Page 256 of Summer Heat
Aimee gets up and goes back to the closet and I get up and sit in her chair to leaf through the album. Bu-bump. Bu-bump. That’s the noise I hear in my clogged ears. I clutch on to my heart with both hands, willing it to slow down. Willing it to be quiet.
“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Aimee coos when she walks out of the closet.
I shake my head vigorously and look at her through blurred eyes for a long moment.
“Aimee, what is your mother’s maiden name?” I ask shakily.
She crinkles her eyebrows and looks at me like I’m crazy. “Murphy.”
I gasp and shoot up out of the chair, hitting
my knees against the desk and knocking over the cup of pencils. “Where’s your bathroom?” I ask desperately.
She points at the next door down the hallway. I run to it, close and lock the door, and spew the tuna salad I had for lunch in the toilet.
“Are you okay?” Aimee calls from the other side of the door.
I grip on to the toilet seat. “Yes,” I reply weakly. “I think the tuna I had for lunch was bad. Keep packing or whatever. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” she calls out unconvinced.
When I’m sure she’s left, I get off the floor, splash my face and rinse my mouth a few times and open the door very quietly to look out. I can hear Aimee in her closet, so I tiptoe to the room next door and open it. It’s a storage room. I open the one next to it—master bedroom. I open the one beside that-it’s completely blue.
I step in and switch the light on. I feel my body shaking as I close the door quietly behind me and lean against it. I don’t know if the tuna salad really upset my stomach or if it’s my nerves. I’m going to have to go with the latter, though. I look around the room and see wooden shelves on both sides of the room that have baseball collectibles on them. There’s also a lower shelf by the bed that has all kinds of G.I. Joes. I spot something peeking out from the closet and it’s almost as if it’s calling me to free it. I can’t stop my wobbly legs from slowly walking toward it. The door creaks as I push it open slowly—as soon as I see it, I fall to my knees with a loud thump. I stare at it as water wells in my eyes and affliction courses through my veins. I grab it and stuff it in my oversized purse. I get up shakily, my heart still drumming in my ears, but and quickly walk back to Aimee’s room. She comes out of her closet with a bag in her hand and looks at my with furrowed eyebrows.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“No,” I reply as I grab on to the strap of my purse to calm my shaky hands. I’m not okay at all.
On the ride back to my apartment, I debate whether or not I should ask her any questions. I decide not to. She tells me that her parents are in DC for the week. She explains that she thinks she remembers a time when they were a happy family—before her brother died—but it’s been hell living with them most of her life. I listen quietly and send Aubry a text message, asking him to please stay at Aimee’s house tonight. Cole’s flight gets in at 8:00, and I want us to be alone for the night.
At 9:00, the door opens, and I hear Cole speaking to Bruce. He knocks on my bedroom door three times, and I open it. He leans in and gives me a big wet kiss on the lips before crushing me into his chest. I breathe in his scent—masculine Christmas tree mixed with Jean Paul Gaultier—and hug him tightly, bracing him and myself for what’s to come.
“Cole, I found something out about my nightmares…and my past…and everything,” I say rushed as I shuffle from one foot to the other.
He frowns narrowing his eyes and grabs my arms to pull me to the bed. He sits me between his legs and kisses my head.
“What’d you find, baby?” he asks softly.
I take a deep breath and look him straight in the eyes. There’s no point in me blinking back my impending tears at this point. I weep for family, friends, love, and the existence of bastards who punish children for their parents’ sins.
“Cole,” I say before taking a deep breath. “Remember how I told you about that little boy? Nathan?” I ask brokenly as he wipes my tears from my face.
He furrows his eyebrows and nods. “Yeah...”
I let out a strangled sob before standing and walking to my purse. I take a deep breath as I unzip it and take out the tattered Rainbow Brite doll. I see recognition flash across his eyes as he stares back at me completely dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open.
“What the fuck?” he says horrified. His voice barely a whisper.
I fall to my knees and weep loudly with my face in my hands. I hear the bed creak when he gets up and walks over to me. He gets down on his knees in front of me and holds me. He grabs my tear-stricken face between his hands and examines me like he’s looking at me for the first time. I look at him the same way. Then, after a minute, our bodies crash together again. I feel his body quaking beneath me as his own grief trembles through. We hold each other for minutes, hours, days. When we finally calm down, we sit next to each other.
“So…you’re...oh God. I’m...” he says, breathing heavily and wiping tears from his own face. “Your nightmares?”
I nod. “They’re about that night. Do you remember now?”
“No. I remember it was awful, but I don’t remember it. I do remember you though,” he says, caressing my face with the back of his hand. “My princess.”
I smile through my tears. “Your princess?”
