Readjustment (Restitution #2)

20

Caleb Straus

“See!” I pointed down at the scale. “I’ve gained three pounds.”

The overhead light glared over the linoleum on the kitchen floor. The scale was cold under my bare feet, but I wanted the reading to be fair as possible.

Bertha and G huddled together and peered at the number, exchanging skeptical looks.

“That can’t be right,” Bertha said. “Do it one more time.”

“You guys are ridiculous.” I stepped off, then stepped back on. “I’m having you both committed. In no universe am I getting thin.”

It’d been fifty-seven days since we’d made an arrest for the murder of Keola Antu. Milo Davonte entered a plea deal that got his charge dropped to voluntary manslaughter in exchange for providing information that linked the Riverside Prophets with a statewide, deep-rooted gang, The Syndicates. Sheriff Antu stepped down and was still bartering for a plea deal for himself. Last I heard, the prosecution hadn’t budged, and he was out on bond awaiting trial.

The only mystery left was: where in the world was Adam Dawson?

When I awoke from surgery, Chief Branson told me Adam had filled out his remaining reports, then left town. Something about a family emergency. When I called his number, it had been disconnected. No one had moved into his apartment, and I wasn’t sure what was worse: Seeing it vacant or someone moving in to take his place.

G and Bertha were godsends after I got out of the hospital. They kept me company, made sure I got enough rest, and between the two of them, my apartment was clean and my laundry done. Bertha made sure I was adequately fed, while G drove me to PT and AA meetings. I couldn’t thank them enough for being by my side while I hobbled with my walker, then crutches, and finally a cane, which I stopped using a week ago.

They fussed over me enough to drive me crazy, but they also held my hand and listened while I worked through some stuff that was just as painful as my physical injuries. Being a people pleaser sounded good in theory. And for a while, it worked. I thought it didn’t matter that I was giving more than I got in return. But that left me empty; I was chasing something unobtainable. I’d never be the man I was before Ethan had died. I never properly mourned who I used to be or taken time to celebrate who I’d become. With the support of G, Bertha and a lot of soul searching, I was working to change that.

That doesn’t mean I didn’t miss Adam though. I thought about him all the time. I don’t regret sticking up for myself and setting boundaries, but it still hurt that he chose to leave without saying goodbye. But even that was slowly getting easier to deal with.

I was getting better by the day, and I was counting the hours until tomorrow, when I returned to desk duty.

While I put the scale back in the bathroom, G, and Bertha put the extra food away. I nudged my way into the room (because I’m totally capable) and put the Tupperware dishes in the fridge. Bertha inspected the fresh produce in the crispers with a satisfied hum.

“I can do my own grocery shopping now.” My cheeks filled with warmth. “Even got rid of all the expired condiments. You don’t need to worry about me so much.”

“Are you saying you’re sick of us?” Bertha quirked her eyebrows.

“N-no.” I grabbed her hand and gently guided her out of the kitchen. “I love you both, but I’d like to get laid again at some point so you’ve gotta find a new gossip spot—hey, ouch!”

G yanked on my earlobe until I bent to her whim. “We love you too, sweet boy. I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow.”

Bertha blew me a kiss as she left, and G followed behind.

In the kitchen, I wet a rag from the drawer beside the stove and carried it to the table in the dining nook. The smell of floral perfumes and tamales hung tough as I finished cleaning up from my dinner company, then settled on the couch with a satisfied sigh. Rain ticked against the windows in a soothing cadence, only interrupted by the odd settling sounds of the building. A full half hour of Sports Center passed by, but I wasn’t really paying attention to it. I closed my eyes and was almost asleep when someone knocked.

Did Bertha forget something? I scanned the room for gloves or hats as I headed to the door. “Let me guess,” I turned the lock and grabbed the knob, “you forgot—”

Words. Breath. Thought. All of it fled as I came face to face with Adam.

Stunned, I staggered back.

“I forgot a lot of things.” He crossed one arm over himself in a half hug and stared at my chest.

“What…” My next words fell away when those dark eyes came back up to mine. He looked… like Adam, yet somehow less. He had a fresh hair cut, the top still in those long, styled mess of tufts and the sides fading out at his ears. But his skin was sickly pale, and the hollow of his cheeks was deeper. A light leather jacket draped his broad shoulders, and a henley hung loose over his thin chest. The taper from his broad shoulders to his waist was even more noticeable, and his tailored jeans looked baggy.

“What are you doing here?” I pressed a hand to my chest to try and stop my heart from doing cartwheels.

“I’m uh,” his eyes fell again, and he scraped his teeth over his bottom lip, “probably the last person you want to see. But if we could just talk for a minute…”

I blinked back at him, still unable to speak.

Adam’s voice got wispy and low. “Please?”

