Beyond Shattered Dreams: (Sequel to Just Below the Surface), page 4
Merrick rolls his eyes.
“You have made my day,” I insist. “Totally made my day. I won’t be able to sleep tonight, I just know I won’t,” I gush.
Merrick stands up. I hear him mumble something about this being his cue to leave, and he disappears from the screen.
We spend the next twenty minutes talking about baby names, clothes, accessories, names again, and all the activities we can do with a little girl.
After a while, I sigh. “Thanks, Billie. I needed this.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “You okay?”
I shrug. “Nicole invited me over. Just not sure how it’s gonna be.”
“Ah.” Billie gives me a knowing look. “You’ve only ever been over there with him, haven’t you?”
I nod.
“I think it will be good for both of you, actually. I mean, his family is missing him like you are, and staying connected to each other might help.”
“You don’t think it’ll be… weird?”
Billie chuckles. “Maybe at first. But you need this.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.”
I grin.
“And I want to hear all about it,” Billie says, trying to sound stern. “Don’t forget to call me when you’re home.”
“Oh, I won’t.”
A slow smile spreads across Billie’s face and she says, “Remember when it was you?”
“What?” I laugh. “When what was me?”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, you know. When I was calling you with all the updates in my life, and you were demanding all the details. It feels good to be on this side for once.”
“This is true,” I say. “But—” I hold up a finger, “you did call me today with news of my new girl cousin. So, in a way, you’re still reporting to me.”
Billie thinks for a moment and then nods. “That’s fair.”
As usual, we end our call on a note of laughter.
* * *
I’m really trying to pay attention to the pastor’s message. I truly am. But I can’t stop thinking about my visit later. Will it be weird? Will we spend the entire time talking about Prescott? Will we cry?
Unintentionally, my mind is still wandering when I hear the dismissal prayer. A few after-service conversations later, I’m headed to my car.
I sit for a few moments, deciding whether to eat before I go. I’m not hungry, just nervous. A glance at the clock tells me I have about an hour and fifteen minutes. It’s only a forty-five-minute drive, so I’ve got half an hour to kill.
I should get something nice for the family. That’s it, that’s what I’ll do. I rack my brain, thinking of something small and thoughtful. I could stop at the local supermarket and get some fresh-baked cookies. I could swing by the flower shop, or I could… then it hits me.
Perfect.
I pull out of the church parking lot and head down the road to Old Things, New Things. I arrive in less than five minutes, thanks to the light Sunday traffic. Letting myself in the back door with my key, I make my way to the waiting room. There.
In the corner is a large box with some smaller items inside that I’ve been working on restoring, polishing, and painting. I carefully dig through the box until I find it.
It’s a wooden carving no more than six inches high of a soldier from the forties. He’s got his arms open, ready to embrace what appears to be his wife, who’s holding a baby. Next to her is a preschooler holding a sign that says Welcome Home. It’s worn and not in very great shape, but it’s special. I was planning on keeping it for myself, but I know that Nicole and her family will love it.
I grab some blue tissue paper from under the counter and wrap it up loosely. I’ll talk to Al in the morning about a fair price and pay for it then.
I lock the door behind me and climb back into my car. Ten minutes to spare. I decide to leave now so I don’t have to rush.
With a long drive ahead of me, I prepare myself to be alone with my thoughts.
* * *
When I pull into the long driveway my stomach flutters. I remember the first time Prescott brought me here. I was so nervous to have dinner with his family, but they were so friendly and inviting, the nerves were soon forgotten. I had one awkward moment when Will made a joke about Prescott and Billie’s shooting star relationship. In his words, it was “bright, exciting, and over before you knew it.”
But the awkwardness dissolved when Penny swatted his arm and we all had a good laugh about it. Then they expressed how truly happy they were for Billie and Merrick, especially Merrick’s restored faith, and I relaxed once again.
Now, I feel that same nervousness—times ten. I park my car and take my time getting out. It’s five minutes to one. I grab the wrapped gift from the passenger seat and close the door. When I hit the key fob and lock my door, it beeps. In a matter of seconds, Nicole whips open the front door and steps outside, closing it behind her. She runs down the porch steps and throws her arms around my neck.
“Anne! I’ve missed you!” She continues to squeeze me.
I laugh and squeeze back. “I’ve missed you, too.” Trying to pull away, I say, “I’ve got something for you.”
She finally lets me go and steps back. “You do? What?”
