From the Embers Ch. 01

I didn't want to look at her - the long, combed hair and the ornate bun brought me pain and reminded me that she wasn't mine for all eternity. She was an attractive girl headed out for a date with whomever made her smile on the phone. My mind began to wander to the day she'd tell me she was moving out - as anyone should move out from their childhood home - and I began to ponder... what would I do when that day came?

"You okay?" She asked, shattering the silence with her cautious question. I glanced over at her and rested my eyes on her shallow smile for a moment before returning to stare at the road with a shallow smile of my own.

"Yeah, just-..." Again, I found myself clamping up.

"Don't freeze - keep going. Tell me what's going on up there." I rolled my shoulders uncomfortably - these were thoughts I'd never vent to anyone. I couldn't afford to be so weak - I didn't have that luxury. "Josh... please don't keep stuff from me. Especially not stuff that makes you sad..."

I huffed in defeat and spoke: "Just thinking about the future, you know. You're a grown-up girl about to start a career of your own..." I couldn't bring myself to finish.

Her hands balled up into aggressive fists, but she held her tongue. I felt worse than ever as I vented my weakness - I knew this would happen. She'd suffer guilt and this was just sabotage - making her feel as if she somehow needed to keep an eye on me. I decided to quickly change the subject and feigned an interest in the evening: "This girl... you haven't really told me anything about her. Who is she?"

She huffed through gritted teeth for a moment, before she seemed to calm down somewhat. "I've told you what she told me. That's all you need to know - she's a psychologist working at a private office in the town. She's got typical girly interests - dogs, walks, traveling, cooking and that kind of stuff. So don't talk about poop or eyes, please."

I rolled my eyes, feigning the possibility that I had any other topic in my repertoire. "I'm not all about those things, you know. I'm-..." I tried to come up with something, but fell flat.

"You're not just about those things. Remember her interests, ask her what she likes doing - just think of our first date, kay? You'll do fine." It was weird to hear her talk about our evening like that, but I accepted it for what it had been - a lesson in the workings of women.

She'd left the car without a word - obviously upset with me, even if she tried to hide it. I wouldn't say I knew her well, but I knew her well enough to see that I had royally pissed her off somehow. I didn't even have time to remind her to be careful before she waved me off and set off down the parking lot on her way to meet whoever this mystery-person was.

Dejectedly, I made my way into the restaurant and was led to my seat, where I waited impatiently while tapping my fingers - staring down at my dead, motionless phone. "Doctor Coomer?" I startled as I heard the name Sarah had regretfully chosen for me. With a sigh, I rose up and turned around only to freeze as I saw a beautiful, tall woman with blonde, curled, voluminous hair stare a pair of deep-blue eyes back at me. She wore a lot of make-up and fake lashes, but she wore it so damn well it was hard not to let my jaw fall slightly agape at the sight of her. Long, naked legs ended up in a professional-looking, expensive dress that complimented the bright white of her smile. I swallowed nervously and corrected: "Call me Josh. I never finished my PhD - didn't really get far at all, actually. I take it you're Cougress?"

I imagined her cheeks might've flushed - as mine did - as she was reminded of her name. She reached out and grabbed my hand for a handshake and grinned. "It's Anne."

Anne was an impressive specimen. In addition to being a workaholic herself, she was an eye-catching beauty whose attention I could definitely get addicted to. Even as she ate, she kept her eye-contact, never once letting the atmosphere get awkward between us. She also managed to steer the conversation over towards me, rather than anything pertaining to my work, though we had briefly touched on how much our professional lives mattered to us. As dessert arrived, she leaned on her palm to grin at me and threw a glance down at my mareng-powdered homemade vanilla ice-cream and spoke: "I have to say - you're far more interesting than your profile led me to believe." This took me by surprise. I'd never considered myself - Josh - as a person to be much to brag about.

"Thanks? I think? Given your profession, I'm not so sure being interesting is a good thing." This earned me an earnest giggle.

"You're well reflected enough to know your limitations and quirks, which isn't always a good thing. Happy people are usually foolishly arrogant and confident."

