Totaled (6 page)

“I heard one of the lifeguards talking about it,” she responded, puffing out her chest proudly. “I always wondered if it actually would work.”

“Yeah. It’s much better. Thank you for doing that.” The pain was still there, but dulled significantly. Red, raised welts were forming everywhere the creature was in contact with my skin, scaring us both, but she helped me stand up and walk back towards her mother.

“Sure. You would have done it for me too. You’re my best friend forever, Bree. I’ll always be there for you. To rescue you from jellyfish or whatever else.”

“Promise?” I asked her hopefully.

“I swear.”

From that day forward, we were inseparable. We seldom had to use our code word, but whenever we did, it was just understood. No matter what you were doing, no matter what time of day or night, if the other said “jellyfish,” you dropped what you were doing and ran to help the other. No questions asked, no hesitation. “Jellyfish” was the signal for life or death.

Recalling the significance of that day many summers ago and the meaning and weight of using that word pissed me off to no end. I was awake and livid. Along with realizing that she was probably minutes away from coming over and waking up the entire house, I wanted to rip into her more than I have ever before. I selected her number from my speed dial favorites list. Two rings later, her cheery voice broke over the line.

“Good morning!” she all but screamed to me.

“What the fuck, Sue? What is wrong with you? You’d better be dying!” I shouted into the receiver.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong. Did you get my texts?”

“YES! How could I not get them? You sent me 37 of them! And it is 3:30 in the morning. You scared me half to death! And then, to say ‘jellyfish’ to me? Are you insane?”

“Thirty-seven?! Wow, that’s impressive.” Only this wackadoo would be proud of herself for managing 37 middle of the night texts. “I’m sorry I scared you. I just couldn’t even sleep. I feel so bad for yesterday. I was really awful to you and I just needed to apologize,” she pleaded. “I realize that I was being really selfish and I am so sorry.”

“And you thought the best way to apologize for being rude and selfish to me was to wake me up in the middle of the night? That doesn’t seem selfish at all,” I pointed out with heavy sarcasm.

“Well, I guess when you put it that way. Okay, so I didn’t think this through enough. I am sorry, though. I’ll let you go back to sleep and we’ll talk about this later,” she said, sounding proud of herself.

“Oh, no you don’t! I’m up now and so are you! Get over here. There’s no way I’m going to be able to go back to sleep now. Get dressed and drive your sorry little ass over here. You can make it up to me by joining me on my morning jog!”

“WHAT? No, no, no,” she protested. “I don’t run. Like ever. You know that. Unless something is chasing me, threatening my life. I don’t even own a pair of running shoes,” she scoffed. “You can’t be serious, Bree.”

“I’m dead serious. You woke me up and now you’ll pay. You can make it up to me by running with me this morning. You have fifteen minutes to get over here dressed and ready to run, or else!” I threatened without an ounce of trepidation in my voice.

She was starting to say something about just slowing me down and being out of shape when I hit END on the call. I smiled. This was going to be hilarious. And fun!

Chapter Six

DREW

I lay in bed for hours trying to calm myself down, a strange myriad of emotions running through me all at once. Embarrassment that I had a nightmare in a stranger’s home and had actually disturbed her sleep. Sorrow for my dead mother that I missed dearly. Loneliness, which no one could possibly understand because no one knew just what I was going through. Anger that I allowed my asshole of a father to destroy my world. Determination to work harder, train stronger, and make something of myself in the MMA world, for me, but also to spite my father, who constantly told me that I would never be anything but a fuck up. A dizzying sense of warmth for Joan and Mick, who not only opened their home up to a stranger and provided help in a time of need, but also for Joan being there in the middle of the night with a smile and a comforting hug. She didn’t know what she was walking into, yet she blazed forward into that dark bedroom with soothing words and a calming touch like only a mother could offer. I really had to get myself together. And I had to get out of here.