“Uh, yeah.” I swallowed. “Come in.”

“Thanks.” Adam shut the door gently behind him and moved only a few paces before stopping.

“Do you want something to drink?” A bitter wave of anger flashed through me as I walked towards the kitchen. “I don’t have any booze.”

“No thank you.” Adam hovered near the door.

“We’re estranged. Not strangers.” I motioned to the living room. “Let’s sit down.”

“Okay.” His voice, movements, all of it were so… Adam . And yet, different. Something at the most fundamental level had changed. I just wasn’t sure what.

“How’s your hip?” Adam asked. “I heard your surgery went well, but no one would tell me anything after that.”

“No permanent damage.” I rubbed my scar. “G and Bertha helped me out until I could get past moving around with a walker. I’m back to desk duty tomorrow, and once I finish Physical therapy next month, I should be cleared for active duty.”

“Good,” he said with a shy smile. “I know this is awkward, but I wanted to explain some things.” He slid his phone from the pocket of his jacket. “Wrote some things down so I don’t forget. Doesn’t mean they aren’t from the heart, though.”

I sank into the couch and curled my toes, releasing them before curling them again. “Alright.”

“I guess I should begin with why I left the way I did.”

“That’d be a real good place to start.” I said through terse lips. “No call. No text. Nothing.”

He closed his eyes. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“That’s just great.” I threw my hands up. “You turned my life upside down and left because you didn’t think to apologize? ”

“No, I knew that much,” Adam said. “And I did apologize, but it wasn’t enough. I put you through hell. I was selfish in so many ways, but especially drinking around you. You said it wasn’t a problem—”

“No, that wasn’t the pr—”

“It was part of it, but there’s more I need to explain.”

I blew out a ragged breath. “Okay.”

“I didn’t run because I wanted to.” Adam thumbed over his phone screen. “I had to, Caleb. If I stayed, I was just going to make excuses for myself. I’d keep making myself the victim until you either gave in, or completely cut me off, and I couldn’t live with either of those. So, I went back to Chicago and worked things out as best I could.”

“Like?”

Adam glanced at his notes. “I saw my doctor about the sleeping pills, started seeing a therapist, and I’m learning how to be comfortable being uncomfortable. I’m not going to lie and say I’m sober, but I’m really trying, and I’ve gotten a lot better. That’s not much after all this time. And I’m not looking for an Atta-boy from you or anybody—I did it for me.”

“It’s not a bad start.” I admitted.

“But it still didn’t address the root of the issue.” Adam’s shoulders caved in. “So, I told my parents about the night Perry died. I should’ve told you, and I need to make it right.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Adam set his phone down and nervously rubbed his hands together. “My parents were on vacation and Perry wanted to go to a party. My parents didn’t want him hanging with this crowd. He’d already got into trouble with them, but I was also breaking the rules having Josh over, so I gave in and took him. Josh and I didn’t get to be alone often and when Perry called after an hour and interrupted us, I got pissed off and told him to walk home if things were so bad. He called again a little later, but Josh begged me to ignore it, and I did. The police showed up a few hours later to tell me he’d been attacked trying to protect a girl when a huge fight broke out. My parents rushed home, and the doctors tried, but he’d lost so much oxygen to the brain. He had a stroke and died the next day, and I’ll never forget how my mother screamed.” His voice broke. “I let him get killed, Caleb.”

A single tear fell off his chin and somehow, I felt the reverberation of it as it landed in his lap. It had the same echo as the sound of Ethan’s casket closing.

“You didn’t know that would happen.” I said softly.

Adam swiped his tears away with his knuckles. “I freaked out, but Josh didn’t. He came up with the idea of telling my parents Perry snuck out while I was napping. I thought it was best to spare them more pain. They didn’t find the guys who killed Perry, and that’s when I decided to become a cop. I could make up for what’d happened, and for a long time, I really believed I did the right thing. I married Josh, and I lived a life that afforded them great care when my dad got diagnosed with MS. But when things started falling apart, I figured the universe had finally caught up to me. I started drinking more to shove down the pain, and my marriage suffered, but I stayed the course. It was easier than changing at that point. I used alcohol and pills, to avoid the truth; that I could’ve ended this any time, but I was too much of a coward.”

The steady beat of the rain picked up pace and matched the thud of my heel against the couch as my knee bounced. The restless energy in me was having a hard time holding off the unnamed force that had drawn me to Adam from day one. That nudge of fate and all the things I stopped believing in when Ethan died.

“Why tell me this now?” My voice was gentle. “What’s changed? Was it the accident, or—”

“Because I’m in love with you, Caleb.”

After a sharp inhale, I froze, not knowing what to say next.

