Rules of Escape

Chapter 15 - Peter

Peter wraps his arms around Chantelle as she stands over the hot stove stirring noodles.  Chantelle tastes the hot noodles, testing them for readiness. How could eating noodles be sexy? 

"Remember how I was asking you about Evan and his rights a few months ago?" Peter asks.

"Ummm," Chantelle says, trying to remove undercooked pasta from her teeth. "Oh yeah, I remember. You wondered how you could help get him out of his home."

"It turns out his brother is helping him learn living skills and when Evan's ready, he'll move into his grandfather's summer cottage."

"Well, there you go. And you thought you'd have to present a case and battle to the bitter end for him. So what happens to your job? Do you get a new client to work with?"

"I think, for the first bit anyway, I might visit Evan once a week just to make sure he's doing okay. Then ya, I guess I get a new client."

"Good for you, hon. I'm proud of you. You're helping a young man that you believe in, achieve his dreams."

"You should hear the questions he asks. He wants to know about money. How to count it, how to make change, how to look after a bank account, how to get a job, where his money goes, how to get it out of a bank... it goes on and on. He learns so fast, I'm always just barely keeping a step ahead of him. Today we were using the computer because I didn't know the answers to all the questions he was asking. It was almost, sort of, I don't know. Sometimes I feel exhausted after my shift. But it's good you know. Right?"

"Of course."

"He wants to be independent and then he wants to help get his friends become independent."

"Wow that's fantastic. You've really got the ball rolling and you're playing a huge role in his success."

"That's what I'm afraid of. I mean this is good, isn't it?"

"How could it not be? This is what everyone hopes for and dreams of for people who need care. Everyone wants them to become normal and able to contribute to society. Stop doubting yourself. What you're doing is good."

The noodles are finally done and sitting limply in a strainer in the sink. Chantelle turns around to face Peter and wraps her arms around his neck. Peter loves impressing her. It is rare that she seems so proud of him because of his job. Two more years she had said, then he could go to school full-time and think about his career because she would have a salary the two of them could live off of.

"You're so sensitive, my love," Chantelle says. 

Peter feels himself falling. Every day, he feels himself falling more in love with Chantelle. How is that possible? Another day, he'd tell her about the telepathy between clients. It will sound weird if he mentions it now. It will ruin the moment. He doesn't want anything to change the adoring look on her face as she gazes up at him.

Anyway, that telepathy business, makes Peter want to laugh. It seems so silly now that Chantelle is right here looking up at him. So silly. Who cares anyways? Even if it is real, it is Evan's business, not his.

Later that night, Peter notices that Chantelle is tossing and turning. Eventually, she lies on her back staring at the ceiling.

"What're you thinking about?" Peter asks.

"My supervisor has asked if I want to be on the legal team for a murder trial. I have to give her an answer tomorrow."

"Hey that's great!"

"It could take more than a year. I just don't feel ...ready, yet."

"You'd be part of team though, so you wouldn't be on your own. It would be excellent experience. You can't say no."

"I know."

Peter puts his arm over Chantelle. "You'll do fine. Really." Chantelle lies still, not saying anything. When she sniffs, he hugs her more tightly. He can feel her tension.  "Is something else wrong?" 

Chantelle turns on her side, away from Peter. "I'm just feeling emotional."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm just really tired."

After a few more sniffles, Chantelle falls asleep, leaving Peter wide awake. What is bothering her? Why can't she talk to him about it? The doors of Peter's imagination burst open and possibilities pour out. Eventually, he crawls out of bed.

He doesn't want to snoop. He really doesn't. He just can't sleep, that's all. He'll go back to bed soon.

He clicks on her phone and glances at some of her messages. He doesn't find anything alarming. He scrolls through her mail box. Same thing. Just a lot of junk mail and some work related mail.

What is he looking for anyways? He knows he is focusing on the worst of his imaginings. He wants to look through her purse, but stops himself. He is being paranoid. When she is ready, she will let him know what is bothering her. He has to believe that. There has to be trust between them. He puts her purse down and climbs back into bed.

If only he had a better job. He would buy her a house and new car. He'd take her shopping at the most expensive stores. He'd buy her anything she wanted. Maybe that's why she is sad. She works with good looking, successful men who can give her all that and more. Maybe she is doubting their relationship. What could he give her?

Half asleep, Peter realizes all he can give her is space and time. And his trust. When she is ready, he is sure she will talk to him. She has, after all, told him not to doubt himself. He snuggles close to Chantelle, breathing in the sweetness of her hair. He trusts her. He has no choice - he loves her.