Chapter 5:
A/N: Sorry this has been so long in coming, but you know, school, a job....life.
Disclaimer: The only ones I own are the ones you don't see on TV.
Jay stood just beyond view outside the sliding glass door. He could hear Susannah and Ava inside, laughing about something. A weight settled across his shoulders and his frame seemed to shrink. How long had it been since he's sat and laughed with his friends? That kind of happiness just seemed foreign and vague to him. He steeled himself with a deep breath and walked inside.
The two women fell silent the moment he passed through the doorway. It had been months, Susannah realized at that moment, since the last time she'd seen Jay willingly come inside. "Jay." One simple word managed to crack the awkward stillness that hung in the air.
"Hey Susannah, Ava." He noticed the bag at Susannah's feet. He pointed. "Coming, or going?"
"Going," she answered. "Paris for a few days."
Ava set down a fabric swatch. "No luck?"
Jay scratched his neck. "Uh no actually, quite the opposite. She's waiting for the all clear in my room."
Susuannah's jaw dropped. "You brought her HERE?" she asked, incredulous. "Jay, Ava told me she attacked you."
"Susannah she was scared. Makes everyone a little irrational."
"Irrational maybe yeah, not homicidal."
"You're blowing this way out of proportion!"
"Am I? She tried to bash your head in Jay!"
"She said she freaked and I believe her. Besides, she's got nowhere else to go."
Susannah shot him a withering look. "So you bring her here. Why not? What, now we're running a safehouse for runaways and God knows what? Jay you don't know a thing about her."
"Yeah and neither does she."
A car horn blared from outside and Susannah glanced at her watch. "Damn it. You are so lucky I have to go catch a plane right now Robertson." She glanced over to Ava. "Don't go too easy on him." She reached down for the handle of her suitcase and headed for the door.
Jay clamped his lower lip between his teeth. His eyes flicked up to Ava, who had yet to say a word. "You've got nothing to say?"
Ava didn't answer for a moment, instead studying the face of her friend. She couldn't lie to herself; the idea of housing some strange girl off the street made her nervous. But by the same token, if it meant getting Jay to come around more often it might be worth the risk. It was nice to see him at the house out of his own free will, and not in his as of late typical stupor or drunken haze. She pursed her lips, and something glimmered in her eyes he couldn't quite read. "Do you want me to hit you now, or later?"
Jay didn't exactly smile, but it was close enough. "So you're okay then?"
"Okay might be too strong a word. But Johnny's here, and we can lock the house up at night........."
"Don't go to the trouble," a soft voice said from the sliding door. "I won't stay." Ava looked toward the girl and immediately sucked in a breath. Standing with her back to the sun, even in midday, cast a soft shadow across the girl's features. She looked, in that moment, just like......... Ava's eyes snapped back to Jay. The Australian's face was taught, like he'd seen a ghost.
"No, no," Ava stumbled over the words as she tried to regain her composure. "I just meant........."
"I know," the girl nodded. "I get it. You people don't owe me anything. It was too much to even ask. I'm sorry. There's a homeless shelter not far from here. Don't think they'd ask too many questions. I'll just stay there. But Jay, I will get you your money back."
Linda turned to leave. "Wait!" Ava called after her, eyes squeezed shut. "Stay in Jay's room, it's no trouble. I may not know you, but I do know him and I trust his judgment. So stay, please."
"Thank you," Linda responded after a moment's hesitation. She shifted edgily and looked to Jay. "I'll just wait for you out on the beach." Jay nodded, eyes still locked on Ava and she headed out into the sand.
Ava made herself wait till the girl was out of earshot. "She looks like....."
"I know."
"But I mean they could have been....."
Jay cut her off again. "I know."
"Jay, tell me that's not the reason she's here."
"It's not the reason." The designer still seemed uncertain. "Really Ava, it's not." She descended the steps, coming to stand beside him, hugging his arm."
She nodded. "Okay. Tell her she can get whatever she wants from the fridge and dinner's at seven." She paused. "It's good you're here. You should come around more often. We miss you."
He carefully removed himself from Ava's grasp, choosing not to respond. "I'll come check in on her tomorrow," he said evasively. He stepped for the door, mumbling beneath his breath so Ava couldn't hear, "Sometimes I miss me too."
