Surrender Page 4

  She shuffles in the background, like she’s getting comfortable, then says, “Most people who go to Paris come back ten pounds heavier and slightly insufferable, not addicted to alcohol.”

  “Right? And just in the time that I’ve known him, he’s improved so much. But he still occasionally startles at loud noises, and sometimes goes stiff when I hug him.”

  The line goes quiet for a few seconds. “He’s afraid of you?”

  “No, I don’t think he’s afraid of me at all. But he’s not one hundred percent comfortable. At first, I thought that he was nervous around me because I’m…”

  “Jean-Pierre Sehene of the NBA Championship San Antonio Spurs.”

  “Exactly. But I’ve known him for a while now, and we’re friends. I know that there’s mutual attraction, but he can still get cagey. I mean, the first time I met him, he stopped so fast that he nearly dropped what he was carrying.”

  She hums to herself for a moment. “Freeze.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve heard of fight or flight.”

  I gesture to myself, even though she can’t see me. “Of course.”

  “There’s a third reaction that people and animals have when they sense danger—they freeze. Might be what he’s doing. Their brain takes over and decides that, if they’re still enough, maybe they won’t anger their abuser or maybe they won’t be seen at all.”

  Merde. That makes… too much sense. “So he does have PTSD like me,” I say thoughtfully.

  “Certainly a possibility, but don’t assume anything until you’ve heard it from him directly. I’m hoping you’ve confirmed that he is, in fact, gay.” She says this kindly, making sure that I haven’t set myself up for the heartbreak I’d dealt out to her.

  I duck my head. “Oui. He’s definitely gay.”

  “Well, good. Just be careful, okay?”

  “Of course. I guess my real question is, how can I make sure I’m not causing him to freeze?”

  The line goes quiet as she thinks. “Pete, it’s damn near impossible to get rid of something like that entirely. Hell, even though you’re doing so well now, you can still find yourself right back there in Rwanda, no?”

  “That’s true. But it never lasts long.”

  “Exactly. So, if he’s showing a lot of improvement in a relatively short amount of time…”

  “He really has.”

  “Then you have to decide if you want to be with him, even though he has triggers.”

  “Not a question.”

  “Good. But you have to communicate. Start with what sets you off, and then make sure he feels comfortable telling you what sets him off, and then go from there.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Silvia.” It’s good advice, and I’m thinking that it works just as well for a lot of things.

  She waits for a beat, then changes the subject. “All right, so now tell me more about what Scout is doing.”

  “She’s found a site that is earmarked for demolition, and she’d like to buy it and put up a second pizza shop.”

  “That’s exciting! And you’re investing with her?”

  “I might do more than that. If these various business ventures start to take off, Heath and I might join her property development company officially.”

  Her voice is genuine and warm. “Sounds like you may have found something you like nearly as much as coaching.”

  I nod enthusiastically, almost giddy because of her support. “I have, and I like the balance of volunteering with the team and then doing something that’s more of a gamble. Do you think that you might want to invest, too? I’d front you the cash.”

  Her laugh translates warmth across the line. “Turns out that my gay ex-husband was quite generous with his leave-taking and I have funds for investing. Do you think Scout has a good enough head on her shoulders?”

  “I do. Even better, her wife’s a genius, a fun mix of innovative and pragmatic. I’ll send you the prospectus when I get home.”

  She hums in agreement. “So, how is the coaching going?”

  “We’re in conditioning right now, and I made friends with our new conditioning coach, Lucas. He was hired from Northwestern a little after Dennis was fired, and he doesn’t hit on the players, so that’s a bonus. He has a good way with the freshmen.”

  “I’m glad you’re making friends, Jean-Pierre. Community is important, and it sounds like you’re making a life for yourself in Austin,” she says kindly. It’s nice to have Silvia on my side, and I smile at the thought. “Yes, I think I found my home.”

