Half to Death (12 page)

I made myself some dinner and ate in front of the TV. I even made Jade a plate and kept it warm in case she was hungry. If not, it’d be my lunch for the next day. She arrived a little after nine.

Guy came out of the kennel then, and I sat back with a smile as they enjoyed their reunion. Jade sat Indian style on the floor, and Guy crawled all over her lap bumping his face against hers. She laughed like a child and reveled in his feline affection.

“Thank you so much, Sloan. My stomach was in knots when I realized I wasn’t going to be able to leave work. I hated the thought of him spending the night up there wondering why I had abandoned him.”

“I was happy to do it, and I’m happy you asked. Are you hungry?”

Jade looked up and smiled. “I’m always hungry.”

“Well, you’re in luck because I cooked up one of those low-fat casseroles that was in the handout you gave me.” I stood and stretched. “What would you like to drink? Milk, water, or juice?”

“Milk would be great. Can I help with anything?”

“Nope. Enjoy your cat while I get it together.”

I spooned a healthy pile onto Jade’s plate, then I poured her a tall glass of milk. It felt good to do this for her. Aside from Momma Donahue and Miranda, I’d never really cooked for anyone. It made me feel domesticated, a strange feeling I decided I liked.

“Are you going to eat, too?” Jade asked as she walked into the kitchen.

“No, I’ve already eaten, but I’ll keep you company.” I set her plate and glass on the table and poured myself a glass of juice. Jade was waiting, her food untouched, until I sat down. Then she went at it like a woman who hadn’t eaten in days.

“I should be the one feeding you for what you’ve done.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Do you like Chinese?”

“Love it.” That was kind of a lie. I only marginally liked Chinese food because I couldn’t figure out what the hell most of it was.

“Would you like to have dinner with me Saturday night?”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Yes.”

She blushed a little and went back to her meal. After she finished, she insisted on washing her dishes and my juice glass. We argued playfully as she dried them and replaced everything in the cabinet. I wanted the evening to last and was disappointed when she said, “I better go. We both have to get up early in the morning.”

I watched as she tucked Guy in the kennel and set it by the door. She stood up straight and smiled. My touch the other night must’ve changed something in the dynamic of our friendship. She took it as permission to bypass my germaphobe barrier, and she hugged me tightly.

Images of women flashed through my mind. Associated with each face that passed was the overwhelming feeling of being used by each one. I felt her resignation that the dalliances she experienced were the only affection she was worthy to receive. And then I saw myself and felt her excitement, her hope that I might be different. When she released me, I staggered back and fell onto the couch. She looked at me in shock and reached out to touch me.

“Don’t,” I nearly shouted and climbed over the back of the couch to avoid her. The devastation on her face tore my heart in two.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding hurt and confused. She turned abruptly, yanked the door open, and bent to pick up the kennel.

“Jade, wait!” I moved toward her and stopped short. “Please let me explain.”

I watched as she straightened slowly, her face flushed and pained. “What’s so wrong with me?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing. But there’s something wrong with me, and I need to tell you about it. Please sit down and hear me out for a minute.” She closed the door and turned slowly. I backed up to my chair and sat. “Please sit…I think you’re going to need to.”

She sat on the edge of the couch and planted her hands on either side of her like she was poised to slide into a pool, but the water was too cold. “Sloan, are you…ill? Do you have something termina—”

“I’m not sick.” I watched as she sagged slightly in relief. She wouldn’t look at me, and I was biting my knuckle until I realized how bad it hurt. “I don’t know how to explain this, how much you’ll believe, but I swear I’m not going to lie to you.”

She nodded and waited.

“You know I’ve been struggling with a change since my accident, you’ve asked me about it.”

She nodded again, and I noticed that she slid back a couple of inches on the couch. She was preparing herself for the long story.

“When I touch someone…I see things.” Her gaze darted to mine and away quickly. “I feel things, too. I see…their memories as if I were living them myself, and I feel their emotions.” I sat silent, waiting for her reaction.

“Like the Stephen King book where the guy saw the future when he touched people?” Her voice sounded odd and distant.

“Sort of, but I see memories and feel emotion. I can’t see a person’s future.”