I hold up the tissue-papered gift and say, “I’ll give it to you inside.”
Nicole smiles. But her smile immediately fades when the front door opens again, Penny holding onto the door handle as if to brace herself. She’s looking at me as if she’s just come across a bad accident.
“Nicole,” she nearly whispers. “Oh, Nicole…”
Nicole runs to meet her mother on the porch and grabs her hand. “Mom. Mom, please don’t be mad. I invited her. I just couldn’t…”
Her voice trails off in my ears as my brain focuses on one thing: don’t be mad. Mad? Why would she be mad that Nicole invited me to see them? My face burns at the realization that Penny didn’t expect me, yet here I stand in their driveway.
I focus back on mother and daughter, both looking at me now. Penny with concern, Nicole with uncertainty.
“Anne,” Penny starts, and I don’t like the tone of her voice. Something is very wrong. “Let me explain. It’s… it’s nice to see you, it really is. But…” she hesitates, looking from me to Nicole and back to me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I feel so incredibly awkward now, I just start to back away, toward my car. I just want to leave.
“No!” Nicole quickly walks to me and grabs my arm. “No, Mom. She needs to be here.”
I look up at Penny. “What’s going on?”
Penny comes down the steps to stand by us and lowers her voice. “You really shouldn’t be here, Anne.”
I open my mouth to protest, or ask why, or something, when she holds up her hand to stop me.
“But…” She sighs in defeat. Then she grabs me and hugs me. Then… I hear her start to cry.
Oh God, please don’t let him be dead…
After hugging me tightly, she pulls away, her eyes full of tears. Grabbing my hand, she leads me up the porch and into the house.
Then, standing in the foyer of the home just inside the door, she manages to choke out, “Please don’t be angry with us.”
I’m more confused than ever until she leads me into the living room.
Where I see Prescott sitting in a chair by the fireplace.
The first thing I notice is the hard, angry look on his face.
The second thing I notice is that he’s missing his left arm.
Chapter 6
“Prescott…” I manage to say, and instinctively go to take a step forward.
Grabbing my arm, Penny blurts out, “Anne, don’t get—”
But she’s cut off when Prescott stands, both surprise and anger crossing his face, and says coldly, “Get her out of here.” The tone of his voice adds to my confusion.
I feel like I’ve been slapped across the face. What should be the happiest moment in my life right now is quickly turning into a nightmare.
“Prescott!” I say through the tears I can’t stop. “I haven’t heard from you, I thought you were missing, or…” I choke back a sob.
“I mean it, Penny,” Prescott nearly growls, ignoring my words as if I hadn’t even spoken. “Get her out of here!”
I step back and nearly stumble in my shock. What is going on?
I feel Penny’s arm wrap around mine, steadying me and leading me to the family room on the other side of the house.
She sits me in a chair like a child and kneels next to me. “Anne. I’m so sorry. We didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”
I blink, still trying to process what just happened.
Suddenly, Nicole is on my other side, crying now, too. “I didn’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “I thought it would be good for him to see you, but I think I messed up.” She sniffs and wipes her cheek.
“Ugh, this whole thing is a mess,” Penny says. She stands and begins to pace.
“Please,” I plead. “Someone, please explain.” I stand. “I need to go talk to him, maybe if I—” I start to get up from the chair. right now I’m desperate to speak to him again. I need to see his face again.
“No.” Penny lays a hand on my arm, stilling me. “Let’s go somewhere. We need to give him space. Let’s get some coffee or tea at the diner.”
I want nothing more than to scream at her that that’s the worst possible idea that I can think of. The man I love is in the next room but I’m being pulled away from him… again. But instead, I numbly nod and follow her out of the house.
I climb into the passenger seat of Penny’s black Explorer and shut the door. Nicole gets into the back, and none of us speak during the drive to the diner. Them, probably because they have no idea what to say to me. Me, because if I were to open my mouth right now, I wouldn’t want to be held responsible for what comes out.
Jesus, help me get these emotions under control. Please. Be with me right now.
We walk into the small local diner and seat ourselves, and within a few seconds a waitress greets us. I order a hot tea and Penny and Nicole both order coffee. When the waitress walks away, Penny sighs from across the booth.
“Well,” she says, “I guess I’d better start at the beginning.”
“Please,” I say, and my voice sounds small. At least I didn’t scream at her. That’s a plus.
