The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

Her brother had made a hesitant sound that left a bad taste in my mouth. “I don’t know, Van. I don’t like that douche as much as you do, but I don’t think D would lie about it.”

That was the problem with growing up in a family that was usually honest and open with each other—you didn’t know the lengths someone would go to hide something shameful. And I knew right then that unless Diana blatantly told her brother that Jeremy was getting physical, or unless she ended up with a black eye, he wouldn’t assume the worst.

The conversation had been pointless, only adding to the aggravation simmering under my veins for days. I was perfectly fine admitting to myself that when I hadn’t been tossing and turning last night, I’d been wide awake, thinking about all the things I shouldn’t. All the things I knew better than to let bother me, but it was impossible to ignore them when they’d all hit me so hard. One after another, nip, nip, nipping away at my resolve.

Aiden. My mom. Susie. Diana.

My technically husband. My mom. My sister—though I still wanted DNA reports to confirm that connection. My best friend of my entire life.

Was there anyone in this world I could trust? I could rely on? Only myself it felt like sometimes. You would figure I’d know better by now.

The sound of weights clinking together in the gym down the hall had me scowling. Someone had already been busy working out by the time I’d come down the stairs. While most athletes took their bye week off to vacation or spend time with their families, the big guy didn’t. Hadn’t.

I should have known better.

By the time I was done talking myself into pushing thoughts of them away, Zac had nuked some oatmeal in the microwave and dumped a cup full of toppings on it, taking the seat opposite mine at the breakfast nook. A part of a puzzle Aiden was working on decorated the middle of the table. Zac and I happened to glance at each other at the same time, and we smiled at one another, his a tired one and mine an aggravated-but-I’m-trying-not-to-be one.

My tablet sat next to my bowl of cereal; I had been absently flipping through page after page of a website that sold T-shirt designs from freelance artists. I’d sold some of my work on there in the past, and I was looking to see if any designs gave me ideas to work on today, unless I got an unexpected last minute request.

The doorbell ringing once—not long enough to be annoying but not too short to be ignored—had me getting to my feet. “I got it.”

The face on the other side of the peephole had me smiling a little. Leslie didn’t deserve my bitch face when I only saw him a couple times a year. “Good morning,” I greeted as I opened the door.

“Wonderful morning to you, Vanessa.” Leslie smiled back. “After you.”

A gentleman. That had me genuinely smiling as I stepped back and let him in, watching as he closed the door.

“How are you?”

My chest gave a dull throb in response. “I’m okay,” I answered about as honestly as I could. “And you?”

The expression on his face caught me off guard completely. It was like he was surprised I told him the truth, or maybe he wasn’t at all surprised I wasn’t fine, and was just acknowledging that I’d been honest with him. “I’m alive. I can’t ask for more.”

That had me sniffing in near indignation. I could be mopey every once in a while if I wanted. That sounded pathetic even in my own head. Letting out a slow, controlled breath, I nodded at the older man. “Good point.” I gestured with my head toward the gym. “Aiden’s working out. Would you like something to drink?”

“Do you have any coffee?”

I was the only coffee drinker in the house. “I’ll make some right now.”

With his hands behind his back, he dipped his chin in thanks. “I appreciate it. I’m going to check up on Aiden.”

Leslie peeked into the kitchen and raised his hand, giving Zac a no-tooth smile. “Morning, Zac.”

I headed into the kitchen as Leslie went to the gym, and scooped out the pre-ground coffee beans into the coffeemaker, hitting the button to start the brew. By the time I made it back to my seat, Zac was scraping the sides of his bowl, looking way more awake than he had half an hour ago. “You feelin’ better?” he asked.

“Not really.” Was I that obvious? I lifted a shoulder. “What are you doing today?”

“Gonna work out.”

I held out my fist for him to bump, and he only slightly shook his head as his fist connected with mine.

“You want to go for a run today?”

To give him credit, he tried to control his facial features so that they didn’t resemble a grimace. “Sure.”

“Don’t sound so excited.” I laughed.

Zac grinned immediately. “I’m foolin’ ya, Vanny. What time do you wanna go?”

“Is four okay?”

He nodded. “I’ll be back by then.”

I held up my hand again and he fist bumped it.

“I’m gonna get dressed so I can get outta here,” Zac said, already pushing his chair back.

We agreed to see each other later, and after rinsing off his plate and sticking it in the dishwasher, he disappeared up the stairs. With the intention of finishing looking through the rest of the current posts on the website I still had up on my tablet, I made it through one more page before Leslie appeared.

“Thank you for making this,” he said once he was at the coffeemaker, pulling out a cup from the correct cabinet without needing direction.