Jay padded out onto the beach. The breeze off the water snatched at his shirttails, sending them snapping. Linda sat in the sand, knees hugged tight against her chest. She was staring out into the water like she'd been earlier that day when he'd found her along the boardwalk. Jay sat next to her. He closed his eyes, enjoying the nearly rhythmical crashing of waves into the beach. He dug his toes deep into the warm sand, leaning back on his hands.
"Thank you," Linda said finally without looking at him. "I don't deserve your help."
Jay shrugged, bumping her shoulder with his. "Who knows?" He questioned. "Maybe you do." Linda didn't proffer a response, just went back to watching the waves, leaving them in a silence neither familiar nor awkward, but easy.
--
"Come on Bradin," the chipper voiced, pixie haired physical therapist encouraged. "You can do it! Concentrate and push against my hand. Better." She beamed. Bradin glared. Despite the fact that he was basically lying flat out on a rubber mat, he sweated heavily. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and refused to meet the woman's gaze.
'How could he push against pressure he didn't even feel?' And despite all the woman's 'good's' and 'much better's he felt little different than he had a month earlier, six months earlier. He was still a cripple, still bound to a chair he loathed. And that other life, that other Bradin, was a vague and distant memory floating worlds away.
Bradin growled, frustrated and gave up his attempts. He went limp on his back. His therapist's hand was on his knee, not that he could feel it. "Each small step is a victory," she told him. He nearly laughed in her face. Ironic choice of words really, steps. His chair was wheeled back to him and after applying the brakes, reached up and levered himself into the seat.
Bradin wiped his face with a small cloth towel and peered around the room for his aunt. She generally stayed for his sessions, puttering anxiously in the background. He spotted her near the door, standing with her back to him, talking with someone. The conversation appeared to be ending and Ava's counterpart made for the exit.
He recognized her face instantly. Callie. He sucked in a quiet breath. What was she doing talking to Ava? Why on earth had she shown up at PT? These were questions to which he had no answers, but he was damn sure going to get some.
Bradin sat pensively in the backseat of the van on the way home. Ava kept up a steady stream of idle chatter, not really expecting much of, or really any response at all. Ava had realized in the months prior that a bad session of PT usually led to a silent ride home.
"I'm just going to drop you at the house. Johnny should be home but if he's not the back door is open. I just need to pick up Derrick from a friends and I'll be back to start dinner." She pulled up to the curb. Bradin wheeled himself out onto his lift and out onto the walkway. "Oh and Bradin........." He didn't let her finish.
"Why did Callie come to my PT?" The lift slowly receded back into the confines of the van.
His aunt appeared surprised, but recovered quickly. "She came by to see how you're doing."
"And she talked to you? I don't want her there Aunt Ava."
His aunt tried desperately to calm her nephew. "She's worried about you Bradin, that's all, and she's trying to be a friend. She told me you avoided her at school today........."
"So what, you're having discussions about me now?"
"Bradin she didn't mean any harm. She just wants to see you get better, we all do."
His face was pinched, red. "Maybe I'm sick of everyone's help! Maybe I'm just tired of everyone waiting for me to magically get better. Maybe this is it Aunt Ava! Maybe this is better!" His face was trembling as he yelled.
"Bradin you can't think like that," Ava pleaded with him. "Your Physical Therapist says a positive attitude is important to recovery."
"God damn it Aunt Ava, you don't know anything about it! I've been waiting a year for better, and it hasn't gotten me anything. I was deluded to think I'd walk again, and now I think maybe I don't deserve to." He slammed the van door shut and sped off down the path, leaving Ava shocked and open mouthed at the wheel.
Fighting back tears of rage and grief, Bradin entered the house. He stopped in the middle of the living room and swiped angrily at his eyes with the back of a hand. The refrigerator door was propped open while someone rummaged inside. A voice floated over the top of the door.
"Sorry. I just grabbed some bread and peanut butter. I'll get out. Hope you don't mind." His eyes narrowed, brow furrowing. The owner of the disembodied voice stood, shutting the door with her hip. Nearly jet black hair fell around slender shoulders.
Bradin's mouth fell open and his bag slipped from his fingers. "Erika?"
Chapter 5
Sorry this took so long to come out, hope you like it and hope I get the next part out a little quicker. Please read and review.
