Chapter 5: Bring Me Back: Chapter 5

“Well, look who it is.”

I wrap my arms around Drew’s shoulders. “Surprise.”

“I thought they were fucking with me when they said I had a visitor.” He pulls back and eases himself into the chair across from me. “What are you doing here?”

“I have therapy today, so I came a bit earlier to see you.” I glance at the reddish-purple marks around his wrists. “You okay?”

He shrugs. “Had a rough night.”

A rough night in a place like Clearview means more than the usual . “What happened?”

“Trish was annoying me. You know how she always tries to get on my nerves to set me off.”

I frown. “How long did they restrain you for?”

“I don’t know.” He chuckles. “I punched Billy in the face though. Got him good.”

“Poor Billy. He’s always getting beat up.”

“The man needs a raise putting up with me, that’s for sure.” He pulls his knees up to his chest. “So, how’s the renovation going?”

“Good. It’s keeping me busy.”

“I can’t wait to see the place when I get out of here.”

“June tenth. Only a few more months.”

“Just in time for summer.” His green eyes widen. “Let’s throw a Fourth of July party!”

“And who are we inviting to this party? We’re the only friends we have.”

“You’ll make friends for the both of us.”

I laugh and shake my head. “We’ll talk about it when the time comes.”

“Fine.” His expression changes, and he rubs his wrists. “Thanks for coming to visit me, Nix. Seriously. It means a lot to me that you’re still keeping in touch.”

I reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder. “I told you I wasn’t going to forget about you once I left.”

Dr. Erica waltzes into the room and smiles. “Phoenix, it’s so good to see you.”

“It’s nice to be back. Sounds weird, but I miss this place.”

“It’s not weird at all. It’s common for patients to miss the safety and security of a place like this.”

Drew holds up his marked wrists. “Can’t imagine I’ll miss this.”

Dr. Erica frowns. “I’m sorry that happened to you, but you know the protocol. If you’re a danger to yourself or others—”

“I have to be restrained and sedated.” Drew rolls his eyes. “I know, I know.”

Dr. Erica turns to me. “Are you ready?”

I nod and hug Drew. “Try to keep your cool, okay? Whenever you get mad, just think about our Fourth of July party.”

He ushers me toward the door. “Don’t worry about me, Nix. I’ll be fine.”

I follow Dr. Erica down the hallway and into her office.

“It’s strange being back here when I’m not a patient.”

She smiles. “You’ve come a long way.”

I sit in the familiar yellow chair and smooth my hands over the armrests. “Sometimes it feels like I’m in a different place than I was, and other times I feel like I’m right back where I started when I came here.”

“That’s because you’re still the same person, with the same core beliefs and values. As you experience life, you learn and you grow, and you become different versions of yourself, but you’re still the same person essentially.”

“Tell me, how has your first week been?”

I let out a soft laugh, gazing out the window behind my therapist’s chair. “Eventful.”

Her eyebrows lift. “How so?”

“I’ve been keeping busy with renovating the house.”

“That’s good.” She scribbles something on her notepad.

“I’ve been running every day.”

“Excellent. That’s important.”

“And I met my new neighbors.”

“Oh?”

“The father is a police officer, and so is his oldest son, James. I’d say he’s around my age, late twenties. His brother Leo is a few years younger.”

Erica glances at me over the rim of her glasses. “Making friends is a great way to become part of the community. I know you were nervous about living on your own before you left here. How have you been feeling?”

“I get nervous at night, but it helps knowing there’s a family of cops next door.”

“And you’ve been taking your medication?”

I nod. “I wish the antidepressant didn’t dehydrate me. I’m drinking so much water, half my day is spent running to the bathroom to pee.”

She chuckles. “That’s an irritating side effect.”

“But hey, I guess it’s better to feel thirsty all the time than to feel like I want to die, right?”

She writes something on her pad again. “Yes, that’s the point of your medication. Have you had any suicidal thoughts since you’ve been out?”

“No.” I glance down at my wrist. “It’s strange. I don’t feel like I want to die, but I also don’t feel excited about living.”

Erica sets down her pen and slides off her glasses. “So then it bears asking: What do you think would make you feel excited about living?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think about it. What makes you happy?”