  Chapter Five

  Jake

  I put the El Camino in park, making sure to check all of my mirrors and blind spots. I’m way better with the dark, but some days are better than others. I’ve been too busy for the daily morning zazen with my recovery group at the Austin Zen Center, so coming into the gym early to take advantage of the quiet space before the sunrise yoga class is the only way I’m getting it in. This morning it is particularly necessary; last night was not good, and I slept very little.

  Wrecked is housed in an open-plan modern warehouse structure, and the lofty ceilings are dotted with enormous skylights. There are designated areas for the different classes of gym equipment, motivational sayings on the walls, and areas of green turf flooring that make the place seem welcoming and stylish.

  The climbing wall that Elijah and I installed last month curves out to an overhang at the top, creating an almost cave-like feel, yet open enough for me to feel comfortable sitting under it. I feel protected, safer somehow.

  I take several deep breaths before dropping into a cross-legged pose. I adjust my posture, balancing on my sit bones, letting my spine relax, letting the vertebrae sit one on top of the other, careful not to overly straighten the column of bone, muscle, and nerve. When I feel well balanced and nearly weightless, I touch my thumbs to my middle fingers and begin the patterned inhalation and exhalation that has been part of my morning routine for nearly two years.

  Most of the time, this is a lovely, relaxing way to start my day that serves my sobriety. Unfortunately, a night terror had me waking in a chilled sweat last night, and a scene bubbles up in the middle of my meditation.

  I attempt to move past the thoughts and recenter, but they are persistent. Knocking, knocking at the door. It’s as if I can’t give myself permission to feel whole, and sometimes I wish someone could just push aside the thoughts for me.

  I open my eyes and take in the enormous space, anchoring myself to reality while I let the shivery memory run its course. As unpleasant as that is, I sometimes recover more quickly when I let myself remember. My mind goes back to an ill-fitting suit in an unflattering color and a dark gray wool coat that felt like armor.

  Jean-Pierre

  I let myself in early and note that Jake is in the corner, sitting cross-legged under the climbing wall. The shadows throw shapes across his face, and he is deep in meditation. He opens his eyes briefly, and while I am right in his line of sight, his eyes lack focus and I don’t think he can see me. They flutter shut again, and a tear slips down his cheek. I stand with him in the silence.

  A few moments later, his voice, which carries an irritated, bladelike quality, filters across the space. “Good morning, Jean-Pierre. How are you?”

  “I am well, mon ami. I’m sorry to have interrupted your meditation. I thought I’d come in early and get some extra stretching in.”

  “My meditation was not going well this morning anyway, so I’m happy to help, if you’d like.” His grumpy demeanor belies his words, and I know that he’s not annoyed at me. He reminds me of an angry kitten, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing at the visual.

  I walk over to the wall and grab a yoga mat, a band, and a small blanket, then Jake directs me to fold up the blanket and sit on it cross-legged like he is. Under the climbing wall, we go through a couple of basic stretches, moving in easy synchronicity, our long limbs throwing shadows across the floor.

  After a few moments, the tensio
n leaves his shoulders, the disgruntled look softens on his face, and he rises to prepare the space for the class. I rise with him and put my hand on his shoulder, not speaking until the initial immobility warms and becomes loose acceptance under my fingertips. “How are you doing?”

  Either his toes have suddenly become very important, or he’s avoiding my eyes. “Could have used some better sleep last night.”

  “Is that why your meditation was going poorly this morning?”

  He chances a peek in my direction, then bows his head in the affirmative and starts to pull out the supplies for the class.

  I squeeze the shoulder that I’m still holding. “Jake, sit. Continue to relax. I will put out the mats and things.”

  The protest is on his lips, but he sees the seriousness in my eyes and nods briefly, then sits as I’ve asked him to do.

  Progress.

  Chapter Six

  Jake

  “All right, everyone. Now that you’re settled into Shavasana, imagine a warm ball of light floating from the top of your head down to your toes, relaxing each part of your body along the way.”

  “Can I ask the ball of light to hang out on my junk for a little bit longer?”

