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“Nolan says hi,” I told them as we got seated around the table.
“That’s nice,” Mom said while my stepdad smiled. “I still feel guilty I was crabby with him after the robbery.”
“Nah, it’s all cool with him,” I said, knowing full well it was true. Nolan didn’t hold grudges.
My stepdad said a few words about being thankful for our family, and we dug in. God, I loved my mom’s food. We ate and talked and laughed, and soon enough, I was having seconds.
“Have you heard any more from the police regarding the robbery?” my stepdad asked as he buttered his roll.
“No, and likely I won’t. Plenty of crimes go unsolved.”
“Doesn’t seem fair,” Mom said. “But you’re doing much better.”
“I am. Plus…I’ve been seeing a therapist.”
Her fork stilled midair. “Why haven’t you told us?”
“I wanted to keep it to myself for a while. But now I think it’s time.”
“Thanks for telling us,” my stepdad said and threw Mom a sharp look because she had the tendency to interrupt or offer opinions before hearing all someone had to say. “We’re here to listen if you want to share more.”
“Appreciate that. I got the therapist’s number from Harriet, the woman I met at the police station. I told you about her.”
“That’s right,” Mom said, digging into the sweet potatoes.
“It was a struggle to stay at my apartment those first few weeks,” I admitted. “Harriet had the same issue, so it was good to hear that it was totally normal after such a traumatic event. My therapist said so too.”
Mom’s eyes widened. “But we invited you to stay here. Multiple times.”
I tried to temper my frustration, wishing she’d give me the opportunity to finish my thoughts. “I know, but it would’ve been inconvenient with work and stuff. Besides…” I shoved food in my mouth to give myself time to decide how much to tell them. “Nolan offered too, so that was where I decided to stay.”
“With Nolan.” Her eyebrows scrunched together.
“Makes sense,” my stepdad said. “That way you could go downstairs to shower and get your things for work.”
“Exactly.”
“And that wasn’t putting Nolan out?” Mom asked.
“No. As a matter of fact, it made our friendship stronger.” Fuck, my stomach was throbbing.
“Guess I can see that.” She still sounded annoyed that I hadn’t sought them out, but I refused to feel guilty about it.
“We watched awesome shows, played music, cooked together, and…he became a comfort to me.”
Mom patted my hand, and I could finally see understanding shining in her eyes. “Well, then, I’m glad you have him.”
“I am too.” I cleared my throat. “Which leads me back to therapy.”
“Go on,” my stepdad said.
“It got to the point with Nolan where I was using him as a crutch, and Alicia, my therapist, told me that plenty of people who’ve been victimized have the same fears about going back to their place.”
“Was the fear that they’d come back or that it could happen again?” my stepdad asked.
“Good question. Probably that they’d return. I was also having nightmares about it, which didn’t help.”
Mom gasped. “I wish you’d told me.”
“I’m telling you now,” I replied sternly. “I didn’t want you to worry, but it was also something I needed to work through myself.”
“I can understand that,” my stepdad said, and God, I appreciated him trying to smooth the way.
“Anyway, I set myself small goals with Alicia’s help, and soon enough, I was back in my own place and working on feeling comfortable again.”
“Is it working?”
“For the most part, yes. I still hang out with Nolan, though, because I like having someone around.” I held my breath as my parents scrutinized me.
“You always liked being married too,” Mom said quietly.
“I did. And I’ve tried dating a little here and there, but for now, having Nolan around is pretty cool.”
My stepdad threw Mom a questioning glance, and I felt hot all over. I wasn’t brave enough to admit anything more about Nolan. Not tonight. But maybe that gave them enough to chew on.
“Anyway, about the nightmares.” I winced. “Discussing those brought on childhood memories.”
Mom stood to fill the gravy bowl. “What kind of memories?”
“About my biological father and what it was like being raised by him.”
Mom’s hands shook as she set the bowl on the table. “I’m sorry.”
“I used to blame myself for being a nuisance.”
“He always thought you were being defiant. And I didn’t know any better…until your diagnosis…”
“I don’t blame you.” I squeezed her trembling hand. “Besides, we eventually left him and got me some help, and then you met my real dad, and there was a happily ever after.”
My stepdad’s eyes softened.
“The point I’m getting to is…the night of the robbery, I thought I needed to do something brave and tough, and that if I didn’t, it would make me look weak. But now I know I did what I needed to do to save my life.”
