Unbearable by Sherry Gammon
I met up with Seth and Maggie at the trailer later. My nose wrinkled at the wet smoky stench that clung to the wreckage. It was a complete loss; only the metal frame where the north-facing wall once stood remained upright.
Maggie’s gloved hand flew to her mouth with a gasp as she stepped out of the car. “I’m sorry, Magpie.” I gave her a quick hug.
She shook her head. “Don’t be. The place was jinxed. Nothing good’s ever happened in that nightmare of a trailer. I should have torn it down instead of remodeling it.”
Seth wrapped his arm around her. “We’ll have it hauled away and sell the pad space if you’re ready to part with it,” he said.
“Yes. Good riddance,” she said bitterly. “How’s Tess?”
“Not good,” I said solemnly. “She’s given up. She told me I should have let her die.”
“Not good is right,” Seth said. “Maggie and I have been talking. We’d like to invite her to stay with us until she’s back on her feet.”
“That'd be great. I’ll talk to her and see how she feels about it. Your security system should give her some comfort, too.” I’d have her stay with me, but I didn’t plan on being around much since I’d be hunting down the scumbag ex. Tess would feel safer with people she knew. Besides, I didn’t want her to know what I was doing.
We moved around the rubble. Nothing survived. I rummaged through the charred ruins and found what was left of her wallet—the zipper and a melted plastic credit card. The barrel of her gun had been beaten flat.
“Garen’s handiwork would be my guess,” Seth said. I cocked back my arm and threw it into the back of my truck. “How are you doing?” His eyes scanned my face.
“I’m going after him. I’m going to . . .” I glanced at Maggie and drew in a deep breath. “I’m going to find him, then I’m going to kill him.”
“And then you’re going to jail,” Maggie said, her hand cocked on her hip. “Then Tess is going to fall in love with someone else and spend the rest of her days with him instead of you. And her nights,” she added pointedly.
“Let the cops do their job, Book.” Seth kicked a piece of burnt rubbish. “We’ve worked with these people. They’re good at what they do.”
We’ll see.
***
The hunt for Garen Johnson was nothing but dead-end after frustrating dead-end. The police learned that his latest ex-girlfriend was also in hiding, fearing for her life. Her mother told the police of the bruises and welts she’d seen on her daughter, all courtesy of Garen Johnson. She refused to give the police her daughter’s location out of her own fear for the girl’s life.
Tess made steady progress, physically. Emotionally, she was still withdrawn and fearful. “Good morning,” I said, entering her room. Finally, after five long days, Cole gave the okay to release her. He’d kept her there a little longer than needed because he too worried about her flat emotional state and ordered a psych consult to be safe. When I told her about Seth’s offer to let her stay there for a while, she accepted with a blank nod and a thank you.
“Are you ready to go?” Her lips turned up ever so slightly and she nodded. I handed her a large bag from some girly shop in the mall. “Lilah got you some things. I make no promises. Knowing her they’ll be cutting edge and bright.” At last a real smile crossed her lips. The tightness that gripped my chest since the fire eased up minutely.
Tess took the clothes and went into the bathroom, coming back out a few minutes later in a simple pair of jeans and a green sweater. She then pulled out a hat with bold splotches of greens and blues. A large pink flower of some kind sat on the brim. She gave me a crooked grin and plopped it on her head. Had to give Lilah credit—Tess looked amazing in the silly thing. I guided her arms into a blue coat, also picked out by Lilah, and we left.
“Any news on him?” Tess no longer referred to Garen by his name.
“No, but we’ll find him.”
“We’ll?”
“I meant the police,” I assured her. “Lilah and Cole are at Seth’s. We thought a quiet New Year’s Eve dinner might be nice.” She said nothing.
Okay, Plan B. Instead of turning for Seth’s, I drove to The Dragon Noodle, one of my favorite Chinese takeout joints. “Are we picking up food for the party?” she asked as we got out of the truck.
