Cabin Fever

Chapter 11

Curt stood and immediately began pacing. I laid my hands in my lap and stared at them, jealous of Curt's two uninjured feet and ability to burn off his frustration in large, heavy steps. I felt a sudden urge to panic and knew I needed to breathe, but as I forced breaths in and out of my lungs I ended up hyperventilating. Before I knew it Curt was next to me, one hand on my back, the other on my rapidly bouncing knee. "Just breathe Joy. Just breathe..." He calmly said as the weight of his hands began to steady me and I slowly made my way back to reality.

"You knew?" I looked up at him, mortified. "For how long?" My voice now rough and oxygen deprived. My anger was rising by the minute and if Curt didn't answer, honestly, soon, I was going to walk out. Curt slumped next to me. "Joy." He sighed. "Your uncle and I have remained friends. I've had a key to the cabin for years." Now he turned to look me in the eyes. "Mike let me know that you were coming up and I offered to help." Curt scrubbed a palm against his face. "I didn't intend for it to be weird. I honestly thought you'd remember."

I pushed myself up, everything suddenly was closing in. I felt weak, my body almost limp, but I needed to get out of the room. "Joy!" Concern laced Curt's voice as I pressed my body to trek outside. Finally I was outside, my skin shivered at the stark temperature change, goosebumps popping up everywhere. "God. Why? What is this? What did I get myself into?" I paced on the deck, my boot thudding its way along, me limping, emotions running out of control. "I just don't understand...." My voice trailed off and the next moment an intense pain shot through my ankle and I reached out for anything to hold me upright. In the midst of my little tantrum, Curt had stepped outside. He instinctively reached out, catching my hands as I very nearly wiped out. My already cool skin had notched down another degree as it took on a chill from the mountain air. His warm fingers caused my skin to tingle and sent my brain into a tizzy. Curt wrapped his arm around my waist and led me back inside. He held me tightly as he lowered me to the couch.

"I just..." I began as the tears welled up. I felt betrayed, as though I'd been used and mistreated even though Curt had done nothing of the sort during the past six days. But my brain, oh my poor brain, it would not function or allow for a clean escape. No, it needed to vent to voice the hurt, betrayal, pain. "I just don't understand why you would do that to me!" I shouted. Curt visibly winced and retreated the tone of my voice. I was hurt and he needed to know. He needed to take responsibility for his actions.

He nodded and stood, hanging his head. "I'm sorry Joy." His voice held a tinge of true sadness. "I never wanted this to happen." He glanced up to meet my eyes, but only locked on to my frosty stare for a moment as I crossed my arms. My foot ached and I wished for this to stop. I wished for him to care long enough to help me. But he didn't know and I wasn't in the mood to cave and curtail this much needed hashing out conversation.

For several long moments all that needed to be said hung in the air. It was heavy, thick, almost unbearable. But Curt seemed to realize that I needed some space and processing time. Even just a few minutes. When I finally did speak it felt like light cutting through darkness, like a smoky haze being doused with a cool stream of water. It was as everything stood still and we could both breathe again without fear of suffocation.

What transpired over the next hour left me suspended in a 'not quite sure what to think state.'

"I'm sorry." I sniffed, wiping my tear filled eyes with the back of my hand. "Curt, I..." The words died on my lips. Curt approached me, sliding down beside me on the couch. "Shhh." Curt's finger made its way toward my lips in an attempt to hush the words I didn't even know were about to make their way out. "It's okay." He whispered. His tone soft, caring.

I bit my tongue, literally, as a reminder not to say something that would cause an even deeper wound. I took a deep, shuddering breath in hopes that I could will my brain into submission before it did something stupid. Curt placed his hand over mine and squeezed lightly. "I'm sorry too, Joy. You have no idea how sorry..." His voice was hoarse and raw.

Curt seemed to sense that there was something else bothering me and his gut told him it was my foot. And just like that he was right back to caring for me, not so much because I couldn't, more because he knew just how stubborn I was and he was there, so why not help. He released my hand, reached for a pillow and motioned (as seemed to be the most natural form of communication between the two of us) for me to put my foot on the pillow. I leaned my head back on the couch, needing to relax, needing to let go, needing to forgive.

Curt did what he'd done every single time he'd been around me this week. He placed an ice pack on my swollen ankle and allowed me to calm the heck down. If I couldn't pace, then I sure as heck needed some mental space to release my pent up emotions.

It was well after midnight when Curt left and we'd finally settled a few things. Many, many emotions were left unsaid, but for the time being we cleared the air enough to at least cough our way through. What could have ended on such a terrible note was actually kind of sweet and Curt offered to come out in the morning and help me pack up.

I'd, of course, begrudgingly agreed and it was set.

--------------

The amount of time Curt chided himself for his stupidity was insane. He felt like not only the worst man, but the worst friend in the world. Joy had trusted him with so many emotionally heavy things. Who was he to think that she might just fall into his arms after his confession? Who did he think he was anyway? Ugh. He was just stupid and that was all there was to it.

By the time he parked, he realized his eyes were moist and his nose runny. He smacked his palms on the steering wheel, immediately regretting it as the sharp sting of pain ran through his hands. "How could you be so stupid, Curt?" He yelled at himself. He needed God's guidance tonight, but instead he'd taken matters into his own hands and taken a deep dive, headfirst into something that could have been approached with more delicacy than he offered.

"God..." He choked out. "Help." Curt spent the next hour in a state of mostly silence. Hoping against everything that God would still listen and answer him. He was worn out as he shut the front door with a thud and collapsed against it, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. He banged his head back against the wood, and closed his eyes.

Next thing he knew, sunlight streamed in through the windows encasing the door. He blinked warily, reaching up to massage the crick in his neck. With a start he realized that it was morning and he'd spent the last several hours sleeping propped up by the door. He checked his watch, only seven thirty. He breathed a sigh of relief as he figured there was almost no way Joy would be up yet, let alone loading up her car to leave.