A/N: Sorry this has been so long in coming, but you know, school, a job....life.
Disclaimer: The only ones I own are the ones you don't see on TV.
Jay stood just beyond view outside the sliding glass door. He could hear Susannah and Ava inside, laughing about something. A weight settled across his shoulders and his frame seemed to shrink. How long had it been since he's sat and laughed with his friends? That kind of happiness just seemed foreign and vague to him. He steeled himself with a deep breath and walked inside.
The two women fell silent the moment he passed through the doorway. It had been months, Susannah realized at that moment, since the last time she'd seen Jay willingly come inside. "Jay." One simple word managed to crack the awkward stillness that hung in the air.
"Hey Susannah, Ava." He noticed the bag at Susannah's feet. He pointed. "Coming, or going?"
"Going," she answered. "Paris for a few days."
Ava set down a fabric swatch. "No luck?"
Jay scratched his neck. "Uh no actually, quite the opposite. She's waiting for the all clear in my room."
Susuannah's jaw dropped. "You brought her HERE?" she asked, incredulous. "Jay, Ava told me she attacked you."
"Susannah she was scared. Makes everyone a little irrational."
"Irrational maybe yeah, not homicidal."
"You're blowing this way out of proportion!"
"Am I? She tried to bash your head in Jay!"
"She said she freaked and I believe her. Besides, she's got nowhere else to go."
Susannah shot him a withering look. "So you bring her here. Why not? What, now we're running a safehouse for runaways and God knows what? Jay you don't know a thing about her."
"Yeah and neither does she."
A car horn blared from outside and Susannah glanced at her watch. "Damn it. You are so lucky I have to go catch a plane right now Robertson." She glanced over to Ava. "Don't go too easy on him." She reached down for the handle of her suitcase and headed for the door.
Jay clamped his lower lip between his teeth. His eyes flicked up to Ava, who had yet to say a word. "You've got nothing to say?"
Ava didn't answer for a moment, instead studying the face of her friend. She couldn't lie to herself; the idea of housing some strange girl off the street made her nervous. But by the same token, if it meant getting Jay to come around more often it might be worth the risk. It was nice to see him at the house out of his own free will, and not in his as of late typical stupor or drunken haze. She pursed her lips, and something glimmered in her eyes he couldn't quite read. "Do you want me to hit you now, or later?"
Jay didn't exactly smile, but it was close enough. "So you're okay then?"
"Okay might be too strong a word. But Johnny's here, and we can lock the house up at night........."
"Don't go to the trouble," a soft voice said from the sliding door. "I won't stay." Ava looked toward the girl and immediately sucked in a breath. Standing with her back to the sun, even in midday, cast a soft shadow across the girl's features. She looked, in that moment, just like......... Ava's eyes snapped back to Jay. The Australian's face was taught, like he'd seen a ghost.
"No, no," Ava stumbled over the words as she tried to regain her composure. "I just meant........."
"I know," the girl nodded. "I get it. You people don't owe me anything. It was too much to even ask. I'm sorry. There's a homeless shelter not far from here. Don't think they'd ask too many questions. I'll just stay there. But Jay, I will get you your money back."
Linda turned to leave. "Wait!" Ava called after her, eyes squeezed shut. "Stay in Jay's room, it's no trouble. I may not know you, but I do know him and I trust his judgment. So stay, please."
"Thank you," Linda responded after a moment's hesitation. She shifted edgily and looked to Jay. "I'll just wait for you out on the beach." Jay nodded, eyes still locked on Ava and she headed out into the sand.
Ava made herself wait till the girl was out of earshot. "She looks like....."
"I know."
"But I mean they could have been....."
Jay cut her off again. "I know."
"Jay, tell me that's not the reason she's here."
"It's not the reason." The designer still seemed uncertain. "Really Ava, it's not." She descended the steps, coming to stand beside him, hugging his arm."
She nodded. "Okay. Tell her she can get whatever she wants from the fridge and dinner's at seven." She paused. "It's good you're here. You should come around more often. We miss you."
He carefully removed himself from Ava's grasp, choosing not to respond. "I'll come check in on her tomorrow," he said evasively. He stepped for the door, mumbling beneath his breath so Ava couldn't hear, "Sometimes I miss me too."
