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Kali flinched as Lincoln’s door slammed. She stepped to the window then slammed the glass down.
Damn.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
She turned toward Theo and her room, listened for movement. If that slam had woken him again she couldn't handle it. Not now. She waited.
Silence.
Kali let out a long breath and wrapped her arms around her middle, staring where Lincoln last stood. So he tried to kiss her. Did that warrant what she'd said, how she reacted? She knew white boys thought dancing meant more—didn't understand the movement could be that and that alone. And had she lead him on otherwise? Maybe. Maybe she had looked at him like she wanted more. Had she?
No. Absolutely not. She'd just been tipsy with the dance and tipsy with the drink.
And he hadn't pushed it, hadn't forced a thing. He'd stepped away, looked genuinely sorry, genuinely embarrassed, yet she kept at him. Yelled at him. Mocked him.
He'd tried to kiss her, but that was it. Another man may have ... she shuddered at the thought. If he'd wanted to, if he'd been the type of man to insist, she couldn't have made him stop. But he'd stopped, and she'd torn him to pieces.
Kali stepped into the hall, staring at his closed door in the shadows. And now what? Should she go to his room? Apologize? Make sure she wouldn't wake up to find her belongings packed up, a note beside them—Leave by tonight or I'll remove you myself.
She stepped forward, then stopped. She couldn't knock on his door. She'd never knocked on his door.
It was stupid—getting drunk, letting down her guard, letting him think ... but she just wanted a night, one night to let go. To enjoy. Forget for a few hours that she hadn't heard back from the interview. Three days, and not a word. Forget that if she didn’t hear back, she had no solid plan; without that job—hovering on the horizon like salvation—the future looked terrifying.
***
LINCOLN LAY IN BED. He hadn't heard feet in the hall, water from the bathroom, or the sound of her door close.
She was still out there. In his living room. In his space. And there was nothing he could do about it. Not a thing. Not until she was ready to leave. Not until he knew they'd be okay.
But her outburst had been good. Very good. A reminder. He'd let his guard down and he wouldn't again. He didn't need a woman—a woman and her child—screwing up his life. Just because they shared the same space, that didn't mean they had to share each other's lives. And they wouldn't. Not anymore. He'd use their presence as motivation to get more work done. If worst came to worst, he'd be the one to leave. Leave her the apartment, and good riddance.
Lincoln let his tense muscles ease. Yes, tonight was good. Her outburst was just what he needed. She didn't want him, which was wonderful because he didn't want her either. The music, the beer, had been a slip. Nothing but a slip.
***
IN THE MORNING KALI woke with another raging headache. Different this time than the last. Worse. The pressure was there, that weird feeling like her brain was trying to explode. But along with it was an old familiar ache. Her head was foggy. Her vision was foggy. Her mouth tasted like cotton balls.
She wouldn't call in sick. Not for a malady of her own creation. Mostly of her own creation.
Theo had woken three times in the night, whimpering and shaking from the nightmares. She flicked off the alarm and checked on him. He was sleeping soundly now. She tiptoed out of the room. The sight of Lincoln's closed door brought it all back. Her rage. Her stupidity. The possibility that she may have destroyed the safe haven they had here.
The urge to go to him, apologize, returned. She stood with her fist poised at his door.
No.
Waking him up would not be the way to offer an apology. Food, perhaps? An awesome breakfast, and then she'd play it by ear, judge his mood.
Kali showered, changed, and had pancakes with fresh fruit ready—even though it wasn't Friday. She glanced toward Lincoln's door when she went to wake Theo.
Still shut. And no sound of Romper, whimpering at the door to get out.
After breakfast, with still no sign of Lincoln, Kali checked the front door. His boots were gone.
She glanced around the room. Her stuff was all where she'd left it. No note waited. So, it could be worse. Maybe he had forgotten. Maybe he didn't really care, or maybe ... three sharp taps sounded from the kitchen.
Kali entered the room. Theo smiled up at her then pointed to the stove.
“You want more?”
He nodded.
“Can your stomach fit more?”
Another nod—a big one.
“Well, all right then.”
Kali rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms. Her back ached. Her feet ached. Her eyes ached. Her brain felt like it was about to self-destruct, and she was battling her stomach to keep the day's meals inside of her.
Two car accidents, both with one of the drivers over the limit. Over a dozen injuries from drunken hijinks. And then the usual flus and food poisonings and sprains. The ER had been swamped when Kali walked in that morning and only slightly less swamped when she walked out. As much as she enjoyed a holiday, the repercussions in the ER were hardly worth it.
“Up to much last night?” Shelley questioned as they changed out of their scrubs.
“BBQ at home. A couple drinks.” She hesitated. “Bit of dancing.”
“You?” Shelley pulled her shirt over her head. “Drinks and dancing? You still remember how to do that?”
Kali forced a laugh. “Apparently.”
“Well, that's good.” Shelley pulled off her sneakers. “Where'd you go? And who'd you get to babysit? Isn't Mrs. Martin 'all children should sleep in their beds and I should too'?”
Kali turned to whip her shirt off and quickly pulled on a tank top, forever alarmed at how Shelley could stand in her bra like that, knowing any stranger could walk in. Even in junior high, when most of the other girls hid their developing bodies, Shelley walked around the locker room, half naked, like she owned the place. “Just at home.”
