She patted my shoulder. “You can too. I’ll help. Don’t you worry.”
The sun started to set but I kept working. The dirt would break away from the plants and I could dust it away to find roots long and thick hidden away. Repotting them and positioning them in dark soil to stand straight turned into one small accomplishment after another. They looked alive, new, and like they were thriving every single time.
Lorraine released us so we could go clean up while she made dinner. I showered away the grime but didn’t feel at all disgusted with the chore we’d just done. Instead, I felt rejuvenated, reenergized, ready to conquer it all. Especially when I saw some of our work displayed around the house.
Jay even told me I had placed the plants just right. They stood tall, centered, and almost proud. I decided I would water them over my stay and enjoy my newfound skill. Such a small chore reminded me that hard work paid off, that if Jay and I worked hard enough, we could come out of all this ahead.
I jumped when my phone rang.
And my heart sank when I saw Dougie’s name on the screen.
Jay walked by and whisked it out of my hands. “Not today. Or this month.”
I bit my lip, thinking over what was best. “I should talk to him.”
“He should learn to give you space.”
“I don’t know if that much space will end up being healthy for us.”
“I’m trying here, Meek, but you and I both know what I want to say.”
“What? That what we had wasn’t healthy?”
“Something along those lines.”
“Well, there were a lot of unhealthy things we were both doing back in LA,” I grumbled because the call had soured the day. It reminded me that this was just a little bubble and we couldn’t get lost in it. We needed to face reality: we were both in shitty situations.
“You’re right. I’m thinking you’ll get a call from our boss soon too. That’s the only damn reason I haven’t dunked your phone into the toilet at this point.”
Normally, Jay would have avoided a business call at all costs. Our agency had a rough time getting a hold of him. They called me for updates, instead. “Your role in this movie is going to be phenomenal because you’re holding up your end.”
He nodded. “I’m ready for it, I think.”
“You were always ready for it, Jay.” I whispered, meaning every word.
“You might be one of the only people that believe that, but I’ll prove it to the world.” He winked at me. “If I have to take my shirt off a few times to win the Oscar for icing on the cake, I’ll do that too.”
“Oh, God.” I rolled my eyes and started to walk past him. He wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me back, chuckling at my disgust with his arrogance.
His arm dug right into the spot of pain, though. I tensed and sucked in air as I grabbed his arm to ward off the pressure against the bruising.
“What?” He jumped back immediately, my sensitivity shocking him. His hands were up in the air like he thought he was the one who’d done something wrong. “What is it?”
I held the ribs I knew weren’t broken but were definitely bruised. “It’s nothing.”
I sounded defeated, as meek as my nickname, and embarrassed. All the things I definitely was in that moment.
I didn’t want to admit to him that I was injured, didn’t want to lie either. He scanned me and I must have looked a complete waste hunched over as I breathed in deep, trying to will the pain away.
“I need you to talk to me. I need to know at some point, Mikka.” He ground out the words. I looked up to find his jaw working and the muscles across his body tensing.
“What’s there to say?” I could search for decades, through every experience ever written and talked about and still not have the right words. Pain and shame couldn’t be portrayed accurately. “The stories I have don’t need to be spoken any further into existence.”
“Fine,” he growled and stalked forward. Before I could stop him, he gripped the zipper of my shirt “Can I?”
I stared into his intense azure eyes. My heart beat a mile a minute as I whispered the question I knew the answer to already, “Can you what?”
“Little Pebble, I need to see. You need to show me.” One of his hands went to my cheek and he rubbed his thumb back and forth as if my skin was made of fragile porcelain.