Just a Little (5-8) (26 page)

“Prazosin,” I revealed an orange pill bottle. I slid the sealed container across the table and avoided his stare. “Dr. Norwood says I’m suffering from post-traumatic stress—
I guess that wasn’t really a secret
. She thinks it’s the over production of adrenaline in my system that’s causing the nightmares, and this medicine is supposed to help.”

Luke eyed the pill bottle for a second, and then he met my stare.

“I’ll be honest,” I licked my dry lips. “It might as well be candy. It hasn’t helped at all.”

I pulled the dream journal out of the front pocket and clutched it between my fingers.

“I told you about these, the rewritten endings to my nightmares,” I flipped through the pages to find a recent entry. It was one of the only few that talked about him, but it was also the one that I felt was most important to share. As I searched for that particular entry in the journal, it wasn’t anywhere to be found. The perforated edges along the spine indicated that it’d been ripped out.

I ran my fingers along the rough edges and dropped my head.

“Oh, God,” I whispered. “It’s gone.”

A brief smile crossed Luke’s lips, and he lifted a single finger. “Hold that thought.”

He got up, disappeared down the hallway, and returned a few minutes later with a small box. He sat down, handed me the box, and then took the liberty of removing the lid.

“All thirteen,” he said.

I looked down at the thirteen paper airplanes I’d fashioned out of the floral-printed pages of my dream journal.

“You picked them up?”

“I couldn’t leave ’em in the street, Jules,” he looked embarrassed to admit it, “and I couldn’t throw ’em away.”

“Why not?” I sifted through the tattered planes. “They were just trash.”

I dug around for a second and found a crumpled plane buried toward the bottom of the box—one that I’m certain, judging by its dirt-stained edges had taken a long stroll through the Historic District. I could see the writing on the inside, and I knew before I even opened it that it was the missing entry from my journal.

I held the crumpled piece of paper in my hand as I found the nerve to tell Luke about my nightmare.

It wouldn’t be easy. After all, admitting my fears and insecurities to anyone was hard, but to Luke… I was never ready to admit my imperfections.

“I’ve had the same dream three times,” I tried to smooth the wrinkles on the page. “It always starts with the two of us going home to West Bridge.”

Luke smiled.

“We’re standing on the front lawn of my parents’ house, the house where I grew up. You’re admiring everything from the trees, to the grass, to the beautiful girl on your arm.” Luke’s smile stretched a little wider. “In my dream, Mom and Dad are still alive, but we never see them. It’s just implied; we talk about them like they’re alive, inside the house, and waiting on us. I mention how much Dad loves you, and that seems to really make you happy. But we’re there for a reason. It’s not just an ordinary, casual visit. And... God, this is embarrassing,” I said, shaking my head. Unable to look him in the eye, I rubbed the back of my neck and avoided his stare. “We’re there because you want to talk to Dad about something. You want to ask him a question.”

I paused and took a deep breath.

“You want to propose to me, but you want to ask for his blessing first.”

Luke closed his eyes, and I feared that I’d already said too much.

What better way to scare your boyfriend than to start talking about marriage?

“You go to ring the bell, but the door’s already open. We go inside yelling for my parents, but they’re nowhere around. And then the whole house drains of color. Everything becomes black and white. You disappear.
You’re just gone
. I see this giant pool of blood at my feet. Mom screams. Two gun shots. And then I wake up.”

Luke finally opened his eyes, and his stare slowly drifted back to meet mine. He watched me for a second. His gaze fell to the paper airplane I’d held while I talked.

“And you had to rewrite the ending? Leave out the bad parts?”

“Yeah,” I lifted the paper in the air.

Luke watched my fingers grip around the page. He took it from my hands and set it aside on the table.

“You don’t want to know?”

“I have a pretty good idea, Jules,” he took both of my hands. His brown eyes softened as he watched me for a few long seconds. His fingers gently squeezed mine. “I’m sorry that I’ll never get the opportunity to meet them or ask for their blessing.
I know that’s the ideal ending, kid,
and if there was any way I could make it happen, I would.”

“You don’t have to say that,” I managed a small smile.

“No, I do,” he said, and his eyes glossed over, “because you need to know.”

