Nothing Really Matters

I loved watching her sleep. She was usually the first one to wake but our first morning together in Georgia I woke up before she did. She was on her front, arms under the pillow and one leg bent. The covers had slipped down, exposing her naked back. Her long, dark blond hair almost went all down her to her shoulder blades. She wasn't as skinny anymore. Her spine didn't stand out quite as much anymore. I watched her from the doorway, having collecting a camera to snap some photos of her while she was still unconscious about it. It hit me then that she might not have any pictures of herself at all. Baby photos? Mug shots, sure but what about birthday photos, family dinners, vacations? It was a stupid thing to get chocked up over but I couldn't help it. I couldn't even start to imagine my life without my family. Both by blood and those who had came into my life later on. She didn't have that. I think that was what bothered me the most, her not having a family or even an idea of what a family should mean. All the scars and cuts and bruises was one thing, the human body was amazing when it came to healing but the emotional scars were a whole other matter. The saying, time heal all wounds, didn't mean shit when applying it to her situation. I had been crying so much the past weeks it started to get ridiculous and I just wanted to kick myself when I felt the tears building up once again. She didn't need to see me losing it again, for no reason really. But at the same time it dawned on me that maybe that was why she was still here? She knew I cared enough about her to let my guard down. Still I wanted to be the stronger one. Someone she had never had, besides maybe her brother. She saw right through me though. She knew I was terrified and I was. I had never felt like this before. The need to be close to her and protect her was just as a big part of my life as breathing to keep on living.

"Why are you crying this time?"
"I'm not crying."
"Yeah you were."
Her eyes were still closed and I wondered for a second if she could really read my mind.
"Do you have any baby pictures? Photos from birthdays?"
I sat down in the edge of the bed and she turned her head to look up at me.
"Give me my backpack."
She nodded her head towards the door, her pack was lying beside it and I rose to get it. She sat up and grabbed it from me as I returned to my seat. She groped for a while before producing a plastic folder and handed it over.
"Open it."
She wrapped the covers around her naked body and crossed her legs, watching me intently. I found her birth certificate inside, along with 5 old and faded pictures. A new born baby lying on her mother's chest. Maybe a 2 year old with a piglet. 4 year birthday. A young soldier and finally a young woman being hugged hard by the same young solder. It seemed she had always been thin but her hair had been a lot lighter. Leaving the pictures on the bed I took a closer look at her birth certificate.
“London Maria Richardson, born 22nd of January 1987, Boston Medical Center. We share the same month of birth.”
“Really? When’s your birthday?”
“January 6th. How’s your hand?”
“Fine.
"Is this why you were crying again?"
She nodded to the pictures on the bed.
"I just realized that you have never had a family in the sense that I define a family. It's unfair and... Just Fucked up no one did anything about it. You should have been rescued a long time ago. Maybe if you had you wouldn't have ended up in New York and...."
"And I wouldn't have met you. You said it the first time we had sex, that you would look at it like, all the scares and shit, as one step closer to this. I've never been able to see it like that but truth is I wouldn't be here with you right now if all those things hadn't happened to me."
"I just don't understand how you are still alive. Don't get me wrong, I'm forever thankful that you are, but I just don't get it. I wouldn't have survived."
"When you grow up with it, it's a whole other thing. I never wanted my father or John to win....Well not until the very end with him but... Alex taught me how to survive. He always knew, he said, that there was something, someone, out there waiting for me. When John didn't turn out to be that one I figured there had to be someone else after so I tried to survive for as long as possible."
"And you think I'm the strong one...?"
"In most ways you are. I'm still learning to crawl here when it comes to... Well, being normal."
"I don't need you to be normal."
"Just not running away coz you touch me, huh?"
"Something like that...Should I call Andy and let him know we're on for dinner tonight?"
"Just Andy?"
"And his wife. The kids will probably be asleep."
"How many kids does he have?"
"2. They are great kids, best behaving kids I ever met, including my own... He wants to meet you."
"Mingus?"
"Yeah."
"Do you want him to meet me?"
"Of course."
"Could we please just take one thing at the time? I'm still not sure I will be able to get through dinner with Andy."
"Whatever you want, love."
"Right now I want you."
"I am all yours, baby."

