Sparrow (10 page)

She
laughs sarcastically.  “I couldn’t make this up if I tried.”

Intrigued,
I set my can on the railing ledge and turn toward her.  She tips her head.  “Remember
the last time we talked?  When I texted you and told you my dad had a surprise?”

I
nod.  That conversation is etched into my brain.

Addison
inhales and then shifts her gaze toward the lake.  “My dad had been taking flying
lessons; he got his pilot license in the mail the day we came home.  His
surprise was to take my mom and me on his first solo flight.”

That’s
actually kind of cool.  “Where’d he take you?”

“Up
the coast of Lake Michigan.  He grew up on the west side of the state.”

“Did
you have a good time?”

Addison
shakes her head.  She looks down and swallows hard.  “The plane crashed, Kyle. 
My dad had a stroke and the plane crashed.”  Her eyes meet mine.  “My parents
died and I was in a coma for nine months.”

All
I can do is blink at her.  In all the time I spent wondering what had happened
to her, I never imagined this.  A car accident, yes.  An illness, maybe.  Her
parents relocating for work, definitely.  But never her falling out of the sky.

With
that thought I snap to.  I can’t believe she survived something so horrible.  Instinctively,
I reach for her, wrapping her protectively in my arms.  I’m thankful she
doesn’t resist because I need to touch her, to make sure she’s whole.

“How…? 
If I had known…”  I stutter as I crush her to me.

“You
couldn’t have known,” she says, muffled.

My
arms tighten around her before I step back to study her face.  “Are you okay?” 
Of the million thoughts racing through my mind, it’s the first question that
makes it out of my mouth.

“I’m
fine,” she says with a hint of a smile.  “I’ve had a few years to process what
happened.  I also have a really great counselor.”

“Counselor?” 
I frown.

“For
the PTSD,” she says like it’s no big thing.  “My nightmares are almost
non-existent these days.”

Holy
shit.

“You
have nightmares?” I ask.  “How many?”

She
sighs.  “Like I said, not a lot anymore.”

I’m
concerned, and my face shows it.  Addison notices and rolls her eyes.  “Please
don’t look at me like that.”

“Like
what?”

“Like
you feel sorry for me.”

My
eyes narrow.  “You were in a plane crash.”

“Yes.”

“You
were in a coma.”

“Yes.”

“That
had to be terrifying.”

“I’ve
worked past it.”

We
stare at one another.  Addison crosses her arms and sticks out her hip, just
like she did the first day I met her.  I remember how sarcastic and confident
she was that day, when she told me I was an ass before she knew my name.  As I
look at her now, I still see that girl.  But, as much as she may want to hide
it, I also see a vulnerability that was never there before.  Her mouth might
say one thing, but her eyes say another.

“So,
where have you been all this time?”  I ask.

She
blinks and her expression looks a little brighter.  “I was living in the upper
peninsula until a few years ago.”

“Why
up there?”

“To
by near my sister.”  Addison walks over to the grill and raises the lid to
check on the chicken.  She finds the tongs and pokes a few pieces, then closes
it again.  “After the accident, when I got back on my feet, I moved in with
Meagan.  We got an apartment close to Michigan Tech; we waitressed while we
went to school.”

“Wait.” 
I walk toward her.  “You ended up at Tech?  What happened to Julliard?”

She
lets out a sarcastic laugh.  “Unconsciousness does not lead to scholarships.”

“But,
that was your dream.”

“It’s
hard to audition when you have to learn how to walk again.”

I
must look like a deer in headlights because she continues.  “I have a pin in my
hip and a metal rod in my leg.”  She pats her left thigh and smiles.  “You can
call me the bionic woman.”

My
eyes get wide.  “That’s not funny.”

“Sometimes
you have to laugh to get through the crazy,” she states diplomatically.  “It
took me almost a year after I woke up to get my strength back.  In the
beginning, I couldn’t even feed myself.”  She looks embarrassed.  “Ask Derek; I
was a hot mess.”

My
brow creases.  “Why Derek?”

Addison
lifts the top of the grill again.  “He was my physical therapist.”

As
the information sinks in, I watch her pick up a chicken leg.  She slices it
open and pulls off a piece of meat.  She blows on it, then holds it out to me. 
“Want to try?”

