me how to cut the
tomato into chunks. I feel his touch throughout my entire body. It’s
warm and tender, but still my breath hitches and my hand flinches. He
pulls his hand away immediately. I do the next two on my own and bite at
my lips trying not to smile like an idiot at my ridiculous accomplishment.
“Since
my sister moved out and my dad stays in Denver often, I started to cook more.
Pasta is easy and you can make it so different each time. Laney has a
bunch of recipes.” He pauses. “So, speaking of Laney, I wanted to
talk to you about something.”
“Okay.”
“I
want to call her and ask her to get you into the office where she works.
She’s a nurse. Have you ever been to a doctor?”
“What
kind of doctor?” He’s making me nervous now. He thinks I’m crazy
like my mother and wants me to take medication and I won’t.
“You
know, like a girly doctor,” he says awkwardly, not looking at me.
“Oh.”
A doctor used to come to the house when I was little but the last time
was a long time ago.
I
think I may have been around twelve. I remember the old man would bring a
doctor with him every once in a while and I would get a check-up and sometimes
shots. One time I was really sick with a stomach flu and since we didn’t
have a phone, we had to wait for the old man to come with the boxes before my
mother could ask him to send a doctor. By the time the doctor came with
medicine, I remember I felt like I was going to die. Within a few days of
taking the medicine, I could finally eat again and I started to get better.
He may have come one more time after that.
“Would
you go? I mean, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but maybe you can
talk to a doctor about what you went through …..your nightmares.”
I
turn to him abruptly. “Do you think I’m crazy?” I can feel my lips
start to quiver and my eyes burn.
He
stops stirring the pasta and turns toward me and looks directly into my eyes.
“I don’t think you’re crazy. I’m a guy and I’m not sure exactly
what happened to you and what you need, so I just thought my sister could get
you into her office to get looked at.” Even though he’s looking right into my
eyes, I can tell he’s avoiding saying exactly why he wants me to go to a
doctor, and then I realize what it is.
“I
wasn’t sexually abused, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I immediately
see relief in his expression. “Is that what you were thinking?”
“Yeah.
I guess.” He runs his hands through his hair and looks at the
floor, blowing out a long breath and then he looks back up at me. I see
pain in his eyes. “Amy, I just want to help. If you can’t talk to me,
then you need to talk to someone else. If you don’t need to talk to a
doctor, then maybe my sister?”
“I
want to talk to you, I’m just scared.” I feel a tear run down my cheek.
I quickly wipe it away. Since the day I saw Dillon on the other
side of the fence, he made me feel like I could be a normal girl. He gave
me hope that my mother was wrong. That the world isn’t evil. That
there is such a thing as love. I’m scared that when he finds out what
really happened in that house, he’ll realize just how broken I am and that I
need to be fixed with medications and psychiatrists. I’ll never be a
normal girl. He won’t want me.
“Are
you scared of me?” His eyes are filled with worry. He’s standing so
close to me. A few days ago, I was scared of him as he stood on the other
side of the fence, but as he stands in front of me, his breath on my face, his
brown eyes searching mine, I’m not scared of him at all.
“Not
like that. I mean, I know you won’t hurt me, physically. I know
that. I just…”
“Can
we sit for a minute?” he asks, gesturing to the
tomato into chunks. I feel his touch throughout my entire body. It’s
warm and tender, but still my breath hitches and my hand flinches. He
pulls his hand away immediately. I do the next two on my own and bite at
my lips trying not to smile like an idiot at my ridiculous accomplishment.
“Since
my sister moved out and my dad stays in Denver often, I started to cook more.
Pasta is easy and you can make it so different each time. Laney has a
bunch of recipes.” He pauses. “So, speaking of Laney, I wanted to
talk to you about something.”
“Okay.”
“I
want to call her and ask her to get you into the office where she works.
She’s a nurse. Have you ever been to a doctor?”
“What
kind of doctor?” He’s making me nervous now. He thinks I’m crazy
like my mother and wants me to take medication and I won’t.
“You
know, like a girly doctor,” he says awkwardly, not looking at me.
“Oh.”
A doctor used to come to the house when I was little but the last time
was a long time ago.
I
think I may have been around twelve. I remember the old man would bring a
doctor with him every once in a while and I would get a check-up and sometimes
shots. One time I was really sick with a stomach flu and since we didn’t
have a phone, we had to wait for the old man to come with the boxes before my
mother could ask him to send a doctor. By the time the doctor came with
medicine, I remember I felt like I was going to die. Within a few days of
taking the medicine, I could finally eat again and I started to get better.
He may have come one more time after that.
“Would
you go? I mean, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but maybe you can
talk to a doctor about what you went through …..your nightmares.”
I
turn to him abruptly. “Do you think I’m crazy?” I can feel my lips
start to quiver and my eyes burn.
He
stops stirring the pasta and turns toward me and looks directly into my eyes.
“I don’t think you’re crazy. I’m a guy and I’m not sure exactly
what happened to you and what you need, so I just thought my sister could get
you into her office to get looked at.” Even though he’s looking right into my
eyes, I can tell he’s avoiding saying exactly why he wants me to go to a
doctor, and then I realize what it is.
“I
wasn’t sexually abused, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I immediately
see relief in his expression. “Is that what you were thinking?”
“Yeah.
I guess.” He runs his hands through his hair and looks at the
floor, blowing out a long breath and then he looks back up at me. I see
pain in his eyes. “Amy, I just want to help. If you can’t talk to me,
then you need to talk to someone else. If you don’t need to talk to a
doctor, then maybe my sister?”
“I
want to talk to you, I’m just scared.” I feel a tear run down my cheek.
I quickly wipe it away. Since the day I saw Dillon on the other
side of the fence, he made me feel like I could be a normal girl. He gave
me hope that my mother was wrong. That the world isn’t evil. That
there is such a thing as love. I’m scared that when he finds out what
really happened in that house, he’ll realize just how broken I am and that I
need to be fixed with medications and psychiatrists. I’ll never be a
normal girl. He won’t want me.
“Are
you scared of me?” His eyes are filled with worry. He’s standing so
close to me. A few days ago, I was scared of him as he stood on the other
side of the fence, but as he stands in front of me, his breath on my face, his
brown eyes searching mine, I’m not scared of him at all.
“Not
like that. I mean, I know you won’t hurt me, physically. I know
that. I just…”
“Can
we sit for a minute?” he asks, gesturing to the
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