Light in the Shadows
Page 18
“Clayton Reed, I would have moved into your room if I was able to. But something tells me they might frown on that here.” I snorted. Even though she was joking, I wouldn’t have put it past Ruby to try. “Lisa and I love you as if you were our own. We will always be here for you. No matter what,” Ruby said, giving me another hug. My throat felt uncomfortably tight, but in a good way. A really good way.
“I love you guys too. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me,” I told her quietly, proud of myself for being able to express my feelings in an appropriate way (thank you coping skills 101). Ruby furiously wiped at the tears that leaked out of the corners of her eyes. She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose nosily. Nothing like a cotton wad full of snot to kill the heaviness.
“Enough with all of this crying. It’s time for gifts!” Ruby enthused, giving me a watery smile before pulling three packages out of her bag.
“Ruby. You didn’t have to get me anything. You being here is more than enough,” I said, though I couldn’t help but feel the anticipatory excitement that I hadn’t felt in a long time. The kind of bubbling in your stomach that you only feel on Christmas morning. Or before you get behind the wheel of a car after getting your license.
Or before you kiss your girl for the first time.
Anyway…onto presents.
Ruby watched as I unwrapped the gifts. She and Lisa had gotten me a new charcoal kit, a ridiculously expensive set of paint brushes and a bunch of new sketch books. I couldn’t stop the goofy grin that spread across my face. There was nothing in this world she could have given me that would have meant more.
Drawing and painting were everything to me. I had become almost obsessive about it. But it was that indelible part of me that I refused to ever give up. I had lost so much already, but I would always have my art.
“I wasn’t sure exactly what you used, but the girl at the art store in Charlottesville assured me these were the best,” Ruby said a little nervously, as though worried I’d hate what she had gotten me. I ran my hand through my hair, a little overwhelmed by those prickly emotions again. But I didn’t worry about what those feelings could cause. Medication, when done right, was a fantastic thing.
“They’re great Ruby. Thank you. I’ll call Lisa later to thank her as well. This is just…” my voice trailed off and I grinned like an idiot at my aunt who was equally excited about my response to the presents.
Then suddenly Ruby’s mood sobered. The change in her demeanor threw me and I was instantly on edge. She reached into her bag and pulled out another gift. This one wasn’t wrapped in the traditional birthday paper as the others had been.
Looking closely, I could see that this one was bundled up meticulously in the Davidson Gazette, the local paper of Davidson, Virginia. I looked at Ruby questioningly. She was staring down at the mysterious gift and I could tell she was uncomfortable. What the hell was hiding in that paper? A f**king bomb?
“More gifts, Ruby? You shouldn’t have,” I joked, already hating the seriousness that had overtaken my typically jovial aunt. Ruby clutched the object in her hands and held it out for me to take. Slowly I reached for it. It was heavier than it looked. I couldn’t get a read on its contents through the thick paper.
I started to pull at the tape when Ruby covered my hand, stopping me. She looked at me with concern and I dropped the object on the table. “What is it Ruby? Just spit it out,” I said feeling more than a little annoyed by the evasive bullshit going on. What was so scary about a damn present?
Ruby sighed. “It’s from Maggie,” she said quietly.
Oh. Well, there was that.
I swear the air left my lungs and I felt like I was suffocating. My heart started beating in overtime and I thought I might pass out. It was nuts how just the mention of her name caused such an instant physical response. It was like my body reacted on a primal level to it.
Ruby and I never talked about Maggie. At least not in a very long time. I rarely mentioned Maggie at all unless it was within the safe confines of therapy. My memories of Maggie Young had proven complicated. My crazy, f**ked up mind had succeeded in twisting my beautiful girl into something that caused me complete and total anxiety. The darkness that lived and breathed inside of me, while kept at bay for the most part, still worked to destroy the one thing that I had wanted most in my life.
The girl I loved beyond reason. The one person who had been prepared to walk off the cliff with me.
And I had almost let her.
“Maggie?” I choked out, trying not to strangle on the effort it took to say her name.
Ruby nodded, her mouth tight with worry. I knew she was scared that mentioning the girl I had loved and lost would make me lose it. And part of me wanted to lose it. It bubbled there, just beneath the surface. The panic fluttered in my stomach and I struggled to keep it under control. I was tempted to get angry. To give into the rage that I felt when I realized how I may have sorted some crap out but in the process I had unleashed even more.
But I held on to that rational part of Clayton Reed who recognized the futility of my anger and panic. Knowing that it wouldn’t accomplish anything but set me back even further. I needed to work through these tangled emotions and sort through the chaos they still created. Maggie wasn’t the boogeyman. She was my light. My reminder of what I wanted in my life. Of what I strove to have again.
