What's Left of Me (Finally Unbroken Book 2) (6 page)

“I’m so tired this morning, why are you dragging me here again?” Amber moans as she sits next to me on the bus. When I smile in response, she rolls her eyes and puts her earphones in, I can just hear the tinny noise pumping out, probably scarring her eardrums. Amber turns into a typical teen if you wake her before eight am. Today, I want her help at the community center. She never complains, the place was home for her until she moved in with me, plus helping out there added to her gaining the scholarship.

I made the mistake of telling her about Ruben’s visit. Her initial feelings were of anger. They were spat out through her mouthful of chili… it was absolutely delightful. When I explained that he had offered to help out with the seniors, her feelings toward him softened some. Then she threw me completely, when, after telling her how Ruben said he thought I still had issues to work through, Amber told me flat out the she agreed with him. Before she went to bed last night, while I was making lunch for today, I told her that I needed her help at the center. She shook her head smirking, then walked over and sat down next to me, patted my hand like I was a scared child and said,
‘I’ll protect you’
then she winked, giggled to herself, and walked off to bed. My mouth hung open, and I stammered trying to say something, anything. Nothing came out. This morning, her reaction wasn’t quite as helpful as she pulled the covers over her head, and told me to deal with Ruben on my own. That I was a big girl and she needed to sleep. I managed to drag her up, but she’s been grumpy ever since.

“Morning, your man’s here,” Sarah tells me the minute I walk into the center. She has an unmistakable twinkle in her eye.

Amber huffs out and follows through with yet another eye roll. “I’m going to dump my stuff and then head to the games room,” she grumbles.

“Morning Sarah, good to see you,” Sarah says to Amber with heavy sarcasm.

I watch as Amber’s shoulders drop and she turns around, a sheepish look on her face. “Sorry Sarah, morning,” she replies with a small, embarrassed grin that makes one of her dimples pop out. The she rushes off, and I look back at Sarah, who bursts into laughter.

“You’re gonna miss that one when she goes.” The smile on her face vanishes as she takes in my reaction to her words. “Sorry baby. I forget that when she goes, it’s not gonna be easy on you.”

I bite my bottom lip and hold my hand up to her, indicating I need a second to compose myself. “It doesn’t matter…” I croak out, “…she’s going to be amazing, and this will be the start of the life she’s always deserved. I’m over the moon for her.” My words linger like wasps in the air, and I’m waiting for the sting to come.

“I know what you’re saying is true, but I also know you, honey. I can see in your eyes the struggle that you’re constantly fighting when it comes to Amber leaving. You’ve built your life around her for the last two years, I’m not sure you’re ready for her to go. Telling yourself that you are, and actually feeling that way, are two different things.” Sarah’s words are kind, they’re meant to be a comfort blanket, soothing away my ailments, but all they do is serve to bring everything I’m trying to avoid thinking about up to the surface.

“Where’s Ruben?” My change in both topic and tone causes a reaction in Sarah. It’s only a small head movement, and probably unnoticeable to most, but I catch it. Sarah is the master of disguise. Being a counselor she needs to hide her emotions, and when the topic is serious, she’s been known to mask reactions extremely well. The fact that I just caused a recoil from her, however small, tells me what I already don’t want to know. My avoidance issues have hit an all-time high, even I know that the end is near. I need to face what’s coming and get ready to sort all the crap out in my head. Because if I don’t, the demons I live with aren’t going to just surface, they’re going to take over, and I’m not sure there’ll be anything of me left behind when they do.

“He’s in the rec room with the seniors.”

I blink twice and look at Sarah, trying to remember what question I’d asked her. When my thoughts catch up, I nod. As I walk away, she grabs my arm and I turn back to her.

A look of unmistakable concern covers her face and she offers me a small smile. “I’m here. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.” I pull in my eyebrows, but nod once again before turning, needing to find Ruben.

“So what happened then?” Ruben’s excited voice carries down the corridor, hitting me in the chest, making my body sway. As I approach the door, I slow and come to a stop. Leaning against the doorframe, without even really understanding what I’m doing, I watch Ruben and Mr. Pallor.

“Well, we ran,” Mr. Pallor replies with a chuckle. The usually quiet, elderly, somewhat frail man, is now animated. His eyes sparkle and his arms have taken on a life of their own. The thin, almost see through skin, covering the back of his hands, the blood spots dotted across his wrists and the sunken, nearly skeletal look of his face have all been forgotten. Disappeared amongst the stories of yesteryear. I feel my heart warm, but decide to leave them be. The seniors need someone new to listen to them.

As I walk away, I think about how Mr. Pallor is different to the others. Dementia has taken a hold of him, stripping his memories, his independence, and sometimes his dignity. It’s a truly vile disease, and I can’t imagine how he feels when the moments of clarity break through. It’s the people connected to him, who have to watch the suffering that I sometimes feel sorrier for. Having to live through your loved one being ripped from your life… from
their own
life, must be heart-breaking.