I would be lying if I said I wasn't concerned about his relationship to this woman... Girl, almost felt more fitting though. She had looked tiny the first time I saw her. Skinny as hell and a complete insane look in her eye that still haunted me ay night sometimes. I had seen the way they looked at each other though. He had calmed her down. It was still really fucked up that she has actually tried to draw a knife on him. But I guess that was mostly my fault, not his. I was a bit nervous about having dinner with them. I wanted this to work out for his sake. He needed her. At first I had just thought she was just a fling but he had made it pretty damn clear this was the real thing.
I could hear the bike right before scheduled time and my wife poked her head out from the kitchen as she heard it too.
"Right on time... She might actually be good for him, he's never on time."
She smiled, watching the clock.
"Please, just try to..."
"I know, I know. We need to make this work for Norman's sake."
"Yes. And no hugging."
"No hugs, I get it. Open the door."
A light knock in the door could be heard and I headed to open it. At first I thought he came alone. But as he hugged me I could see her standing right behind him. Nervously rocking on her heals, eyes flickering from me, to the door and the searching for his gaze.
"How are you, bro? It great seeing you again."
"You too, Andy. I've missed you too."
As they stepped into the hallway I got a better look at her and I almost didn't recognize her. She had put on some weight and her hair was all shiny and pulled into a loss knot. She wore jeans and a long sleeved bottomed shirt that had to be his. She seemed to relax a little once he was close by her again, grabbing her hand.
"London, good to see you again. You're looking good."
"Hello, Andy."
"Gale...As beautiful as always."
I saw her flinch for a second when he let go of her to greet my wife with a hug. She kept her eyes on me, I suppose I was the bigger threat here.
"Norman, so good to see you again.... You must be London. I'm Gale, Andy’s wife. I'm glad you're here."
"Thanks..."
My wife was an expert at making people feel comfortable and today I was especially thankful that ability even worked on someone like London. I even saw a small smile on her face when we sat down in the living room and he leaned in to wisher something I couldn't hear to her.
"Would you like something to drink out there? Dinners ready in about 10 minutes."
My wife called from the kitchen but as I was about to rose, Norman was faster.
"You sit, I'll get it."
She followed every step he took once he left for the kitchen.
"He's not going anywhere, you know."
"I know."
"Are you?"
"I'm trying not to."
"Good. Do you even want to be here?"
"Not really."
I couldn't help but laugh at her honesty. She continued however.
"But he wants me to be here, get to know his family so I'm trying...I know you don't like me but..."
"Why would you think that...? I don't know you, there's a difference."
"Maybe that's true, but you don't like where this is heading."
"Can you read minds?"
"Just people's expressions and postures and all the other little things your mouth won't say."
"Look, I'm going to be honest with you."
"Good."
"You're freaking me out. I don't know how to act around you yet. I have never met someone so... Angry and scared and... Fuck, I almost feared for my life at one point when we first met."
"If I had wanted to kill you, you wouldn't still be here."
"Why are you here?"
"Here as in here right now or here with Norman?"
"The later."
"Because... I can't stay away from him. I tried for a while but it didn't work and when I finally got to his place in New York he asked me to stay."
"So you're not just looking for 15 minutes of fame?'
"Are you fucking kidding me...?!"
"I had to ask. Well, this, whatever it is, seemed be doing you good. I'm still a little afraid of you but I will try if you will."
"You're afraid or me?"
"You drew a fucking knife on him, hell yeah I'm afraid of what you can do. Not to me as much as to him."
"You love him."
It was a statement and it surprised me slightly that she had caught on so quickly.
"Yeah I do."
He came back then and it was almost as she started to breathe again. She relaxed and the relief that came over her when he sat back down beside her was amazing to watch.
"You ok?"
She nodded when he asked and handed over a tall glass to her. She hesitated a second.
"I don't drink."
"Yeah I figured. No alcohol, I swear."
How did he know that? And why didn't she drink? Everything she did or more likely all the things she didn't do were creating more questions than answers.
"How... ?"
This time it seemed she was as surprised as me however.
"You know since your...."
He trailed of, probably afraid to say too much but I wanted to know. Was she actually in danger? Was he? I know he had asked me nor to ask her any questions but wait for her to tell me but I wasn't thinking about that when I opened my mouth.
"You were abused as a kid weren't you? Drunken father and maybe even...."
"Andy, for fuck's sake!"
He glared at me but I kept looking at her. She starred right back at me without speaking at first. I waited her out and although I could almost hear Norman grind his teeth in anger beside her, I kept eye contact with her.
"Yes I was."
"How bad?"
"Bad enough to run away when I was 15 and I haven't been back since."
"Where from?"
"I'm from Boston."
"Thank you for telling me."
"I'll make you a deal."
"I'm listening."
"You can ask any question you might have about me and I promise not to... well, try not to freak out about it, but I chose what to tell you and you can't ask the same thing twice."
"Just for tonight?"
"Depends on what you ask."
"Alright then..."
Beside her, Norman looked just as shocked as I must have felt about her willingness to share but I wasn’t going to argue. This was way beyond what I had hoped for and I think what he had hoped for as well.
“When did you come to New York?”
“Right after I left Boston.”
“Did you have a family?”
“Not in the same sense as normal people define family.”
“What does that mean?”
“Pass.”
“Fine… Is it true you stole his bag?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been living on the streets of New York for the past 3 years.”
I gaped at her, not knowing what to say. Norman had forgotten to mention that tinny detail about his new found love.
“That… That kinda explains a lot. Maybe you should’ve opened with that, Nor.”
“It ain’t my place, brother. I kinda told you.”
“No, you didn’t. You told me you tracked her down to her office in Central Park.”
“Did you really tell him that…? Well, that was a bit misleading. No, that office in Central Park was just one of many places I crashed at night when I could.”
“Why did you end…?”
“Nope, not that one.”
She snapped even before I had finished my question. I knew then that was the answer to all the questions I might have for her. What had happened to her during her time in New York had made her what she was now. I knew she had told him much about it but nothing he would repeat to me or anyone else without her saying so. The tension was quickly interrupted by my wife, calling us all to the dinner table.