With a heavy heart and somber pace, I walked down the hall into the guest bathroom to find two fresh towels, a wash cloth, and an unopened bar of Irish Spring soap piled up on the counter for me. Humbled by the sweet gesture, I smiled. These people really were just genuinely nice. I got into the shower with the intention of being quick, but found myself just standing there relishing how great the hot water felt pelting over my body. I hadn’t taken a real shower in days. I washed my hair with whatever shampoo was on the shelf and lathered up the soap, immediately thinking of my mother when the scent hit me. She always bought me Irish Spring soap. She said she liked the smell, that it was pleasant but still manly. And we were Irish, of course, she used to joke. I missed her so much. My heart ached at the realization that I would never hear her voice again. I would never feel her tiny arms wrap around my wide shoulders in a hug. I would never see her warm smile, with slightly crooked top teeth, reach her eyes as she laughed. I started to get teary right there in the shower and willed myself to snap out of it. I finished bathing and got out, quickly noticing why Joan had provided two towels. One wouldn’t even wrap all the way around me. I guess she noticed that I’m kind of a big guy. I chuckled and finished drying off. I secured the towels around my waist, making sure everything was covered, and walked back down to the room where I had slept. Digging a pair of clean-ish cargo shorts out of my bag, I dragged them on over my boxer briefs. I noticed that the majority of my clothes were gone. I was searching for a t-shirt, wondering what the hell happened to my stuff, when I heard a gentle knock on the bedroom door.

“Come in.”

In walked Joan. She sat on the foot of the bed, which I had already made before taking a shower, and looked up at me as if she was waiting on me to say something.

“Thank you for the towels, and the soap. That was sweet. I guess you smelled that I could use a proper shower, huh?” I asked with light humor in my voice, trying to break the ice.

“Nonsense, hun, I was just being hospitable. Did you find everything else you needed?” she questioned.

“Oh, yes, ma’am. I just need to get to the store and buy some disposable razors. My electric one died yesterday morning after my shave at the rest stop. This stubble will get thick pretty quick,” I confessed.

“I’m sure we have extras around here. I’ll track one down for you and you can use some of Mick’s shaving cream. And I threw most of your clothes in the wash already.”

“Thank you so much, Joan. You’ve been so kind to me. I can’t possibly thank you enough,” I said with sincere appreciation. The tension from the elephant in the room was uncomfortable. I could see in Joan’s expression that she wanted to ask me about the dream, but didn’t want to push. “I’ll be getting out of your hair soon. I think it’s best that I get a room at the closest hotel. I feel awful about waking you up last night,” I explained, ashamed.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, son,” she said, patting my hand in a compassionate gesture. “You didn’t bother me a bit. I just came in to make sure you were okay. What were you dreaming about, anyway? It sounded dreadful.”

“Oh nothing. I can’t even really remember the details,” I responded, lowering my head at the lie. “I just have nightmares sometimes.”

“Well, if you ever want to talk about it, or anything at all, I’m a good listener,” she offered, seeing right through me. She gave a kind smile and her eyes lowered to my chest, which I realized was still shirtless. She paused, staring at the tattoo over my heart. “What does your tattoo mean?”

“It is a Celtic knot, the symbol for mother or motherhood.
Tá grá agam duit
means ‘I love you’ in Gaelic,” I explained. “My mother always used to say it to me.”

“Used to?”

“Yes, ma’am. She passed away a few months ago,” I replied, almost whispering because it was painful to say out loud.

Joan smiled wide. “Will you say it again?”

“
Tá grá agam duit
,” I answered, sounding like “taw graw oggum gwitch.”

“It’s beautiful, Drew. That’s a very special thing to have shared that between the two of you. I’m so very sorry to hear that she’s no longer with you,” she said sadly, and lowered her head, grieving right along with me.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I responded.
Please don’t ask me how she died.

“Well, I’ll leave you to finish getting dressed. Breakfast is almost ready downstairs. I made a breakfast casserole,” she said excitedly as she left the room and headed down the hall.

Thank Christ. That was close.

A few minutes later, I sat down at the table next to Mick, just where I was seated the previous night for dinner. He lowered his newspaper and smiled at me, picking his paper right back up to finish reading whatever he was in the middle of.

“Breakfast smells delicious, Joan!” I exclaimed. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Nope. Just sit there and look handsome. It’s almost done. Would you like coffee, milk, or orange juice?” she proposed.

“Coffee sounds great, thank you. I didn’t sleep very well last night, as you heard. Again, I’m so sorry about that,” I apologized.

“Now, now, I told you already, it’s not a big deal at all. Cream and sugar?”

“Oh, uh, yes please. Both,” I replied appreciatively. This was the nicest “hotel” I’d ever stayed at.

