Chapter 6 #2
It couldn’t be connected to me if that was the case. I just didn’t see how that was possible. But something else… with work or his family or something.
I worried about it for another half hour until I started to work myself up into a panic. When I started to sweat and get chills at the same time, I knew I had to do something.
I knew rationally that every minor thing that went wrong in the world didn’t necessarily imply a trauma, but my mind still functioned that way. In this case, the only way to deal with it was ask.
I stared at my phone for a minute. It had been an hour, so he should be home by now unless he’d stopped somewhere. I started to call but changed my mind. I tapped out a text instead.
Then I changed my mind and deleted it. Then started over. I reworded it four times before I finally hit send.
I’m sorry to keep asking, but I’m getting really worried about it now. Are you sure everything is all right?
I waited, my heart racing ridiculously. I wondered if I’d ever get back to the point where minor things didn’t feel like such a big deal to me.
I waited for a chirped reply for two minutes. Nothing.
I waited five more minutes. Still nothing.
I made myself get up and get ready for bed even though it was a little early. I could watch a movie or something in bed, and maybe that would distract me.
I was just pulling on my pajamas when my phone rang with a call.
I jumped and fumbled as I checked the screen and connected the call. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey. I’m really sorry, Diana. Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks for calling. I’m really glad you called.”
“You sound upset.”
“I’m not… I mean, it’s no big deal.” I felt like an absolute fool, so I just told him the truth. “You know how I get sometimes. I get all worked up over nothing. I was just getting all anxious about what might have happened today to… to....”
“To make me act like such an ass.”
“No! No. Just I could tell something was really bothering you, and you wouldn’t tell me what it was.”
“I know. I’m really sorry.”
I hesitated, not sure whether he was going to tell me now. When he didn’t say anything more, I asked, “Were you still driving?”
“No. I was in the shower and didn’t hear the text.”
“Oh. I was just getting in bed. You should go to bed early too.”
“I am.”
I heard him moving around and thought maybe he was actually getting in bed like I was. He let out a long sigh that was almost a groan.
“I’m sorry I ruined dinner,” he said at last, his voice slightly hoarse. “Especially after you’d taken all the time and effort to make it.”
“I don’t care about that, Gideon. But can’t you please tell me what happened today? Was it work?”
“Yeah,” he said after a long pause. “It was just a really bad day.”
I rolled over on my side and positioned the phone more comfortably. “Can you tell me what happened?” He didn’t answer right away, so I added, “I don’t need details. I just want to know what you’re going through.”
There was a longer pause, and I could somehow tell he was working himself up to telling me, working through whatever was holding him back.
“It was just…,” he began at last. Then started again, “It was a crime scene. It was part of one of the cases I’m working on, so I went to visit it this afternoon. ”
“It was bad?”
“Yeah. It was bad. It was children.”
“Oh. Oh, God.”
“It was… It’s always worse when they’re kids and this was… really bad.”
I could hear the ache in his voice, and it made me ache too. “What happened?”
“I’m not going to put those pictures in your head, Diana. If I told you, you’d see it, and I’m not going to do that to you.”
“But you had to see it.”
“Yeah. You get detached to a certain extent when you do this long enough, but I don’t know how anyone detaches from that. When I close my eyes, I still see it.”
I knew all about how the pictures, the memories, the demons came when you closed your eyes. “I’m really sorry, Gideon. I’m really sorry.” I was feeling so much for him that my voice broke.
I heard him sigh. “Now you’re upset too, and I didn’t want to do that.”
“No. I mean, I feel bad for you, but I’m glad you told me. I don’t want you to have to keep things from me.”
“I know. But I don’t want to bring anything else dark into your life, even indirectly.”
I took a moment to think so I could articulate the next thing clearly and gently.
“I can understand that, and I appreciate the feeling. But it actually hurts me more to be closed out, to be treated like I’m not an adult who can handle things that come up in life.
I know I’m having trouble with… I mean, I know I’ve got wounds that are still open, but I think I’m doing better. ”
“You are doing better. I don’t know how you do as well as you do.”
I thought that must be an exaggeration, but it was nice of him to say.
I didn’t let it distract me from my main point though.
“You don’t have to tell me every ugly detail of your job, but if something really hurts you, if something really gets to you the way it did today, then I hope you’ll tell me.
