Chapter 3
“C an you grab the salad while I get the cake?” I looked over at Lucas as he pulled into Monica’s freshly-plowed driveway a couple of days later. I’d bet money that Trevor had been here to do this for her. Lucas nodded, squeezing my thigh, and smiling over at me.
Nat was already squealing and leaping out of the back of his huge, black truck. She had gone through roughly thirty-six hours of fevers and body aches. She’d only been sick twice more and had been happy to get back to school to close out the semester before Christmas break.
“She’s gonna break her freaking neck.” Lucas griped, rushing after her. I laughed, shaking my head at both of them.
We usually met at Monica’s house, or her and the girls came to our house, for dinner once a week.
I jumped down from my side of the truck as Lucas started towards the house with the salad, yelling at Nat to slow down. Opening the back door to my side I reached in to grab the cake I’d made that afternoon. Lucas was going to grill some chicken that Monica had marinating. He was in a hurry to get to the patio and a cold beer despite the winter weather.
I knew he still struggled coming over here and not having his best friend to share a beer and hold down the grill with. Nat and Lexi usually ended up out in the backyard with him instead, showing off their cartwheels or volleyball moves. With the snowfall I was positive there would be some kind mischief.
The girls were more intuitive to our feelings and emotions than we often gave them credit for and they could tell Lucas missed Paul and provided distractions for him. I grabbed the cake and shut the door as Lucas disappeared into the house.
Monica was standing in the doorway waiting on me as I walked around the back of the vehicle. I smiled and waved at her. I was watching my steps as the snow and ice on the ground were slippery when they froze over again in the evenings. I was a klutz without the hazardous conditions.
Just as I cleared the back corner of the truck to start up the sidewalk a shot rang out over the neighborhood and I didn’t even think. The cake upended from my hands and landed, chocolate strewn across the pristine snow. My knees hit the ground, provided a slight cushion with the powder, as I covered my head with my arms. My heart felt like it was trying to crawl out of my throat as I gave a small scream.
My entire body was frozen and the blood was rushing in my ears as my brain rapidly fired information through my head. We were in a suburban neighborhood in Reading, Pennsylvania. Who would be shooting at us? Fight or flight be damned, I was frozen in fear.
I was in a memory six months earlier, fighting and screaming to get to Paul. He was shot in front of me and bleeding out. “Tell my girls I love them, Becks. Tell them for me.”
I thought I was crying, I knew I was hyperventilating, but it was so cold I couldn’t tell. I heard voices yelling faintly. The blood rushing in my ears wouldn’t let me focus on much for long.
“Becks,” a gentle voice said.
Monica’s soft hands touching my arms and pulling me up gently. I met my best friend’s eyes, reality crashing back in around me.
“It was a truck backfiring, hon.”
She was speaking softly, like she was dealing with a frightened animal. Her eyes were crinkled behind her glasses in worry and she had to be freezing. She’d kneeled in front of me in the snow in her leggings and sweatshirt, barefoot and messy ponytail.
“Becks?” Lucas’ gruff voice came from above us as he ran up. “Shit,” he had his large hand under my arm and one under Monica’s helping us up. Once he made sure Monica was steady, his gaze swung solely to me. His gray eyes taking me in. I was still trembling so hard I felt faint.
“Deep breaths with me, baby girl,” he said, softly and coaching, like my therapist had shown him.
“What’s going on?” Monica asked softly, behind him, “How long has this been happening?”
“We’ll talk in the house,” Lucas replied, guiding us both inside. Leaving the chocolate cake and its pan discarded in the snow, forgotten for the moment.
As he settled me on Monica’s plush, comfy couch, she draped a blanket over me. Lucas knelt in front of me, trying to meet my gaze, his large hands rubbing my thighs as my breaths calmed.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Monica demanded, getting frustrated with us both.
“Becks has still been struggling with everything that happened,” Lucas explained softly. His gray eyes still meeting mine, rubbing my arms, trying to warm and soothe me, “She’s been seeing a therapist weekly to deal with the trauma from the relationship with Clark, running for so long, and the kidnapping. She’s been doing better. This was out of the blue. Her anxiety has been worse lately.”
“God,” Monica whispered, sitting beside me and drawing me to her. I still felt numb, weak, and embarrassed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked tearfully.
I shook my head, at a loss for words or explanation. Here she sat taking care of me when it was her that had lost her husband in a tragedy.
“She didn’t want to worry you. You’re still grieving too,” said Lucas, gruffer now, frustrated himself because he’d tried to get me to talk to her.
“I told her she should. She needs support and she knows she has it. Stubborn, independent woman.”
I glared at him and took a deep, shaky breath.
“I don’t know. Things have been worse this month again.” My voice came out frailer than usual, unlike how I typically spoke. “My therapist actually…” I broke off, realizing I hadn’t even shared this with Lucas yet because I hadn’t wanted to worry him.
His eyes narrowed on me and so did my best friend’s.
“Tell us,” She demanded, crossing her arms in front of her.
“She said the therapy has helped. Talking it out, and it definitely has.” I continued, their shapes blurring as my eyes filled with tears. I hated admitting weakness and defeat and this was the equivalent of that to me. It was like I was still giving Clark power over me.
What if it was too much for Lucas finally? The months of nightmares, flashbacks, and PTSD.
“Becks. I’d hope you know by now that nothing you can say would ever change my feelings for you. I’m all in. I’m here, baby. I’m never going anywhere. You’ve dealt with a lot of trauma. Abuse, running, being alone, then being kidnapped, and killing two people, even though it was in self defense. Sweetheart…You’re allowed to need help.” His large hand rested on my face, thumb brushing some tears that were falling
Monica was nodding frantically beside him and tears were rolling off her face too. Both of our tears, falling into our laps.
