Chapter 17
CARTER
“You smiled,” Dr. Parks states, jaw dropped, eyes wide. It’s not even a question, more of a statement.
“Yes,” I deadpan.
Silence.
“Doctor?” Dr. Parks coughs and then takes a sip of his Earl Grey. Always fitting the perfect scholar cliché. I’m almost sure he studied in England. Never saw anyone wear that much tweed.
“Marvelous Carter, it’s marvelous. I’m… You made progress in the past weeks, but I wasn’t sure about the development it would take and this is a breakthrough.
You can be proud of yourself, Carter; all those sessions throughout the years really paid off.
You had intangible proof of it with your progress in empathizing with your friends, but this…
This is fantastic.” He claps his hand once, then takes his notebook to scribble something fast in it.
“That’s good, right, Doc?”
“Really good, Carter.” I smirk at his answer, and I swear his pupils dilate like he can’t believe it. That’s actually pretty funny. Parks is always so restrained and composed, I figured he’d stay stiff forever.
“So,” he says, joining his hands in his lap, “I think it might be time we talk about what comes next.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning, letting a few emotions slip through the thick layers of ice I usually keep in place.
“You’ve made phenomenal progress, Carter.
I believe, well, at the pace you’re going…
it looks like this relationship means something real to you.
” He pauses, measuring his words. “Have you thought about what kind of space you want her to have in your life? Where this could go?” No one needs to ask me that.
I knew the answer the second I saw her fight me in the ring.
That was the moment I realized I would do anything to tie myself to this woman for the rest of my life.
So yeah, to answer his question, I have thought this through.
“SHE’ll be there? You mean THE mom?” shouts Ash, bouncing on the stool of the bar’s club.
He’s so excited that he made his coffee spill everywhere.
It's fight night, but I’m not throwing punches tonight.
It’ll be two guys having a fuss over who should inherit a casino downtown.
Blank against another guy he lost a bet with and the last one will be Ares.
A dealer from the town over thought he could sell on our ground without his agreement, so he’ll have to settle his debt with our President if he wants to continue walking the earth with both legs.
And also ‘cause I know he likes to fight in front of Mia. They got that weird thing about her watching him fight and then going straight toward his office. Don’t know what they do in there, but all I know is that she always comes out in a different outfit and with wet hair.
Ash and I will protect her once she gets here in an hour.
Since the first fight she saw, they decided they would always drive here just the two of them.
I swear, if he wasn’t a workaholic, he'd be glued to her every second.
Those two are inseparable. Anyway, Ash and I sparred a bit in the ring before the crowd started to arrive.
Afterward, I took a quick shower and finished with a cold-as-ice stream, then grabbed a bite with Ash.
“Yeah, she’ll be there.”
“I can’t believe it, look at me, I. AM. SHOCKED.” He feigns an attack of the heart, palm on his chest as if he had taken a bullet. His red hair all disheveled as he keeps on with the drama. I notice his freckles are less apparent now that the lights are dimmed.
“Why? I did follow your advice.” I grin, and this time he stares at me, livid. Turning so fucking white, I wonder if he’s sick of something.
“Ash, you good?” I pat his shoulder, all blood leaving his face. He mutters something, but I don’t get it, “What?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Guys! GUYS!” he yells, and Tank and Shadow, who are a few feet away, cleaning their bikes in the garage area, hurry to us.
“Ash, you’re a fucking drama queen,” I groan, shaking my head.
“Guys, you’re not gonna believe me, but I swear on the Prez’s head, Carter just fucking smiled at me.”
Tanks growls. “C’mon, kid, I thought there was a fucking attack, I’m going back to my bike,” he mutters, shaking his head and slapping roughly the back of Ash’s head before turning his back on us.
Shadow narrows his eyes on me, “That true?” asking me. I sigh, staring at Ash, who’s begging me with his wide eyes to confirm it. I groan, shake my head, and grin at them.
“No way,” Shadows murmurs, running a hand into his silver and blond hair.
“Told ya, you bunch of fuckers wouldn’t listen!” Ash shouts, showing me like I’m a zoo animal he found outside of his cage.
“But- How? Why? Is it the chick?” Shadow asks, crossing his tattooed arms.
“Of course it’s the chick!” Yells Ash with enthusiasm, a smile so wide it’s reaching his ears. “AND he’s bringing her to the gathering?”
Shadow lifts a brow, “Really?” I nod.
“Well, she’s gonna be the center of the attention ‘cause everybody’s gonna wanna know what magic she used to turn you all soft and smushy,” he grins, knowing he’s trying to piss me off.
“She’s a good woman, you’ll see,” I grunt.
“Well, now I need to know the whole story, don't forget any details, I need to know everything,” says Ash, removing his cut and pulling up his black sleeves.
“Not telling you a thing, Ash. Whatever you wanna know, you’ll ask her next week.” Ash rolls his eyes dramatically and shakes his head at Shadow, “See? He’s still very much himself.” Shadows smirks in response.
“Good thing he is,” he says and pats my shoulder before leaving for his bike, his dirty, oiled rag in the back pocket. Ash winks at me and spins on his stool, jumping out of it.