She swallows, like she gathering the courage to start. I know this can’t be easy for her. Finally she begins. “Like you, we had been exchanging letters with Prescott. And like you, we stopped receiving them from him a few months ago.”
“We were so worried,” Nicole chimes in, just wanting to be part of this conversation. I can tell she’s wanting me to know they’ve felt my pain.
I nod in understanding, and Penny continues.
“We were praying the letters had just been lost or something. We just continued to pray for his safety while waiting and trying to trust God.” She blows out a soft breath. “But, when we realized you had stopped receiving letters as well… we began to worry.” She glances up at me, and then away again quickly. “Then, two weeks ago, we got a phone call.”
“It was him,” I state instead of ask.
She nods. “He needed to be picked up from the VA hospital. Since he had given up the lease on his apartment when he left, he asked to stay with us, since we have the room.”
The waitress arrives with our drinks and asks if we need anything else. We tell her no, and she walks away.
I squeeze a honey packet into my tea and stir it, trying to ignore my slightly shaky hands. “Were you shocked? Did you freak out? I would’ve freaked out,” I say, my eyes widening. “I mean, none of us hear from him, and all of the sudden…” my voice trails off.
Penny nods. “Oh, yes. I went crazy over the phone, demanding answers, crying, thanking God he was alive. He wouldn’t say anything other than we needed to come get him.”
“Mom couldn’t even drive, she was so worked up,” Nicole says.
“Yeah. Will had to drive us. And when we got there…” Tears appear in Penny’s eyes.
“His arm,” I say softly.
Penny nods, unable to speak.
“He wouldn’t talk about it at first,” Nicole says. “He just kept saying, ‘Get me home.’ So, we took him home, no questions asked.”
“No one spoke until Nicole pulled out her phone to text you. Prescott was sitting in the back with her, saw what she was doing, and just started yelling. It was like a stranger was with us.” Penny looks off to the side, as if recalling the moment—and the hurt—perfectly.
“He made us promise we wouldn’t call or text you. He said he refused to subject you to what he’d become,” Nicole says sadly.
“Why?” I ask. “Why wouldn’t he want to see me?” I can’t hide the pain in my voice, so I don’t try to.
“I honestly think it was more about not wanting you seeing him.”
I shake my head. “Still, it wasn’t fair of him to want to keep me in the dark,” I say defensively. “I have worried myself sick over that man.” I try to blink away the fresh tears. Anger, shock, hurt… I’m feeling it all now.
Penny reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “Prescott isn’t himself right now, Anne. We all need to be patient—hard as it may be—and let him work through this.”
I nod, not because I agree, but because I feel I have no other choice. “Can you tell me how he lost it? His arm, I mean.” It’s hard for me to say out loud.
Penny and Nicole glance at each other, then Penny says, “I really think that’s something he’ll want to explain himself.”
I give a hollow laugh and say, “Then I’m not likely to hear an explanation soon, I guess.”
Penny smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, Anne. I just don’t want to overstep in this situation.”
“I understand.” But I’m still hurt.
I put my head in my hands and shut my eyes. This is overwhelming and I don’t know what to think. Prescott and I were getting close—a real relationship. How could he not come to me with this?
Penny takes a sip of her coffee and shakes her head. “This has been a very difficult two weeks for us,” she says sadly. “He just came home… different.”
I nod, not knowing what to say.
Nicole shrugs and says, “I thought seeing you would help. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “You did nothing wrong, Nicole. I’m glad I know now.” I turn to Penny. “I need to talk to him again. When we get back to your house, I want to talk to him.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Penny’s eyebrows raise. “I mean, after you leave, I’ll be stuck with a furious Prescott.”
“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” I say. “But he needs to know I’m here for him.”
Penny sighs but agrees. I know she feels just as lost as I do.
As I finish my tea, half of me listens to Penny and Nicole try to lighten the mood by making small talk, and the other half thinks about all the things I’ll say when I see him.
* * *
Rapunzel. My favorite fairy tale. I have an old, worn-out book that Billie gave me one year for Christmas when we were about nine. I would read it over and over until I had memorized it. Then I’d take the top sheet from my bed, pull my hair into a ponytail, and tie the corner of the sheet around it. I’d stand on the headboard of my bed, pretending it was a tower. Then I’d toss the sheet down.