I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to help, but at least I can be there, the way you’ve been for me. ”
It took a while before he answered, and I didn’t know what he was doing or thinking or working through on the other end of the line. But he finally said gruffly, “Yeah. Yeah.”
I was pretty sure that meant that he understood and that he would try, which made me feel better. He still felt bad though, and I didn’t know what I should say to make him feel better.
When I was in bad shape, it sometimes helped when I could think about something else, something more normal. So I said in a different tone, “I was just about to watch this British comedy.”
“Which one?” he asked, sounding more like himself.
So we turned to the same movie and chatted casually, and after a while I was convinced he was starting to feel better, which made me feel better too.
When there was silence on the phone for about five minutes, I asked, “Are you asleep?”
“No. I thought maybe you were.”
“No. Not yet. But I’m getting tired.”
“Me too.”
“We should hang up so you can get some sleep.”
“Don’t hang up,” he said. “We don’t have to talk. But don’t hang up.”
“Okay.”
We didn’t talk after that. I kept the phone near my ear, and I could occasionally hear him moving around in his bed or breathing. I suppose he heard the same from me.
We’d done the same thing one other night when I was in the center. That time, I’d needed it. This time, it felt like he needed it too.
I eventually dozed off, but I came back to consciousness after not too long. I tried to drag myself awake and figure out what had pulled me out of sleep.
Then I realized I thought I’d heard my name.
I was completely disoriented, but the sound hadn’t scared me for some reason. I listened and heard what sounded like a muffled grunt.
Then I remembered the phone, which was evidently still connected to the call. “Gideon?” I asked softly.
He didn’t respond, so he must have been asleep. I listened and heard him making another sound, maybe a grunt or a mumbled word. There was a rustling noise, like he was rolling around in bed.
He must be dreaming. I listened to see if it was a nightmare. If it was, I’d try to wake him up. But his sounds eventually faded, so whatever the dream was must have ended.
People dreamed. Not everyone’s nightmares were traumatic the way mine were. He was probably fine.
I clicked off the phone, since my battery was about to die, and rolled over, trying to go to sleep.
I hoped Gideon was sleeping well and the dreams weren’t disturbing him.
I’d been asleep when I first started to hear him, so I must have just imagined him saying my name.
* * *
He came over the next day, and we hung out in the afternoon, eating lunch and the cupcakes and then mostly being lazy. He still looked tired, and I was always tired.
I was reading, and he was watching sports on TV. We’d been sitting together, with me leaning against him and his arm around me. We’d been sitting like that for a while now, ever since that night he found me on the elliptical, so it felt cozy, natural, really nice.
But it wasn’t the best position for reading, so I kept readjusting. Finally, I must have been annoying Gideon with all my shuffling because he just moved me so that my head was in his lap and my legs were stretched out on the couch.
It was a little weird at first, but this was Gideon, so it was fine. I read very happily for a while, and then I just fell asleep.
It was a very nice nap. Long enough to feel like I was really sleeping, and I didn’t dream at all. I woke up slowly, stretching myself with leisurely pleasure.
When I opened my eyes, I was aware of Gideon, so I smiled up at him even though I wasn’t awake enough to really focus.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I guess I fell asleep.”
“I guess so.” He sounded a little strange, but I was so groggy everything would have sounded strange.
I realized my head was still in his lap. “Sorry to sleep all over you. Your legs didn’t go to sleep, did they?”
“No. Maybe a little.” His hands were on my head now, and his voice definitely sounded strange. “Here. I need to get up.” He moved my head.
I tried to help him, but my body didn’t want to move, and I kind of fumbled around. I heard him give a grunt, so I tried to get it together and sit up.
Finally he gave me a push—not a hard one—and heaved himself to his feet with his groan.
“Sorry,” I called as he limped across the room toward the bathroom. “I hate it when that happens. Are both your legs asleep? Maybe try to walk it off.”
He gave a grunt that must have been affirmative and closed the bathroom door.
Now, just so it’s clear, I’m neither na?ve nor an idiot. But I was so closed off to certain kinds of possibilities that they never even entered my mind as conscious thoughts.
I sighed and stretch out again on the couch. I’d had a very nice nap, but Gideon had obviously not been very comfortable on the couch with me that way.
I’d have to do better and think more about him.
* * *