WORK IN PROGRESS: Guy and Reason

Chapter 12 (Eden/Reason): Tell Me

"It's late, Eden. Why don't you just spend the night here?"

My mother's quiet voice broke into the silence. Looking down at my phone, I tapped the blank screen to see it was well after midnight. I had to get up for work in six hours, but I hadn't been able to stop reading all of the information Guy had provided me about A Reason to Care. After I'd stopped crying in my car, I'd gone into my childhood home because I'd needed the familiar comfort of it after everything I'd just learned.

I'd also Googled the charity and found article after article about it, some with testimonies from the people being helped and the leaders of the communities A Reason was going into, others just containing general information about the charity, and still others about specific fundraisers that were being held to raise awareness and money for it.

It had grown substantially from the first year, and now the mobile clinics were in twenty different communities, and I could see the organization was poised for the next major step forward. My brain had already begun working overtime, thinking that some permanent clinics would make sense at this point in some of the larger communities where the mobile clinics were getting overwhelmed with people needing care, which would free up the mobile clinics for other communities --

"Eden?"

My mom took a seat next to me at the table and tapped the thick pile of papers.

"These will still be here tomorrow. Why don't you go to bed, honey? You said you had work tomorrow."

"I do. I know I should sleep, but Mom, this is amazing. In three years, they've already helped more than a hundred thousand people -- people who would probably be going without care either because of money or problems getting to a doctor. They've already improved infant mortality rates in these communities because pregnant women are getting the prenatal care they weren't getting before for various reasons."

"That is amazing. But I'm your mom so I'm going to start momming and tell you to go up to your room and get some sleep. You can read more tomorrow. Well, actually today when you get home from work. Your patients need you rested."

"Yes, mother," I grumped at her. She pressed a kiss to my head and we both got up and headed to bed. It took me a while to sleep, but I managed five solid hours, so that was workable as long as I didn't make a habit of it. I could push anything personal aside and focus one hundred percent on my patients, so I did, but the minute my shift ended, I was thinking again, going over the information my brain had absorbed.

Heading over to my apartment, I grabbed a fast salad to counteract the cheeseburger I got to go with it and headed for my place. When I'd left my mom's this morning to get ready, I'd taken a minute to set the papers out on my little kitchen table, ready for me to dive into again once I got home.

After rushing through my shower, I pulled on some comfy sweats and a loose cotton shirt, flipped my hair up on the top of my head and sat down in front of the papers again. Tonight, I took my time; last night I'd blasted through them like I was a starving person suddenly standing in front of a buffet. As I ate my dinner, I started at the beginning, taking the time to think and consider every single word I was absorbing. The growth had been remarkable and Guy had fortunately had an excellent board and management team to guide and advise him.

Four hours later, I'd gone through all of the information again and found it no less amazing. Guy had taken what we'd planned and carried it out to the letter, even adding a service we'd never talked about but was an excellent addition to the roster of services offered. Other than that, everything was just as we'd talked about.

When I yawned, I knew I had to go to bed, especially given the previous night's lack of sleep. I was one of those people who needed seven hours a night to be at my best, and so, once again, I dragged myself away from those papers and made myself go to bed.

After work, instead of heading home, I headed to Leslie's house, hoping to catch Guy at home. He answered the door wearing glasses, a loose T-shirt and shorts. That he was surprised to see me on his doorstep was an understatement, but a second after he realized I was right in front of him, he smiled in welcome.

"Eden, come on in," he pushed open the screen door so I could walk in.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked. "Food? A snack?  A sandwich? Looks like you just came from work."

I had, and maybe I should have stopped at home to change, but I wanted to talk to him as soon as possible. All of the thoughts in my head wouldn't stop churning.

"No, thanks. I'm good. I just wanted to talk to you. About A Reason to Care. Do you have time? Am I interrupting anything?" Geez, these rapid-fire sentences made me sound as if I didn't know how to string two sentences together coherently.

"No. I was just debugging an upgrade to one of the software programs we're using. It can wait. Go ahead and have a seat," he said and once again, I sat in the chair and he sat on the end of the couch closest to the chair.

"So, first, I have to say, you've done an amazing job with the charity, Guy. It's everything we talked about. I read everything twice and...it's incredible."

"It was you, Eden. I just pulled the trigger on what we had always planned."

"Let's be real, Guy. I gave up on it, and you carried it through. You made it happen."

"I had the resources to do it. You didn't. And I did it for the reasons I told you. It gave me the incentive that I needed to get out of the hole I'd found myself in."

"A hole you dug, Guy," I snapped.

His jaw clenched. "To my everlasting regret because I hurt you."

I closed my eyes, needing to regroup and back away from this line of thought. 

"That's not what I came to discuss. I wanted to know if you could arrange for me to go out with one of the mobile clinics on Friday. I'm off that day because I work Saturday this week, so I'll have time."

"Consider it done. How do you want me to get you the where and when information?"

"I'll unblock you," I told him. "But that's all I want to see from you. Don't take this as an invitation to text me randomly, thinking we're friends or even friendly."

"I wouldn't," he assured me calmly. 

I blew out a breath. "I'm sorry. I can't seem to help taking pot shots at you, and I don't even mean to."

"Eden," he said quietly, "you could take a bat to me and I wouldn't stop you."

For some reason, that softly-spoken comment made my eyes burn.

"This has been a lot to take in, Guy. The night you gave me the information about A Reason, I drove to my mom's house and sat in my car and cried because you made this happen. Our dream was a reality, and all I could think about was how many people were being helped -- and it wasn't even close to the actual number in the reports. This is so much bigger than we ever imagined it would be."

"It's something you knew was needed."

"And, honestly, I loved the addition of mental health services. That was something I never considered. How did that come about?"

Guy regarded me steadily for a long moment. "Do you really want to know? Because I'll tell you, but it's a long story and it's tied to what you've explicitly told me you didn't want to discuss."

No, I definitely didn't want to know in that case.

But right behind that thought, my mother's words snuck up on me:

You only half talked to him. You told him how you felt, but you didn't get any answers, Eden.

What you didn't ask was all of the whys you have running around in that head of yours...you never got your answers, and I think that's been holding you back.

I think you need a sit-down to ask your questions. Get them all out and answered...

"Tell me," I said.