Whenever Billie came to stay the night, I’d perform Rapunzel’s story for her—word for word from the book. She’d laugh and clap and beg me to do it again which, of course, I did with joy. Sometimes Billie would play my evil captor, but most of the time she was happy just being the audience.
I’ve always loved fairy tales. I’ve always been a romantic. I’ve always believed in happy endings.
That’s why Prescott’s harsh words to me are ripping my heart out.
As Penny drives, I stare out the window. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him, how he’ll react, or even how I’ll react back to him. I’m caught in an endless cycle of worry.
I’m still daydreaming when Penny puts the car in park and kills the engine. I feel her hand on mine and she says, “Are you ready?”
I shake my head no and give a half smile.
“I’ll stay close,” she assures me. “If you need me at all…”
“I know. Thank you.” I squeeze her hand.
When we get to the door, I let Penny and Nicole go in first. I follow them in but stay near the door, unsure of where Prescott is. When we hear him close a cupboard door in the kitchen, she nods for me to go ahead. Reluctantly, I head that way.
Prescott has the fridge open and his back is to me. I take a moment to really look at him. He’s wearing a Detroit Tigers T-shirt, and I see an ace bandage wrapped around his left arm, which now ends just above the elbow. His hair needs cutting, and I remember from earlier that he’s also way past a five o’clock shadow.
Suddenly, he shuts the fridge, turns around with a Gatorade in his hand, and sees me.
“No.” he says.
“You don’t even know—”
“No. I don’t want to talk.”
“Prescott,” I whisper, tears forming in my eyes.
He turns to pour the lemon drink into a glass on the counter and doesn’t answer.
I swallow hard and continue. “I… I know you don’t want to see me right now, but—”
“You’re right. I don’t.” His voice is even and cool.
Hurt stabs into my chest. My chin quivers a bit as I try not to cry. “I just want you to know I’m here for you. I’ve missed you,” I add softly.
“Noted.” He turns to me and stares coldly.
“Prescott,” I say in disbelief. “You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t pretend things are the same, Anne.”
I don’t recognize this man anymore. The way he says my name… it doesn’t sound right.
“I’m not stupid,” I can’t help but say, clenching my fists. “I know things are… different. But you’re still the man I love.”
Prescott steps near me, still holding his glass. He makes a deliberate gesture with his amputated arm and says with disgust, “You are so naïve.”
“You have made my day,” I insist. “Totally made my day. I won’t be able to sleep tonight, I just know I won’t,” I gush.
Merrick stands up. I hear him mumble something about this being his cue to leave, and he disappears from the screen.
We spend the next twenty minutes talking about baby names, clothes, accessories, names again, and all the activities we can do with a little girl.
After a while, I sigh. “Thanks, Billie. I needed this.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “You okay?”
I shrug. “Nicole invited me over. Just not sure how it’s gonna be.”
“Ah.” Billie gives me a knowing look. “You’ve only ever been over there with him, haven’t you?”
I nod.
“I think it will be good for both of you, actually. I mean, his family is missing him like you are, and staying connected to each other might help.”
“You don’t think it’ll be… weird?”
Billie chuckles. “Maybe at first. But you need this.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.”
I grin.
“And I want to hear all about it,” Billie says, trying to sound stern. “Don’t forget to call me when you’re home.”
“Oh, I won’t.”
A slow smile spreads across Billie’s face and she says, “Remember when it was you?”
“What?” I laugh. “When what was me?”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, you know. When I was calling you with all the updates in my life, and you were demanding all the details. It feels good to be on this side for once.”
“This is true,” I say. “But—” I hold up a finger, “you did call me today with news of my new girl cousin. So, in a way, you’re still reporting to me.”
Billie thinks for a moment and then nods. “That’s fair.”
As usual, we end our call on a note of laughter.
* * *
I’m really trying to pay attention to the pastor’s message. I truly am. But I can’t stop thinking about my visit later. Will it be weird? Will we spend the entire time talking about Prescott? Will we cry?
Unintentionally, my mind is still wandering when I hear the dismissal prayer. A few after-service conversations later, I’m headed to my car.
I sit for a few moments, deciding whether to eat before I go. I’m not hungry, just nervous. A glance at the clock tells me I have about an hour and fifteen minutes. It’s only a forty-five-minute drive, so I’ve got half an hour to kill.
I should get something nice for the family. That’s it, that’s what I’ll do. I rack my brain, thinking of something small and thoughtful. I could stop at the local supermarket and get some fresh-baked cookies. I could swing by the flower shop, or I could… then it hits me.