“Yes.” I didn’t mention it was now a private party of two. I ordered the shrimp chow mien she loved and the beef chop suey for me. I paid for the food as she studied a map on the wall by the door. I wondered if she trying to conceal her bruised face from the workers, or if she was making plans to run away and hide again. Neither thought thrilled me.
“That’s all we’re getting? I don’t think that will feed everyone.” She climbed back in the truck and set the food on the seat between us.
“I made an executive decision.” I said, leaving the parking lot. “We’re going back to my place for a quiet dinner for two. Does that sound alright to you, or would you rather go to Seth’s?”
“Your place sounds perfect.” She squeezed my hand. The forced smile on her lips didn’t touch her eyes.
We ate dinner in virtual silence. Even the dog seemed to sense something was wrong. She stayed on her pillow next to the couch and slept, never once begging for food. I put the leftovers in the fridge as Tess used the bathroom. When I came into the family room, she was petting the docile Daisy.
“Want to watch a movie? We have a good three hours before the ball drops.” I picked up my guitar off the couch that I’d left there earlier.
“I didn’t know you played.” She ran her hand over the instrument’s curve.
I slipped the strap over my head. I just may have found a way to put a smile on her face. “The past couple nights,” while I’ve been missing you like crazy, “I’ve taught myself how to play Layla.”
“The Eric Clapton song?” She smiled. “My dad used to sing that to me when I was young.”
“I only know the unplugged version.” I plucked out a few of the song’s cords.
“That’s my favorite. Let’s hear it.” Mild excitement tainted her voice. I’d take it. Anything sounded better than complacency, no matter how small.
“Impressive,” she said after I strummed the intro. “Do you know the words?”
“I do, but I’m not a very good singer,” I warned.
“Somehow I doubt that.” She sat on the arm of the couch and waited.
‘What will you do when you get lonely
When nobody's waitin' by your side?
You've been running and hiding much too long.
I didn’t realize just how close to home the words hit, but she didn’t seem to notice. Hopefully she’d escaped into in a happy childhood memory. She sat quietly, her arms braced on either side of her, as I continued singing.
“Layla, you got me on my knees.
Layla, I'm begging darling please.
Layla, Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?”
She clapped as I removed the guitar strap from around my shoulders and bowed. “Most excellent, Booker.” She kissed my cheek. “What about the rest of the song?”
“You really want me to?” She nodded.
I picked up the guitar and played a few cords as I thought about some of the lyrics and decided to reword a few spots. The next couple lines reminded me of Garen, a place I didn’t want to go tonight.
“You shook my world up with your smile;
Your gentle caring ways abound.
Like a fool, I fell in love with you;
You turned my whole world upside down.
Layla, you got me on my knees.
Layla, I'm begging darling please.”
She said nothing about the changed lyrics as I set the guitar down and took her by the hands, pulling her into my arms. I hummed the tune softly in her ears as we swayed to the music.
“You can dance, too?” she asked.
“Yes. Don’t you remember Seth’s wedding? We danced together,” I reminded her.
“That’s r
“Layla, Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?
Let's make the best of the situation,
Before I finally go insane.
Please don't say we'll never find a way
And tell me all my love's in vain.”
“I do love you, Booker Gatto,” she said softly. We stopped dancing as her tears began, and the dam broke.
She purged her soul of the atrocities Garen had inflicted on her for over a year-and-a-half, details she’d not shared with Cole and me in the hospital. I never wanted to let her go. My chest hurt as the vulgarities spilled out of her mouth. My gut knotted in anger, and I forced my hands to keep from fisting. Memories of my mom and sister’s last moments tried to break in, but I shut them out. Tess needed my undivided attention. She shook so badly I guided her to the couch. After crying herself out, she fell asleep in my arms.
I didn’t sleep. My mind replayed her words over and over again. They ate at me, festered. Garen would pay for the putrid things he’d done to Tess if it were the last thing I did.
