Hell on Heels (20 page)

Digging through my purse, I found what I was looking for and laid it in my lap. Turning it over once or twice, I admired the way the white polish on my nails contrasted perfectly with the leather.

I’d bought it the day I remembered how good it felt to laugh. It was summer. I'd been walking through Stanley Park. Two boys were chasing their sister through the trees and one of them reminded me of Henry when we'd been young. They finally caught her, tickling her ruthlessly into the grass, and the sound of their laughter was contagious.

I’d laughed for the first time in years, and I mean really laughed. I’d laughed so hard my sides ached and tears trailed my cheeks.

I bet I looked crazy, and I hadn't cared.

The sky had been blue that day, just like my blue wallet.

“So tell me about Beau.” Doctor Colby asked, “What draws you to him?”

I drained the last of my venti caramel macchiato and positioned it onto the table. “It’s simple, really. I think something about him makes me feel accepted in my entirety.” She took notes as I spoke. “Beau is effortless.”

“How do you mean, effortless?” she questioned.

I twisted the lid of the empty cup. “You know how sometimes you just do something because it feels nice, it feels right, and feels like you’ve done it every day for your entire life?”

Doctor Colby nodded. “You mean similar to a habit?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Beau is the good kind of habit. I find a serene part of my soul when we’re together, one that feels more whole.”

She frowned. “Do you feel that he is what makes you whole?”

This was a test, I knew that, but luckily the truth I knew would pass. “No.” I shook my head. “I don’t believe Beau makes me whole, but I believe that in his peace, I’ve found some of my own,” I told her.

“Inner peace is a very rewarding feeling.”

I nodded. “He just sees me, and with no explanation, he accepts that. It’s quite uncanny.”

“Do you believe now that people are capable of so much more than an expendable high, Charleston?”

Looking up from the cup, I moved my eyes over her office. “I’m trying too.”

She seemed appeased with that.

“And what about”—she glanced back a few pages in her notes—“Maverick?”

My eyes rolled and she caught it. She caught everything. “What was that for, just now?”

I sighed. “Maverick is… Well, he’s the very opposite. He’s difficult in every way.”

“Do you enjoy that?”

I drew my eyes to the framed photo on her desk. “Yes, I think so.”

“Why do you think you enjoy that?” she asked.

Crossing my legs, I then uncrossed them, my nervous therapy habit.

The answer came to me quickly, however. “It’s just in his nature. He challenges me.”

I lifted my head to look her in the eyes. “He’s so unpredictable. It’s like he forces me to grow. If I don’t adapt, he’d swallow me whole, and I guess I thought that would scare me, but it doesn’t really.”

“Why do you think it doesn’t scare you?” she inquired.

“He doesn’t treat me like I’m made of porcelain.” I thought about it. “He treats me like I can take him, like I’m just as strong as he is, and if I broke, he’d expect me to put myself back together again.”

I heard Henry’s voice in my head and I smiled. “He’s the man who should scare me the most, but he’s the one man who doesn’t scare me at all.”

Doctor Colby tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”

“I become a fearless part of me when I’m around him.” I looked at her. “No one can hurt me, not even me.”

She scribbled something down, and mumbled, “Interesting.”

I waited for her head to come back up.

“And Dean?”

My stomach knotted in the way that it always did when someone said his name.

“Dean is…” I struggled with the words. “Well, Dean is the middle, I guess.”

She waited for me to continue.

“There’s so much water under the bridge there.” I twisted my hands in my lap. “I guess at first I thought it was about closure, that somehow I’d feel differently after finding out what happened, and to a certain degree, I do… but then…” I winced. “We slept together, and that changed everything.”

Doctor Colby didn’t react for two reasons. One, it was her job to remain impartial, and two, she already knew I’d slept with Dean.

I had but one secret from her.

“Why do you think that changed everything, Charleston?” she asked. “Why do you feel like the need for closure didn’t end there?”

My mind worked double time, seeing flashes of him on my floor that night. “I couldn’t forgive him.” I shook my head. “He wanted my forgiveness, and I couldn’t forgive him.”

“Do you feel burdened by that?”

I rubbed my palms down the tops of my thighs. “Yes.” I nodded. “I want to be able to give him that, but I can’t.”

A tear slid down my cheek and darkened the blue of my denim jeans.

“Forgiveness doesn’t have a road map, Charleston, and neither does letting go.”

I choked on the lump in my throat.

“I think what’s important to remember is that you’re trying, and that is a very brave thing to do.”

Swiping at the tears with the back of my hand, I lifted my eyes to look into hers.

To tell her the one truth I’d kept from her in all these years.

“Henry talks to me.” I started to cry a little harder. “I hear his voice in my head sometimes.”

Her face drew the tell-tale signs of sympathy. “Oh, Charleston. For how long?”

“Since he left me,” I divulged. “It’s not like when I have memories of him. Those are different. But sometimes he talks to me.” I winced. “Am I crazy?”

Standing up, she moved and sat down on the table across from me. “Is that what you’ve thought all this years?”

I nodded.

It couldn’t be normal to hear the voice of your dead brother so often.

“Sometimes, our subconscious develops a way to help us through difficult times,” she started. “We all hear voices to a certain extent. Some of us hear our mothers reminding us not to eat that second piece of cake. Some of us hear our grandparents reminding us to smile. Some of us hear our teachers reminding us to study. It’s how the human brain copes with everything it’s seen.”

The tears came a little quicker now. “I’m not crazy?”

“No, Charleston. You’re not crazy. Your subconscious took on the voice of Henry, because you trusted him and you loved him.” I hiccupped. “The person you’re really hearing from is you.”

I broke down and leaned forward into her hug.