Perfect.
I pull out of the church parking lot and head down the road to Old Things, New Things. I arrive in less than five minutes, thanks to the light Sunday traffic. Letting myself in the back door with my key, I make my way to the waiting room. There.
In the corner is a large box with some smaller items inside that I’ve been working on restoring, polishing, and painting. I carefully dig through the box until I find it.
It’s a wooden carving no more than six inches high of a soldier from the forties. He’s got his arms open, ready to embrace what appears to be his wife, who’s holding a baby. Next to her is a preschooler holding a sign that says Welcome Home. It’s worn and not in very great shape, but it’s special. I was planning on keeping it for myself, but I know that Nicole and her family will love it.
I grab some blue tissue paper from under the counter and wrap it up loosely. I’ll talk to Al in the morning about a fair price and pay for it then.
I lock the door behind me and climb back into my car. Ten minutes to spare. I decide to leave now so I don’t have to rush.
With a long drive ahead of me, I prepare myself to be alone with my thoughts.
* * *
When I pull into the long driveway my stomach flutters. I remember the first time Prescott brought me here. I was so nervous to have dinner with his family, but they were so friendly and inviting, the nerves were soon forgotten. I had one awkward moment when Will made a joke about Prescott and Billie’s shooting star relationship. In his words, it was “bright, exciting, and over before you knew it.”
But the awkwardness dissolved when Penny swatted his arm and we all had a good laugh about it. Then they expressed how truly happy they were for Billie and Merrick, especially Merrick’s restored faith, and I relaxed once again.
Now, I feel that same nervousness—times ten. I park my car and take my time getting out. It’s five minutes to one. I grab the wrapped gift from the passenger seat and close the door. When I hit the key fob and lock my door, it beeps. In a matter of seconds, Nicole whips open the front door and steps outside, closing it behind her. She runs down the porch steps and throws her arms around my neck.
“Anne! I’ve missed you!” She continues to squeeze me.
I laugh and squeeze back. “I’ve missed you, too.” Trying to pull away, I say, “I’ve got something for you.”
She finally lets me go and steps back. “You do? What?”
I hold up the tissue-papered gift and say, “I’ll give it to you inside.”
Nicole smiles. But her smile immediately fades when the front door opens again, Penny holding onto the door handle as if to brace herself. She’s looking at me as if she’s just come across a bad accident.
“Nicole,” she nearly whispers. “Oh, Nicole…”
Nicole runs to meet her mother on the porch and grabs her hand. “Mom. Mom, please don’t be mad. I invited her. I just couldn’t…”
Her voice trails off in my ears as my brain focuses on one thing: don’t be mad. Mad? Why would she be mad that Nicole invited me to see them? My face burns at the realization that Penny didn’t expect me, yet here I stand in their driveway.
I focus back on mother and daughter, both looking at me now. Penny with concern, Nicole with uncertainty.
“Anne,” Penny starts, and I don’t like the tone of her voice. Something is very wrong. “Let me explain. It’s… it’s nice to see you, it really is. But…” she hesitates, looking from me to Nicole and back to me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I feel so incredibly awkward now, I just start to back away, toward my car. I just want to leave.
“No!” Nicole quickly walks to me and grabs my arm. “No, Mom. She needs to be here.”
I look up at Penny. “What’s going on?”
Penny comes down the steps to stand by us and lowers her voice. “You really shouldn’t be here, Anne.”
I open my mouth to protest, or ask why, or something, when she holds up her hand to stop me.
“But…” She sighs in defeat. Then she grabs me and hugs me. Then… I hear her start to cry.
Oh God, please don’t let him be dead…
After hugging me tightly, she pulls away, her eyes full of tears. Grabbing my hand, she leads me up the porch and into the house.
Then, standing in the foyer of the home just inside the door, she manages to choke out, “Please don’t be angry with us.”
I’m more confused than ever until she leads me into the living room.
Where I see Prescott sitting in a chair by the fireplace.
The first thing I notice is the hard, angry look on his face.
The second thing I notice is that he’s missing his left arm.
Chapter 6
“Prescott…” I manage to say, and instinctively go to take a step forward.
Grabbing my arm, Penny blurts out, “Anne, don’t get—”
But she’s cut off when Prescott stands, both surprise and anger crossing his face, and says coldly, “Get her out of here.” The tone of his voice adds to my confusion.