"I'm plenty arrogant, though and this is not helping me earn any humility. Being on a date with someone as beautiful as you might go to my head, you know." I couldn't understand where this cold confidence was coming from. I almost felt as if I was at work - assuming my 'out-of-house'-persona.

It made her smile so much she concealed her mouth. "You are a strange one, Josh. When I came in here, I was sure you'd be shy, but you're quite open." I shrugged. The girl was good - what could I say?

I noticed how she'd been throwing glances over my left shoulder several times, only to smile briefly before returning to meet my eyes again. As I made my shrug, I saw her do it again and finally, she released a concealed sigh and asked: "Do you have that problem where you meet patients during your off-hours, but can't remember whether they actually were a patient or someone else?" I narrowed my eyes and stared up into the ceiling ponderously. That was a complicated question. Finally, I decided it was best to turn around and saw, to my horror, my sister winking back at me - seated across from some guy in a loose-fit hoodie. I blinked at her with disbelief before returning to address my date again. "That's... my sister." I sighed, realizing how preposterous it would be to assume she'd let me go without supervision.

This greatly amused Anna, who raised her hand to cover her mouth. "Oh my. Judging by your reaction, I take it you didn't know?"

I shook my head. "Not a clue, but she was being weird when we drove here... honestly, and please misunderstand me correctly, but she's more invested in my dating-career than I am."

"No wonder, given your history... it's pretty cute, though. I suppose since you only have each other, your recent closeness must be precious to her." I had left out the closeness - I wasn't prepared to get my ass drilled open in prison, after all. But something she said stuck with me. As casually as I could, I chewed down a bit of the ice cream and asked: "Do you think our history's got anything to do with it? Is it that thing with trauma-bonding?"

She bobbed her head agreeingly. "Yes, I suppose it could be. She's also probably afraid you'd end yourself."

If I had any wine in my mouth, I'd have expelled it at that moment. "She keeps saying that and I keep assuring her I won't."

She folded her hands in front of her platter and asked: "This might be a heavy topic for a first date, but... I am talking to a man who doesn't have too much experience with handling his own emotions, so I hope you can forgive me for it." I motioned for her to go ahead - any help I could get was welcomed. She continued: "You were twenty when it happened and until then, he was your sole caregiver. Your custodian. The traditional male role model is one who provides safety and survival for the family as a whole, yes?"

It made sense to me. "Sure, I can see what you mean... but why's my age-" I hadn't even finished before the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

My father had been miserable for a long time. He'd spoken of his battle with life since we were kids, but only ever to me... I knew something was wrong - how it had something to do with his drinking and he obviously fought hard to last as long as he did. But it hadn't struck me that he'd fought for something other than short-sighted survival... he'd waited until I was old enough to take care of her. Seeing my realization, she took a sip of her coffee and looked back over my shoulder: "You paying down your debts as fast as you could and saving up a nest egg... I wouldn't put it past her to attribute some darker motives to your behavior." I felt a momentary discomfort as I attempted to imagine myself in her shoes.

"Christ almighty..." I muttered. I then felt worse as I remembered what we'd done - how much of it had been motivated by her fear of losing me to myself? I put my fork down as I combated my nausea, the full weight of my sins now dawning on me.

Anne soon realized that her words had struck me so profoundly and quickly shot in: "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-... Sorry. That was too dark and too prying."

I raised my hand dismissively and assured her: "It's not like you can turn it off. If I were to look into your eyes, it's not like I wouldn't analyze it - don't worry... I just-... damn, you're good." I had to commend her for it, despite my soul-shattering realization.

At that moment, I also felt a kinship with Anne as I recognized the regret. She was good at what she did - damned good. And, like me, she struggled to distance what she did for who she was. I looked into her blue eyes and forced a smile: "I wouldn't mind meeting you again... as unprofessionally as we can." The balancing act of masking my dread while still expressing my interest was difficult, but seemed to relieve her from her momentary stress.

She smiled again: "I'd love that, Josh. I'm not sure your sister would, though - she's been glaring at me all evening." I turned over my shoulder quickly to see that she was, in fact, less bemused than I'd pegged her for earlier in the night.

"I'll glare right back at her." I promised.