I
open my mouth to ask how she can be so nonchalant, but she mistakes my move as
an invitation.  She pops the food into my mouth, and it takes me a moment to
remember how to chew.  I never thought I would see her again, yet here we are. 
She’s feeding me grilled chicken while she explains how she cheated death.  It’s
hard to think straight.

“Is
it done?” she asks.

I
swallow.  “Yeah.”

She
faces the grill and turns off the gas.  “I’ll go get a plate for this.”

As
she starts to walk away, I grab her elbow.  “Addison.”

She
meets my eyes.

“Why
didn’t you contact me?  I would have been there for you; I could have helped.”

Hurt
colors her features for an instant then disappears.  “I was broken when I woke
up; more than physically.  I wasn’t the same person you knew.”  She takes a
heavy breath.  “By the time I felt sane again, years had passed since we had
seen each other.  It made sense that you would have moved on and forgotten about
me.”

Gently,
I squeeze her arm.  “I never stopped thinking about you.  Ever.”

She
gives me a tiny smile, and her body relaxes beneath my fingers.  She studies my
face for a few silent seconds.  I wonder what she’s thinking.

“More
blue today,” she finally says.

“What?”

“The
color of your eyes.  They’re more blue today.”

I
remember a similar conversation we had a lifetime ago, about my color-changing
eyes.  “Is that bad?” I ask.

“No.” 
She looks wistful as she removes her elbow from my grasp.  “They’re just as
amazing as I remember them.”

For
the second night in a row, I can’t sleep.  Kevin, however, snores soundly from
the bed beside mine.

When
we first arrived at the cottage, my brother and I discussed sleeping
arrangements.  Neither of us felt okay staying in Gram’s bedroom, so here we
are, two grown men, sharing the same room we slept in as kids.  I know I should
man up and move to Gram’s bed, but I can’t bring myself to sleep there.  It doesn’t
feel right.  Besides, it’s not my brother’s snoring that’s giving me insomnia.

It’s
a certain girl from my past.

For
the hundredth time, I drag my hand over my tired eyes.  It’s useless to lie
here and get a headache listening to Kevin.  I throw the blankets off my body
and sit up, staring at my brother through the darkness.  He continues to snore,
and I seriously wonder if he should get that checked.  I can’t believe his
girlfriend puts up with it.

Stiffly,
I wander downstairs and find myself in the kitchen.  The clock on the stove
glows green in the dark, informing me it’s after two a.m.  I flip the light switch
by the sink and decide there’s no time like the present for a bowl of cereal.

As
I hunker down over my late night snack, my mind turns to today.

And
yesterday.

And
days well before that.

I
can’t stop comparing the girl I fell in love with to the woman I spent the
afternoon talking to.  They’re so similar, yet different.  Seventeen-year-old
Addison was carefree and determined.  She planned on following her heart, and
you couldn’t tell her otherwise.  Twenty-five-year-old Addison still appears
strong, but more resigned.  Experience lives behind her eyes now.  Years ago,
when she would talk about dancing, she would light up.  Now, when she talks
about her job as a dance instructor, she barely glows.  It’s not what she wants
to do and I can tell.  Her husband, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to notice. 
He thinks the job she was able to find when they relocated down state is
perfect.

Thanks
to Kevin, the questions kept coming during the game today.  Apparently Derek
was Addison’s primary therapist when she was in the hospital.  When her doctors
determined she had brain activity, he was there; working her arms and legs
after her injuries healed, so her muscles stayed limber.  Derek was the first
person she saw when she opened her eyes again.  After rehab, he helped her study
to earn her GED and, when she decided she was well enough to move in with her
sister up north, he left his job at the hospital for another, to avoid a
long-distance relationship.  Now they’re married; have been for five years.

The
thought burns me.  I know it shouldn’t, but it does.  I should have been the
first person Addison saw when she opened her eyes, and I would have been had I known
where she was.  Does that mean we would be together now?  I’m not sure.  She
said she was broken back then.  But, a smug part of me would like to think
Derek wouldn’t have stood a chance had I been in the picture.

Don’t
get me wrong: I understand that ship has sailed now.  Derek and Addison look
happy, especially after she plopped her ass in his lap and spent the last quarter
of the game pressed against his chest.  My face twists at the thought.  What I
saw only brought up memories of her curled in
my
lap, on the last night
we spent together at the lake.  It was hard not to compare my past experience
to this afternoon, especially when she kept catching my eyes with hers.  I
couldn’t figure out if she was trying to tell me something or if she was just comparing
grown Kyle to teenage Kyle, like I did to her.