I feel like I’ve been slapped across the face. What should be the happiest moment in my life right now is quickly turning into a nightmare.
“Prescott!” I say through the tears I can’t stop. “I haven’t heard from you, I thought you were missing, or…” I choke back a sob.
“I mean it, Penny,” Prescott nearly growls, ignoring my words as if I hadn’t even spoken. “Get her out of here!”
I step back and nearly stumble in my shock. What is going on?
I feel Penny’s arm wrap around mine, steadying me and leading me to the family room on the other side of the house.
She sits me in a chair like a child and kneels next to me. “Anne. I’m so sorry. We didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”
I blink, still trying to process what just happened.
Suddenly, Nicole is on my other side, crying now, too. “I didn’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “I thought it would be good for him to see you, but I think I messed up.” She sniffs and wipes her cheek.
“Ugh, this whole thing is a mess,” Penny says. She stands and begins to pace.
“Please,” I plead. “Someone, please explain.” I stand. “I need to go talk to him, maybe if I—” I start to get up from the chair. right now I’m desperate to speak to him again. I need to see his face again.
“No.” Penny lays a hand on my arm, stilling me. “Let’s go somewhere. We need to give him space. Let’s get some coffee or tea at the diner.”
I want nothing more than to scream at her that that’s the worst possible idea that I can think of. The man I love is in the next room but I’m being pulled away from him… again. But instead, I numbly nod and follow her out of the house.
I climb into the passenger seat of Penny’s black Explorer and shut the door. Nicole gets into the back, and none of us speak during the drive to the diner. Them, probably because they have no idea what to say to me. Me, because if I were to open my mouth right now, I wouldn’t want to be held responsible for what comes out.
Jesus, help me get these emotions under control. Please. Be with me right now.
We walk into the small local diner and seat ourselves, and within a few seconds a waitress greets us. I order a hot tea and Penny and Nicole both order coffee. When the waitress walks away, Penny sighs from across the booth.
“Well,” she says, “I guess I’d better start at the beginning.”
“Please,” I say, and my voice sounds small. At least I didn’t scream at her. That’s a plus.
She swallows, like she gathering the courage to start. I know this can’t be easy for her. Finally she begins. “Like you, we had been exchanging letters with Prescott. And like you, we stopped receiving them from him a few months ago.”
“We were so worried,” Nicole chimes in, just wanting to be part of this conversation. I can tell she’s wanting me to know they’ve felt my pain.
I nod in understanding, and Penny continues.
“We were praying the letters had just been lost or something. We just continued to pray for his safety while waiting and trying to trust God.” She blows out a soft breath. “But, when we realized you had stopped receiving letters as well… we began to worry.” She glances up at me, and then away again quickly. “Then, two weeks ago, we got a phone call.”
“It was him,” I state instead of ask.
She nods. “He needed to be picked up from the VA hospital. Since he had given up the lease on his apartment when he left, he asked to stay with us, since we have the room.”
The waitress arrives with our drinks and asks if we need anything else. We tell her no, and she walks away.
I squeeze a honey packet into my tea and stir it, trying to ignore my slightly shaky hands. “Were you shocked? Did you freak out? I would’ve freaked out,” I say, my eyes widening. “I mean, none of us hear from him, and all of the sudden…” my voice trails off.
Penny nods. “Oh, yes. I went crazy over the phone, demanding answers, crying, thanking God he was alive. He wouldn’t say anything other than we needed to come get him.”
“Mom couldn’t even drive, she was so worked up,” Nicole says.
“Yeah. Will had to drive us. And when we got there…” Tears appear in Penny’s eyes.
“His arm,” I say softly.
Penny nods, unable to speak.
“He wouldn’t talk about it at first,” Nicole says. “He just kept saying, ‘Get me home.’ So, we took him home, no questions asked.”
“No one spoke until Nicole pulled out her phone to text you. Prescott was sitting in the back with her, saw what she was doing, and just started yelling. It was like a stranger was with us.” Penny looks off to the side, as if recalling the moment—and the hurt—perfectly.
“He made us promise we wouldn’t call or text you. He said he refused to subject you to what he’d become,” Nicole says sadly.
“Why?” I ask. “Why wouldn’t he want to see me?” I can’t hide the pain in my voice, so I don’t try to.
“I honestly think it was more about not wanting you seeing him.”