When the evening came to an end, Anne excused herself with a calm, smiling "call me soon" and a hug - not what I'd expected, but it was better than the handshake I had prepared for her. I didn't want things to get too awkward, so I lingered for a moment to toy around with my phone before deciding that it was time I departed towards the car, where I'd likely have to wait for a while as Sarah wrapped up her date. I couldn't bring myself to look at her - not after the evening's realizations and I soon found my mind traversing the streams of time to bother me with those horrendous images and the pain I'd caused my patient. With a grunt, I rose up and departed from the restaurant to make my way out to the car, where I sat and felt the cold, protective apathy set in.

I missed my 16 hour workdays. Everything had, somehow, appeared easier back then. Survival had been the issue - survival, productivity, puzzles... everything and anything but this. My frustrations ended as I saw Sarah depart from the restaurant, turning my melancholy to disgust with myself. I felt a creeping dread grow ever-increasing as she wandered closer next to the comparatively shorter, but well-built, handsome man. I'd never been violent, but I wanted to punch his pristine, white teeth out the moment I saw his boyish grin as they paused by the car.

I sharpened my ears to listen to the conversation outside, where she spoke: "Well, it was fun. I'll hit you up for next time."

She was standing ass-first a few paces away from my window, but I still couldn't bring myself to look at her. "Well, the night doesn't need to end yet... I live just down the block." I shuddered at the lust in his voice, but felt some relief when I heard my sister decline: "Nah, sorry. I'm really tired and I'd-"

I heard a yelp and my head quickly shot towards them. I was out of the door standing by the car in a split second - I might not have been too swift in my day-to-day life, but I'd dodged more than enough shit due to my reflexes. He held his hands to her cheeks and was pushing towards her, moving in for a kiss as I shouted: "Hey, Romeo - it's enough." I didn't really know where it came from - I wasn't usually so confrontative, but I was still her brother, damnit.

His lips drew into a displeased shrug as he spoke over her shoulder: "Calm down before you sprain something, gramps." I didn't take offense as much as I was surprised. Did I really look that much older than him? I'd stepped a bit closer and I guess the guy saw an opportunity to appear macho by flashing his grin at my stumped sister and released her to address me: "Kindly fuck off - this doesn't have anything to do with you."

Maybe it was the self-loathing or maybe I just wanted to think of something else, but I found myself retorting: "It's got everything to do with me, you little shit." Brimming with confidence, he shot her a glance before a sucker-punch to my left cheek knocked me back a step.

One thing that's nice about knowing anatomy is that it adds some things to those boyish dreams men have about fighting in parking lots. As I reeled backwards, I kicked him in his upper abdomen and struck upwards, jostling his diaphragm to void his lungs of air. It was enough to knock him on his knees, where he remained in a breathless panic. I felt the rush of blood in my ears as my hands began to tremble - I was excited, despite the ache to my cheek. Maybe it was the adrenaline or maybe I was just following some biological trail, but I bent down to his side and whispered: "Next time, I'll fucking kill you, you little shit. Never contact her again."

Sarah was stumped and wide-eyed - staring at me with utter disbelief. She'd never seen me do anything violent or even close to aggressive, but I'd just beaten her date in front of her. Deciding against waiting until the bulky bastard got up, I grabbed her by the wrist and led her back to the car, opening the passenger seat to press her inside before we made our escape from the still-recovering idiot on the pavement.

I felt her continue to stare at me in disbelief. I attempted not to touch my aching cheek, but I felt somewhat heroic for having come to my sister's aid and thus I let her gawk at me, but as we left the city, I found it natural I broke the silence: "Sorry... turns out I'm a bit overbearing, too."

She blinked and leaned back against her seat. "Stop apologizing... that was... nice, I think. Not to him, obviously, but I really didn't want that guy's lips anywhere close to me." I braved a cautious smile as I shifted gears and placed us on our lane in the freeway.

Somewhat relieved, I asked: "I take it there wasn't any sweet music or butterflies?"

"God no. More like screeching speakers and moths. Obvious minority complex... he kept talking about IQ, chess and his salary." I was glad to hear she had her priorities straight, but wished she wouldn't end up with some broke artsy-type.

I said: "At least he wasn't talking about shit. No second date, then?" She snorted a laugh the way only a sister could, which served as her answer.

