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Chapter 84

#77 Fresh Air - Aer Ur

The Painting

Grace practically forced me to take time off. She started at a month but I negotiated down to two weeks. I wanted to get back to normal as soon as possible - though I was quickly finding that 'normal' may be something I never had.

I told Grace everything the day we got back from the city. We sat for five hours well into the night until as I spilled each painful detail. She listened quietly from her perch on the bar stool opposite from me. The guests had long gone to bed and the kitchen was calm.

Never once did she interrupt me and when I finally finished she hugged me. It wasn't the desperate or pitying embrace I expected - the one that I feared. I never wanted to be pitied or impose the feeling on other's that it was their responsibility to hold me together. Now I understood that my chosen family – Lyle and Grace, Frankie, Tony, and the girls – couldn't hold me together. But just as well they could pick up some of the pieces that had fallen out of my reach.

"I'm happy you told me honey." She smoothed some hair away from my face as she held me close.

Her warm brown eyes sparkled as she pressed her forehead to mine. There were questions she held back and I assumed a touch of anger with me for keeping this secret for so long. Especially the dangerous confrontations with Monroe and his henchmen which I knew set off the maternal instinct within her.

For now she let all of that go. We sat for a bit with nothing left to say. My lungs ached and it seemed as though I'd spoken without taking a single breath. My thoughts were ready to go and once I began, starting with Unit #16 there was no intermission until I caught up to the events of this morning.

Finally Grace stood and went to the refrigerator.

"Pancakes?" She peeked behind her as she opened the fridge door.

I stifled a sniffle and nodded.

Lyle took time off as well per Grace's orders and for the first few days of our vacation we stayed in our cabin. The first two days we busied ourselves. There was no mention of Monroe or the stunt at X-Enterprises. Knowing that the news would be all over the story Lyle unplugged the TV and we avoided our phones.

We took a long hike and went back to the art gallery where we spent a rainy afternoon together so many months ago. By the third day we were restless and naturally we meandered into the B&B during a breakfast rush.

We intended to behave as guests – at least that's what we told ourselves. Lyle and I took a seat in the back corner next to a family of three who were writing down directions to the nearest state park. Genially we struck up a conversation with them as I offered my assistance on the best roads and paths to take.

The family, the Marquettes, were dressed in sporty attire with rain jackets tied around their waists. "We've learned our lesson," The mother who introduced herself as Angelica began. "Yesterday we got caught in a rain half way into our three mile hike." She ruffled her sons hair and flashed me a humble look.

"I slipped in the mud." The boy of about ten added. Then in excitement rolled up his pant leg to show Lyle and I the miniscule scratch on his knee. He picked at it until Angelica scolded him.

"Show us again which trail you've taken." The father cut in. He wore a brown vest and a visor hat flipped backwards, an odd combination of preparedness and easy going. "We are looking for something hilly but not too steep and with a great view."

I exchanged a subtle look with Lyle at the man's contradicting vision. "Well," I began flipping through the park map they'd gotten from the tourism building in town. "Pine Path isn't too steep but the view is killer."

I recalled the gorgeous outcrop of rock at the end of the trail which allowed hikers to feast their eyes on hundreds and hundreds of hearty pine trees that lined the valley like an ocean. "Because it isn't steep at the end, the entire walk is at a slight incline."

"Quite the calf burner." Lyle added. "What was the one we went on the other day?" She waved her hand trying to recall the name of the simple hike we took twenty minutes out of town.

"Oh um," I snapped my fingers with her. "Bobcat peak!"

Angelica looked a little pale at the mention of the well known predator but her son seemed overjoyed as his tiny eyes widened.

"Here I'll go grab their brochure."

I shifted my way through the mess of chairs to grab the brochure and a few more showcasing Maine's hidden coniferous gems.

"What are you doing there?" Grace called out to me as I entered the foyer with three welcome brochures in my hand.

"Just giving some advice." I flashed her a quick smile.

"You're supposed to be taking a break honey, not acting as a travel guide."

"I'm just being friendly."

Grace raised her eyebrows and hummed a sarcastic 'uh huh'.

After giving the Marquettes the brochures they hurried off to look up more information on their computer. Just as they left the morning rush hit and the kitchen was filled to the brim with guests. Every seat was taken and Lyle and I had just finished scooting ourselves further into the back corner when Lyle spotted the family of three return to the kitchen and scan the packed room for a seat.

Without thinking we waved them over.

"Take my seat." I pushed the chair out.

Angelica shook her head of curly hair. "We couldn't."

"Don't worry," I waved my hand. "Here we'll grab some more chairs." Rounding the table Lyle followed me to the supply closet where we grabbed three extra folding chairs and wedged them around the table. "There!"

We were about to sit down when another couple walked in through the side door. The young pair looked like scared deer at the sight of the packed room. Somewhere at the kitchen counter Dania and Evelyn were yelling orders to each other. Immediately Lyle gave me a look of agreement and we offered our seats to the young couple who thanked us profusely.

"What do we do now?" Lyle asked as we both eyed the chaotic kitchen.

To make up for our absence Grace had recruited Tony to fill in during breakfast rush hour. She must have left to grab something because he was all alone in the corner of the room frantically flipping pancakes. I watched in dismay as one fell to the floor. The underdone cake splattered on the evenly colored wood.

