara.”
Ellie makes a clicking sound with her tongue as she reaches in the cabinet for some dinner plates. “You’d better call Dr. Stevens, Liam. These dreams coming back are not a good sign for you. You know how they have haunted you in the past.” She walks over to me, puts the plate in front of me, and then touches my shoulder. “You make me worry.” Her expression is grim. “I know what an adjustment the past six months have been. I haven’t exactly given you a lot of grace. But I am here for you, and I love you like a son. You know that, right?” Her clear green eyes meet mine, like she can see right through to my damaged soul.
“Yeah, yeah. I do. I love you and appreciate you too, Ellie. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” I clear my throat and wrap her in a sideways squeeze. This display of emotion is not comfortable for me, and Ellie knows it, but I guess she felt she needed to let me know.
She shifts her tone to lighten the mood. “Which is why,” she pauses and looks at me with an I-told-you-so expression, “I can tell you that you need to apologize to Sophie.” She walks over to the oven and pulls out the pot roast. Its aroma is heavenly, and my stomach growls again which makes me realize I really haven’t eaten much today.
I groan. “I mean, do I really have to talk to her? How much longer is she even going to be here? She’s already gone,” I huff, putting Lucy back in her highchair. I pull out my chair and sit down as Ellie places the pot roast in front of us. I pick up the toddler plate that Ellie took out for Lucy and start cutting up some pieces of beef, carrots, and potatoes for the little one to try. She is delighted when I place it in front of her.
“She’ll be back,” Ellie says, serving herself. “And when she comes back, you will apologize for treating her poorly. Sophie has been through a lot too. Things you wouldn’t possibly understand.” She takes a bite of her pot roast, and I know Ellie means business.
“Yes, ma’am,” I agree with a groan. We spend the rest of the meal eating in the comfort of familial silence and I count my blessings with each bite.