She looked majorly disappointed. “You promised you wouldn’t lie to me,” she said accusingly. “Did I misjudge you? Are you straight?”

“No,” I said confused. “No, I’m not.”

“Then why does it gross you out so bad to touch me?” She stood. “Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” There was no anger in her voice, just resignation.

“I saw the night that your boss tried to force you to have drinks…or whatever with him. I felt the mud sucking at your shoes. The angry tears you wiped away when you had to walk home.”

Jade froze. Her eyes were huge, and even though what I said shocked her, I could tell she was trying to figure out how I knew.

“I saw…felt you talking to Lauren. How you felt when you decided you wouldn’t call her anymore. You knew she was having an affair with you, and you believed the lie as long as you could. Just now when you hugged me, I saw the faces of all the women you thought of and how you felt used, and you…hoped I might be different. I am—”

“Stop!” she yelled. She took a deep breath and held up her hand. “Just stop for a minute.”

I couldn’t. “Jade, that’s why I didn’t touch you. Why I avoided you touching me. I felt like I was invading your privacy.”

“I asked you to stop.” Her voice trembled. She sat slowly on the edge of the couch again. She didn’t appear to want to, but her legs seemed to give out. “When the guy dropped a weight on my foot…you touched me.” Her fingers were tapping her leg like she was counting in her head. My heart felt like it stalled in my chest. “All this time…you knew.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“For what?” she said angrily. “For seeing how pathetic I really am?” Tears streamed out of her eyes.

I got out of my chair and walked toward her, wanting to take her into my arms so bad it physically hurt. When she realized what I intended, her eyes went round and she jumped up. “Were you going to touch me again? Haven’t you seen enough?” Her voice broke. “Why were you even going to go out with me?”

I stood stock-still with my arms limply at my side. “I really like you. I want to get to know you.”

Jade shook her head like she was trying to wake from a bad dream. “How could you?” She sounded so wounded.

“I won’t use you like the others. I—” She gasped as the gravity of it all seemed to hit her. She backed away, tripped over the kennel, and fell into the doorjamb. I moved toward her.

“Stop!” She held her hands up after she righted herself. “Don’t touch me again.” She grabbed the kennel. “I don’t want to see you again. If you come to the gym, I’ll quit.”

I watched her run down the walk with Guy in his kennel, climb into her truck, and speed away. In a matter of minutes, I’d crushed her hope, and she’d crushed mine.

Chapter 11

I didn’t open the store next day. I knew people would see the “closed” sign and maybe come back later. I didn’t care. I slept on and off, never more than an hour. I lay in bed in that dream-like state from exhaustion. I was hurting in ways I never imagined, and I knew Jade was, too. If Miranda was right and what I felt was the precursor to love, I wondered why anyone would seek such a thing.

I had just drifted into merciful sleep when I heard the bedroom door open. Wordlessly, Miranda crawled into bed next to me, carefully keeping her distance. “You told her,” she said softly.

“She hates me.” My voice sounded dull, lacking emotion. “She told me she never wants to see me again. She’ll quit the gym if I go back there.”

“I’m so sorry, Sloan.”

“I don’t want to hear any ‘pick yourself up by your bootstraps’ speeches right now.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Miranda said in the darkness. I could just make out her silhouette. “You need your time to grieve.”

“Why do you trust Marty?”

Miranda was silent for a minute or two. “I couldn’t help it.”

The concept seemed foreign to me then. I was more willing to trust someone to pull me from a burning building or a cliff’s edge but never with my feelings. I had no idea how Miranda could trust Marty with her vulnerabilities, reveal her innermost secrets, and trust that they’d be accepted and cherished. Miranda had been the only one I trusted, but it wasn’t the same way I wanted to trust in Jade.

“I know she’s out there hurting, and I’m the cause. I don’t know her phone number. Every time she called, it was from the gym, and I have no idea where she lives. I can’t even go to her and beg her to forgive me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She’s a runner. She admitted to living a lot of places. Every time she gets hurt, she pulls up stakes and starts somewhere else. What if she runs, Miranda? I know I’ll never see her again.”

