Authors: Amanda Dick
“Couldn’t you all have gone somewhere else instead?”
“Why? Because of me?” she frowned. “Why should they? It wasn’t their problem, it was mine.”
“Something tells me they wouldn’t have seen it that way.”
She shrugged again. The bar was getting noisier. Jack watched as a large group burst through the main door. He glanced over at Harry, who was also watching them, his expression dark. The group elbowed their way to the bar, amid protests from other patrons who were unimpressed with their behaviour. It was apparent they had had a copious amount of alcohol already and were well on their way to being completely smashed.
“Shit,” Ally mumbled.
“What?”
Her attention was fixed on the group and the colour drained from her face.
“What is it?”
“I think we should probably go.”
“What? Why, what’s the matter?”
He followed her gaze, spotting Andy McLeish, holding court at the centre of the bar, laughing raucously. Jack’s blood began to boil just watching him. He turned back to Ally, who was trying her best to look inconspicuous. She was clearly nervous, and from what Callum had told him and what he had observed himself the other night, he could understand why.
“I met him the other night,” he said, nodding in McLeish’s direction.
“You what?”
“That night I went to talk to Callum, I found him here. Along with Mr. Personality over there.”
“What happened? He and Callum didn’t – “
“He was just shooting his mouth off. Nothing happened,” he lied.
“Thank God. You need to keep away from him, Jack – he’s pure evil, and he’s got just enough between his ears to bring a whole lot of trouble down on you just as soon as look at you.”
“Yeah, Callum told me about that.”
Ally looked more and more uncomfortable by the second.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said.
Ally didn’t waste any time. She grabbed her crutches from under the table and shuffled sideways in her seat. Straightening her legs, she used the table and the back of the booth to hoist herself up.
He noticed that several pairs of eyes were on her but she was too preoccupied to notice. He moved in front of her, shielding her from prying eyes, his protective instinct in overdrive. Shifting her weight, she reached over for her crutches.
“Okay, let’s go,” she said, looking over his shoulder, nervously judging the crowd of people between them and the door.
“I’ll take it slow,” he assured her.
He shot a glance towards Andy and his entourage as they made their way towards the door, but thankfully they appeared to slip away unnoticed. Heading slowly through the throng, he kept one eye on Ally and the other on the door. It seemed to take forever, but after several minutes they were finally making their way out onto the street and into the cool night air.
They trudged away from the bar in silence. He tried to think of something to say to lighten the atmosphere, but nothing came. As a result, the mood remained sombre.
As they rounded the corner onto the side street and his car, she suddenly stumbled. He moved quickly to catch her before she fell, grabbing her around the waist.
“Whoa - are you okay?” he said, still holding onto her as she hurried to right herself.
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
Reluctantly, he let her go, afraid he had grabbed her too hard. “I’m sorry – that was just instinct. Did I hurt you?”
“Just my pride, but I’m sure I’ll live. The lighting out here is crap,” she said, clearing her throat. “Makes it kinda hard to see what I’m doing.”
He remembered what she’d said about having to see her legs to control them.
“How about I bring the car closer?”
“Thanks. That’d be great.”
“No problem. You going to be okay here for a minute?”
“I’m fine as long as I don’t try to walk,” she smiled tightly. “How’s that for irony?”
He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back.”
“And I’ll be right here.”
Her tone reeked of frustration. He headed for his car at a brisk walk, heart pounding. This was not how he was hoping the night would end. It was all he could do to stop himself from running back to her, but he forced himself to jog the last few steps to his car instead. He drove back up the street, double-parking and leaving the engine idling as he jumped out and made his way over to her.
“Your carriage awaits,” he bowed slightly, trying to alleviate some of the discomfort.
She flashed him an anxious smile before slowly making her way towards his car. He hovered behind, just in case, but she managed to get herself between the parked cars safely. Waiting while she eased herself in, he closed the door behind her and made his way around to the driver’s side.
He could not have foreseen any of this. This is what it was like for her, all the time? Something stupid like bad lighting becoming less of an inconvenience and more of a real safety issue? The simplest things turning into one hurdle after another? The guilt that he had successfully managed to push to the edge of his subconscious over the past couple of hours seeped in again, turning his stomach.
He climbed into the car and pulled out onto the quiet street. The tension in the air was palpable. Ally seemed closed off, staring out the side window. The easy companionship they had shared earlier had disappeared.
The lights from the car behind them reflected off his rear-view mirror and he squinted, tilting it slightly. He took the next corner slowly and the car behind did the same. He frowned, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.
“I’m sorry,” Ally said.
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
“This wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for tonight,” she mumbled, echoing his sentiments.
“Are you kidding? I think you’re just looking at it all wrong.”
That got her attention. She turned to him, frowning.
