“But . . .”
“But, I think she’s got a chip on her shoulder about Symphony.”
“What, it was too nice?”
“I think everyone had too much money. She wasn’t a fan.”
“Well, those houses are enormous. I know a lot of people are surprised to see families with so much money in Bridgeport.”
He shrugged. “Maybe.” After taking another sip, he looked at his sister. Then he remembered her big day. She’d been planning to go buy a cookbook at a store. That was huge. And he’d forgotten all about it until just that minute! “Jennifer, I can’t believe I didn’t call you. How did your outing go?”
“Well . . . it could have gone better.”
Again, he wished he would have remembered to at least text her. “What happened? Wait, did you choose not to get out of the house?” Choose had been a deliberate choice. Her counselor had cautioned him to do his best to not sound judgmental or overbearing.
It had definitely been a learning curve. It was in his nature to take charge. He’d absolutely had to learn how to choose his words carefully and remember to let her be the one guiding her progress.
“No, I left the house. And I did drive over to Backdoor Books. That went fine. And I even got out of the car. So that was a win, too.”
“Good girl.” He looked at her carefully. “And . . .”
She sighed. “And then, right when I was entering the store, I kind of ran into a guy.”
“What do you mean? Jen, what did he do?” He inwardly winced. Looked like his attempt to choose his words carefully had already gone out the window.
“He was holding a cup of hot coffee and a puppy . . . and the puppy squirmed and the coffee spilled.” She held out her leg.
He just then noticed that she was wearing shorts with a thick sweatshirt and socks. And that she had a three- or four-inch burn on her leg. It was bright red and had blistered.
She was hurt. Again.
Every bit of helplessness and fury that he’d felt when she’d been attacked two years ago came back tenfold. “Who the hell was this guy? Do you have a name?”
“It was no one to worry about, Dylan. He was just a guy trying to manage a puppy, a door, and a hot cup of coffee.”
She was right. He needed to calm down and not make things worse. “Okay. So, what happened when he knocked into you?”
“He felt bad and called for his mom.”
“His mom? How old was this guy?” Again, his mind went jumping from one conclusion to the next. Wait, it was a kid?”
She laughed. “No, the guy was about our age, but it turned out that his mother owned the shop. The dog plopped down on the floor and he wanted his mom to help me get cleaned up.”
“Oh. So, did you let her?”
Twin spots of pink appeared on her cheeks. “Not exactly. When I knelt down to pet the puppy, he got on his knees, too. Jack was trying to make sure the puppy didn’t jump on my calf, but being on the floor with him . . .” She looked stricken.
“You had a flashback,” he finished for her. He’d gone through quite a few of those with her during the first four or five months after her attack. Little noises or movements would set her off.
She nodded. “Yeah. He was too close. I thought he was going to touch me. Or, at least it seemed like he was. I freaked out and ran out the door.”
“Oh, Jen.”
“I know. I had all these grand plans, but all that happened was I got burned by hot coffee and made a fool of myself in public.”
“I’m really sorry.” Her big day had been a fiasco. “How about I take you on my next day off?”
“No.”
“Jennifer, I won’t crowd you or anything. If you want, we can even go in separately. I’ll just be there in case something happens.”
“Like I freak out when I’m on the floor petting a puppy?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
So, it was done. She was going to give up. Even though the counselor’s voice was ringing in his ear and offering all kinds of advice, he couldn’t hold back his thoughts. “I think you have to try again.”
“I’m going to. One day soon.”
He nodded, still trying real hard to say the right thing. “I know it’s going to be hard, but it’s like riding a bike, you know? You’ve got to get back on.”
Jennifer waved a hand in front of his face. “Dylan, did you hear me? I’ve already decided to go back.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “I promised Jack I would.”
“Jack, as in that guy?”
“Yes.” She smiled.
Well, this was new. Treading carefully again, he murmured, “He made an impression on you, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She hopped on one of the barstools. “Or . . . maybe it’s that his mother was nice. For some reason, after I, you know, got burned and freaked out . . . I wasn’t as scared.”
“That’s awesome.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But I do know that I can’t give up. For a few minutes, I was almost happy, Dylan. That counts for a lot.”
His insides felt crushed. His little sister had a big day today. For a few minutes she’d been almost happy. It broke his heart. But, looking at her face, he noticed that there was something new lurking in her eyes. She was determined to do better. Determined to get better. “I’m proud of you.”
“You know, the sad thing is that I think you actually are.”
“Of course I am. I love you.”
“Do you ever resent me living here?”
“No.” When she looked skeptical, he repeated himself. “I don’t resent you being here. Not ever.”
“Come on. Are you certain? I know we both thought I’d be back to normal by now.”
“I promise you, everybody has something. I don’t know what ‘normal’ is anymore.”
“I’m pretty sure it starts with someone not being afraid to leave the house.”
No, he was pretty sure that normal meant that a person wasn’t assaulted on their way to their car. “Don’t act like you’re a burden. You do all the grocery shopping, cooking, and cleaning. Half the time I feel like I’m the one taking advantage of you.”
“I don’t feel that way.”