She followed up with a cautious question of her own and a malicious-looking grin: "How about yours? She was prettier than in her pictures and it looked like she was having fun. Any drama?" I hesitated in answering. "She gave me some insights into a woman's mind. I-..." I locked up again. The lump in my throat came from nowhere - my sins dawning on me like a hammer to my forehead.

I guess I must've televised it, as I lurched forwards slightly and saw her pained grimace. "What's wrong? What did she say?"

I mustered the courage to speak: "I-... do you often worry about me following after dad's example? You're not afraid of me..." I couldn't say the word and simple used a finger-gun to my forehead. She fell silent, leaned further back against the comfy, foam seat and began to twiddle her fingers.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do worry - a lot. The way you've been working hard on paying down the loans and stuff - it just... it's just like you've been packing your bags. I'm not sure which one feels worse - you not wanting to spend time with me or you leaving me." The hurt in her voice was tangible and heartbreaking. Considering what I'd done a few days earlier, it was odd how I couldn't reach out and clap her knee assuringly. I felt like I didn't have the right - not after making her feel that way.

"S-... I hope you know I'd never do that to you. It's like you said, we've lost pretty much everything. I've got high hopes you'll find something - someone other than me one day, but I'll still be around, you know."

In silence, she looked down at her knees with a deep frown contorting her face. "Will you, though? When you return to work... won't it be like losing you all over again?"

I answered quickly and matter-of-factly: "No, it won't. These days have taught me I've got a lot to figure out and a lot to catch up on. I might've given you stability, but I haven't been there to support you. I'd like to do that, if you'd let me." I felt her warm, little hand land atop mine and turned to see that her mascara had begun to run down her cheeks in thick, wide, black streaks.

"Of course I'll let you. But don't go ditching me for that girlfriend of yours."

I scoffed. "Hold your horses, missy. We had a nice talk, but it ended up more like therapy than a date. She made me think about some stuff that-... well, I think we should talk about it. We haven't really talked about it." I felt her hand tighten in mine and in the darkness, I could see some color in her cheeks.

"Yeah... guess we should talk about it. I've told you how I feel about it - just some harmless fun. But I haven't really asked you what you think about it." I almost felt like trying to disgust her with the same foul mouth she'd used during the sins, but I was learning that we were two different people in these varied scenarios. "I'm-... " I hadn't even thought about how I felt about it - not really. I'd been asking myself about her motivations and her reasons - I'd been considering her over myself.

"God damn that was fun." I surprised myself as I said it. I could feel my shoulders falling - as did that invisible stress I hadn't really noticed in her posture, either. I kept going: "I think it was definitely the most intense experience I've ever had - in a good way... but... I'm regretting it. I keep asking if it was something you really wanted to do or if you did it because you're worried about me."

"Pull over." Her order came so quickly and unexpectedly that I nearly veered off the road. The authority in her strict voice was surprising, but having lived in the strict hierarchical society of a 21st century hospital, I obeyed commands without question.

As soon as the car came to a halt, I felt her hand tighten around mine and I turned to see fresh streams of mascara had begun to trickle down her cheeks. "Please, Josh. Can't you accept that you're a good person? You're not a monster that can warp my mind - I do things because I want to... and I wanted it really bad. I can't make sense of this, I just know I had a lot of fun." We met eyes, both equally confused. I reached a hand out and stroked her bundled hair. Her lips trembled as she continued: "I-... I'm not ready for that fun to end. I don't think so, at least. Tonight, when I saw you with her... it didn't feel nice at all. I thought it would, but it didn't."

I shrugged. "Same here. I was hoping I was just a bit overprotective, but I don't think that's the entire story." With a hopeful smile, she rubbed my hand.

I hesitated before voicing the next: "You'll... tell me if..." Her lips furled upwards in her trademark malicious smile.

She cocked her head and spoke: "Sounds like you're thinking it'll happen again. What's that saying? Something about selling the pelt before the bear's shot?"

I smirked sideways - she was enjoying this far too much. She leaned in close for a hug and in so doing breathed warmly into my ear. "It's nice to hear some realistic optimism from you, for once."