“We got a head-start on tomorrow’s exercise regime by walking three miles to the bar. I got to catch up with Dave again, which was great because he’s always been a fun guy. We got to make like James Bond and do the hasty exit thing before the Bad Guy caught on – oh, and don’t forget the part where you nearly kissed the sidewalk. I mean, I’m not sure what you call a good time these days, but in my book, that’s a hell of a night out.” He glanced over at her and caught the smile she was trying to hide. “Oh and let’s not forget the fact that I’m still sober enough to drive and the night is still young,” he winked.
“All very valid points. I guess I was just looking at it all wrong.”
“The glass is always half-f, Miss Connor,” he ribbed, turning his attention back to the road, his heart a little lighter.
As he turned into her street, they lapsed into silence once again. He slowed down as he approached her house, pulling into her driveway and setting off the security light. The car was bathed in the eerie glow as he cut the engine. The silence became louder. She stared at her hands, wrapped around the crutches resting between her legs.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked finally.
“Sure.”
“Does driving make you nervous? I mean, since the accident. Was it easy, to just get back behind the wheel again?”
He thought about it for a moment. “It wasn’t easy. It took a while to get my confidence back,” he admitted. “And I’m definitely a more cautious driver now, because of what happened.”
She nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Why did she want to know that?
“How about you?” he asked. It was a risky move. “You drive, don’t you? Does it make you nervous?”
She shrugged, still studying her hands. “This hole in my memory where the accident should be, it kinda comes in handy sometimes. I’m not a nervous driver or passenger or anything like that, but learning how to drive with hand controls took some getting used to.”
She fidgeted with her crutches and he got the feeling she was building up to something.
“I had an accident about a month after I started driving again,” she said finally. “It wasn’t anything serious, just something stupid, really.”
“What do you mean, stupid? What happened?”
“I was still having trouble with my balance, and my seat belt wasn’t pulled tight enough. I took a sharp turn a little too fast, I think, and I fell sideways, ran off the road.”
“Oh shit.”
“I wasn’t hurt or anything,” she smiled shyly. “I just felt like such an idiot.”
He could imagine how daunting it must have been at the time, despite her bravado.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever told about that – the truth, that is.”
“Really?”
“I told Tom and Callum that I just lost my concentration for a minute. There was no way I was going to tell them what really happened, I was too embarrassed. It was a rookie mistake, one of those ‘live and learn’ moments.”
She turned her grandmother’s ring around and around on her finger.
“I have these dreams,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper in the quiet car. “About running – jogging, really. Y’know, like I used to.” She snuck a furtive glance at him before inspecting her house through the windshield in the dark. “In my dreams, I’m always either walking or running. I’ve never dreamt that I’m paralysed, ever – not once. I never see my wheelchair in my dreams, or my braces. Sometimes, when I’m running, there’s this little alarm bell inside my head that tries to tell me something’s wrong, but I just ignore it. It bothers me sometimes. I wonder if that means I’m still in some kind of denial about what happened.”
Jack watched the emotions play over her face. “Maybe you don’t see yourself that way because that’s not who you are, it’s just something that happened to you,” he said gently.
She seemed to digest this information, casting a brief glance at him, complete with tight smile. Then she retreated back into herself, turning her attention to what lay beyond the windshield.
“Jogging’s not the only thing I miss,” she said, almost to herself. “Dancing. Walking on cool grass on a hot day. Flowing dresses. Pretty shoes. Silly things, really. None of the things I thought I’d miss.”
Jack reached for her hand, holding on tight. He tried to conjure up some sage words of comfort, but they refused to come. Eventually, she turned to him and smiled through the tears that had gathered in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to blurt out all this stuff.”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“You should feel honoured. I don’t babble my secrets to just anyone.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured, reaching up to brush a stray tear from her cheek. “I’ll keep your secrets safe.”
A breathless mixture of fear and longing danced within her eyes.
“Do you want to come inside?” she asked tentatively. “Maybe we can order pizza or something?”
He smiled. “I’d really like that.”
“
If you get a chance, take it.
If it changes your life, let it.
”
- Harvey MacKay
Jack took another enthusiastic bite of pizza and Ally smiled to herself. The warm glow she was experiencing was a seamless blend of alcohol and sheer happiness. Just being with Jack seemed so surreal, but throw alcohol into the mix and suddenly ‘surreal’ took on a whole new twist. She appreciated that the beer took the edge off the awkwardness she had worried would plague them. They had come up against plenty of that tonight, but in spite of all of it, she was relaxed and enjoying his company.
