chapter 5
We sat in the back of the library as I picked at the last of my cold chicken sandwich. I had been left in charge of the place over the lunch hour today, and Peter was keeping me company. This section of the library was equipped with a big old wing backed chair and a love seat. Peter had lifted me over to the love seat, and I was relishing the chance to get out of my wheelchair. If someone happened to come in, I would hear the bell over the door.
I reached for a napkin and the light from one of the tall windows caught the charm on my bracelet, making the graceful fish glint and glow. Peter smiled as I wiped my face. He popped a grape in his mouth and reached for his bottle of juice. It was still odd eating alone, and I think he knew that. I doubted he would ever eat that much if he were alone. Vampires only ate for pleasure, and only once in a while. He said most human food lost its taste after you were turned, and it wasn’t as if he needed it for sustenance. His eyes followed my hand as I started tucking things away in my little lunch box.
“I’ve noticed you wear that bracelet often,” he said, taking my hand in order to examine the charm more closely. He shifted closer, and a shiny shock of dark brown hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it away and his soft, earthy smell filled my senses. I took a deep breath to steady myself. Even just being close to him like this was overwhelming. He said it was because of the hormones he produced to attract prey, but I wasn’t so sure that’s all it was.
I cleared my throat and tried to get a grip. “It’s a koi,” I said, fingering the charm. It was jointed in a few places, so it looked as if it were swimming when I nudged it.
He nodded and glanced up at me, unaware that his nearness was giving me heart palpitations. “They are supposed to be good luck, right?”
I nodded, embarrassed by how much I believed in this one silly superstition. “It was supposed to be a good luck charm. One of my friends bought it for me in one of the mall stores when we were in high school.” I shrugged. “It used to hang from the rearview mirror of my car.” Peter had stopped looking at the charm, but he didn’t give me my hand back. Instead, he laced his fingers through mine. When I glanced at our hands, lying on his knee, he gifted me with a half-smile that said he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“After they got me out of the car, someone in the fire department picked up the fish.” My focus went distant as I tried to remember the time around my early recovery. It was hazy and I only recalled bits and pieces, like blurry snapshots. Post-traumatic amnesia made it impossible to remember the accident. I had even lost the last couple of days leading up to the accident. I couldn’t remember the woman, only what Mom told me about her. “She kept it, and when she learned that I was still alive, she brought it to the hospital. I glanced at Peter to find him regarding me intently, all signs of his earlier mischief in check. “My car was completely trashed.” My voice caught, for some reason, and I blinked hard, trying not to let my eyes water. “They had to cut me out. I lost all of my belongings, but this survived.”
I had seen pictures of the wreckage. The other driver’s vehicle was larger than mine, and it had a lot of force behind it. My little car was pushed off the road. It rolled down a big incline and smashed into a bunch of trees. Hundreds of pounds of glass and metal were twisted and shattered, my body was crushed and battered, and yet this cheap little fish was completely unharmed.
“I researched it, koi,” I said awkwardly. “Once I was better and I could focus long enough to operate a computer. There’s this Japanese story about how a koi swam up a waterfall and was turned into a dragon. It’s supposed to represent determination to overcome obstacles.” I looked down at my hands, embarrassed.
Peter nodded. “It’s a perfect symbol for you. You were lucky to survive, and you’ve been gifted with strength and perseverance over adversity.”
I snorted. “Yeah, lucky.” Sometimes I wondered if the damn thing was a good luck charm or a curse. I could do without having so much adversity to persevere against.
He pulled my hand up and gently pressed his lips to the underside of my wrist. “You can’t see it, because it’s just a part of who you are. I mean it when I say you are amazing. You have this spark. I love just watching the way you go about your life.”
His deep green eyes met mine and I had trouble breathing. “If you think watching me muddle around is fun, you have some twisted hobbies.” I sounded breathless, even to my own ears.
He grinned, unrepentant. “Are you suggesting I find better ways to pass my time?” The whole world seemed to close down so that all I could see was him. Suddenly I could feel my heartbeat with every breath, as if he were controlling it. I leaned toward him without even willing myself to move. He lifted a graceful hand to push my hair back out of my face, tucking it behind an ear. I felt trapped, as if I couldn’t look away. The sensation wasn’t nearly as alarming as it should have been. I was losing myself, like falling down a bottomless hole. Peter took a deep breath and I breathed with him, wanting to be completely joined with him.