Chapter 28
Tess
I woke the next morning, still nestled in Booker’s arms, as we lay stretched across his recliner sofa. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of sleep. Sometime during the night he’d covered us with a blanket. Not wanting to wake him, I lay quietly.
Daisy didn’t share my thought. She paced back and forth in front of the patio door, clearly needing to be let out. As carefully as I could, I moved Booker’s arm, or I tried to, only he held on. I tickled his nose with my fingertips, hoping he’d swipe at it with his hand. He did, only with the other hand. Hadn’t thought of that.
When poor Daisy whimpered, I had no choice but to wake him. “Booker, the dog needs to go out.” I nudged him with my hands. “Booker.”
He sat up straight, eyes wide, fists clenched, ready for a fight. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes.” I hurried as fast as my bruise body allowed to the back door. “Your dog is about to have an accident.”
“Hold on.” He darted to the keypad, punching in the code. The bell rang twice, signaling the all clear, and I opened the door. The dog raced outside, but didn’t clear the deck before relieving herself.
“And that’s why you should never eat yellow snow,” Booker said, coming over next to me. We watched as the dog bounded across they yard, diving into piles of snow. Daisy seemed oblivious to the icy cold. Better her than me. I rubbed my arms at the thought of the white powder on my skin.
“How are you doing this morning?” He rubbed my arms also.
“Better. Sorry about unloading like that,” I said, embarrassed at my mini breakdown.
“No need to apologize,” he said, brushing off my outburst. “I’m just sorry you had to suffer because of your ex.”
“We missed the dropping of the ball.” I slipped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek on his shoulder.
“I guess we’ll have to welcome the New Year in with a good morning kiss,” he said.
“You’ll want me to brush my teeth first.” I looked into his brown eyes.
“I’ll risk it.” He kissed me softly. “Not too bad. I’ve smelled worse.”
I smacked his chest and he laughed. “Come on. I think I have a spare brush you can use.” He took my hand and led me down the hall. I stopped dead when we entered the bedroom.
The gargantuan bed took my breath away. The headboard had to be six feet tall, and constructed of wood, which didn’t surprise me knowing how much he enjoyed woodworking. What did surprise me was the wrought iron insert.
“I just finished this last month,” he said. “I have this weird fascination with iron, and when I saw this piece I knew I had to have it.”
I stepped over to the headboard. “It’s beautiful.” I stroked the curved lines of the iron. “I love this stuff, too. My brother used to tease me because no matter where we were, vacations, school clothes shopping, whatever, I’d hunt out the wrought iron stores.” I laughed.
“Me, too.” Booker tugged at the crooked bedspread, embarrassed. So unlike him. “When I first built it, the iron blended in and you couldn’t see it very well. Lilah suggested I mount a mirror behind it.” He pointed out a mirror I’d not noticed. “She and Maggie keep trying to get me to girly the place up.” He went to the closet and came back with three very girly pillows, complete with white ruffles and roses. “Look what they want me to put on the bed.” He all-but shoved them at me, as if holding them burned his hands.
I set them on the deep green comforter. “I have to admit, they do look really good on the bed,” I said. Booker rolled his eyes and went into the bathroom, signaling me with his hand to follow.
A large, brown travertine tile shower dominated the space with its glass doors and four showerheads. “It has a steamer, too.” He smiled proudly as my mouth dropped in awe.
“Did you install this?”
“Not the plumbing, but Seth and I did the tile work. Took forever, but it turned out great.” He handed me a new toothbrush. “It cost me a pretty penny.”
I squeezed a bead of toothpaste on the brush as he folded his arms and leaned against the sink.
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Caving on your bet already, Gatto?” I teased, nodding to the bed.
He looked at it and frowned. “Yeah, don’t remind me. Don’t know what I was thinking.” I chuckled at his long face. “It’s good to see you laugh again, Tess.”