I heave a sigh and focus on the clouds drifting past the window. “I enjoy running and reading. I like going out to eat and trying different foods. But I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“You’ll make friends in time, but you don’t need anyone to go to a restaurant with. You can sit by yourself and enjoy your own company.” She lifts a finger. “Or you can take a cooking class. You’d probably make some friends there too.”

A cooking class would be interesting. I could learn how to cook something other than frozen pizza.

“You know, Nix. Your father left you a lot of money. He’d want you to spend it on the things that make you happy.”

Other than buying things to maintain the house, I haven’t spent any of it for myself. “I don’t want to spend it. I don’t want anything. I just want my dad back.”

The money doesn’t mean anything without him.

“Not spending it won’t bring him back.”

I drop my chin. “I know.”

“Have you been writing in your journal?”

I chew my bottom lip. “No. But I’ve been reading the affirmations.”

“What’s stopping you from writing?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just not sure what I should be writing.”

“There are no rules, Nix. You can write whatever you want, whatever comes out in that moment. You can write what you’re feeling, what’s weighing on your mind. Many people find it helpful to write down a few things they’re grateful for, and some positive affirmations of their own.”

I snort. “I can’t write affirmations.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. They’re so… cheesy. What would I even say?”

“An affirmation is a way to praise yourself. Think of the things you appreciate about yourself. The things you’re proud of.”

My thumb rubs idle circles around my scar while I think. “I haven’t done anything to be proud of.”

“According to who?”

I shrug.

“You’re living every day with depression. You overcame a suicide attempt, and you’re working on building a new life in the wake of that. I’d say you have a lot to be proud of. Your strength. Your courage. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.” She points to her chest. “Go to the core of who you are as a person. The things you value. The things you consider to make yourself a good friend, or family member. And it doesn’t have to be cheesy. It doesn’t even have to be something you believe.”

My eyebrows press together. “Why would I praise myself for something I don’t believe to be true?”

“Because everyone has to start somewhere. You’ve been working on self-love, and self-worth, so you’re not going to have a list of things you love about yourself right off the bat. But the idea is to practice saying it until it becomes the truth. Force a new pathway of thought patterns. Take control of what you think by feeding your mind positive thoughts.” She shrugs. “Eventually, you’ll start to believe it.”

I laugh. “You’re telling me to fake it until I make it?”

“Exactly.”

“That I can do.”

After spackling for the rest of the day, I clean up and head outside with a bag of scraps to toss into the trash.

But when I get to the side of my house, my garbage pail is missing.

“I rolled out the garbage for you, Miss Bridges. Pickup is tomorrow.”

My head snaps up toward Jim Russo’s voice. He’s standing on his porch in his uniform.

“Thank you, sir. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s not a problem at all.” His gaze flicks down to my stained clothes. “How’s it going in there? My boys mentioned you’re doing some renovating.”

“I’m just doing minor things for now. I’ll have to hire someone to take care of the roof, and the deck out back.” I give him a sheepish smile. “It’s overwhelming when I think about it all at once, so I’m starting slow.”

“I have a guy who can take a look at your bulkhead. I have a roof guy too.” He chuckles. “I know a lot of guys. I’ll get you their business cards.”

“That’d be great. Thank you so much.”

I turn to walk down the driveway, but he calls out to me again. “Miss Bridges, do you have dinner plans?”

“No, sir.”

“Why don’t you join us tonight?”

I shake my head. “I wouldn’t want to impose. Thank you for the offer though.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. It’s not an imposition. We’d love to have you.”

I stare into his kind eyes.

His round cheeks push up as he smiles. “All my sons do is argue at the table. Put me out of my misery so I have someone to talk to.”

I bite back a smile. “They do argue a lot, huh?”

He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Miss Bridges, you have no idea.”

I take a deep breath. “Let me get cleaned up, and I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic. I’ll see you soon.”

I change into a pair of jeans and pull on a black long-sleeve top. I rake a brush through my long strands and staring at my plain reflection in the mirror, I figure a little mascara won’t hurt either. I know I’m not as put-together on the inside as I look on the outside right now, but Dr. Erica told me to fake it until I make it. It’s the first time I’ve put effort into my appearance, and it feels kind of good.