He looked away, and the sensation started to melt. Ever so gently, he slipped his hand from mine and turned to pack up the rest of my lunch things. “I think it’s time for me to get going,” he said calmly. He shot a glance my way as if checking to make sure I was okay. “You have a meeting tomorrow, right? I’ll drop you by.”
I shook myself and struggled to focus. My mind sharpened and I nodded. “Uh, yeah.” I had a survivor support group to attend. What in the world had just happened? “Um…Peter,” I started hesitantly.
He stopped his busywork and went still, his back to me and his head bowed. After a moment, he turned back and gave me a soft smile. “I’m sorry.” His face had a soft expression somewhere between tenderness and guilt. “I didn’t mean to pull you under. I swear I wasn’t trying to do…anything to you.”
I broke away from his gaze, spinning the bracelet around my wrist absently. “I’m fine,” I lied. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lifted my gaze to meet his and gave him a smile. “I was just going to ask if we could get ice cream after the meeting tomorrow.”
He didn’t believe me, but he laughed and his smile was genuine. “Of course. I haven’t tried ice cream in a long time. It sounds good.”
I could have gone without the reminder that he wasn’t human, but maybe that had been his intent. What in the world was I getting myself tangled up in?
*****
I wheeled myself into the meeting room, goodies and a notebook piled on my lap. I was later than usual, and most of the others had already arrived.
“Melody! Girl, I thought you weren’t coming.” A boisterous alto lifted above the other chatter in the room and I felt people glance around before returning to their conversations. Joanie was loud and overwhelming, but we were all used to the tall, boisterous redhead.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said with a smile. “Can you help me put these out?” I held up the box of homemade cookies. The group only met once a month, and we all brought snacks and drinks for the break.
Joanie hurried over and helped me put my cookies out on a couple of plastic trays. She gave me an exaggerated look, taking in my earrings and painstakingly curled hair. “Did you have a date?” She was all eager hopefulness, and I couldn’t help but laugh, even though I knew I was turning a deep red. Everyone within a mile radius could hear her.
“Uh, sort of,” I admitted averting my eyes. “It was just a picnic.” Snagging a couple of cookies, I turned away and made my way to a gap in the circle of folding chairs, left there for those of us who had wheelchairs. “It’s no big deal,” I tossed after me.
Everyone had started to take their seats and a short, brown-haired woman in dark jeans and a snappy little red jacket came in to take her place in the circle, unofficially calling the meeting to order.
“Hello everyone.” Her big smile lit up the room, and the little side conversations started to die down. Melissa was a Speech therapist, and she led our group discussions and helped to keep us on track- something that could be difficult with a group of brain injury survivors. When her gaze lit on me, she grinned again, obviously having overheard Joanie’s comment.
“Today, I thought we might talk about relationships and how you guys are doing with making friends out in the community.” We had a general list of topics that the group suggested, so this really wasn’t any surprise. I gritted my teeth. Of course, I would love to gush about Peter, but it was embarrassing. Disinhibition and not being able to be entirely appropriate all the time was a big problem for a lot of people in the group and I really wasn’t looking forward to their questions, even if the intent was harmless.
Melissa crossed her legs and got comfortable. “We can just have a general discussion,” she said, calling the meeting to order. “But I thought we might start with talking about what makes it hard to form relationships with others when you have a brain injury and maybe some of the things that help you to cope with these issues.”
Now that the discussion had turned more serious, everyone was quiet. Finally, Joanie raised her hand. “I’m loud,” she said bluntly. “I know I am, and I try to tone it down, but I have all this energy, and sometimes it freaks people out. I don’t realize it until afterwards. I’m a little slow to catch on.”
A couple other group members nodded. It was a common problem. Melissa looked around the room. Her eyes settled on a slender, blond woman doing her best to hide, head down and eyes averted. “April,” she said warmly. “Do you find it hard to make friends out in the community?”