“I tried to tell myself to let it go.” He leaned forward, his gaze so soft and earnest it made me tremble. “But I love everything about you. Your smile. Your laugh. The way you sleep with one foot out of the blanket. Your knowledge of random facts. I don’t expect that to erase how bad I hurt you, but I can’t live with you thinking you meant nothing to me. Or the what if’s had I not come here and told you myself.”

Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away. Adam was everything I wanted, but the fact remained that he wasn’t mine. “Why should I believe you? We’ve been here before.”

He picked up his jacket, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to me.

I removed the contents and unfolded it. In bold letters across the top read Petition for the Dissolution Of Marriage . The next box over read: State of Illinois Circuit Court: Cook County, but it was the middle section that finally made it real.

Petitioner: Adam Harold Dawson Vs Respondent: Joshua Arthur Maclean

I read on, my mouth going from too wet to so dry my tongue felt glued to the roof.

“I filed the day I got back.” Adam’s voice was somber and cautious. “It took forever to get in front of a judge, but he was served yesterday. I’ve been staying at an old friends Airbnb apartment until I can figure out where I’m going next.”

“But…” I searched through the hundreds of words spinning in my head and settled for the easiest ones. “What about your parents? Will they be okay?”

“They’re alright. I cashed out a good chunk of my 401K, so they’re set for a while.”

“So, they didn’t, uh—” I flipped the pages over again, then again.

“Disown me? No.” Adam slid further down the couch towards me. “They were shocked at first, but they were more upset I’d let this secret hurt me so much. We all wish we could have done things differently.” He took another deep, shaky breath. “We talked a lot and ultimately, they just want me to be happy. Because that’s what Perry would want and…Fuck, I’m getting off topic.”

Silence stretched out thick as molasses as my brain tried to catch up.

“Shit.” Adam pushed his hands off the cushion to stand. “I’m pressuring you and I didn’t want to. I should just go and—”

He’s going to leave. The thought flashed across my mind . He’ll leave if you don’t stop him.

“Stop,” I caught his wrist, my voice soft. “Please. I just need a minute to process this.”

He sat back down without a word.

I folded the papers and tucked them back in the envelope. Adam’s hand was shaking as he took it from me and returned it to his jacket.

My mind ran through half a dozen reasons to end this for good. Like how G would demand involvement. Bertha might smack me in the head. I even thought of what Ethan might have said before I realized I was right back to thinking of everyone but myself.

“I don’t want to live with ‘what if’s’ either.” He opened his mouth to respond, but I held up my hand. “Please, let me say what I have to say.”

Adam bit his bottom lip and nodded his agreement.

“For weeks I’ve wondered what things would’ve been like if we’d done this right. I dreamed of you coming back and telling me…pretty much everything you just said as we ride off into the sunset, but you’re right. This,” I gestured between us, “it’s great, but it doesn’t fix everything. We can’t pretend we’re done healing. We can’t fix each other. Even if we really want to.”

“I know.” Adam stared at the coffee table.

“That means we can’t go back to the same routines.” I moved closer to the corner where the loveseat and couch met and rested my hand on his thigh. “If we’re going to build this thing right, we have to set boundaries and go slow.”

“A work in progress.” Adam laid his hand over mine, a glimmer of careful hope in his eyes. “I can do that.”

“You know this means no sex, right?”

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me not want this.” He turned my hand over until he could intertwine our fingers and gave it a firm squeeze. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I looked down at our hands, and when I peered back up, his eyes were glossy. “Hey,” I brushed a finger over his cheek. “Are you okay? I mean, with everything going on.”

He nodded and sniffled. “My life’s a complete mess, and I’m not sure what the future holds, but I think I’ll be alright.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” I pressed my forehead to his and cupped the back of his head. “I’m glad you’re here though.”

“I missed you.” Adam’s words were breathy, and a tear fell down his cheek. “I thought about you every day. It helped get me through, and I swear I’ll do—”

I cut him off with a kiss, and that familiar tingle radiated through my body. His fingers tightened around mine as the kiss deepened, and to my surprise, he was the one to pull away first.

“That was a…” a shy smile curved his lips, “pleasant surprise.”

“Well, I missed you too.” I patted his cheek and sat back. “And I really want this to work.”

“Me too.” He brushed his hands down his pant legs, then stood up. “There’s still a lot of questions to answer, but could we leave it here for the night?”

My phone vibrated on the coffee table, and Officer Soren’s name was on the screen. “Sorry, let me take this real quick.” I slid my finger over the green call icon and held it to my ears. “Everything okay?”

“Turn on the news,” she said brusquely. “Call me back.”

I searched between the couch cushions for the remote and flipped on NBC. Reporter Brenda Webb stood outside the sheriff’s department and spoke into the microphone. “…Disgraced former Gary County sheriff, Sione Antu, was found dead in his Quincy Home. While there is no official cause of death, inside sources suggest he was murdered.”