“Luke,” I squeezed his hands, “I didn’t tell you these things to get some kind of response from you. I didn’t want to hurt you or make myself feel better. I simply wanted you to know because I love you, and I think it’s time that I stop keeping so much from you. You deserve to know what’s going on, and I have no right to keep it from you.”

“Julie,” he said as if he sensed an ulterior motive.

“No,” I shook my head, “I’m not trying to guilt you into opening up to me, Luke. I know
you’re
not ready, and I respect that. I just want you to know that I trust you enough to know the truth. When you’re ready—
if
you’re ever ready—you can let go and trust me, too.”

He pressed his lips together and held his breath, but then he managed a few slow nods.

I collected the pill bottle, dream journal, and paper airplane from the table. I tucked the first two in my purse, slung it over my shoulder, and stood up. The plane, though, I stared at for a few long seconds. Taking a deep breath, I finally unfolded the creases I’d worked so hard to perfect and revealed my barely legible scribbles.

“I want you to read this, Luke,” I handed it to him again. He took it, but his eyes never looked down. “I love you,” I whispered, “but please don’t assume you know what’s written on that paper; don’t assume you know what my ideal ending is until you’ve taken the time to read it for yourself.”

Monday, June 10

“Did he say anything?” Dr. Norwood asked. “Did he mention anything at all about your alternate ending?”

“No, not once. He never said a word.”

“
Really
?”

“Never,” I shook head. “It’s been five days since I gave it to him; I honestly don’t think he’s read it.”

“Okay,” she said, sitting taller. She seemed surprised—about as surprised as I was—to learn that Luke hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to learn about my deepest, darkest, innermost hopes and dreams. “But you found peace in opening up to him, telling him how you truly see your future playing out?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“And that peace of mind helped you sleep,” she said, but it sounded more like a question.

“Yeah,” I nodded once, “I went to sleep that night and dreamed, but it was different.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. It was just different.”

CHAPTER NINE

Three days earlier

“Mom!”

I ran for the stairs as fast as I could. I didn’t know where the strength had come from, but I’d somehow fought the gravitational force that’d tried to paralyze my body. I fought it, and I moved so quickly that I tripped over my feet as I rushed up the staircase and closer to the sound of my mother’s cry.

I reached the second floor and darted for my parents’ bedroom, but the room was empty.

Another scream.

I followed the sound back down the steps, stopping dead in my tracks as I reached the middle of the staircase. I clung to the banister as my eyes fell to the pile of dead bodies stacked at the foot of the stairs.

Mom….

Dad….

Matt and Charlie….

Derek….

Kara….

Lonnie and Grace….

Bruno….

All dead.

But where was—

“Julie!” Luke’s loud voice echoed through the room.

I watched as he rounded the corner and stopped quickly. His eyes were fixed on the dead bodies at his feet, and it was only when I sobbed that Luke’s stare snapped up to meet mine.

“Jules,” he whispered, and he stepped over Matt’s lifeless body. He climbed the stairs quickly, whisked me off my feet, pulled my head into his shoulder, and shielded my line of sight as he carried me out of the house.

Once outside and back in the yard, the color began restoring itself.

No more black.

No more white.

No more shades of gray.

I cried against Luke’s chest as he held me tightly, and he pressed a long kiss to the side of my head.

“I thought you were dead,” I cried, tasting my salty tears as they crossed my lips.

Luke tightened his hold and dropped his mouth close to my ear.

“Listen to me,” he kept a steady voice. “I’m never going to leave you, Julie. Never. I—love—you.”

Friday, June 07 | 9:00 a.m.

“How’re things at Kara’s?” Charlie asked, setting his fork aside and leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his bulging belly and released a quiet burp.

“Excuse you,” I said, and we both smiled. My uncle nodded once and then adjusted himself against the back of the chair.

It was a warm morning, and we’d gladly taken advantage of the outdoor seating just beneath the awning at the district’s outdoor café. Charlie had called an hour earlier and asked me to join him and Matt for breakfast. Matt, as Charlie had just finished telling me, opted to cover Rebecca’s morning shift at the floral shop across the street instead of joining his family for an early meal.

“Julie?”

“Hmm?”

“How are things going at Kara’s?” he asked again, and I lifted my napkin to my face to hide my guilty expression.

Oh boy.

Deep breath
.

“Honestly?” I put the napkin aside after discreetly wiping the corners of my lips. “I’m not staying with Kara.”