It felt good to laugh again. For the past week I’d felt like an emotionless zombie. I’d hardly allowed myself to feel anything until I cried on Booker’s shoulder last night. “Thanks again for letting me get that all out.”
“Anytime.” He kissed my temple. “I’m glad you trust me enough to unload like that. I’ve been pretty worried about you.” He brushed his teeth as I did mine. It felt natural to be next to him, sharing the bathroom, like we’d been together forever.
“I feel better, and strangely enough, stronger.” I dried my mouth and set the brush on the counter. “I don’t want to go back to how I was before, cowering at every sound. I don’t want to allow him to take my peace of mind again. I’m going to be stronger, braver.”
“Good for you . . . which brings me back to my proposition.” He put his brush in a silver holder and hung up the towel. “Since Garen knows where you are, there’s really no sense in hiding from your family anymore. I thought maybe we could fly out to California and you could see them, if you’re comfortable with that.”
My heart leaped for joy as I jumped into his arms while holding back tears. I’d cried enough. “I’m taking that as a yes.” I nodded against his chest, unable to speak. “Good. We can look over flights while we have breakfast.”
“Thank you, Book.” I kissed him, catching my reflection in the mirror as I did. “Oh, wait. I can’t go home looking like this. My parents will freak.” I fingered the rough locks of hair sticking out everywhere. “They’ve been through so much. If they see me like this it will devastate them, especially my mother.
“Maybe Lilah can help.”
“I don’t think anything but time can fix this. And the same goes for my bruises.” I gingerly touched around the still tender yellowing bruise.
“Let’s see what she can do, then you can decide. Honestly, Tess, I think your parents will be happy to see you no matter what your hair looks like.” Booker took my hand and led me to the kitchen.
“Happy? Undoubtedly. I’m more concerned about upsetting them. They haven’t seen me in four years and I walk in looking like this?” I sat on the barstool as he gathered some eggs, bread, and milk.
“It’s your call, but like I said, I think they’ll be overjoyed to have you back and simply won’t care.”
“Let me see what Lilah can do before I make any commitment.”
***
“Hi, guys. Missed ya yest
“Sorry. I wasn’t up for company,” Booker said, bee-lining it into the family room and plopping down on the couch next to Seth.
While the guys watched football, Lilah and Maggie sat at the kitchen table going through magazines, looking at decorating ideas for a baby nursery.
“Who’s playing?” I asked, tugging nervously at my hair.
“Who cares,” said Lilah, waving her hand in the air.
Maggie laughed. “What she said. Judging from your intense stare at the TV, I’m guessing you like football?”
“It’s alright. I enjoy lacrosse much more. And basketball. I love basketball.” I grinned at Lilah’s scrunched face. “I played lacrosse in high school. I guess that’s where I get my love of sports from.”
“You were captain two years in a row,” Maggie added. “Book’s been bragging about you.”
“Come on, dream girl. Let’s do your hair so you can watch the game.” Maggie took my arm and we followed Lilah up to the bathroom.
“Maggie, I want to apologize again—”
“Tess, you apologized at the hospital, and I’ll repeat what I said there. It wasn’t your fault. Stop torturing yourself about it,” she said softly. “Besides, I think the trailer was possessed anyway.” She gave me a hug.
“Thank you.” I sat in the chair in front of the vanity.
“Mags, you’re going to have to put a salon chair in here as often as we do hair up here,” Lilah joked.
“Seriously,” she nodded.
Lilah laid out a set of black scissors, a cape, and a small plastic box of makeup. She worked on covering the bruise on my cheek first. “Not bad.” She held up a small mirror for me.
“You can hardly tell.” I grinned, twisting my head toward the light for a better view.
“This stuff is a miracle worker.” She handed me a small black tube of liquid foundation. “Don’t leave home without it. Now for your hair. When we stripped the black dye out I remember you mentioning that you preferred your hair long, correct?” she asked, fingering the butchered mess. I nodded. “I won’t cut much off then. I’ll blend in some of the shorter pieces. What do you think?”