The times he’s been clear minded, he’s managed to talk to me. He’s told me his truths, explained how trapped he is inside his own shell, his prison. That he’s a stranger to himself and feeling scared is an almost constant for him. The majority of his time these days is spent not recognizing anyone, anything, or anywhere. He said, sometimes he wishes, those moments he sinks back into the real world, would stop happening. That they can be more painful than anything. It’s in those moments, his brain clicks onto the fact that everything else was a lie. He said what’s worse, is that he knows he’s heading right back underwater, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“Hey Laurie, can you help me with something?” Marco, one of the boys who frequents the center asks, pulling me from my sad thoughts as I climb the stairs.

“Yeah, sure. What do you need?” I ask looking up at the top of the stairs, into his worried brown eyes, as I take my last few steps.

“You know I’ve been trying to do my GED? Well, I’m struggling and I can’t fuck this up, Laurie,” he says passing his work to me, which I start looking at.

“Language,” I chastise with a sideways glance.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Marco answers.

Shit, how old am I? When did I become a ma’am?

“Okay, listen. I could help you, but honestly, between work here and the fact that I’m just not that good, I’m probably not your best bet.” I chuckle. “It’s been many years since I’ve been to school. And let me tell you, I scraped by the first time, only with the help of my sister.” My mirth dies down as I think about Larissa. A pang rumbles in my stomach—it’s the realization that I don’t remember her every day anymore. I shake my head, hoping to push out the thoughts. “Listen, Amber is somewhere here. Go look for her. You know she’ll help,” I tell him and watch as his eyes sparkle. All the boys that come here have a thing for Amber. At once he nods, mumbles his thanks and spins around walking off to find her.

“Ah-hmm,” I semi cough out, trying to mask my laughter.

Looking over his shoulder, Marco’s tanned cheeks redden slightly as he shuffles back, relieving me of his paperwork, before rushing away again.

Two hours later, and the mountain of paperwork I found in the small admin office is now more of a hill. Sighing and rubbing my temples, my immediate thoughts are of coffee. After filling my cup, I remember Ruben. I’m not sure if he’s still here, but I decide to go find out. Putting my cup down and automatically walking back to where he was earlier, I see he’s moved positions, now sitting on the old man’s other side. The other five seniors are all sitting facing Mr. Pallor too. Although, I think they’re more interested in Ruben.

“Then they appeared from the back of the holding cells and we didn’t know what to do,” the old man tells Ruben, who could easily be his grandson.

“So what happened then?” Ruben asks eagerly.

“Well, we ran,” Mr. Pallor replies with a chuckle. That moment it dawns on me that Ruben is listening to the same story again. Maybe for the hundredth time, still holding the same interest and excitement on his face that he did when I saw it being relayed to him earlier. I step back from the door, my heartbeat causing a whooshing in my ears. The compassion that he so obviously feels winds me, and I need a moment. Sliding down the wall and bringing my knees up to my chest, I’m glad the hallway is empty. I take deep breaths trying desperately not to think about Ruben, but he’s taken over my mind.

“Dammit,” I whisper to myself.

The more time I spend with this man, the more I realize it’s like he’s been created just for me. Every part of him specifically picked to suit my needs and wants. That also means, though, knowing how much he’s been through, and that he could never love someone again—those words coming from his own mouth—that I’m setting myself up for one monumental fall. And if I lose someone else I love… I’m not sure I’d recover.
Not again.

Ronnie tells me his story again. I assume the name he’s given me is correct, but I also know Dementia causes a lot of truths to be forgotten. The story of Ronnie’s time in World War Two, can’t be the only one he has, but it’s the only one he’s sharing. I’ve listened to him tell me it seven times in the last two hours. It’s only in the past thirty minutes that the other seniors have started to take an interest in what’s going on. I assume they’ve heard the repeated story and, therefore, switch off. I’ve spoken briefly to Mildred, who wouldn’t give me her full name, insisting I call her Mildred so as not to make her feel old. The other four seniors, all women, are very quiet. They seemed bored when I came in, now they seem to be watchful, inquisitive. Not enough to partake in the conversation, though.

“I’m going to get a coffee Ronnie, you want one?” I ask the man who was just alight with pleasure. Now he sits there staring out of the window, like an empty vessel. It chokes me up. My mom is like this now too.
I should see her more often.
Shaking my head and offer coffee to everyone else, who all decline, so I move out of the room almost falling over a body crouched on the floor.

“Laurie?” I ask, surprised.

She looks up to me, her eyes are wide, some of her dark hair is stuck to her face. She looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights, and if it’s possible, it makes her even more appealing.

“Ruben.” The soft tone of her voice flows out as a whisper. I hold my arm out to her and she slips her small hand into mine. Pulling her up to me, there’s less than an inch between us. I recognize right then that I want to kiss this woman, and maybe never stop. Our eyes are helping us engage in a standoff as we gaze at one another. When I can take no more, my feet maneuver me a step back, giving us both space. Laurie blinks and seems to gather her thoughts.

