Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Deanna
“ I don’t know what to do,” I say, staring into the camera on my phone. “I can’t afford the emotional damage if this is a mistake. My kids sure as hell can’t afford it. I feel selfish for even thinking about it!”
“I hear you, Deanna. I hear that you’re worried about what’s going to happen to you and your kids if it doesn’t work out and if this man isn’t what he seems.”
I nod. “In a nutshell, yeah.”
On the other end of the telehealth visit, my therapist nods thoughtfully. “Have you given any thought to what happens if he is what he seems? If it doesn’t all fall apart?”
I feel a flush creeping up my neck. Because, of course, I haven’t considered that. Why would I with my track record? “I’m afraid to think about that, Michelle. I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll start feeling hopeful. And nothing hurts as bad as hopes that get trampled on.”
“Is that what you want for your children? A life where they’re afraid to hope for things?”
Instantly I’m shaking my head. “No! God, no. I want them to be hopeful. I want them to believe that there are better things in the world for them than what they’ve had so far!”
“Then you have to make a choice, Deanna. Because children, to a degree, will believe what we tell them. But only if it’s supported by what we show them.”
“You think I should go out with him,” I say, a little accusingly.
“No, Deanna. I think you need to decide if you want to go out with him without that decision being made from fear and the lingering effects of trauma,” she says.
Damn. I love my therapist. Like, I really love her. But that is a very bitter pill to swallow. If I continue living this way—terrified to open myself up to anything—what am I teaching Malcolm? What am I teaching Addison?
“I’ll think about it,” I tell her. “Really think about it. The good and the bad.”
She just nods. “Alright. I’ll look forward to hearing an update from you next week. In the meantime, remember your deep breathing exercises. Especially if the nightmares wake you up. The mindfulness exercises… and, Deanna, please be cautious. Be observant and aware of your surroundings. I know your ex-husband is in jail again, but we both know he won’t be forever.”
I shiver at that. Yeah. I’m only too well aware that Kyle won’t be behind bars for long. “I will. Thanks, Michelle.”
I click the button to end the call, then go through the different screens to book and confirm my session for the following week. When that’s done, I get up and go into the house. I was sitting on the back terrace of my apartment, watching Addison play through the sliding glass doors. She’s got her Barbies singing and dancing along to a Taylor Swift song. I can’t help but smile.
“Hey, Addie… can I ask you a question?”
She looks back at me. “Yes, Mama.”
“If a nice man asked me on a date, should I go?”
She leaves her dolls and walks over to me, her face far too serious for a little girl so young. “Are you sure he’s a nice man?”
I shrug. “No one can ever really know that for sure—not without taking a chance. But I think he is. I can ask a few people who know him better than I do to be sure, before I agree.”
She thinks about it for a moment, her little head cocked to the side. Then she nods. “You should ask. You can’t ever be too careful.”
My God, she sounds like a traumatized adult. And I fucking did that to her. “You’re right. You can’t.”
“But if everyone else says he’s nice, then you should go, Mama. You can dress up pretty and go somewhere nice… like they do on TV.”
Out of the mouths of babes.
I give her a quick hug and a kiss on the top of her head. “Go play, baby. I’m going to start supper. Spaghetti, okay?”
“Garlic bread?”
I laugh. “I can probably come up with some. I’ll never have to worry about you and vampires.”
“Vampires aren’t real, Mama!”
No. But monsters are. We’ve both seen enough of those.
—-
Hours later, the dinner dishes are done and put away. Addie’s had a bath and is reading a book in bed before going to sleep. Malcolm is in his room playing a video game, wearing headphones and talking way too loudly to his gaming buddies. Normal. For just a minute, my life seems normal. Like any other mom with two kids.
Slipping into my room, I pull my phone out and scroll till I find the number I want. The call is answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Dee. Everything okay?”
“It’s fine, Lizzie,” I tell her. I haven’t had friends for a very long time. That was something that Kyle made sure of during our marriage. But Lizzie wouldn’t let me pull away completely, no matter what. The fact that she’d even consider being my friend after what Kyle did to Troy—well, I’m beyond grateful to have her in my life. “I just had to ask someone about this and you’re the first person I thought of.”
She laughs. “Alright, now I’m curious. Spill the beans, Deanna.”
“Well… what do you know about Luke Hartford?”
“As in the rookie?” she asks, clearly shocked.
“Yeah. He gave me his number a while back and… I think maybe I want to give him a call. But I trust my judgement about as much as I trust a dry-rotted rope bridge.”
She laughs. “You can trust your judgement about him. He’s a good one, Dee. I swear. And hot as fuck!”
In the background I hear Troy’s deep voice, then Lizzie starts to laugh. “I gotta go soothe Troy’s wounded ego… Call the man, Deanna. Do not sleep on this!”
When the call ends, I look at my phone for a minute. I’m not brave enough to call. So I send a text.
D: I’ve been thinking about it and I’d like to go to dinner with you. If you’re still interested.
There are no dots. No hesitation.
L: When?
Lizzie
I look back at Troy, wide eyed and slack jawed with shock. “Luke Hartford asked Deanna Stevens—no, Deanna Leighton—out!”
Troy just nods. “I figured. He and Malcolm were pretty deep in conversation at the gym the other day. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but it sure as hell wasn’t basketball.”
I throw one of the pillows off the couch at him. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know,” he says with a shrug. “Just suspected. He’s a good guy. You think she’s ready for that?”
“I think that woman needs to get laid by a man who’s not a selfish bastard. You tell him if he doesn’t treat her right, I’m coming for him. You hear me, Troy James? I will fuck him up.”
He laughs at me. “I’m not helping you threaten an officer of the law, Lizzie. But if you’ll get your sweet little ass to the bedroom, I’ll do my damnedest to distract you.”
I’m off the couch in a flash. There are some things that man will never have to ask for twice.