“She thinks I need medication. For the attacks, and to get better sleep. I haven’t been sleeping…” I whispered, “Especially when you’re on night shift.”
Lucas’ brows came together, “Becks…” he sighed, like I had broken his heart. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Mon was sniffling beside me.
“Would you stop being so freakishly strong?” She demanded, abruptly.
My eyes swung to hers. We were both sobbing messes.
“There’s no shame in therapy. In medication. I’ve been taking something for anxiety for years. You need to take care of yourself and let us help you. You’re not alone anymore. You’re not alone, Becks.”
“I just don’t know what the breaking point is going to be!” I blurted out. “When am I going to be too much? When will I have finally taken too much from all of you?”
Lucas' jaw tightened, clenching his teeth.
“Never.” He promised. “That’s what a real family, and real relationships look like, Rebecca. I know Monica feels the same way. That’s not how this friend group operates. Never has, and never will, sweetheart.”
Monica was nodding emphatically.
“Becks, none of us could ever expect you to get over everything immediately. No one can do that. If you did, we’d be worried. And I honestly kind of have been. You’re always taking care of everyone else. Let us help. Paul wouldn’t have wanted this. We knew Paul. Paul loved you because you loved his best friend and brother. And he loved you because you loved me.”
I was crying again. A snotty mess as Monica and I fell into each other’s arms in a hug.
“Alright then. I’m gonna let you two talk. I’ll start the grill and check on the girls. But we’re talking about this later, Rebecca.” He stated this softly, but firmly.
I nodded, wiping the tears from my cheeks onto my shirt’s sleeves.
He leaned down, kissing my forehead, his short beard scratching my skin. He felt like home and I didn’t know how I’d ever survived without him. I breathed in his scent before he stepped away, grounding myself.
As he left the room, Monica squeezed my hand, “Talk to me.” She pleaded softly. “Really talk. Don’t just tell me what you think is safe for me to hear.”
“I just don’t know, Mon,” I answered “I truly didn’t do this to hurt anyone. I’ve had it under control and things have been good again. It's just...I think my anxiety is off the charts because of learning to adjust my life. Living with Lucas. Having friends. Sharing Nat. Dealing with everything. I’m still processing. It’s amazing Lucas talked me into seeing a therapist.”
Monica sighed, pulling her legs up under her to sit back against the couch gazing at me.
“And the therapy is helping?”
I nodded, picking at the blanket anxiously.
“It is. It’s just been bad lately. I’ve been worried about Lucas. He’s been taking a lot of night shifts lately. And… he's been on the phone a lot. He won’t tell me who he’s talking to. I know he’d never…”
Monica’s eyebrows drew in. “He wouldn’t cheat on you, Becks. Lucas adores you and that little girl. He has been the happiest I’ve ever seen him outside of having lost Paul.”
I nodded in acknowledgment of that, staring at my fingers pulling on the loose threads.
“I know,” I said. “It’s just weird. He’s usually so open and not so secretive. He hated the night shift and being away from us…” I trailed off shrugging, “I can’t sleep when he’s gone. I feel like such a baby. I lived alone for years and now I’m this reliant mess.”
“Maybe they’ve needed him to pick up some slack. Night shift pays more and it is his first Christmas with a significant other and kiddo.” She pushed my arm gently.
I tilted my head. “We told each other no grand gestures. I don’t need anything.” I argued.
Monica snorted a laugh and raised her eyebrows.
“Whatever. That man has something planned I bet. Stop worrying. Communicate. Try the sleep medication at least, Becks. We want you to be okay. Maybe Lucas could put an alarm system in if he’s going to continue working nights regularly.”
I sighed and nodded.
Shrieking from outside made us both look over towards the kitchen as Nat and Lexi ran in covered in snow and dripping wet.
“Uncle Lucas cheats!” Shrieked Monica’s youngest shaking her red hair and sending drops of melted snow all over the kitchen counter.
Nat was giggling hysterically.
“Dad got us good!” She squealed, her blue eyes sparkling.
Every time I heard her refer to Lucas as Dad my heart grew a couple of sizes like the Grinch, I swear.
“You two, take your shoes off right there and get upstairs and dry off. Nat, surely Lexi has something you can wear or you’ve left something here at some point,” laughed Monica. “You both just got over being sick! That man.”
I laughed and my best friend’s eyes met my own in relief at the sound.
“Do what Monica says, girls,” I shook my head. “I wonder if Lucas looks just as bad?” I questioned. “Think he’s even paying attention to the grill?”
Monica laughed and got up, walking into the hall to the linen closet. Grabbing two towels she walked over to start wiping the kitchen floor.
“I know you love this weather but I cannot wait for spring!” She exclaimed. “Everything is cold and wet and just yuck.”
I stood to walk over to the stove.
“I’m gonna make some hot cocoa for everyone. I know it’s before dinner but apparently we have some frozen popsicles for family members right now.”
Screaming erupted from upstairs and Lacey, Monica’s oldest, yelled at the two younger ones.
“THAT’S COLD!”
Monica grimaced at me and headed for the stairs, “I’m off to save our young ones from the monster!” She claimed, heading up the stairs.
I nodded, continuing to throw ingredients into the pot on the stove to make the cocoa. I took a deep breath and let the movements relax me further.
I had finally stopped shaking and the movement of something I’d done hundreds of times before was relaxing me. Grabbing some mugs from the cabinet, I smiled as I listened to Monica yelling at the three teenagers upstairs.