Absolution (26 page)

He gritted his teeth and stood up, heading for the kitchen to put a fresh pot of coffee on while Ally was in the shower.

When she appeared in the kitchen some time later, he had prepared a light brunch for both of them. He got the feeling that if he didn’t insist she eat, she wouldn’t bother.

“How do you feel now? Did the shower help?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

As she reached for the coffee, he noticed she still moved gingerly. She sipped her coffee in silence but didn’t touch the food.

“You should eat something to line your stomach,” he cautioned, his tone aiming for ‘concerned friend’ but overshooting the mark and landing smack in the middle of ‘overbearing parent’ instead.

She put her coffee cup down on the table in front of her and grasped it with both hands.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “About what happened that day.”

His heart stopped as her words sank in. After spending the past two weeks wishing she would open up to him, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear it now. He felt like he was walking a tightrope.

“Does this have anything to do with the appointment with Pavlovic?”

Ally nodded, the façade starting to crack.

“What happened?”

She looked over at him through tear-filled eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. Just tell me.”

The heartbreak written all over her face sent him into a blind panic.

“It’s not okay.” 

He struggled to concentrate on what she was saying rather than the look of pure desolation in her eyes.

“He said that this was it,” she murmured. “It’s been a year, and whatever recovery I’m going to have, I’ve had it. In his words, it’s highly unlikely there will be any further nerve regeneration now. My window’s closed. This is it for me.”

He imagined he saw the last ray of hope die in her eyes, sinking without a trace. If he thought she looked hollow before, he had no comparison for how she looked now. He stood up and walked around the table, kneeling down beside her to gently pull her into his arms. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that they could trade places. If he could have taken some of the heartache away to deal with on her behalf, he would have, without question.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

Two words, woefully inadequate.

She grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him closer, shuddering sobs wracking her body with such intensity that he winced. He searched for something to say that would ease the pain, yet at the same time knowing it was a fruitless exercise. There was nothing he could say that would ease this. He felt just as helpless as he had barely an hour ago, watching and waiting for the pain medication to take effect. Only there was no medication to take away this pain. It had seared her soul, where he couldn’t reach.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he whispered into her hair. “I promise you that.”

She shook her head, buried in his shoulder. The sobbing continued, but silently now. It was as if the pain inside was so great, it had sucked up every last breath she had. Finally, she spoke, sounding so young and devoid of hope, it squeezed his chest tight as he fought to keep it together.

“I thought if I got better, if I… then he’d come back.”

His heart shuddered to a stop and all he could do was pull her closer.

“If he left because of me, if I scared him, then maybe I could show him that it wasn’t… that I wasn’t… ”

Oh my God. This was what was going on inside her head all this time?

“Listen to me, it doesn’t matter if Jack’s here or not, you’re not alone, do you hear me?”

He smoothed her hair down, feeling completely helpless. Too late, he realised that his wish to take some of her pain away had been granted, and he felt the weight of her sorrow bearing down on him now, crushing him.

Carefully extricating himself from her, he ducked through to the living room, roughly wiping away the tears from his cheeks. Pulling out the box he had replaced in the bookcase prior to her return from the hospital, he took it back into the kitchen. He knelt down beside her as she wiped her eyes, making a valiant effort to hold back the tears.

When she recognised the box in his hand, she groaned. “I don’t want to see that.”

He ignored her, opening the box and pulling out a journal. “Remember this? I want you to look at it – all of it.” He put the journal on the table and pulled out a wad of photographs. “Do you see these? Do you remember when they were taken?”

She stared at the memory box in his hands. The journal, the photographs – all mementos of her journey to hell and back. The hospital, rehab and plenty of victories since, all wrapped up in one small box, heavy with triumph and courage. She had insisted on recording everything. For Jack, she had said, to show him how far she had come. Callum had a different take on it though. It wasn’t for Jack, it was for her. To remind her of what she was capable of, of the strength she had buried deep inside her, of the fact she could draw on it when she needed it.

“You’re capable of so much more than you think you are, you always have been.”

“It doesn’t matter now – none of it does,” she sniffed.

“Come on, you – “ 

“Don’t you get it?” she demanded, her voice bordering on hysterical suddenly. “It doesn’t matter anymore!”

“Of course it matters!”

“He’s not coming back!” she yelled, “And even if he did, look at me!”

She knocked the photos out of his hand and grabbed the journal off the table, hurling it across the room.

“I am looking at you!” he roared, desperate to reach her. “I just wish you could see what I see, maybe then you wouldn’t want to throw it all away so damn easily! I know what you’ve been through Ally. Who the hell do you think took all these photos? Who cares if he comes back or not? The point is you’re here and you need to understand that he is not part of the equation anymore! Fight for yourself, not for him! And if you can’t do that, fight for me – for Tom, for Maggie, for Jane, for all of us! You owe us that!”