Charlie sat up and leaned closer, and his eyes stared forward in an intense gaze.

“We got into a fight,” I explained, looking down at my plate. “She said she never wanted to talk to me again.”

I spent the next five minutes reliving the argument Kara and I had on the street, and I didn’t look up at my uncle once to gauge his reaction.

“She doesn’t see Mattie as anything more than a high school boyfriend,” I shook my head. “He looks at her and sees the love of his life. Truthfully, I don’t think it’s fair that she’s mad at me. I didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m sorry, but I’m not going to apologize to her. He loves her, and she broke his heart. The things she said to him…
unforgiveable
, Charlie.”

He nodded once, and a thin layer of tears glossed over his eyes. It was easy to see that he hurt for his son. Heck, I felt it, too. Anyone who knew Matt knew that he loved with all of his heart. Even if his intentions were too grand and unfair—as Kara seemed to believe they were—he’d only meant well.

Now his heart was broken into a million tiny pieces, and there was nothing anyone could to do help him.

“Since you didn’t stay with Kara?” he lifted a brow. As much as I’d hoped my story would divert the inevitable direction of his questioning, Charlie was a pro. He knew when he was being steered away from the truth, and he knew just how to bring the conversation back full-circle. “Where’d you go?”

“I ended up at Grace and Lonnie’s,” I said, knowing that that nugget of information was crucial to share.

Matt already knew that I’d been staying with Luke, and I knew for certain that Bruno did, too. That meant there was a great possibility that Charlie was bound to find out from one of them, and the last thing I wanted was for him to learn the truth from anyone but me.

“Okay,” he let his chest fall with a large exhalation, “Grace and Lonnie. Good. I can deal with that.”

“That didn’t work out,” I said, not giving him much time to enjoy his relief. “I had a nightmare, and… apparently sleepwalked.”

“Sleepwalked?” Charlie leaned forward again. “When did that start?”

“The other night, I guess,” I shrugged a shoulder. “I ended up getting out of bed, running down the stairs, and beating the crap out of Lonnie because he wouldn’t let me out the front door.”

“Oh, honey….”

“I don’t remember it happening,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t think Lonnie wanted me there. I think he saw me as a danger to his and Grace’s safety—”

“So you’ve been staying with Luke,” Charlie said, and it wasn’t a question. His lips thinned as he watched me, and then he shook his head and looked down to the table. “Julie…”

I honestly expected him to yell. I thought he’d throw things, curse at me, and even mumble under his breath. But Charlie didn’t do any of those things. He just sat straighter, and his breathing steadied as he watched me with sad eyes.

“Whatever scenario you’re playing in your mind is just that—only in your mind,” I crossed my heart. “Honestly. You have nothing to worry about—”

“I don’t want you staying there, Julie.”

“Charlie, please,” I prayed my voice didn’t sound as frantic as I felt. All I wanted was a chance to state my case. I just wanted an opportunity to be heard. “If you only knew—”

“I don’t want to know. The answer is no. No way. Not happening—”

“But—”

“
No,”
he said, and it was the first time I sensed his anger.

“Charlie,” I said, speaking a little louder, but not raising my voice. When my uncle’s eyes snapped up and met mine, I puffed my chest with confidence and let out a slow breath.

1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10….

“I slept for seven hours last night.
Seven straight hours.
”

“Congratulations, Julie,” he didn’t sound the least bit congratulatory, “but that doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind. You’re eighteen; you’re just a baby. I’m not about to let you stay with him.”

“Charlie,” I blinked heavily once or twice, “he’s helping me. I don’t know how, and I can’t explain it, but Luke’s the answer.” He dropped his head as if he couldn’t entertain the idea. He didn’t understand, and it had suddenly become necessary to
try
to make him see things differently.

“I’m so consumed by the nightmares,” I said quietly. “I’m so consumed—believe it or not—that I can’t even escape them when I’m awake. I think about them constantly; if I’m not thinking about them, I’m writing about them. Something changes when I’m with Luke. I let go; I’m able to breathe easily for a change.”

His eyes met mine again, but I still couldn’t read his expression.

“Isn’t that what you want, Charlie?” I asked. “You’ve said all along that you’re only hope is that I can get better, and now I’m getting better—
because of Luke
. You’re seriously going to take that away from me?”

He scratched his scalp.