  “What you do in your own time is on you, Morris,” Roly cracks from the back of the class.

  Morris blows raspberries in Roly’s direction, and I practice silence and a stern look until I feel that everyone has faced their energies back to the front.

  Resetting, I continue. “Starting with the top of your head, feel the connective tissue warm and release, taking with it all of the stress of the day, loosening the skin of your face, and the back of your neck, and underneath your ears. Feel the relaxation of your forehead, of your eyebrows, of your cheekbones and your jawline…”

  I continue down the rest of the body and am only moderately disappointed when Morris doesn’t say anything when the ball of light glides over the groin area. On the other hand, he’s fallen asleep, which makes for a peaceful end to the class.

  We finalize by sitting cross-legged and put our hands together in prayer pose, offering “jai bhagwan” to each other. A VA therapist once said to me that peace can come in many forms, and sometimes it starts in the head and moves to the body, or it can start in the body and move to the head, and it didn’t much matter where you began. Before I was even sober, I would go with Evie to her yoga classes, at first just to not be alone. I kept going because the physical movement calmed my head, and when I started following the Buddhist path, I noticed that the meditation helped to settle my body, and it felt like I’d finally figured out a way to integrate that bit of wisdom from the therapist.

  Today notwithstanding. The meditation and yoga helped, but I’m still on shaky ground from last night. Jean-Pierre’s presence is calming, and I smile at him while we pick up the yoga mats and store them in the cubby system that Elijah set up for me. I’m about to see if he wants to join me for a cup of coffee when I notice Roly hanging out near the edge of the class area.

  “Hey, Roly-man, did you need something?”

  He rubs his neck, grimacing. “Yeah, I, uh… So, there was this bear last night, and we got a little crazy, and now I feel like my whole skeletal system is out of whack.”

  He must see the alarm in my eyes because he grabs my arm and shakes his head. “No, buddy, not like that. Totally consensual and enjoyable, just… a little more aerobatic than I am capable of. “

  Still, he should have said something. “Roly, why didn’t you tell me this before class? Just because yoga is gentle doesn’t mean it can’t mess you up.”

  He shrugs, somewhat painfully. “I figured the class would make it better. And it did! But… my neck still feels like shit.”

  “Why don’t you have Keto Spice check it out? I mean, he’s a PT, right?” I ask, using the nickname that Elijah uses for Nick. Roly starts cracking up, then instantly goes quiet.

  Shit.

  “He’s behind me, isn’t he?” I ask Roly, who bites his top lip to prevent himself from laughing.

  I turn around and smile at Nick, who looks both displeased and put off, like maybe my Wednesday Addams smile is a bit too creepy first thing in the morning. “Really? Can’t we just let Keto Spice die?” Nick complains. “Literally call me anything else.”

  “Is that because you eat Evie’s pizza when you think no one is looking?” Roly asks, attempting to change the subject.

  Nick looks between the two of us and points at his cousin. “That big dude tossed you around like a Raggedy Ann doll, didn’t he? Is that why you’re holding your right shoulder up near your ears?”

  Roly glares at me like I’ve betrayed him, and I hold up my hands. “Dude, I didn’t say anything.”

  Still grumbling, Roly reaches into his pocket and produces a five-dollar bill and hands it over to Nick while eyeballing me. “You made me lose the bet!”

  “Pretty sure you did that all on your own, primo,” Nick responds, clapping his cousin on the shoulder, netting a wince and small whine.

  Nick then turns to me. “Hey, cuñado, you’re looking a little tired. Are you okay?”

  I blow out of breath. I don’t share a lot with my brother-in-law and his cousin, but they’ve treated me like family for as long as they’ve known me, and it wouldn’t hurt to talk it out. “I didn’t sleep well last night. You know how it is, bad dreams.”

  Nick nods, and it feels like solidarity. “Yeah, those suck. Look, if you’ve had a bad night, you can always call it in. Make yourself a priority, if only because it’s a good example for the rest of the assholes who come here,” he says on a smile.