Mick set his paper down and folded it up crudely. He took a sip of his coffee, which he was drinking out of some sort of Mason jar with a handle. After clearing his throat, he looked over to me. “I spoke to Bubba already this mornin’ ‘bout your truck. Most of the parts ain’t gonna be here ‘til this afternoon, so it won’t be ready ‘til late tomorrow, if not the next day. So, since we got a day or two to kill, I figured you maybe could help a middle-aged man with a bad back with some repairs I’ve been aiming to get to on my fence.”

“Yes, sir, I’d be happy to help you with anything you need me to do. Although I don’t know much about fences.”

“Aww, that’s quite all right. I’ll tell ya what to do. I just need yer muscle, which you don’t look to be lacking,” he barked, laughing at himself.

“No, sir, I’m pretty strong, I guess.”

“You a body builder or somethin’?” he asked, appraising me seriously.

“Oh no. I fight. I mean, I’m a fighter. Mixed Martial Arts,” I explained.

“Like them boys on them UFC fights?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, exactly like that. In fact, I’m training now to try to get onto the national circuit. I hope to fight in the UFC one day soon. I’ve been trying to go pro for about two years now.”

“Well, ain’t that somethin’! You hear that, Joan? We got ourselves a bonafide MMA badass right here in our kitchen!” he boasted.

“You watch your mouth, Mick!” Joan snapped back.

“You’re never gonna believe this, but a good friend of mine that I grew up with owns and runs an MMA gym in Fernandina. You should meet him!” he offered with glee in his voice.

“Fernandina?”

“Yeah, Fernandina Beach. It’s ‘bout an hour from here. Nice little small town right on the water in between St. Simon’s Island and Jacksonville. Matter a fact, you should just go there instead of Daytona. I mean, you said so yourself that you just wanted a fresh start somewhere where there’s ocean. I think you’d really like it there. It’s calm, quiet, real purdy, and my friend Pat can set you up with getting back into yer training at his gym,” he said, promise all over his face. “What have you got to lose? If it’s not the right fit, you can just drive down to Daytona like ya planned.”

I thought about his offer. I couldn’t believe these people were for real. They didn’t even know me, yet they were extending themselves to help me over and over again. I didn’t know what I did to deserve the help, but I was definitely appreciative. It was like this nice couple was just here at the right time and the right place, like guardian angels in a sense. I couldn’t say no. I mean, he actually knew someone who owned an MMA gym in a small beach town not far from here! I at least had to check it out. Mick was right. If I didn’t like it, I could always leave. I was finally free to do whatever I wanted to do. At the very least, his friend Pat probably had some contacts elsewhere for me to talk to if I did plan on traveling further south.

“I would love to meet him,” I answered firmly. “Fernandina Beach it is.”

“Well I’ll be. I’ll call him later today then,” he said as he offered his right hand out to me. I shook it firmly and nodded my head in appreciation.

We all sat together and ate breakfast, which was outrageously good. Stick to your ribs hearty. If I did end up in Fernandina and ever needed to gain a few pounds to make weight for a fight, I was coming back here for Joan’s cooking.

The conversation was carefree and casual as we finished breakfast. I rinsed all of our dishes off in the sink, until Joan came up behind me and insisted that I let her take care of cleaning up. I followed Mick out to their backyard and was surprised at the sight that greeted my eyes. Acre after acre of beautifully landscaped pasture lay before me. I slowly walked forward on the wooden deck and sauntered down the steps, staring out, in awe of it all. Counting four horses right away, I couldn’t help my jaw from dropping in amazement.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Mick asked from behind me.

“Yes, sir. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“This here is my happy place. I’ve always loved to ride, but never really had time until I retired. Now this is what I do every day. It’s my hobby, I guess. I work on the house, the yard, and take care of my babies,” he said, walking over to one of the horses. He made some sort of clicking sound with his mouth, as if to call the horse over, and sure enough, it turned and started to gallop towards us, slowing down as it reached Mick. He held his hand out to rub over the nose and I could do nothing but stare. I was frozen, partially in fear of what my brain perceived as a powerful beast that could end my life with one swift kick to the sternum, and also in admiration of the beauty that was this graceful creature. Mick seemed to almost have it under his spell. They obviously had a relationship and bond with each other filled with trust and comfort.