The anger disappeared and she folded in on herself. She sobbed as though her heart was being torn out of her. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He pulled her close again, holding her tight as she gave in to the heartache, the grief and the anger. He felt it seeping out of her, her strength waning.

“We need you here, with us,” he said simply.

“
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.
”

- Confucius

When Jack pulled up outside Ally’s house, Maggie was already heading up the front path. Callum’s car was parked in her driveway and, as he walked up towards the house, he saw the two of them, deep in conversation on her porch. They fell silent as he got closer, and by then, he could hear the music blaring from within.

“You don’t need to be here,” Callum said, holding out his hand. “It’s just the key we need.”

“It’s a package deal,” Jack frowned. “Besides, last night, you told me to fight and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Maggie glanced nervously from Callum to Jack.

“Not here, not now,” Callum said. “You need to trust me on this. Go home.”

“Sorry,” Jack shook his head. “Can’t do it. If I’m in, I’m in – I’m not doing this half-assed.”

The muscles in Callum’s jaw twitched but he kept his mouth shut, turning his back on him and thumping on the door. “Ally! Open up or we’re coming in!”

Jack shifted his weight from one foot to another as they waited for a response.

“Have you got the key?” Callum demanded, turning back to him.

Jack dug it out of his pocket and handed it over without a word, watching as Callum unlocked the front door, his heart racing.  

“Ally!” Callum called, heading left into the bedroom as Maggie went right, into the living room.

Jack stood in the hallway for a moment, then followed the music down to the studio at the back of the house. He pushed open the door and the music instantly got louder. The room looked like a tornado had been through it. Paint, canvases and supplies littered the floor. He scanned the room, taking only a moment to spot Ally behind the door. She sat with her back to the wall, legs splayed out in front of her. Her eyes were closed and her wheelchair some distance away. She looked paler than usual, and tired. His heart sank.

Shit.

Callum pushed past him, sinking to his knees beside her and giving her a solid shake. Her eyes flew open and he shouted something at her that was lost beneath the music. Ally looked up as Maggie swooped past him, but her gaze locked onto Jack, seeing him for the first time. She didn’t have time to react before Maggie enveloped her in a brief but frantic embrace. Callum yelled at her again, the exact nature of the conversation lost in the din. Ally looked just as confused as he was.

He scanned the room again, locating the source of the music and picking his way carefully over the debris-littered floor to turn it off. The air buzzed around them in the sudden silence.

“– the hell are you playing at?” Callum demanded.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to wriggle feebly out of his grasp. “How’d you get in?”

“Are you okay?” Maggie’s tone was gentler than Callum’s.

Before she could answer, Callum grabbed her hands and forced her fingers apart, searching for something but finding nothing. Ally’s expression morphed from confusion to embarrassment to fury. She snatched her hands back, shoving him backwards in the same movement. “Get the hell off me!” 

Maggie reached for her, but she pushed her hand away.

“Just calm down,” Maggie soothed, the hurt in her voice obvious. “What are you doing in here? And what’s with the mega-decibels? Don’t you answer your phone anymore?”

Frustration written all over her rapidly reddening face, Ally pushed Maggie’s hand away a second time. “What is this, twenty questions?” 

“You ignore your phone and lock yourself in here with that thing blaring, I think we’ve got a right to be a little concerned, don’t you?” Callum snapped.

“I’m fine!” she shouted, eyeballing him.

“Really? You look fine, sitting on the floor like this, amongst all this shit! Did you do all this?” 

“It’s my studio, I can do what I want in here!”

“You’re right, it is, and I don’t give a shit what you do in here, but why didn’t you answer your phone, or the door? Being pig-headed is one thing, but this is just plain selfish!”

She pushed him away irritably. “Get out of here, I’m fine! I don’t need the third degree, especially not from you!”

“Oh, okay – so it’s me you’re pissed at then? Is that what all this is about?”

“I’m not pissed at anybody! I just wanted to be by myself for a while, but apparently that’s too much to ask! I don’t need you running in here every time I miss a call!”

“Check your damn messages, it wasn’t just one phone call you missed! Jesus Ally, do you even know how freaked out we were, or do you just not give a damn?”

Her face reddened.

“It’s been a rough week, with Tom, and all this other stuff happening,” Callum shot a quick glance over his shoulder at Jack. “I know things have been kinda crazy, but you can’t do this, you can’t ignore the phone and ignore us and expect us not to worry! We had a deal, remember?”

“I’m fine – you can see I’m fine!”

They glared at each other in silence for a few moments before Maggie intervened. “We’re sorry. We were worried, that’s all.” 

“How did you even get in here?” Ally ignored her, directing her question at Callum, who appeared to be taking the brunt of her anger.

Jack cleared his throat self-consciously. “Dad had a spare key.”

“You wouldn’t answer your phone, or your door. If you want to blame anyone, blame me, it was my idea,” Callum snapped.