With
my spoon, I scrape the bottom of the bowl and realize I’ve tasted none of the
cereal.  Kevin thinks I should be able to move past Addison, now that I know she
didn’t willingly disappear.  He says running into her again should bring me some
closure.  Honestly, it does and it doesn’t.  Maybe, in time, I’ll be able to
think about her without contemplating the what-ifs.  The truth is, if she
wasn’t married, I would jump at the chance to get to know her again.  Can I
really blame Derek for wanting her?  Despite Addison’s condition when she first
arrived at the hospital, he probably lost his heart then and there.  I know I
would have.  As a matter of fact, I think she still has mine.  Given the
circumstances, I should probably ask for it back.

After
the game, Addison gave Kevin and me a goodbye hug.  She didn’t mention getting
together again.  I’m not sure what I expected; she told me everything.  Why
would we
need
to see each other again?  Kevin did manage to slide one of
our business cards into her hand, saying if she ever needed anything done
around the house to let us know.  At least she has my number.  I have to think if
she wants to talk, she’ll call.  Unfortunately, I know better than to hold my
breath waiting.

Tasteless
snack gone, I place my bowl in the sink, turn off the light, and stare out the kitchen
window.  It faces Addison’s cottage, but I can’t see it in the dark. 
Regardless, I know it’s there, and I know she’s inside.

It’s
then the realization hits me.

I
may not be able to see her or touch her, but I know she’s there.  Even though
we’ve parted ways, she exists.  Addison is alive, and she is safe.  It’s the
only thing that matters.