Miranda didn’t say anything. I knew she couldn’t. If she were to be honest, she’d have to say, “Let her go.” I couldn’t.

“I wish I could hold you,” Miranda said. She was close enough for me to feel her breath on my face.

“I wish you could, too. I’m too weak to fight my brain, and we both know what will happen.”

“So what? Get lost in my memories for a while. Maybe it’ll put you to sleep. You already know all my stories.” I rolled onto her shoulder, and as her arms went around me, I began to live vicariously through Miranda. I felt her deep sorrow for me as I watched her memories unfold before my eyes.

*******

A week went by, and I tearfully begged Miranda to go work out at the gym to make sure Jade was still there. She stayed gone for an hour and returned to me. “She’s still there.” I stared at her, awaiting anything she could tell me. “She looks bad. Dark circles are under her eyes. I don’t know if it makes you feel any better to know she looks just like you.”

“Did she talk to you?”

“No.” Miranda looked away. “When she first saw me come in, I think she was looking for you. She stopped staring, I guess, when she figured out it was just me.”

“Should I take that as a good sign? Maybe she wanted to see me?”

Miranda plopped down on the couch and propped her feet on the table. “I don’t know. She might’ve wanted to see you, or she might’ve been ready to bolt if she did.”

I opened my mouth to say something but sighed instead.

“Are you about to ask me if I would talk to her?”

“Yes,” I said, exasperated.

“I thought about it tonight, but there was no way I could do it privately.”

“She usually leaves work around nine. Drives a blue beat-up Ford truck.”

Miranda groaned and looked at her watch. “If you have a cookie or something sweet, I’ll do it.” Six Oreos later, Miranda walked out the door pissed that I had them and had kept them hidden. I waited and paced. Thirty minutes passed, and she still wasn’t back. I took that as a good sign. An hour passed, even better, but the waiting was driving me insane. I saw headlights on the street and ripped the door open only to watch an unfamiliar car pass. I paced some more. Two hours had passed since Miranda had left, and I debated sending a text message. I put it off for thirty more minutes, then I heard a car door slam.

I was standing in the doorway when Miranda came up the steps. “Did you talk to her?”

I stepped back inside when I noticed that Miranda’s eyes were red and tear-stained. “Sit down, Sloan,” she said somberly.

“I don’t think I can.”

“Please.” Miranda pointed to the couch, and reluctantly, I sat. She sank down on the other end. “That girl cried her eyes out on my shoulder. She’s as pitiful as you are.”

I swallowed hard and ached inside.

“She admitted that she really likes you. She hoped to get to know you and thought something good might develop.”

I smiled and felt so much relief that I thought I would cry again if I could, then it struck me that Miranda was talking in the past tense.

“I had to swear on my mother’s grave that you did not tell me anything of what you saw about her before she would talk to me. I think that ratcheted her trust up a little bit.” Miranda rubbed her hands on her gym pants. “Right now, she’s grappling with the shock of what you told her. We talked a lot about that. I think it made her feel a bit better to know how much of a struggle this has been for you. That it wasn’t something you took lightly.”

“You told her I felt bad about prying?”

“Many times.” Miranda looked over at me. “She feels terribly exposed. You saw things that she’d never admitted to anyone. She didn’t go into detail, but I gathered that her past has been extremely painful.”

Jade’s memories flashed through my mind on fast forward. “Yeah, she’s had a rough time of it.”

“She…needs some time.” Miranda smiled weakly. “I don’t want to get your hopes up. She said we’ll talk again soon.”

“Meaning you and her, not me.”

Miranda reached for me and stopped. “Yeah. But that’s a start. She isn’t running, so that tells me that eventually she might be willing to give you a chance, which is why it’s so important for us to continue your mental workouts.”

I took it for it what it was—a chance and a glimmer of hope. “Okay then, go home and get some rest. We’ll hit it hard tomorrow.”

Chapter 12

Of course, Jade and I did not go on our planned date. Miranda and I spent weeks working on my brain. I had good days and bad. The bad ones came when I was tired and couldn’t focus. I was on a roller coaster of highs and lows. The day Miranda came into the store with good news, I was particularly low, but what she said sent me soaring.