Chapter 29
Lacey
It’s been weeks since Chris went to the Westwood Treatment Center and Max was worried like a mother hen. He hasn’t heard from him or any of the counselors there.
Chris had warned him that would happen but it didn’t stop him from wondering how the treatment was going. Worrying that Chris was detoxing. Worrying that he might leave early.
He even spent one morning worrying that he might not have coffee at the facility since it’s a stimulant and how bad that would upset him. It was getting a little out of hand.
“What if he leaves before he finishes the program Lacey?” He asks one day while we both sit on opposite ends of his couch, our legs draped over each others’ in the middle. We’ve been studying for hours, periodically interrupted with Max’s straying thoughts.
“He’s going to finish. Have faith in him.” I reassure him. “He checked himself in. You didn’t force him to go. That means he knows he needs help. He’ll do the right thing.”
“Yeah. You’re right.”
“I know. I’ve been right the last ten times but you’re still worrying about it.”
He nudges my leg with his playfully. “You’re right about that too. I can’t help it.”
I drop my textbook to the floor next to my pile of notebooks, highlighters and loose notes.
“Come on. Let’s go somewhere fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yes, fun. Remember that thing some people do when they aren’t busy worrying all day and night?”
I stand up and take his textbook from his lap, tossing it on top of mine with a thud. I end up dragging him from the apartment and drive to town as he mumbles about studying in the passenger seat.
I don’t really have a destination in mind when we leave but we end up at the outdoor mall. There’s bound to be something to do since on the weekends they have live bands on the grassy lawn and activities spread out most days.
After walking down the sidewalk in front of various stores I see a sign for a painting class. I can’t paint worth a shit but I bounce up and down in excitement that I found something the two of us can do and drag him in to sign up.
The next couple’s class starts in twenty minutes so we decide to wait around. We apron up and browse the wall of paintings looking for something we might like to do.
Max is being very quiet and I know he’s still thinking about Chris.
I feel closer to him than ever before after he opened up about his mom. He trusted me with such a dark and tragic memory, a tortured piece of himself. It’s was now up to me to cheer him up today and lift some of the heaviness from his shoulders.
He deserved to have fun without anything looming over his head tonight.
“I like this one.” He points to a beach scene with stars sprinkled across the top of the canvas. Purples and blues and grays blend together beautifully to create the sky, the sea and the sand.
For a moment I worry he likes it because it hurts to see the beach and remember what happened to his mom. I sometimes wonder if he enjoys the pain. Relishes in it as some form of self punishment.
He must see the sadness in my expression because he leans in close and whispers against my ear. “This painting reminds me of the night we met. The night you stripped down and jumped in the water and I couldn’t help but follow you.”
I smile at the memory and reach for the painting card. “Let’s do this one then. We can write down the request on the sign-up sheet.”
And so that’s what we do.
We paint the beach scene with the guidance of the painting instructor. Our canvases are side by side and blend together to compose the complete picture. He gets the left half and I get the right.
Each painting is uniquely ours, with different brushstrokes and different blends of the colors. Max is heavy on the dark blues while my side contains more purple. But it doesn’t look bad. It comes together to form the big picture, blending together side by side with stars speckling across the canvas with consistency.
We leave the painting class with smiles of contentment, our canvases in hand and hearts full of tranquility.
Max walks back into the kitchen from the bedroom. He had shut himself in there after getting a call from an unknown number.
“That was Chris.” He comes up behind me as I stir the spaghetti noodles and wraps his arms around my waist. “He said he’s doing great. Plans on staying at least another month. Maybe longer.”
“That’s great.” I say.
And I mean it. I may not have let on to Max, not wanting to increase his anxiety, but I was getting worried too after a month of silence. I give him a quick kiss and turn back to the bubbling spaghetti sauce and crackling hamburger meat in the skillet.
He opens the cabinets and takes out two plates, two glasses and two sets of silverware, jumping right in to help me set the table while I finish making dinner.
“I decided to go to the cops.”
“What?” I turn from my task in surprise at his admission. “Are you sure?”
I hate to think about what his dad did to his mom when she decided to do the same. To think about Max in that kind of danger, volunteering himself to be at risk to stop his father’s crimes, made my stomach drop in fear.