She took a bite of pizza, feeling slightly squeamish as she recalled babbling in the car earlier. She had said things that she never would have said had she been stone cold sober, but somehow it was okay. He hadn’t backed away in fear or run in the opposite direction. She had found herself talking to him easily sometimes – a little too easily, not that he seemed concerned about that. In fact, she thought as she watched him help himself to another slice of pizza, he seemed pretty relaxed.
The music coming from her iPod dock seemed to fill up the silence between them, Adam Duritz’s sultry voice swirling around them as he sang about the price of a memory being the sorrow it brings. Very fitting, she thought, taking another sip of her beer, eyeing him over the top of the bottle.
“You know, every time I hear this song I think of that night.”
It took him a moment, but he smiled over at her, the fog lifting. “I remember. Best road tripping song, ever.”
“And best get-you-in-the-mood-for-a-night-on-the-town song ever. And best Sunday-morning-lazy-breakfast song ever,” she said. “It’s also a pretty good hiding-from-the-world song, too.”
His smile faded, but he nodded in agreement. She shook her head, amazed at the lack of control she had over her mouth tonight. Maybe she was more smashed than she thought.
She attended to the last of her pizza, washing it down with more beer, just as a new song filled the room. This one had altogether too many memories attached to it and she began to wonder if she should switch off the iPod and risk the awkward silence. As she mulled over her options, Eddie Vedder growled sensuously about five horizons revolving around her soul.
“I should’ve known this song would be on there somewhere,” he said.
She smiled, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Vedder’s voice surrounded her with memories. Jack picked up his beer and took a sip, placing it back on the table. Then he stood up and walked around to stand in front of her, holding his hand out.
“C’mon,” he prompted gently. “Dance with me.”
She stared up at him, the last vestiges of a smile disappearing from her face. “What?”
“You heard me. Dance with me – right here, right now.”
She waited for some sign that he was just kidding around, but she didn’t find any. She waved his hand away. “What are you talking about?”
“We can do this, I’ve been thinking about it since Barney’s. Let me show you?”
She shook her head, about to tell him that he was crazy, her heart threatening to jump into her throat.
“Come on,” he pleaded, taking her hand in his. “Trust me. Please?”
He seemed to be so sure of himself, so eager to please, that she found herself doing just that. His gaze enveloped her, drawing her in and wrapping her in a thick, warm cloak of reassurance until she was nodding up at him.
“You just need to stand up,” he said, releasing her hand. “I’ll do the rest.”
A lump the size of Texas seemed to be stuck in her throat, but somehow she managed to get her trembling hands to co-operate. She rearranged her legs so they were straight out in front of her, fumbling with the lock on each brace. Taking more care than usual, trying to slow down this moment that seemed to be spiraling out of control, she used the table and the back of her chair to hoist herself upright. Standing there, leaning on them for support, she had never been more frightened.
Jack stepped in closer to her, taking her by the waist. He began talking to her, angling her towards him.
“Put your arms around my neck – it’s okay, I’ve got you.”
She did as she was told, holding on tight as her weight shifted towards him and he stepped in even closer. His cologne wafted over her and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about falling.
“Can you loosen that grip a little? I’m not going to be able to do this if I can’t breathe,” he joked, his voice in her ear giving her goosebumps. “I’m not going to let you fall, I promise. I just need a little wiggle room.”
“Wiggle room?” her eyes flew open.
“Just trust me.”
She relaxed her grip as he jostled her a little. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just going to lift you up a bit.”
His arms wrapped even tighter around her waist. “Why?” she demanded, breathless with the combination of being this close to Jack and of what he was suggesting. She tried to resist the urge to hold on to him even tighter still.
“Did you ever dance with your Dad like this when you were a kid, standing on his feet?” he asked, as she felt him lift her.
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“Yeah,” he huffed, her weight shifting again. “There, that’s it.”
“That’s what?” she demanded, afraid to move.
“Just relax.”
“I’m relaxed, what makes you think I’m not relaxed?”
He chuckled and the sound filled her with joy, despite her precarious position. Suddenly, she realised she couldn’t feel his hands anymore.
“Jack, where are your hands?”
“I’m holding your… jeans.”
Realisation dawned. “You’re holding my ass, aren’t you.”
He chuckled again. “Yeah.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“You better watch it, mister. No funny business.”
“Best behaviour, ma’am. I promise.” The smile in his voice was obvious. When he spoke again a moment later though, he was deadly serious. “I’ve got your feet on top of mine now, so we can dance like this all night if you want to.”
They began to sway from side to side. Now that the blood had stopped rushing to her head, she could hear the music again. She tried to concentrate on that, rather than the fact that she was in such close proximity to Jack and she was actually dancing.
“Is this alright? You’re not saying much.”
She nodded into his neck but couldn’t bring herself to speak. He rubbed her back gently with one hand, sending shivers through her. Slowly, she gave herself over to the movement, relishing the way her body moved with his.