She glared at him. “Bring me my chair.”

“There’s broken glass everywhere,” he warned, standing up and picking his way over the debris to her wheelchair. “And paint, and all this other crap. I’ll give you a hand.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Jack cringed at her tone.

“Right – would you rather pick up an infected cut instead?”

She glowered up at him, but he swooped in to pick her up off the floor anyway. Jack was impressed. Had she looked at him like that, he wasn’t sure he would have had the guts to go anywhere near her.

Maggie tilted her wheelchair back and guided it carefully through the room and out into the hallway. Jack followed her, standing in the kitchen doorway, his head spinning. 

Callum expertly deposited Ally into the waiting chair, one of her shoes falling off in the process. He picked it up and handed it back to her. She snatched it off him, dropping it in her lap and immediately heading away from them down the hallway.

“You’re welcome!” Callum called after her.

She whirled around to face them. “Thanks for completely over-reacting and treating me like a five year old, really appreciate it.”

“Oh for God’s sake, just calm down, alright?”

“Don’t tell me to calm down – this is my house!” she yelled. “Sideshow’s over – now you can all get the hell out!”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen until you un-bunch your panties,” he shot back. “I’m gonna brew some coffee. Maybe when you’ve stopped hulking out, you can come into the kitchen and join us and we can talk about this like the civilised people we’re supposed to be.”

She glared at him, then turned around and disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Callum breathed out a frustrated sigh and leaned back against the wall as Maggie stared after her. Jack barely dared to breathe. Somehow, he had managed to blend into the background. They stood in silence for several moments before Callum pushed himself upright.

“Well, like she said, show’s over.” He addressed Jack pointedly. “You can go home now.”

Jack shook his head. “I’m staying.”

“He’s right,” Maggie said. “You should probably go home. We’ll stay for a while longer, just in case.”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” he said quietly. “Just in case of what?”

Maggie’s shared a guarded look with Callum.

“I’m not leaving until someone tells me, so you can count me in for that coffee.”

“You’re better off not knowing,” Callum said. “In fact, I can pretty much guarantee that if we did tell you, you’d wish we hadn’t. You should go home, Jack – I’m serious.”

Jack nodded, his stomach churning. “Yeah, well, so am I.”

Ally hadn’t come out of her room and Callum and Maggie were in the kitchen, making coffee. They spoke in hushed tones, but Jack couldn’t make out what they were saying. Something slammed on the counter.

“Then what the hell do you suggest!”

The hushed tones resumed and he sighed. He supposed he should go in there, but he stood in the hallway, reluctant to move. If what Callum said was true, he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear and if he was honest with himself, he was scared.

Cupboard doors opened and closed and he heard footsteps, followed by the sound of the TV being switched on. He stood for a moment, debating his options, before walking down the hall to Ally’s door, knocking softly. There was no answer but he took a chance and pushed it open anyway, peering around the corner. She sat on the edge of her bed, frowning at him. He took the bull by the horns, remembering his chat with Callum the night before. Somehow, it had seemed much less frightening then. Now, faced with the anxiety that seemed to roll off her, doubt had begun to creep in.

Aware that he was standing there, staring at her, he cleared his throat quietly. “Can I come in?”

She shrugged sharply, indicating she didn’t care one way or the other, although her body language suggested otherwise. Easing the door closed behind him, he stood awkwardly, waiting.

“Where are they?” she asked, fear lurking beneath her words.

“In the kitchen.”

Taking a shuddering breath, her gaze sank to the floor. “Why are you still here?”

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “I was hoping we could talk – y’know, without all the yelling.”

She didn’t respond, even though he waited for longer than was comfortable.

“Can I sit down?”

She nodded reluctantly and he walked over to her, sidestepping her wheelchair and sitting down on the bed next to her. He braced his hands on his thighs, stealing a sideways glance at her.

“Are you alright?” he asked carefully. “That was pretty intense.”

“I’m fine.” 

Clearly a knee-jerk reaction because she sounded far from it. He noticed she had replaced the shoe that had fallen off earlier. He stared at her shoes – flat, black and leather with thin straps that fit over the tops of her feet. The leather looked soft, giving him the impression of ballet slippers. The sort of shoe she used to hate. She preferred boots in the winter – her favorites being a purple leather pair with a two-inch heel that made them almost the same height – and in the summer, strappy sandals with heels in bright colors, the brighter the better.

Swallowing down the observation, he tried again. “I don’t know what just happened here but it feels like I’m missing something important.” He turned his attention from her shoes to her face as she sniffed. “Do you want to tell me what it is? Because I gotta say, Callum’s threatening to fill me in and I’d much rather hear it from you.”

She stared at the floor. As the seconds ticked by, he tried to imagine what the big revelation might be. 

“Can we talk about this another time?” she said finally. “I don’t know if I can do this right now.”