I exchanged a glance with Lyle and she nodded reading my thoughts. "It'll only take a second." I shrugged.

While Evelyn and Dania wove in and out of the packed tables Lyle and I approached Tony. "Need a hand?"

I held my hand out for the spatula and Lyle grabbed a sponge to clean off the incredible mess of pancake batter that made the counter look like a Jackson Pollock. "Here you pour and I'll flip." I nudged Tony toward the ladle.

For a big man he looked completely helpless in the hot kitchen and a look of relief washed over his face as we established a workable assembly line.

After twenty minutes of steady crowds people began to leave and Lyle moved to cleaning the syrupy plates when Grace returned to the kitchen. "Just what in the heck do you two think you're doing?" She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side causing her thick braid to fall behind her back.

I gave a weak smile. If there was one thing I could sense it was when Grace was about to reprimand me. Never in a cruel way. It always felt as if she were cast to play an angry woman but could never find the motivation. She squinted her eyes playfully.

"Get!" She hollered at us over the crackle of the stove top.

I looked to Tony. "I think I can handle it from here." He winked at me recognizing Grace's teasing anger.

"I will lock you two out if you don't learn how to take some time off." She pointed a finger at us.

Lyle was laughing now but that only made Grace's look grow more stern. Grabbing a broom to her right she shooed us out the door like a couple of mice.

The cabin - our home - felt empty. A dull feeling settled over me as we slumped back on the couch. The high of being needed at the B&B wore off and a reminder of our shared past events trickled into my mind.

"I'm tired." I mumbled as Lyle rested her head on my shoulder.

She hummed in agreement. We'd done so little today but already I felt exhausted. My body molded into the soft cushions like a piece of melted butter. I'd been napping more than usual and it wasn't due entirely to the our usual duo of nightmares.

"We need a change of scenery."

"What do you mean?" I asked but I knew exactly what she was getting at. I felt trapped inside my own mind as shunned thoughts of Monroe intruded deeper and deeper into my conscious. It was taking all I could to keep one measly corner of my thoughts clean from his insidiousness.

The look of utter contempt in his eyes played on a film reel over and over again. At night I couldn't escape it, his eyes the subject of most of my dreams. Slowly, the image percolated into the day time, beginning in the morning and staying with me until after dinner.

Lyle was right that night at the diner - when we first devised the plan. Locking Monroe up wouldn't solve everything. At first I felt relief seeing him flanked by two officers who weren't in his pocket. Relief that had been building in me since the moment he shot me in the chest, but now it felt underrated. I expected something more, I'd built it up to be a life changing moment that would lift me out of the shadows, my mother's shadow.

There were lights surrounding me now, but I was still struggling to see my own hands in front of my face. Sometimes I wasn't even sure what my hands looked like.

Monroe was in custody, he was charged with what we postulated but it would be long before a sentence was decided. Time that I feared would work to his advantage. I had no idea what a million dollar team of lawyers could do and in many ways I didn't want to know.

Maybe that's why I refused to think about him. Leaving the police station drained my entire body. They stuck a straw into my brain and drank up all the information I could give. Half way through the interview I realized something equally as horrid as Monroe's atrocities. I'd stopped thinking about my mother.

Monroe was locked up but I hadn't purged his control on my mind. I thought I had that morning when I confronted his painting, but I was wrong. It was a painting not the man.

When we left the station I decided to go cold turkey. Shut myself off from any thoughts of Monroe, X-Enterprises, or his lucky cufflinks. The first day everything went smoothly. Lyle planned a day with enough activities to keep my mind off the previous days, but when it came to night my habits caught me. Every night, I'd taken to reading a passage from Mo Soileireacht. Over the course of having the journal in my possession I'd read the contents over a dozen times. In fear of over digesting the journal to the point where her words were nothing more than background noise I changed to taking it slow.

Each night I allowed myself to read a single passage, assuming that by the time I got through the eighty entries and started over again her words would take on a freshness. The entry I read the first night Monroe spent in jail was nothing special.

No mention of Monroe. Yet my mind couldn't help but shift in the direction of the man who killed my mother. Her light jolly words rose from the page and caught in my thoughts as I breathed them in. The cruelty and injustice sucker punched me as if I were reliving the realization all over again. My mother was taken from me before I ever got to know her.

My hand was forced to learn about the woman who gave me life through a musty smelling journal with pages of faded ink.

That was when I realized that I would never be able to outrun Monroe. No matter if he were locked up or in a leather chair on the thirty second story. He was intertwined with my mother as much as I. He was half of the reason I was here and as much as I hated to admit it by some odd twist of fate Monroe was responsible for bringing me closer to my mother.

I could never sever our invisible ties.

To live with it was one thing, but to accept it was another.

I needed some fresh air.

Lyle who had been sitting quietly on the couch. Her wavy hair draping down my shoulder as she traced circles onto the palm of my hand spoke up. "Frankie said we could come visit him."

"Where does he live?" I caught her fingers in mine and held them for a moment. I remembered Frankie mentioning the offer to Lyle the day he left but I didn't catch where he actually called home.

"By a lake an hour or so out."

"Ok."

-

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