She is there. Back in that house, that room. The kitten and puppy posters on the wall highlighted by her nightlight.
“No! Stop it!” She thrashes about, holding on to the bottom of her shirt. Michael, studying beside her, drops his book and slips down by her.
“It’s okay Chloé. Come on. Wake up.” She hits at him. He secures her arms and she kicks at him. He wraps his legs around her, holding her on his lap. He holds her tightly as she battles her demons.
“Michael?”
“You were having a horrid nightmare. This position protects us both.” He explains as he loosens his grip. She quickly moves back to the couch, holding tight to her knees.
“Thanks I...”
“Was dreaming of the horrid bastard.” His anger for her sooths some of her hurt and fear.
“Yes. I knew from telling. It is one reason I don't speak of it much.”
“That I understand. But it’s like a deep infected wound, eh. It must be lanced, though the cutting brings pain, so the healing can start.”
“A good way to put it. You’re right. It’s just...”
“You want to talk about it?” she looks at him. Her grip tighten on her knees. He notices and moves back to his chair.
“You aren’t supposed to be my therapist.”
“I can’t be anyone’s yet. Not legally. But your roommate, that I am, right?” She nods her head. “If you wish to speak of it, I’ll listen as your roommate.”
“I’m not that scared little girl anymore. He’s dead. He can't hurt me.” She whispers to herself as she awaits the tea.
***
“Tell me about yourself.” She half sits, half lies on the couch. He sits on the floor by it. She is pleasantly buzzed due to the amount of whisky he mixed in her tea. Relaxed, he is happy to see.
“Myself, my family, Rose, school?” he looks up at her.
“Oh, that is a lot. Start with your parents.”
“Okay,” he leans his head back and his hair tickles her thigh. She moves farther up. He doesn’t notice, lost in the beginning of his tale. “My dad, Gerry, is a farmer. He does everything from balancing the books to delivering coos. My mom, Olivia, helps him but has a life in her own right. She writes children’s books. Started telling us kids stories and, as we got older, my sister Janet, called Ginny, and I, urged her to write them down.”
“Olivia Franklin, I have heard of her.” He smiles and she can't help returning it. “Ginny. What does she do?”
“She’s a proud mom. Her husband, Lennox and her have three with twins on the way.”
“Oh wow. She must be older.”
“Yes,” he laughs, “by five years. Her and Lennox got married young. She was nineteen. They had been in love since childhood. A good match and she is an excellent mama.”
“What does Lennox do?”
“He’s an accountant. Keeps the books, among other things. There’s plenty of room for more kids.”
“So,” she starts to play with the fringe of the throw pillow she holds,” will you and Rose give them more?”
He shrugs “Maybe. I don't know. We’ve agreed not to discuss that far ahead until she finishes school and she has one more year.”
“Logical. You seem a steady logical person, Michael. Any wild past?”
“Lennox and I were and are best friends. Even with him being older. I recall once we got our asses strapped for climbing on the lower roof. We had just seen Superman, you know, and thought we could fly. I was but five. Lennox ten, almost eleven.”
She laughs and it transforms her, bringing out the beauty hidden by sorrow and fear. He decides to keep her laughing. He tells several other self-deprecating tales.
“So, you really thought to find Nessie in a pound in your back garden?”
“I was four. I didn’t understand why my mom was screaming so loud about a bit of mud. Not understanding it was my cousin’s Christening and I had fucked up my only suit.” They laugh together. Over the process of that day, as the focus on him allows her time to relax, they become friends. The only male friend she has ever had.
“And Ginny?”
“Oh, she was rightly furious. The nerve of her baby brother to disrupt her first make-out session. I just wanted to play with my buddy.”
“I must meet her. And Lennox. I think I would like them.”
“Yes, we’ll arrange it.”
“Michael, thanks for the day. It was exactly what I needed.”