“At home?”
Shelley slipped on a blouse but left it unbuttoned as she stepped toward Kali. “I've been meaning to ask you—I heard your building's been bought. You all right? Found another place?”
“Oh,” Kali shimmied out of her pants, one eye on the door, “I already moved, actually. A temporary place.”
“Why tem—”
Kali groaned inwardly. She might as well get it out. If she didn't, Shelley would pry until she felt satisfied. “I moved in with this guy. Just until I find a place.”
“A guy, huh?” Shelley grinned. “About time.”
“Not like that.” Kali grabbed her satchel and slung it over her shoulder. “The guy from the accident. Turns out he had an extra room. Crazy low rent.”
“The homeless guy? Kali, you're not—”
“He's not homeless. He just,” Kali paused, “looks it. Besides,” Kali pulled on her boots, “it's really short term.”
“He could be a rapist or a pedophile or—”
“He's not.”
Shelley finished buttoning her blouse. “If you were that desperate we could always squeeze you in. For a bit, at least.”
“I'm not desperate.” Not yet. “What about you? Good celebrations?”
“Family picnic. With the cousins and kids and in-laws. Screaming babies. Too much sun. It was a ball.”
Kali edged her way to the door. “Sounds great.”
“Seriously, Kal. You know anything about this guy?”
Kali let her shoulders fall. “We've been there a couple of weeks and—”
“Weeks!”
“And we've been fine so far. He's—” What was Lincoln? Weird. An introvert, clearly. Focused. Driven. “Decent. A very decent guy.”
“Well, watch yourself.” Shelley slipped on her pants and shoes. “And especially watch Theo.”
Kali hesitated before pushing open the door. “I will.”
In the psychologist's office Kali stared at the white walls, the painting of a coastal scene. That's what she wanted—to step right into the canvas, walk through into a new world. Escape.
“Miss. Johnson?”
“Yes?” Kali turned.
“Dr. Richards will see you now.”
Kali stood and nodded at the receptionist, who led her down the plushly carpeted hall.
She sat in the chair across from the psychologist. “Thank you for fitting me in.”
“It's a pleasure. Though I only have a few minutes.” She looked to her computer. “You said there was an episode last night?”
“The fireworks.”
“Ah.”
“I meant to put earplugs in for him before he went to sleep, but I forgot. He was pretty shaken up about it.”
She nodded.
“I just wondered if—” Kali's voice caught. She shook her head and sat straighter. “You think it may have caused any lasting damage? Worse damage. I mean. He had nightmares again last night but then seemed fine this morning.”
The doctor tilted her head and gave a motherly smile. “Kali.”
“I've read about it. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Repeated exposure to the stimulus can—”
“Children have nightmares.”
“I know, but—”
“Outside of his speech delay, his aversion to loud noises, Theo is a well-adjusted young boy. He's bright, active. Reasonably sociable.”
“Sociable? He hardly interacts with other children.”
“The girl at—” Dr. Richards looked to the file on her desk, “Mrs. Martin's. They seem to get along well.”
“They do, but—”
“Have you been encouraging him to speak, rather than enabling his decision not to?”
“I try, but—”
“It's simple, Kali. You don't allow him to use actions. You act as if you don't understand. You make him realize that without words he won't get what he wants.”
“If it's so easy, why don't you do it? Huh? Why hasn't he talked for you?”
“I told you.” Dr. Richards wore that smile again, like Kali was some stupid child. “My office needs to be a safe environment. An accepting environment. I do coach him, but you're the one who's with him the most. I see him for two 45 minute sessions once a month.”
Kali glared at the doctor. “You don't know what it's like. He doesn't even get angry. He gets upset. Sad. Like I'm betraying him.”
“You're not meant to be his friend.”
“I'm meant to be his mother!” Kali stood. “What do you expect me to do, not feed him if he refuses to talk? Watch him walk away hungry?”
“If he's hungry enough, he'll say what he wants to eat.”
“You're ridiculous.”
“Don't starve him, but push him.”
Kali turned to the door.
“Come back.”
She faced the doctor but stayed where she stood.
“I have homework for you. It's over a month away so you'll have time to mentally prepare for it. And to help Theo prepare for it too.”
Kali crossed her arms.
“On Natal Day I want you to take Theo down to the harbour for the fireworks. Talk to him about it beforehand. Often. Not about the noise, though do let him know it's loud, but about the light, the excitement, the beauty. Explain what the noise is, that it's safe. Show him pictures, videos.”
“I don't have TV.”
“Use the internet.”
Kali adjusted her satchel. “I don't have that either.”
Dr. Richards pursed her lips. “You have a library card. Either way, I'll show him videos too.”
“I don't know.”
“Well, good thing you have time to think about it. It would be good—for his noise issue at least, to show him that not all loud bangs are scary. That some are great.”
Kali stared at the doctor. Swallowed. She wanted to get angry. Was angry. But none of this was the doctor's fault.
“The world's a noisy place. Do you really want to raise a son who can't step out into it?”
And what if he had a breakdown out in that crowd? What if the nightmares got worse, if the explosions scared him so much he never spoke again? “I'll think about it.” Kali reached for the door handle. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”