“I really don’t think he’s the answer, Julie,” he finally said. “I know you want to believe he is, but
I
know it’s going to take more than Luke’s mere presence to end it all. It’s going to take more than just a pill, magic potion, or fairytale hero. Hard work, persistence, faith—
that’s
what you need. The dreams aren’t going to stop just because you have Luke. It’s just not possible.”

“You’re wrong,” I pushed myself away from the table to stand up.

“You’re not going back to that apartment.”

“Charlie,” I finally found the nerve to raise my voice, “I love you.”

His mouth hung open for a minute, and I could tell by his stunned expression that those three words were nowhere near what he’d expected to hear.

“
I love you
,” I said again, feeling my breath come much shorter, “but I know that I’m safer with him than I’ve ever been with anyone else.” I held my hand over my chest and managed a smile. “I know you hate it, and I know you want to fight it, but I’m done arguing about this. I love Luke, and I’m following my heart on this. He’s the answer. I know he is, and I honestly don’t care if you don’t believe me.”

I finally stood and started to turn away, but then I remembered one last thing.

“I want Dad’s box, Charlie,” I let my arms fall loosely at my sides. “It’s mine, and you have to give it to me.”

The anger in my uncle’s eyes quickly faded. “Julie…”

“I’m giving it to Luke,” I reached up to take my necklace in hand. “He’s done so much for me, and I owe him that much.”

A few heavy blinks brought tears to his eyes, but he nodded.

I knew he’d finally given up.

Charlie wasn’t going to stand in my way anymore.

Friday, June 07| 6:15 p.m.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Luke cracked a smile as he came through the front door.

“Nice,” I looked up from the couch and closed my dream journal with a snap.

With a flirtatious wink and crooked smile, he turned and closed the door behind him. Still in the doorway, he knelt down and removed his shoes in the slowest and most efficient manner possible. Standing straight again, he unbuttoned the top two buttons on his uniform and looked back to me.

“How was your day?” he leaned his head from side to side to stretch his neck.

I nodded to indicate ‘okay,’ but didn’t let on that it’d been a long, arduous day.

I was still reeling after my conversation with Charlie.

I’d spent the day wandering through Oakland without anyone but myself to talk to. Believe it or not, no one really stared as I wandered down the streets arguing with myself.

“It was fine,” I hoped to spare Luke from the conversation I’d had with my uncle earlier that day. “You?”

“No complaints,” he stopped by the couch to press a quick kiss to the top of my head before heading down the hallway. He returned a few minutes later wearing street clothes and a grin. “You want to get out of here tonight?”

I quirked a brow and stared at him suspiciously.

“And go where, exactly?”

Friday, June 07 | 8:30 p.m.

“I should’ve known,” I cracked a smile as I looked out the passenger’s side window. Luke pulled off into the dirt turnabout, and my eyes wandered across the small forest that lined a stretch of property just off the road.

Luke parked the car and got out, and he made it around to open my door just as I decided to follow.

“Not so fast, Julie Little,” he said as I headed for a hidden trail at the edge of the trees. I turned back to watch him open the car door and retrieve a small basket from the backseat. “I have goodies.”

I looked from him to the basket, but I didn’t question it. Good or bad, I knew better than to let Luke surprise me. I hadn’t seen him grab anything before we left, so I assumed he already had it ready before he even came home.

God, how had I gotten so lucky?

He gripped the basket in one hand and took a few long strides to catch up with me. We barely made it two steps into the trees before his hand brushed mine, and for a moment, I considered it’d been an accident. But then Luke grabbed my hand and threaded our fingers together, and any doubt that he’d mistakenly touched me a moment ago quickly vanished.

He held my hand for the entirety of our walk, weaving in and out of the many trees. It’d only been the third time I’d trekked along that very path, and Luke’s hand burning against my skin reminded me far too much of our first walk in that direction.

I closed my eyes and let him guide me as we walked. The familiar tingling in my nerves served as an amazing reminder of how real everything had become. Gone were the days of wishing and hoping for Luke’s love and attention; we were finally together, and I couldn’t foresee anything tearing us apart.

We reached the clearing after a few minutes and matched each other’s stride in perfect sync until we reached the top of the first hill. It was only then that Luke let go of my hand, reached in the basket, and pulled out a thin, folded blanket. He unfolded the material in one swift motion, and I took it from him and spread it out on the soft ground.