“C’mon, we gotta celebrate this. Stay there, I’ll get the Skittles.
” He disappears to our lockers with a bouncy step.
I chuckle, warmth spreading in my chest. I have good friends.
Don’t know how I got this lucky, but I did.
I stare down at my palm, remembering the softness of Lana’s hand in mine yesterday.
It seems like, for once in my life, everything is falling into place.
Marvelous, as Dr. Parks would say.
Fucking Marvelous.
LANA
The melody of my ringtone vibrates in my pocket as I'm taking my first break of the day at the hospital. It’s been a crazy morning with new patients to welcome and worried family members to reassure.
I just finished my round of distributing the meds to each patient before sitting on the little plastic chair of our break room with large posters of mountains and tropical beaches.
A smile appears on my face as I wonder if Carter is the one calling me, but it quickly disappears when I notice my ex-name on the screen.
What does he want?
“Hi,” I greet in an icy tone.
“Hey, beautiful,” Ben answers casually, and I wonder if his act of being afraid of Carter was, in fact, just an act, and if nothing is about to change.
“What do you want?” I grunt, my voice cold and unfamiliar to me.
“I just wanted to make sure you’d be there Saturday morning at Nancy’s for my visiting hours.”
“I’ll drop him there like each time, why do you ask?
” Since the divorce and the way I ended our marriage, the judge decided that it would be better for Ben to visit Noah on neutral ground.
Which is why we’ve been organizing them at Nancy’s.
I usually drop Noah off, Ben arrives and takes him for a little outing to have some quality father and son time, and then they get back in the middle of the afternoon.
We do that once a month since Ben never asked for more.
I always try my best to keep it civil, but the best I can do is usually drop him, so I don’t have to see Ben.
I know Nancy is here in case anything happens.
He snaps his tongue, “Perfect. We’ll talk then.”
I frown. Why does this man always want to talk to me?
Doesn’t he understand the concept of an ex-partner?
And didn’t he learn anything from the last time he tried to trap me in my own home?
Telling him no is on the tip of my tongue, but somehow it remains there.
My fists clench and I know I’m on the precipice of giving him a piece of my mind, but as always, I don’t.
“Lana, you there, baby?”
“Don’t call me baby.” I snap instinctively, but my voice doesn’t carry as much strength as I hoped. It’s so low it almost sounds like an apology. I shake my head, appalled by myself for bending to his every want and need.
Only you can stop this. You have to stand up for yourself.
“I have to go,” I say, and hang up the call.
I place my mug in the dishwasher of our tiny kitchen and make a stop at the bathroom.
My eyes, deep, dark, and tired, stay down as I wash my hands, like I can't quite bring myself to face my own reflection. This is wrong. This is the missing piece of the puzzle. The one where I get to make the rules. I sigh and splash cold water on my face. Droplets cling to my skin like tears, though I’m anything but sad.
My blood simmers just beneath the surface.
Maybe that’s good. Maybe that’s what Carter unlocked in me that day in the woods.
I can be angry.
I have the right to be.
Grabbing a piece of paper to dry my hands, I look at it, strangely visualizing Ben’s face. Suddenly, I crush it until it’s small, insignificant, useless. And then I throw it in the bin.
Exactly, where it belongs.
“Hum,” chants Noah, closing his eyes to better enjoy the mashed potatoes I made for us tonight. It’s not much, but my son is my best supporter. Always praising my cooking, even if I keep it simple.
“Thanks, love,” I say, leaning on my right to kiss his head. “Have you thought about the costume you want for Max’s birthday?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“I want to be a dino, but not the little one, Mom. A huge dino,” he says, spreading his arms and making roaring sounds. I shake my head, chuckling, “Okay, I’m gonna see what I can do about that.”
“Perhaps your friend Carter could help you?” he asks, eating another bite, some of it smashed on his face. My lips part as I rewind in my mind the sentence he just said.
So he really likes him.
“Um, yes, why not? That could be fun,” I answer, wondering if I’m not pushing Noah’s boundaries too much.
Noah puts his fork down and stares at me, wincing. “Because Mom, don’t be sad, but you’re a girl. And girls don’t know a lot about dinos. But Carter, he’s a boy, you see? He’ll know exactly how to make it.”
I burst into laughter, “Honey, even if I’m a girl, I can still make you a killing dino, okay?
” The many little lights of our living room illuminate our home with the cosiest feel.
I even added a few fairy lights above the sofa, and looking at it just makes me smile each time.
Noah narrows his eyes into slits, doubtful.
“Okay, but it’s better if it’s Carter. Boys know about dinos mom.
” I shake my head, confused between being appalled by my four-year-old's reasoning but also overjoyed with how comfortable he is about having Carter around.
“Okay, okay, I’ll ask him.” I chuckle, running a hand in his hair.
“Can we finish the puzzle together after?” he pleads, joining his little hands, and I nod, because that’s exactly what I want to do with my son. Find the right pieces and finish this damn puzzle.
It’s about time.