After I grab a box of cookies from the mini-mart down the road, I head over to the Russo’s. My father taught me to never show up anywhere empty-handed, and I smile down at the box in my hands.

The door swings open, and Leo’s wide grin greets me. “Hey, neighbor.”

I sweep my hand in front of my body. “See this? This is how to enter a neighbor’s home. One person rings the bell, and the other person lets them in.”

“Very civilized. I prefer climbing in through the window.” He smirks as he grips my forearm and yanks me into the house. “Come on. We can watch my brother have a meltdown in the kitchen.”

“Why is he having a meltdown?” My eyes bounce around as I’m dragged through the hallway. Their house is the exact model as mine, except theirs looks more like a home. Lived in. Pictures hang from the walls, and shoes are scattered around the entryway.

“Because he takes his cooking very seriously, and you’re the first guest we’ve had in forever.” He eyes my chest. “Well, the first female guest.”

I swat his arm. “Don’t look at my boobs unless you want to eat your dinner through a straw tonight.”

Leo throws his head back and laughs. “God, I’m glad you’re here, Nixie.”

Affection warms my chest. He’s so open with his emotions. His laugh is loud, his smile is huge, and he isn’t afraid to say whatever’s on his mind. He’s a breath of fresh air, and I hope his family appreciates that. I know I do, and he deserves to hear it.

“I’m glad you’re here too, Leo.”

His steps falter as he looks down at me. “You sound like you mean that.”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” I shove the box of cookies at his chest. “Here, take these.”

When we reach the dining room, Leo tosses the cookies onto the table, and breaks open the seal. “Chocolate chip is my favorite.”

Jim stands from his seat at the head of the table and smacks his hand. “Don’t eat them now. You’ll ruin your appetite.” He shakes his head as he leans in to hug me. “I swear, it’s like these boys haven’t aged a day since they were five.”

I chuckle. “I can believe it.”

“James is in the kitchen.” He points toward the doorway. “Leo, show her around and get her something to drink.”

Leo salutes him and takes my elbow. “I hope you’re not looking for alcohol because this is a dry house.”

“Water is fine with me. I don’t drink.”

“Why not?”

I shrug. “Never liked it.”

It’s an easier answer than the truth: Alcohol is a downer, and it fucks with my meds.

Leo enters the kitchen and whispers, even though he’s being loud enough for the whole house to hear him. “Here we see the chef in his natural habitat. We cannot disturb the artist while he’s in the middle of creating his masterpiece.”

James sighs. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

I roll my lips together so I don’t start laughing. “Also, that might be the worst Australian accent I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m working on it.” Leo slaps James on the back and massages his shoulders. “When’s dinner? Our guest has arrived, and I’m starving.”

James doesn’t turn away from the stove as he speaks. “Considering I didn’t know we were having a guest up until ten minutes ago, you’re going to have to wait.”

My stomach sinks. “I’m sorry. I told your father I didn’t want to be an imposition, but he insisted.”

James turns around to look at me with regret etched on his face. “That came out wrong. I don’t mind that you’re here. I just want to make sure I have enough for everyone.”

I step forward to stand beside him at the stove. “Anything I can do to help?”

He shakes his head. “Guests don’t help.”

“I’m your neighbor, not Queen Elizabeth.”

“Is there a difference? A guest is a guest.”

“I told you, Nixie. He takes his work very seriously.” Leo taps the doorframe before he heads back to the dining room.

My eyes bounce around the room, trying to settle on anything other than the way James’s arms look in his fitted black T-shirt. “Well, can I set the table at least?”

“You want to help? Tell me how this tastes.” James lifts the spoon from a large pot filled with creamy red sauce and brings it to his lips to blow on it first. Something about that thoughtful gesture has my heart rate kicking up a notch.

His warm honey eyes watch me with rapt attention as I lean forward to sip from the spoon. It’s sweet with a zing of spices. “Wow. This is delicious, James. You made this from scratch?”

He nods and then swipes the excess sauce from the corner of my mouth with his thumb. Instead of wiping it on a napkin, he licks it off his finger. And I feel that one gentle lick all the way between my legs.

