888
The following week was one of the hardest one's Phil had ever had. Even though his family was supportive, they all seemed to be walking on eggshells around him. The kids flitted around him, avoiding his eye and Claire barely spoke to him. They seemed to be waiting for something, waiting on pins and needles for Phil to let them know if he was okay, waiting for him to tell them what happened but Phil couldn't muster up the courage to tell them. Instead, he did what he always did to prove that he was fine; he overcompensated.
He threw himself into home improvement projects; the step needed to be fixed, they needed a new ceiling fan installed, the shed needed to be painted, the grass mowed, the garden planted. If he always was busy, if he always had something to do than he didn't have to think about what happened. He couldn't think about it, he wouldn't let himself. He drove himself with such a ferocity that by the end of the day he was too exhausted to think about anything besides sleeping, but then the nightmares would come and he'd force himself to stay awake by doing more projects; organizing the garage, putting the bookshelf in alphabetical order, vacuuming the inside of the car and upgrading the smoke detectors.
It was late Thursday night-or early Friday morning, 2:30AM to be exact when Phil felt himself jolt awake at the kitchen table to the smell of smoke and the five newly installed fire alarms blaring. He bolted up and raced to the oven, where smoke was billowing out of the closed door. Swearing loudly, he threw the door down and pulled out the severely burned blueberry muffins he had been baking with his bare hands. He swore again as the pans burned him and he dropped them on the floor with a crash. Smoke was still everywhere, the alarms were still blaring and Phil felt his whole body shaking. Why had he let himself fall asleep? How could he be so-
"Dad? What's going on?"
"PHIL! What are you doing?!"
"Is the house burning down?"
The voices of his family interrupted Phil's berating. He quickly motioned for the door.
"Everyone outside! You know the drill! Open the windows and doors. Get the smoke out. Nothing's on fire. Everything is under control." He shouted as he opened the door wide, and then pulled up the living room windows.
Claire, Luke and Haley stared at him.
"Had Dad gone insane?" Luke finally asked after a few beats of silence.
Claire sighed, "No honey. He's just working some stuff out. Go outside and wait until the smoke clears out." She answered, ushering them out of the house. Then she turned to Phil, and he expected her to be furious but then he realized that her eyes with glassy and he knew it wasn't from the smoke.
"Phil." She said softly.
"I'm fine. Everything is fine." Phil answered, not looking her in the eye. He walked past her into the kitchen, and stared picking up the burnt pieces of muffin that had scattered across the floor.
Claire followed him in the kitchen. "Phil." She said again, this time a little louder. He flinched and dropped the pieces he was holding. They fell back onto the floor, but Claire didn't notice. She was still staring at him.
"This has gone on long enough. All week I have let you be, hoping you could get better on your own, but you're not getting better. You're not fine." She said.
Phil shook his head, "I will be. I just need more time."
"This has to stop Phil, this manic overcompensating that you always do. Its too much. You don't have anything to prove to us." She said, and then she reached for him. Phil took a couple of steps backwards, away from her hand. He still didn't like people touching him, every touch reminded him of his touch and it brought back flashbacks that he couldn't stop.
Claire sighed, "You have to trust me, Phil. I'm not going to hurt you."
Then she bent down and started picking up the scattered pieces of burnt muffin. Phil knelt down and joined her. Together, they silently cleaned up the kitchen. At some point or another the fire alarms stopped, and the smoke eventually cleared out leaving behind a bitter burnt smell.
Claire sat back down on the floor, rearranging her robe she sat crossed legged and looked up at Phil. She patted the floor next to her and gave him a small smile. Phil sat down next to her, pulling his legs up to his chest and crossing his arms over them.
"So, muffins, uh?" Claire asked
Yesterday—to the delight of their children—Phil has conquered a rather difficult recipe for chocolate lava cupcakes with peanut butter frosting.
"I couldn't sleep." Phil answered
"I've noticed. You need to get some rest, Phil."
Phil shook his head, "I can't….I don't want nightmares….I can't wake up screaming, it'll scare the kids."
"I think you've scared them already with your baking." Claire said, her lips twitched with a small smile.
"Are they still outside?"
"I hope so."
They listened for signs of them, and Phil felt himself smile just a little bit as he heard Haley yell at Luke for taking her phone.
"You ready to go to bed?" Claire asked
Phil shrugged.
Claire reached out again and very slowly put her hand on his knee. This time Phil made himself not flinch away. She scooted a little closer to him, her gaze soft and warm. Slowly, very slowly she pulled him into her, resting his head on her chest. He finally gave in and wrapped his arms around her. She felt so safe, so good. He breathed in the familiar sent of his wife and felt the tension in his back leave him. She rested her head on his and breathed softly into his ear. Suddenly, Phil wasn't in the kitchen anymore; he was back in the cold drafty bowling alley with his hands pinned behind him and his face flat against the wall and his hot breath in his ear.
Phil jerked back from Claire, scuttling on his hand across the kitchen away from her.
"Stop." He murmured
His back hit the cabinet under the sink. No, no he could not take this away from him. He could not take away the only thing that made sense in his life.
More flashes, more pain hit him like lighting bolts. He felt it; the cold grip on his wrists, the hot breathe in his ear, the stale salty smell of his breath.
"Stop!" he shouted again. He pulled his hands up and hit his head with his palms. He had to make the memories stop. Why wouldn't they stop? Why wouldn't they just go away?
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" he shouted, hitting his head with each word. The pain helped, it distracted him from the flashes.
"Stop! Stop-."
"Phil!"
Hands grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from his head. Phil struggled against them. He had to keep going, he had to make them stop.
"Phil. Stop. Look at me." Claire said, gripping his wrists hard and sticking her face in his. Phil had no other choice but to look up at her. Their eyes met for the first time that week and Phil forced himself not to look away from those beautiful blue-comforting eyes.
"It won't stop. I can't make it stop. It won't. He won't." Phil garbled, trying to explain to her what he was feeling. He tried to jerk his hands away but she held on tight.
"It's okay, Phil. You're going to be okay. We'll make it stop, I promise." She said and Phil held onto her voice like a lifeline.
"We will make it stop. No one is going to hurt you. He is long gone." She said.
Phil nodded. He could feel is heart beating in his chest. She held onto him for a few seconds longer, "Let's get you to bed. I'm going to let go now, okay?" she told him.
He nodded again and she let go of his wrists.
"Can you stand?" she asked
He nodded. She backed away to give him some room, and he used the counter to pull himself up.
"Good, good Phil. Can you walk?"
He nodded and took a shaky step forward. She walked slowly, leading him up the stairs and into their bedroom. She folded down the covers for him on his side and the minute he saw his pillow he felt a wave of exhaustion hit him. How long was it since he had slept there? 2 days? 3 days? He couldn't keep track anymore. He felt himself sit down, and then he lay down on the pillow. Claire pulled the blankets up over him.
"Get some rest, Phil. You need it." She told him.
He nodded. His eyes felt very heavy, and suddenly sleep seemed like the best thing in the world.
"I love you." He murmured, his words slurred.
"I love you too, honey." She answered.
"Don't leave me…."
"I won't, I promise."
He felt the bed intent, and Claire started humming softly. Phil felt himself drifting off and soon he was asleep.
888
Thank you for reading, as always please keep your comments respectful.