“I’m sure. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”
He sounds sure. He sounds at peace with his decision. Maybe he told Chris about it on the phone when they spoke and his brother gave him the assurance he needed to go for it. That it was the right thing to do.
“Wow. Okay. When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Wow.” I repeat.
My tone is laced with unease. I don’t want to discourage him from his brave decision. He needs to do this to move on. But I still can’t help but think about the boat trip he told me about and how Brad ended his mother’s life with so little regard.
“Don’t worry, Lace. I’ll be fine.” He doesn’t sound fully convinced but I can see he’s determined to go through with his decision regardless. “I can’t keep living in fear of what he might do. I can’t keep letting him control my life.”
“I know.” I rub his back.
“And I’m not going to let him hurt you. The fact that he even hinted at it…he has to be stopped. I can ruin him. I can take him down if I tell them what I know.”
“What if he finds out what you did before they arrest him?” I ask. “What if they don’t arrest him?”
“They will. Trust me. I know too much for them to let it go. And if he finds out before, I’ll deal with it. It’s worth the risk.”
I drain the meat in the sink and mix the sauce in the skillet when I’m satisfied that most of the grease is out. Next I fill each of our plates with a mountain of noodles and pour the sauce over the tops. I slide a plate in front of him and sit at his side, savoring the closeness of our arms brushing as we take our first bites.
“You know it’s none of my business what you do…”
“Everything about me is your business.”
He smiles slightly but goes on uninterrupted. “But I think you should press charges on David.”
I take a bite of spaghetti and savor the garlic and tomato flavors swirling on my taste buds. I give myself the time to think about what he wants from me. If he’s brave enough to report his father shouldn’t I be brave enough to press charges on David?
He had nothing on Brad in terms of sadistic threats.
But still…I was afraid of him.
“I don’t know…”
“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. You know that.” He says. “But I think it would make you feel good. Regain some control he stole from you. That’s how I felt after I decided to report my dad.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He nods meaningfully. “Okay.”
And we finish our dinner quietly, both thinking about what we know we need to do.
“You know what else I’ve been thinking?” He asks as we wash and dry our dishes side by side.
“What?”
“I’ve been thinking maybe you should move in.”
“Here?”
He laughs at my confusion and surprise. “Yes, here. Move in with me Lace.”
I’m overwhelmed with happiness at his invitation. Still, I have to make sure he means it.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure. You stay here every night already. You basically already live here.”
I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him with reckless abandon. Soapy suds drip from my hands down the back of his shirt but he doesn’t seem to care. He kisses me back and grips my hips, dropping the soaked towel he was using to dry dishes on the floor at our feet.
“Ok. I’ll move in with you.” I whisper against his lips.
He grins widely and pulls me back in for another kiss, nipping at my bottom lip playfully.
“Let’s go get your stuff.”
“Right now?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to spend one more day with you living anywhere else. I want you here with me. Officially.”
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Despite Max’s eagerness to move me into his apartment in one night it actually took us two to get all my stuff. I had a lot of clothes. And shoes. And decorative items scattered around.
We eventually got it all packed in his car over several trips back and forth.
I was ecstatic to be here. That he wanted me here every day and every night. He was right that I basically lived here already. Half my shit was already at his place and I was here every night.
But it felt so good for him to tell me it was what he wanted. That he thought about it and wanted to make it official instead of dancing around the subject.
Boxes still scattered his living room and I planned to spend all day unpacking. I already filled my half of his closet with my clothes and shoes.
It feels nice to settle in. Even nicer to catch the hidden smiles when he doesn’t think I’m looking as I open a new box, placing my things around his apartment and filling it with hints of my presence.
I spread my rug out across his living room floor, adding a hint of color to the room in front of his couch. My corner lamp is placed next to the couch, sending a soft glow of light for us to do our schoolwork late at night.
Our belongings become interwoven by the time I’m done.
His and mine become ours.
What Max said has weighed heavily on my mind. It was the right thing to do to report David and what he had done to me to the police. He may not have harassed me since the event but what if he did the same thing to another girl?
I couldn’t keep ignoring what had happened to me. Couldn’t give him the opportunity to do it again to someone else. Ignoring it didn’t make it go away.
My counselor had encouraged me to report him too. But she backed off easily enough when I let her know I wasn’t ready.
I was ready now.
So after I finish unloading the last box and filling his cabinets with cooking utensils I grab my purse and head to the police station.