This shouldn’t be the single most erotic moment in my life, yet here I am, panting like a dog in heat.

I clear my throat and take a step back. “That reminds me, thank you for leaving that container of food on my porch last night.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “You should eat protein after a run.”

“Pfft. A pizza hits three of the major food groups.”

He shakes his head, but the hint of a dimple sinks into his cheek.

“It was really good. I wish I could cook like you. I’ve actually been thinking of enrolling in a cooking class. Do you know of any in the area?”

“I learned to cook from my mother.” He twists the knob and shuts the burner. “I didn’t take any classes.”

“I guess I can Google it. There has to be something.”

“I can teach you.”

My eyebrows jump. “You’d do that?”

“It’d save you the money.”

“I can pay you for your time.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t take your money.”

“Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind, then I’ll take you up on that offer. Just a few simple dishes, nothing fancy.”

He nods. “Sure.”

“I’m going to drop dead from hunger in here,” Leo yells. “And Dad’s looking a little pale. I think he has low blood sugar.”

James pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why don’t you set the table if you’re so hungry?”

“I’m too weak to move.”

I stifle a laugh. “Just think, last week you were looking for him to come home.”

“It was a lot quieter here without him.”

I pat him on the shoulder and snatch the bread basket off the counter. “You know you wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

James carries in a bowl for each of us, and then we’re shoveling forkfuls of pasta into our faces.

“This tastes just like your mother made it.” Jim dabs his mouth with a napkin. “You’ve outdone yourself, James.”

“Was she a chef?” I look around the table, posing the question to anyone who wants to answer.

Jim shakes his head. “She just loved feeding her family. I never saw her as joyful as she was when she was in the kitchen. It came naturally to her.” The boys remain quiet, staring down at their bowls as their father continues. “Leo never had the patience for it, but James was like his mother’s shadow. They were really close.”

Leo glances up at me. “Dad and I would tinker with our toys in the garage until we’d smell dinner.”

I smile. “That’s how I was with my dad. I wanted to learn whatever he was doing. Whether he was under the hood of his car, or mowing the lawn, I was right out there with him asking him a million questions.”

Jim laughs. “And I bet he answered every one of them.”

“He did.”

Leo takes a gulp of his iced tea. “What about your mom? Were you close with her too?”

I almost laugh at the notion. “No. We couldn’t be more different. My brother learned how to navigate her personality, but I never did.”

“Is he the older sibling?”

I nod. “By a few years.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Jim says. “The older one usually gets more patience.”

“And the younger one?”

“The younger one gives his patience to everyone else because they’re the ones who need it by the time he arrives.”

Leo shoots me a wink across the table. “Younger siblings gotta stick together, Nixie.”

“Where’s your brother now?” James asks.

“He’s down in Tennessee. He recently had a baby, so he’s busy. We don’t talk much.”

“And your mom?”

“She’s still in New York. She’ll never leave, and I don’t know if it’s because she actually loves New York, or if she just hates change that much.” I stab a few pieces of macaroni with my fork. “Our relationship pretty much went out the window after I lost my dad.”

“When was that?” Leo asks.

“When I was fourteen. Cancer.”

“I was sixteen when Mom died,” Leo says. “Dead parents make high school fun, don’t they?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “You’re not kidding.”

Silence blankets the table like it usually does after someone drops the dead parent card.

“That’s why I’m fixing up the place.” I gesture with my fork in the direction of my house. “He left it to me, and I couldn’t bear to sell it.”

I can hardly bear to live it without him, but it’s the easier option of the two.

Jim covers my hand with his. “I’m so sorry you lost him. I’ll get you those business cards I was telling you about, and they’ll give you a good deal. They’ll help you with whatever you need.”

“I appreciate that, sir.”

“Call me Jim, will ya?”

I nod, and he squeezes my hand before he lets it go and turns his attention to James. “How did it go with all those dogs the other night?”

James shakes his head. “We got them to the shelter, but I don’t know what’s going to happen to them.”

Leo’s eyebrows pinch together. “What dogs?”

“We got an anonymous call from someone about a puppy mill down on Bay Street. The assholes were gone by the time we got there, but they left all the dogs behind.” James shakes his head. “They were filthy.”