The woman clasped her small hands in her lap and screwed up her courage enough to meet Melissa’s eyes. April had been in our group for months, but she was still scared. I couldn’t imagine how she coped with meeting new people. “It’s hard,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t like people.”
Melissa nodded. “I know your injury has made you more self-conscious than before.” She smiled gently. “But you come here every month and talk to us. You’re doing great and we enjoy having you.”
April nodded, her eyes darting everywhere. “It helps that I know we’re all messed up.” Then she went back to looking at the floor.
Everyone took turns sharing their experiences, from the man who couldn’t speak well and had difficulty being understood, to the woman who was sexually inappropriate and tended to share too much when she met someone new. I soaked in their stories, comforted anew by being surrounded by people who were like me, just a step or two outside the norm. I slowly felt myself settle into my survivor role like an old shirt that I hadn’t worn in a while. Being around the people at work, my family, and all the other people in my life who were all “normal” sometimes felt like wearing a mask.
I took a bite of my last cookie, trying to be a silent observer, but Melissa was having none of it. She always picked on me and I could never get through an entire meeting without being put on the spot. “Melody, how have things been going for you lately?” Her voice was sweet, but I knew she wouldn’t ask me if she didn’t expect me to share something with the group.
The cookie suddenly felt dry and tasteless in my mouth. I glanced at the clock. Maybe we would run out of time. I cleared my throat and tried to gather my thoughts. “I’m doing fine,” I said hesitantly.
The Speech therapist was used to coaxing information from hesitant people. “I hear you’ve been dating. Would you mind sharing with the group? What kinds of challenges are you facing?”
I took a deep breath. Everyone was looking at me. Some were looking for hope, some for a juicy story, and some were just downright jealous. “Uh…I don’t know what to say.” My mind faltered as I was put on the spot. I couldn’t think of a response fast enough.
“Can you share how you met?” Melissa was there to coach me through.
I swallowed. I couldn’t really tell them that I had helped him hide from the vampires that were chasing him, thus sparking his curiosity. “We met on the subway. I was on my way to work.”
The room around me was full of smiles. Even the ones who were jealous were still supportive. We all shared the bond of deep pain and personal change. It isn’t something that just anyone can easily understand. I wanted to give them hope, tell them that if someone like me could find love, then they definitely could too. I didn’t know how to give them hope when I was sitting there feeling so false. Anything I could possibly tell them would be a lie, a half-truth at best. “He said I was interesting because I had been through so much and he wanted to eat lunch together.”
I could hear little murmurs of approval and someone said, “Aww….” I thought I might be ill.
Melissa patted me on the knee. “I think it’s important to remember that how you see yourself isn’t always how others see you,” she said honestly. “What you’ve been through doesn’t have to be a shameful thing. It has been transformational for all of you, and that kind of strength makes you interesting. You are constantly comparing yourselves to who you used to be- but new people only know you as you are now.” She nodded at me in encouragement, but I was feeling conflicted.
“I’m tired,” I admitted, erasing her smile. “He isn’t like me. It’s so hard to keep up with him.” I looked down at my hands then back up at the group. “I think my biggest challenge is when I see him beside other people- people that are whole. Then I wonder if he should be with someone like them instead.” Melissa was listening, but she didn’t comment, letting me get it out. “What if I’m taking away his chance to be happy?
I glanced away from the group, catching a movement out of the corner of my eye. Peter stood in the hallway, just outside the door. Melissa caught my glance and started wrapping things up, but I wasn’t listening. Peter hadn’t come in yet, honoring the boundaries of the group, but I knew he could hear us just fine. His gaze caught mine and he shook his head and mouthed something. I thought it might have been no one else.
I hadn’t meant to bear my soul to him, and I felt exposed with all the people around me. I breathed a sigh of relief when we were officially released and people began to congregate around the snacks and refreshments.
Peter and a few other spouses and significant others came in and joined the group for refreshments. He was genuine and relaxed, and everyone adored him, but I could feel the subtle space between him and the others, and that space included me when I was by his side. I felt like I was being pulled in two directions- us or them. I could feel my attachment to Peter pulling me away from my place. I felt like I was being sucked into a vortex, but was powerless to stop it.