As the song ended and another began, the tears came, silently sliding down her cheeks and burying themselves in his shirt. She felt like she was floating and Jack was her anchor, solid and safe and here. She wished the moment would last forever.
He was holding her in his arms again, where she felt so warm and safe and comfortable that it scared her. With an aching heart, she pushed aside the reflection with a sigh that emerged as more of a choking sound.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked gently and they stopped moving, his hand motionless on her back.
She nodded into his neck, afraid to speak in case her voice betrayed her.
“The last time we did this was at the Pearl Jam concert,” he said, as the swaying began again, slow and rhythmic.
He pulled her closer, his hand strong and firm against her back. She felt like it was burning a hole through her shirt.
“We were queuing to get into the venue and the support band came on. We danced while we were waiting, in front of everyone.” She heard the smile in his voice. “It was your idea, as I remember it – you didn’t exactly give me much of a choice.”
The usual black void engulfed her as she thought about the night of the accident. He might as well have been talking about someone else. She was almost jealous of her other self from that night, dancing with Jack, having a great time.
The music faded as the song came to an end and they stopped moving. She stood with her arms around his neck, the rhythmic beating of his heart against her chest almost mesmerising.
“Are you ready for a break?” he asked, gently brushing her hair away from her shoulder.
“Just one more?” she whispered, not ready to let go of the moment just yet.
“You’re the boss.”
They began to sway in time to the music again and she closed her eyes. She let the music in – properly, this time – and it took her back to places she hadn’t been in a long time. Memories flooded through her. Jack’s shirt felt damp beneath her cheek and she sniffed, opening her eyes and blinking in the dull light of her living room.
“Hey, hey – what’s all this?” Jack soothed, smoothing her hair away from her face as she pulled away from him.
“I think I need to sit down,” she whispered, light-headed suddenly.
“Okay, sure, just a second here.” He manoeuvred them both towards the couch and turned around so her back was facing it. “I’m just going to lower you down here, just hold on to my – yeah, that’s it. Okay, there you go, no problem,” he said gently, easing her onto the couch.
She sniffed again, wiping her eyes with trembling fingers.
“You okay?” he asked nervously, sitting on the edge of the couch beside her. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” she mumbled vaguely. “I just felt a little dizzy, but I’m fine now.”
“You look kinda pale. I’ll get you some water.”
She didn’t bother arguing and watched as he disappeared into the kitchen. Unlocking her braces with trembling fingers, she eased herself back into the couch as he came back to sit beside her again, glass of water in hand.
“Here. Maybe you should drink this,” he suggested, and she took the proffered glass, taking a small sip. “Better?”
“Thanks. I just… I think it was just the… everything.”
She rested the glass on her thigh, watching it closely, as if it might provide all the answers to the questions in her head.
“Ah yes, the everything. That’d certainly do it,” he said, and she glanced up to find him smiling at her.
She felt the tears coming again as she looked at him, staring back at her with a tender, slightly bemused, expression. She blamed the alcohol for affecting her this way, but she knew that it wasn’t solely to blame. She fought through the haze of emotions and chemicals, frantically trying to rebuild the carefully-constructed wall that held her fragile soul safe, trying desperately to keep him out. She felt the wall crumbling but she was determined not to give up the cause yet, so used to protecting everyone from the mess inside her head that it was second nature now. So why was she telling Jack things she had never told anyone else?
“You scare me,” she whispered, alcohol connecting the direct line between her brain and her mouth. She took a quick sip of water and her hand shook so much, she almost dropped the glass. “This – us – tonight… all of it. Dancing, talking – secrets – so many things. And feelings – the way you make me feel… it’s all so… it’s like you never left, only you did leave, and it’s all so different now.”
Jack’s face, so worried just moments ago, relaxed. “It’s kind of overwhelming, is that what you mean?”
“Yes!” she nodded vehemently. “That’s what I mean! Isn’t that what I said?”
He smiled, reaching for the glass of water and setting it down on the side table. “Kind of, yeah.”
She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I’m drunk, you’ve gotten me drunk. I hope you’re happy.”
He laughed softly and rubbed her back. “Yes, you are. But it’s okay, you’re safe.”
Her hands fell into her lap and she looked over at him, intent on saying something important. But whatever it was mysteriously disappeared and she just stared at him. He smiled at her, so tenderly she forgot where she was. She wanted to surrender to him, right here, right now.
She leaned unconsciously towards him and his smile faded. His eyes lingered on her lips for a nano-second, sending a shiver of anticipation through her. She waited impatiently as he searched the depths of her soul until his lips were on hers, warm and soft and tasting vaguely of beer. She closed her eyes as his fingertips caressed her cheek, the nerve-endings coming alive with his touch.