I set down my fork. “Poor things. How many were there?”

“We counted twenty-six. A couple of them were, uh…” He scratches the back of his neck. “Already gone when we arrived.”

I gasp and clamp my hand over my mouth.

Jim frowns. “No telling how long they’ll make it at the shelter.”

My head whips to the right. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no room at these shelters.”

I dip my chin. “So, you’re saying…”

“They’ll put them down,” Leo finishes.

“Kill them?” My eyes bounce between James, his brother, and his father. “Why would they do that?”

“If nobody adopts them, they don’t have the room to house all these animals.” James looks down at his plate as if he can’t bear to look at me when he says, “So, they euthanize them.”

I balk. “That’s horrible. There has to be something we can do.”

Jim’s eyebrows lift. “We?”

“Put flyers around town, spread the word somehow.” I shrug. “Something other than just sit here and let innocent puppies get killed.”

Leo chuckles. “You’re passionate, Nixie. I’m in. Let’s save the puppies.”

My eyes widen. “Really? You’ll help?”

“We’ll all help you.” He pats James’s shoulder. “Isn’t that right, big brother?”

James’s eyes meet mine, and he holds my gaze for longer than he has since we met. “Sure.”

I squeal. “We can set up an adoption event and invite everyone in town. Once they see how adorable the dogs are, they won’t be able to leave without taking one home. We can get local businesses to contribute, and we’ll promote them there. We’ll need a dog grooming service to clean them up. Oh, and maybe we can get the local high school kids to volunteer to save money.”

By the time I finish rattling off ideas, the men are all staring at me. I avert my gaze and take a bite of bread. “Okay, someone say something. Is that a dumb idea?”

“Not at all.” Jim gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s a great idea, actually. Getting the community involved will raise awareness.”

Everyone returns to eating, but James’s eyes linger on me. He’s not checking me out the way his brother does, and his usual glare isn’t in place. It’s less like he’s staring me, and more like he’s me—a strange new animal he’s trying to study and figure out.

It’s unsettling.

After dessert, I slip on my jacket and thank the Russos for having me.

Leo walks me to the door. “Well, we’re both younger siblings, and we’re bonded by our commonality of our dead parents. I guess that makes us best friends.”

I chuckle. “As morbid as that is, I could use a best friend.”

“And if you want a brother instead, I’ll be your brother.” He pops a shoulder as if it’s the most nonchalant thing. “Either way, I got your back, Nixie.”

Emotion lodges in my throat as reality sinks in. If I didn’t go through the worst moment in my life, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I wouldn’t have met the Russos. They’ve shown me more help and kindness in the last week I’ve known them than my mother has shown me my whole life.

“Okay, but if you’re going to be my brother, then you have to stop making comments about how hot I am. Brothers don’t comment on their sister’s tits. It’s weird.”

Leo grins as he wraps his arm around my shoulders. “You got it, sis.”

“And I’m here for you too, you know.” I side-eye him. “If you ever feel like disappearing again, you call me first.”

His smile fades, and he nods. “I can do that.”

James takes tentative steps into the entryway, his eyes bouncing between the two of us.

Leo gives me a nod. “Night, Nix.”

James waits for his brother to get to the top of the stairs before he turns to me. “Be careful with him.”

I give him a dubious look. “We’re just friends. I’m not going to hurt him.”

“I’m talking about you. He’ll let you down.”

“Well, I’ll give him that chance.”

He nods like he figured as much. “If you’re free tomorrow night, I can come by with a few ingredients and we can cook something.”

“Sure. Whatever works for you and your schedule.”

He lifts a white shopping bag and holds it out to me.

I take it from him and peer inside. “What’s all this?”

“I picked up a few things at Lowe’s today to help you with your sanding. I noticed the tools you have aren’t the right ones. If the sandpaper is too coarse, you’ll sand right through the spackle and you’ll have to start over again.”

I blink down at the contents in the bag. “Thanks. That’s very… nice of you.”

“You say it like you’re surprised.”

I surprised. Surprised at the act of kindness. Surprised that he cares. Surprised that he thought of me at all.

I hike a shoulder. “You are a cop, after all.”

“I can be nice.” He smirks. “When I want to be.”