Jay padded out onto the beach. The breeze off the water snatched at his shirttails, sending them snapping. Linda sat in the sand, knees hugged tight against her chest. She was staring out into the water like she'd been earlier that day when he'd found her along the boardwalk. Jay sat next to her. He closed his eyes, enjoying the nearly rhythmical crashing of waves into the beach. He dug his toes deep into the warm sand, leaning back on his hands.
"Thank you," Linda said finally without looking at him. "I don't deserve your help."
Jay shrugged, bumping her shoulder with his. "Who knows?" He questioned. "Maybe you do." Linda didn't proffer a response, just went back to watching the waves, leaving them in a silence neither familiar nor awkward, but easy.
--
"Come on Bradin," the chipper voiced, pixie haired physical therapist encouraged. "You can do it! Concentrate and push against my hand. Better." She beamed. Bradin glared. Despite the fact that he was basically lying flat out on a rubber mat, he sweated heavily. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and refused to meet the woman's gaze.
'How could he push against pressure he didn't even feel?' And despite all the woman's 'good's' and 'much better's he felt little different than he had a month earlier, six months earlier. He was still a cripple, still bound to a chair he loathed. And that other life, that other Bradin, was a vague and distant memory floating worlds away.
Bradin growled, frustrated and gave up his attempts. He went limp on his back. His therapist's hand was on his knee, not that he could feel it. "Each small step is a victory," she told him. He nearly laughed in her face. Ironic choice of words really, steps. His chair was wheeled back to him and after applying the brakes, reached up and levered himself into the seat.
Bradin wiped his face with a small cloth towel and peered around the room for his aunt. She generally stayed for his sessions, puttering anxiously in the background. He spotted her near the door, standing with her back to him, talking with someone. The conversation appeared to be ending and Ava's counterpart made for the exit.
He recognized her face instantly. Callie. He sucked in a quiet breath. What was she doing talking to Ava? Why on earth had she shown up at PT? These were questions to which he had no answers, but he was damn sure going to get some.
Bradin sat pensively in the backseat of the van on the way home. Ava kept up a steady stream of idle chatter, not really expecting much of, or really any response at all. Ava had realized in the months prior that a bad session of PT usually led to a silent ride home.
"I'm just going to drop you at the house. Johnny should be home but if he's not the back door is open. I just need to pick up Derrick from a friends and I'll be back to start dinner." She pulled up to the curb. Bradin wheeled himself out onto his lift and out onto the walkway. "Oh and Bradin........." He didn't let her finish.
"Why did Callie come to my PT?" The lift slowly receded back into the confines of the van.
His aunt appeared surprised, but recovered quickly. "She came by to see how you're doing."
"And she talked to you? I don't want her there Aunt Ava."
His aunt tried desperately to calm her nephew. "She's worried about you Bradin, that's all, and she's trying to be a friend. She told me you avoided her at school today........."
"So what, you're having discussions about me now?"
"Bradin she didn't mean any harm. She just wants to see you get better, we all do."
His face was pinched, red. "Maybe I'm sick of everyone's help! Maybe I'm just tired of everyone waiting for me to magically get better. Maybe this is it Aunt Ava! Maybe this is better!" His face was trembling as he yelled.
"Bradin you can't think like that," Ava pleaded with him. "Your Physical Therapist says a positive attitude is important to recovery."
"God damn it Aunt Ava, you don't know anything about it! I've been waiting a year for better, and it hasn't gotten me anything. I was deluded to think I'd walk again, and now I think maybe I don't deserve to." He slammed the van door shut and sped off down the path, leaving Ava shocked and open mouthed at the wheel.
Fighting back tears of rage and grief, Bradin entered the house. He stopped in the middle of the living room and swiped angrily at his eyes with the back of a hand. The refrigerator door was propped open while someone rummaged inside. A voice floated over the top of the door.
"Sorry. I just grabbed some bread and peanut butter. I'll get out. Hope you don't mind." His eyes narrowed, brow furrowing. The owner of the disembodied voice stood, shutting the door with her hip. Nearly jet black hair fell around slender shoulders.
Bradin's mouth fell open and his bag slipped from his fingers. "Erika?"
Chapter 5
Sorry this took so long to come out, hope you like it and hope I get the next part out a little quicker. Please read and review.