  Honestly, seeing Nick smile, one grouch to another, gives me hope.

  “Thank you for the reminder. Usually coming in after a bad night is helpful. I’m just still… anxious.” I instinctively look for Jean-Pierre, who’s chatting with Elijah, no doubt trying to get his thoughts on their next improvement project. I asked for a bigger kitchen but was shot down.

  “Have you been over to Thane’s corner?” Nick asks, pointing at the man and location in question. We call it the Corner of Heavy Things, because that’s where they store the big tires, the super-heavy dumbbells, and a few other pieces of equipment that are meant to be picked up and put down.

  Refocusing on Nick and Roly, I admit, “You know, I’ve never used any of the equipment.” It’s kind of embarrassing, really.

  “Dude! What’s the point of volunteering if you’re not gonna take advantage of the gym? Get your ass over to Thane right now. He’ll get you squared away.”

  Nick isn’t one to be trifled with, so I dutifully walk over and tap Thane on the shoulder.

  He turns around and does a double take. “Jake! I don’t think you’ve ever visited me over here. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Nick said I had to.”

  Thane laughs knowingly. “He sends a lot of people over here.” After an awkward silence, his energy goes gentle, and he asks, “Having a bad brain day?”

  I scrunch my face up, surprised by the emotion right at the surface. “Yeah. Guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised that, in the gym for combat vets, you’re the guy to go to.”

  He smiles, ignoring the dander that’s being stirred up within me. “Actually, I think we’re both the go-to guy. I’ve heard him order people to go to your yoga classes.”

  That would explain the jump in participation. “Wait, is that how you ended up there last Friday?”

  He crosses his arms across his chest. “What do you think?”

  I think that I may be a scowly motherfucker, but I do love this place.

  “I think that you’d go to a yoga class just about as willingly as I’d go to a CrossFit situation.” We both laugh, and I figure it’s best to get this show on the road. “So, what do you suggest for me?”

  Thane uncrosses his arms and rests his hands on his hips, thoughtful. “Depends. Would you say that you have big problems, anxious thoughts, or numb thoughts?”

  “Anxious thoughts.
”

  “Excellent. Let’s go over to the barbells.”

  He asks me a few questions about what I’ve lifted most recently, and the answer is nothing, save for my body weight workouts.

  “No shame in the body weight game. Let’s start with something simple, say, a hundred pounds.”

  That sounds like a lot, but ooookkay.

  He walks me through the process of the clean and jerk, shows me a few times, letting me do it with lighter weights while I get my form down, and then he puts on the full weight. I bend at the knees, grab the bar, straighten my back and lift, then pull the bar up to my collarbone before pushing it up and over my head. It’s not a bad feeling, being able to manage all of that weight. I drop the weights onto the ground with a satisfying grunt.

  Thane talks through a few more pointers with me and adds a couple more discs to the bar. I repeat the process, and while it’s harder, it’s still doable. We stop and talk again, and he adds even more weight. It’s more difficult this time, but still, I manage to get it up.

  “Do you think that you could take some more weight on the bar?” he asks, holding up another set of discs like they’re dinner plates, and he’s asking if I want seconds.

  “No, I’m pretty close to my limit, at least for today.”

  Thane places the weights back on their rack. “Excellent. It’s always good to know where your limits are so that you know how to go past them.”

  With that, he takes the heavy chain that I’ve seen Nick use and drapes them around my shoulders. “Try again.”

  I’m massively incredulous, but he motions me forward. I settle into the extra weight on my body and go through the clean and jerk motion again. Even though it’s significantly harder, it is doable. Thane smiles and adds another set of chains across my shoulders.

  “One more time, please.”

  I struggle with this particular one, and I can feel myself shaking and sweating as I bring the bar up to my collarbones. I let out a yell as I complete the push above my head, then let the weights drop to the floor, along with the chains around my neck.