I shake my head. “Still, it wasn’t fair of him to want to keep me in the dark,” I say defensively. “I have worried myself sick over that man.” I try to blink away the fresh tears. Anger, shock, hurt… I’m feeling it all now.
Penny reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “Prescott isn’t himself right now, Anne. We all need to be patient—hard as it may be—and let him work through this.”
I nod, not because I agree, but because I feel I have no other choice. “Can you tell me how he lost it? His arm, I mean.” It’s hard for me to say out loud.
Penny and Nicole glance at each other, then Penny says, “I really think that’s something he’ll want to explain himself.”
I give a hollow laugh and say, “Then I’m not likely to hear an explanation soon, I guess.”
Penny smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, Anne. I just don’t want to overstep in this situation.”
“I understand.” But I’m still hurt.
I put my head in my hands and shut my eyes. This is overwhelming and I don’t know what to think. Prescott and I were getting close—a real relationship. How could he not come to me with this?
Penny takes a sip of her coffee and shakes her head. “This has been a very difficult two weeks for us,” she says sadly. “He just came home… different.”
I nod, not knowing what to say.
Nicole shrugs and says, “I thought seeing you would help. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “You did nothing wrong, Nicole. I’m glad I know now.” I turn to Penny. “I need to talk to him again. When we get back to your house, I want to talk to him.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Penny’s eyebrows raise. “I mean, after you leave, I’ll be stuck with a furious Prescott.”
“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” I say. “But he needs to know I’m here for him.”
Penny sighs but agrees. I know she feels just as lost as I do.
As I finish my tea, half of me listens to Penny and Nicole try to lighten the mood by making small talk, and the other half thinks about all the things I’ll say when I see him.
* * *
Rapunzel. My favorite fairy tale. I have an old, worn-out book that Billie gave me one year for Christmas when we were about nine. I would read it over and over until I had memorized it. Then I’d take the top sheet from my bed, pull my hair into a ponytail, and tie the corner of the sheet around it. I’d stand on the headboard of my bed, pretending it was a tower. Then I’d toss the sheet down.
Whenever Billie came to stay the night, I’d perform Rapunzel’s story for her—word for word from the book. She’d laugh and clap and beg me to do it again which, of course, I did with joy. Sometimes Billie would play my evil captor, but most of the time she was happy just being the audience.
I’ve always loved fairy tales. I’ve always been a romantic. I’ve always believed in happy endings.
That’s why Prescott’s harsh words to me are ripping my heart out.
As Penny drives, I stare out the window. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him, how he’ll react, or even how I’ll react back to him. I’m caught in an endless cycle of worry.
I’m still daydreaming when Penny puts the car in park and kills the engine. I feel her hand on mine and she says, “Are you ready?”
I shake my head no and give a half smile.
“I’ll stay close,” she assures me. “If you need me at all…”
“I know. Thank you.” I squeeze her hand.
When we get to the door, I let Penny and Nicole go in first. I follow them in but stay near the door, unsure of where Prescott is. When we hear him close a cupboard door in the kitchen, she nods for me to go ahead. Reluctantly, I head that way.
Prescott has the fridge open and his back is to me. I take a moment to really look at him. He’s wearing a Detroit Tigers T-shirt, and I see an ace bandage wrapped around his left arm, which now ends just above the elbow. His hair needs cutting, and I remember from earlier that he’s also way past a five o’clock shadow.
Suddenly, he shuts the fridge, turns around with a Gatorade in his hand, and sees me.
“No.” he says.
“You don’t even know—”
“No. I don’t want to talk.”
“Prescott,” I whisper, tears forming in my eyes.
He turns to pour the lemon drink into a glass on the counter and doesn’t answer.
I swallow hard and continue. “I… I know you don’t want to see me right now, but—”
“You’re right. I don’t.” His voice is even and cool.
Hurt stabs into my chest. My chin quivers a bit as I try not to cry. “I just want you to know I’m here for you. I’ve missed you,” I add softly.
“Noted.” He turns to me and stares coldly.
“Prescott,” I say in disbelief. “You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t pretend things are the same, Anne.”
I don’t recognize this man anymore. The way he says my name… it doesn’t sound right.
“I’m not stupid,” I can’t help but say, clenching my fists. “I know things are… different. But you’re still the man I love.”
Prescott steps near me, still holding his glass. He makes a deliberate gesture with his amputated arm and says with disgust, “You are so naïve.”