“I was… coffee, do you want a coffee?” she rushes the words out.

I rub the back of my neck and try to suppress a smile, everything about this woman causes a reaction in me. “Yeah, that’s where I was heading, too.”

Nodding, Laurie spins around and makes her way to the break room that Sarah took me to earlier. She walks silently, and I can just imagine the thoughts that are going through her head, trying to organize them and construct them in such a way, so that she can keep me at arm’s length.

“So, who’s Amber?” I ask.

Her step falters, but she quickly corrects it. “Who told you about Amber?” she replies not turning around to face me.

“Sarah, but she wouldn’t say anymore. Said it was your story to tell,” I reply.

Laurie doesn’t say anything more, and I think that’s it. That she’s not going to share. However, once we have our coffees and have taken a seat, Laurie rests her elbows on her knees and leans forward. Her shoulders drop and she lets out a sigh. “She was a runaway. Kept being placed in children’s homes and continuously leaving. We found her in the doorway one day, half-starved and freezing. Once we got her sorted out, the system wanted to suck her right back in. I kept her with me for longer than I was allowed. The authorities found out, and that’s when Sarah stepped in. She has friends over in adoptive services. Between them, they managed to swing it so she could stay in my care, with extremely close monitoring.” She looks up to my face now as she bites her lip. “She’s been a crutch for me, and I’m only just working that out now. The other thing I’ve worked out very recently is that apparently everyone can see just how damaged I am. I’ve been trying to kid myself for so long…” Laurie stops talking and drops her head again. I’m at a loss, unsure what I’m supposed to do. This is what I wanted, for her to admit that she has issues, to face them, to overcome them. I still don’t know why it’s so important to me? Why I want to help so badly? Why I can even
see
her issues? Now she has admitted it, though, I’m stuck. I don’t know which direction to take.

“Doesn’t matter,” I hear her whisper, and it sends a bolt of anger through me. Annoyed with myself for not doing the one thing I have been asking… to be there for her.

“Fuck it!” I slam my hand down on the table and Laurie’s head jerks up.

“What?” Her eyebrows shoot skyward, worry mixed with confusion covers her face.

“I’m taking you out tonight,” I tell her.

“W-what?” she stammers.

“Simple. I’ve known you for over two years, Laurie, but I don’t really
know
you. Tonight, that changes. And it’s not just me that’s going to learn all about you, Laurie. Tonight I want
you,
to get to know
the real you
. I have a feeling that you don’t really have the first clue about yourself, about who you really are, or what you really want. I’d bet that you’ve lived for everyone else almost your whole life. I’m gonna help you make that change, and I’m gonna help you live for
you
.”

When I see the tears that well in her eyes, I know I’ve hit a nerve. She ignores the lone tear that rolls down her cheek, instead biting her lip as the corners of her mouth tip up in a small smile. Then she nods. It’s the only response I get before I watch her silently walk out of the room.

“You ready?” My voice startles Laurie, who seems to be in her own head as she stares out of the office window a few hours later.

“Huh?” she replies, tilting her head.

“It’s after four, I’m taking you for dinner,” I tell her.

“Oh, yeah, right,” she mumbles back. “Wait, no. I don’t normally leave here until after six and I eat even later than that. There’s so much to do still, I can’t leave yet.”

“No arguing. You deserve an early finish. I’ve already told Sarah that I’m taking you for dinner, and she’s gonna drop Amber back home.”

“What? You don’t even know Sarah, and yet you’re organizing my life through her?” The growl that comes out of her mouth surprises me. When we interacted all that time ago, even though for a lot of it I was drunk, or angry and therefore ignored her, she never—that I remember—got angry that much. Quickly pushing past her mood, I smile.

Her scowl drops, as she lets her eyes move over my face. “You’re so h—” She stops mid-sentence, but I let it slide.

“Come on, you need to eat,” I say pointing to her tiny frame. With no reply, she stands and grabs her purse. I lead her out of the center and to my car, opening the door for her to get in. All the while, not a word is spoken.

It’s not until we’re ten minutes along in our journey that the silence is broken. “Where are we going?” Her voice is quiet, almost timid, even though I know that she’s not.

“To my apartment.”

“What?”

My reply obviously shocks her, if her replied screech is anything to go by. “I figured you know I’m not an axe murderer. I thought it would be nice going somewhere quiet, peaceful, a place where we could talk or just kick back.” My answer is only part truth. I did want to go somewhere quiet so we could talk. However, the real reason I picked my place is because I know that Laurie doesn’t have much money. She may not have something suitable to wear at such short notice for a nice restaurant, and I know she’d try and pay for her half… even though there’s no way in hell I’d let her. I don’t want to put her in an awkward position, and I don’t give one shit what she wears or where we are. As long as I can spend time with this woman, I will. I want to know everything, and tonight that mission officially starts.