I wasn’t crazy, but I was sad.

It meant that Henry was still gone.

“I miss him,” I sobbed into her.

She rubbed my back and whispered, “And that won’t ever go away.”

“Will it get easier?”

Squeezing my upper arms, she pulled me back to look at her. “It may never get easier, but you will get better at managing it, Charleston. With all this work you are doing, you will get better at letting go.”

I prayed she was right.

“Grief is unpractised emotion. There’s no way to prepare yourself for it,” she said. “You just have to ride the wave and find your own way to make peace with that.”

“I’m trying,” I promised.

And for the first time in my adult life, I meant it.

I was trying like hell to find me in all the rubble of my suffering.

Our session concluded, and I confirmed my appointment for the following week with Maureen, also taking the time to advise her of the days I would be in Mexico.

Then, I walked one block from Doctor Colby’s office building to the small tree lot they’d set up on the corner. It didn’t take long to find a tree, this one as per Leighton’s request, but maybe a little less pathetic and larger than she’d have liked. The family running the lot seemed thrilled with my choice of the ugly tree.

“If I bring my car around, will you load it for me?” I asked the man.

He smiled. “Sure thing, Miss.”

It took me about fifteen minutes to walk back to the building, head down to the garage, and pull my Range Rover up the block. We struggled for a minute, eventually needing to lay the backseat down just to fit the poor spruce in there. After ten minutes, we succeeded, and I was on my way to the store in search of decorations.

I didn’t have any at home, given my growing dislike of the season, or if I did, I hadn’t a clue where they were and I always spent Christmas with my parents. They had a spectacular tree.

Settling on a tree stand, a few boxes of gold bulbs, some white lights, and a star for the top, I was on my way home. It was a weekend, and shouldn’t have taken quite so long to make the drive to my building, but for some reason, every winter season, the entire city forgot how to drive in the snow.

I mean, we lived in Canada, in a city that got so much precipitation year-round we could solely support the rain boot trade, but still, everyone acted as though they’d never seen rain or snow before.

Turning the engine off, I slid from my seat and popped open the backdoor, looking at the tree.

I leaned in, grabbing it by the trunk, and pulled. I underestimated the weight, my hands slipped, and I fell ass first into the slush on the road.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” I looked up to see Dean standing on the sidewalk, arms crossed over his chest and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’re still here?” I groaned, using my hands to stand up, but soaking them in the process.

He laughed at my predicament. “I was about to leave until I saw you.”

“Lucky me.” I was being prickly.

Walking off the curb, he looked into my SUV and wrapped his hands around the trunk. He dragged it like it weighed nothing and set it down between us.

“You want some help?” he asked.

“I’m dating,” I blurted.

Apparently, I did a lot of that today where Dean was concerned.

“Okay.” He looked over the tree at me, clearly bemused.

“I just wanted you to know I’m dating,” I clarified, wiping my wet hands on my jeans.

“You’re dating,” he repeated.

“I’m dating.” I nodded. “You’re offering to help me with my tree, so I just thought you should know I’m dating.”

“Well, all right then.” He shook his head, still laughing. “You’re dating.”

Dean didn’t wait for me to say anything else. Instead, he heaved the tree into the air and started walking towards the entrance to my building.

I scrambled, grabbing the bags of decorations and my purse before chasing after him. He didn’t have to wait though; he punched in his own obviously temporary access code for the building and motioned for me to open the door.

“Oh, right,” I mumbled lamely, and held it open as he, and my ugly tree, went inside.

It was hard not to think of all the great Christmas’ we’d had together before things got bad. Watching him all grown up and dragging that god-awful tree into the elevator, I remembered a time when I thought this was how I’d spend every Christmas for the rest of my life.

With him, and our children, and Henry.

Time could do a lot of damage to a dream.

The three of us, me, Dean, and my Charlie Brown tree, shoved into the elevator as the doors closed.

“This is kind of an ugly tree.” He chuckled, and I glared through the branches at him.

“It’s a Charlie Brown tree,” I defended the greenery.

He looked down at the tree and then back at me. “Isn’t it a bit big to be a Charlie Brown tree?”

“Shut up,” I said, as I stepped out onto my floor.

Running ahead of him, I unlocked the door and held it open while he brought the tree inside.

“Where do you want it?” Dean asked.

I looked around the room and pointed between two of the windows. “Over there.”

He laid my tree on the ground and stood over it, assessing. “You got a tree stand in one of those bags?”

Dropping the bags on the ground, I rummaged through them and pulled out the green stand I’d purchased. “Here.” I held it out to him.

Kneeling down, I watched as he began expertly affixing it to the bottom of the tree.

“Where’s Alycia today?” I blurted.

I was going to have to work on that.

The side of his profile tipped up and I could tell he was smiling. “She’s with her grandparents. Brooke’s parents,” he clarified, though he knew he didn’t have too. I knew Dean had no family.

“That’s nice that they help out,” I said, as I watched him.

He finished attaching the stand. “Yeah. They’re good people. Lucky to have ‘em.”

“Mmm,” I mumbled.

“Okay.” He looked at me. “I’m going to lift the tree up. I need you to stand over there and tell me if it’s straight.”

I nodded and moved to where he pointed.

Dean lifted the tree up, and I yelled over to him, “Looks straight to me.”

He let go, and to no one’s surprise, the tree remained upright.

“You’re all set, then.” He rounded the tree and smiled at me.

Suddenly, I felt awkward. I was reminded of our moment in the stairwell this morning and the fact he was now in my apartment.

“Uh. Thanks,” I mumbled.

He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I better get going. Alycia’s waitin’ on me.”

I waited until he started moving towards the door and followed a few paces behind him.