Holding onto that, I picked up the gift again and set it in my lap, fingering the creases in the folded paper. “She came into the shop last week,” Ruby began, watching me closely. I worked hard to keep my face perfectly neutral when inside I was cursing the f**king cosmos, fate, whatever, for this god damned tragedy that I called a life.
“I love you guys too. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me,” I told her quietly, proud of myself for being able to express my feelings in an appropriate way (thank you coping skills 101). Ruby furiously wiped at the tears that leaked out of the corners of her eyes. She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose nosily. Nothing like a cotton wad full of snot to kill the heaviness.
“Enough with all of this crying. It’s time for gifts!” Ruby enthused, giving me a watery smile before pulling three packages out of her bag.
“Ruby. You didn’t have to get me anything. You being here is more than enough,” I said, though I couldn’t help but feel the anticipatory excitement that I hadn’t felt in a long time. The kind of bubbling in your stomach that you only feel on Christmas morning. Or before you get behind the wheel of a car after getting your license.
Or before you kiss your girl for the first time.
Anyway…onto presents.
Ruby watched as I unwrapped the gifts. She and Lisa had gotten me a new charcoal kit, a ridiculously expensive set of paint brushes and a bunch of new sketch books. I couldn’t stop the goofy grin that spread across my face. There was nothing in this world she could have given me that would have meant more.
Drawing and painting were everything to me. I had become almost obsessive about it. But it was that indelible part of me that I refused to ever give up. I had lost so much already, but I would always have my art.
“I wasn’t sure exactly what you used, but the girl at the art store in Charlottesville assured me these were the best,” Ruby said a little nervously, as though worried I’d hate what she had gotten me. I ran my hand through my hair, a little overwhelmed by those prickly emotions again. But I didn’t worry about what those feelings could cause. Medication, when done right, was a fantastic thing.
“They’re great Ruby. Thank you. I’ll call Lisa later to thank her as well. This is just…” my voice trailed off and I grinned like an idiot at my aunt who was equally excited about my response to the presents.
Then suddenly Ruby’s mood sobered. The change in her demeanor threw me and I was instantly on edge. She reached into her bag and pulled out another gift. This one wasn’t wrapped in the traditional birthday paper as the others had been.
Looking closely, I could see that this one was bundled up meticulously in the Davidson Gazette, the local paper of Davidson, Virginia. I looked at Ruby questioningly. She was staring down at the mysterious gift and I could tell she was uncomfortable. What the hell was hiding in that paper? A f**king bomb?
“More gifts, Ruby? You shouldn’t have,” I joked, already hating the seriousness that had overtaken my typically jovial aunt. Ruby clutched the object in her hands and held it out for me to take. Slowly I reached for it. It was heavier than it looked. I couldn’t get a read on its contents through the thick paper.
I started to pull at the tape when Ruby covered my hand, stopping me. She looked at me with concern and I dropped the object on the table. “What is it Ruby? Just spit it out,” I said feeling more than a little annoyed by the evasive bullshit going on. What was so scary about a damn present?
Ruby sighed. “It’s from Maggie,” she said quietly.
Oh. Well, there was that.
I swear the air left my lungs and I felt like I was suffocating. My heart started beating in overtime and I thought I might pass out. It was nuts how just the mention of her name caused such an instant physical response. It was like my body reacted on a primal level to it.
Ruby and I never talked about Maggie. At least not in a very long time. I rarely mentioned Maggie at all unless it was within the safe confines of therapy. My memories of Maggie Young had proven complicated. My crazy, f**ked up mind had succeeded in twisting my beautiful girl into something that caused me complete and total anxiety. The darkness that lived and breathed inside of me, while kept at bay for the most part, still worked to destroy the one thing that I had wanted most in my life.
The girl I loved beyond reason. The one person who had been prepared to walk off the cliff with me.
And I had almost let her.
“Maggie?” I choked out, trying not to strangle on the effort it took to say her name.
Ruby nodded, her mouth tight with worry. I knew she was scared that mentioning the girl I had loved and lost would make me lose it. And part of me wanted to lose it. It bubbled there, just beneath the surface. The panic fluttered in my stomach and I struggled to keep it under control. I was tempted to get angry. To give into the rage that I felt when I realized how I may have sorted some crap out but in the process I had unleashed even more.
But I held on to that rational part of Clayton Reed who recognized the futility of my anger and panic. Knowing that it wouldn’t accomplish anything but set me back even further. I needed to work through these tangled emotions and sort through the chaos they still created. Maggie wasn’t the boogeyman. She was my light. My reminder of what I wanted in my life. Of what I strove to have again.
Holding onto that, I picked up the gift again and set it in my lap, fingering the creases in the folded paper. “She came into the shop last week,” Ruby began, watching me closely. I worked hard to keep my face perfectly neutral when inside I was cursing the f**king cosmos, fate, whatever, for this god damned tragedy that I called a life.