It’s
the only thing that should matter.

~~~~

The
following afternoon, Kevin and I pack up to head home.  We’ve been at the
cottage nearly a week, and it’s time to get back to work.  We made decent
progress in sorting through Gram’s things.  Kevin has a truck load to drop off
at the Goodwill, and mine holds what I salvaged from the garage for the
business.

As
I slam my tailgate shut, my brother’s phone rings.  He answers it for the
millionth time today.  “Hey, babe.  I’m leaving in five.”

I
eavesdrop on his side of the conversation and frown.  This Ashley is impatient.

“Three
hours give or take.  Yeah, I’m coming over.”  He chuckles, then almost growls, “Please
do.”  His tone changes back to lighthearted.  “Love you, too.  Bye.”

Christ.

Kevin
catches me scowling at him.  “What?”

“Love
you too?”

He
sighs.  “I told you how I felt about her.”

“You
said you
thought
you were falling in love with her.  When did that
change?”

“Since
we’ve been apart for five days.  I miss her.”

I
shake my head and cross my arms.  “I told you to slow down.”

Kevin
mirrors my pose.  “And I said you should understand.”

Now
it’s my turn to sigh.  “It’s not that I don’t understand.  It’s just…you know
how things turned out when I fell too fast.”

“Well,
I’m not you, and Ashley’s not Addison.”  Kevin walks forward.  “This is the
real thing.”

Is
he insinuating that Addison and I weren’t the real thing?  Oh, wait.  We
weren’t.  At least, not after fate or karma or some other shit stepped in.

“Listen,
I get it.”  I put my hands up defensively.  “I want you to be happy, and if you
want Ashley, then that’s fine.  I can’t stop being your big brother, though. 
If this goes bad, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Kevin
grins and slaps me on the shoulder.  “You’ll see.  You’ll love her once you
meet her.”

I’ll
take his word for it.

We
agree to meet at the office in the morning, then jump in our respective
vehicles to head home.  I take one last look at the place I avoided for so long
and immediately know I’ll return.  Not only do we still have work to do, but
this place is ours now.  Gram wanted us to enjoy it, and I know she’s
watching.  I won’t let her down again.

As
my truck winds its way around the lake toward the main road, I realize I saw
next to nothing during my time here.  I managed to make it into town once for
groceries, but that was it.  Unlike my brother, I don’t have anyone to rush
home to, so I decide to detour to the old farm property I used to visit on the
quad.  Since working outdoors is my life now, I’m curious to see how nature has
taken over the place.  I would be pleasantly surprised if someone bought it and
lived there, even though I’ve never seen it up for sale.  It’s a great piece of
land.

When
I pull up to the farm, I notice a silver Hummer H3 parked crookedly in the
grass.  My eyes dart past it and find Addison, sitting on the edge of the
farmhouse foundation with her knees pulled to her chest.  My truck slows and my
pulse accelerates as I debate stopping.  I search for Derek.  I don’t see him,
but that doesn’t mean he’s not here.  Should I stop and say hi or keep going?

To
hell with it.  At this point, I have nothing to lose.

I
park next to the Hummer, kill the engine, and glance at Addison through the
windshield.  She hasn’t moved, and it doesn’t look like she knows I’m here. 
Slowly, I exit the truck.  I shove my hands in my back pockets and walk toward
her.  She probably came out here to be alone and here I am, ruining her solitude. 
I’m about ten steps away when she wipes beneath her eyes and turns to face me.

“Fancy
meeting you here.”  She offers a weak smile.

Concerned,
I close the distance between us and crouch in front of her.  “Are you crying?”

She
takes a shaky breath and sniffs.  “Not anymore.”

Her
eyes are puffy and rimmed in red; it’s obvious the tears have been falling for
some time.  My jaw tenses.  “Whose ass do I have to kick?”

She
lets out a clipped laugh.  “No one’s, but thanks for the offer.”

“Are
you sure?”

She
nods.  “Same issue, different day.  I’ll be all right.”

Not
that it’s my business, but I want to know what the problem is.  Does it have
something to do with her nightmares?  She said they were better.  Suddenly, I’m
worried it is related to her trauma, to her past.  Just yesterday, she had to
re-live it all to tell me what happened.

Did
I push her into some sort of relapse?

“It’s
me, isn’t it?” I ask and stand.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll go.”

Her
face contorts.  “What?  No!  Don’t be an idiot.”

I
give her a wary look.  “Telling me what happened didn’t hurt you?”

“Hell
yes it hurt,” she says.  “But, it’s a familiar pain.”

The
fact that she has any pain, let alone a familiar one, doesn’t sit well with
me.  I want to comfort her, but I don’t know how.  “I wish I could change
things,” I tell her honestly.  “I wish I could make it better.”

She
sighs.  “It’s not up to you to make it better.”  She moves over on the cement
she’s perched on and glances at the empty space next to her.  With caution, I
take a seat.  Together, we stare out over the empty yard in silence.

As
my eyes roam, I take in the ancient oaks that still stand like towering guards
over the property.  Most of their leaves have fallen, but a few branches remain
dotted with rusty red.  To my left, the fruit orchard is the same overgrown
mess as it always was, although you can still make out the perfect alignment of
trees.  Scattered beneath them, on the ground, are dozens of apples, well-rotted
by now.  Time stands still and my mind wanders.  It creates pathways and
designs flower beds; it constructs a driftwood arbor next to a manmade pond.  My
eyes land on the spot where Addison and I had our picnic summers ago.  My mind
switches gears.  I see the place where we danced like fools, where she earned
her nickname, where we –

“Are
you thinking what I’m thinking?” Addison quietly interrupts my trip down memory
lane.

I
clear my throat.  “Possibly.”

My
eyes meet hers, and I swear to God if she wasn’t married I would kiss her.  I
want
to kiss her.  I want to tie more memories to this place by wrapping her in my
arms, holding her against me, and erasing our lost years with my lips.

My
shoulders tense at the thought.  If I acted on my imagination, I’m sure I would
get slapped.  It wouldn’t hurt anything but my ego.  Or, worse yet, the chance
to see her again.

Addison
must read my mind because she moves, hugging her knees to her chest, and
filling the space between us.  The last thing I want is for her to feel
uncomfortable, so I manage a crooked smile and say, “I was designing one hell
of a landscape in my head.  Why?  What were you thinking?”

She
gives me a knowing smirk and lightly kicks my leg with her foot.  “I always
knew you had a thing for the outdoors.  Kevin gave me your card.”

“I
saw.”

“I’m
happy for you.  You’re doing something you love.”  She looks sincere.  “I bet
your work is amazing.”

“Business
is good.”  I shrug off her compliment.  “Kevin does the talking, I do the
design.  It works like a charm.”

“I’m
sure it does.”

Silence
surrounds us again, and I hate it.  It never used to be this way; Addison and I
could talk for hours about absolutely nothing.  Or, if we were quiet, it was a comfortable
silence.  Usually our bodies were wrapped around one another and there wasn’t any
need for words.