Learning to Live Again (A Josh Ramsay Fan fiction)

Chapter Six:

“Seriously, still don’t believe me eh?” 

“Let me ask you something,” I said, “If you were him, at least sometimes, wouldn’t it be nice if you were able to eat a meal, or do something, anything, without people running up to you and screaming?  Would you not want to be invisible at least sometimes?”

He just looked at me as if he was thinking about what kind of peace that might bring.  As I continued, “Therefore, for me to not think you are you; you would be able to eat, work, and live in peace for at least a little while.”

He smiled as if he agreed a little bit that solitude would be nice, but then just as quickly said, “No, I love the attention and am quite hurt that you think I am an impersonator.”

“Hurt, really you don’t even know who I am.”  

“True but I have never had to work this hard before to convince someone to give me a ride!”

“Get in the car, I am willing to give the benefit of the doubt.”  I said and smiled. 

As we walked towards my car, Josh stated with an evil smile, as if trying to scare me again, “well if you don’t believe me, what if I am a serial killer, or worse.” 

“I have worked with them before, besides, I have both pepper spray and perhaps a firearm with me, so...I like my chances.” I smirked as I unlocked the doors. 

“Um… I think I will sit in the backseat.” 

“No, you will sit in the passenger seat and keep your hands were I can see them” I smiled. 

“What difference does that make,” he asked, but tentatively got into the passenger side. 

“Think about it” I said, as I put my bags in the backseat, “in the backseat if you are up to no good, you could easily wrap something around my throat, gun or knife to my back... In the front, I can at least see your hands, and stop the car if needed.” 

“What do you do,” he asked with a look of awe, amazement and a little fear on his face. 

“That, Mr. Ramsay would be confidential,” I told him with a laugh.  He just looked at me a little confused.  “I’m joking!”  I said as I closed the backdoor, and got in behind the wheel.  “I run various types of programs, working with male and female offenders who are on parole in the community.  Very generally speaking, the programs focus on anger management, consequential thinking, problem solving, goal setting, impulse control, and communication and conflict resolution skills.  Basically, teaching how to deal with life and various problems without resorting to violence, drug use, or criminal behaviour.”  I said matter of fact as I started the car. 

“So that guy, what was his name, oh yeah, Mr. Smith, was he a co-worker?”  Josh asked already knowing the answer. 

“No, a client actually, I can’t tell you much, but he has a lot of domestic violence issues.”

“And you weren’t nervous around him?”

“I’m sorry, were you involved in a completely separate incident in which the female ‘victim’” I said using air quotes, “was not freaked the fuck out!  Of course I was nervous, more so since we were all around the corner, away from potential witnesses, and I thought the two of you were working together!”  I said confused that he could have already forgotten our chance encounter.

“No, I didn’t mean just now, but when you work with him.”  Josh clarified. 

“And wait, what, seriously, you thought we were working together??  To do what?” 

I blushed, “Well I don’t know, you grabbed me, then he followed, I freaked out a little.  Seriously, if you really knew what I did, the kind of reports that I have to read and write, you would not be so shocked that I thought what I did!” I laughed.  “And to answer your other question, No I am not really nervous to work with him or others like him.  Don’t get me wrong, there are times, more often than not that I think the worst case scenario, our little situation is a case in point, but so far, knock on wood, my groups have been really good, I have not had any indication that they are going to be aggressive and attack me.” 

Josh just stared at me, at a loss for words.  I looked at him and laughed, and said, “What?” 

“But you are so small, what about 5 feet, and I bet you weigh 110lbs soaking wet.” 

I corrected him and said “5’2 and it is rude to guess a woman’s weight”, but then thanked him for the under guess.  “Well I use to be a Correctional Officer and worked at Kingston Penitentiary for a number of years before...” I started to trail off, and quickly changed the subject as I blinked back the tears.  “Enough about me,” I smiled, “where am I taking you?”  I am not sure if he noticed the change, but he didn’t question and told me where they were playing.  I put the car in drive, and pulled out of the parking lot.

“I am not entirely sure where that is,” I said, “so you will have to navigate.”

“I took a cab here; I don’t know where I am going?”

“Alright, thank God for modern technology” I laughed.  I pulled out my phone, and gave it to Josh stating, “pull up the maps app and type in the address.”  I pulled the car into a gas station since there was no point in driving around if we were headed in the wrong direction.

“I think you need to unlock your phone.”  Josh stated,

“Oh shit, sorry,” he handed it back to me.  I immediately had to hold back some tears, as I know he would have seen the home screen photo, which clearly brought up some painful memories.  I am not even sure why I have not changed the picture, except, it reminded me of a happier time, when he was alive, we were married and I was genuinely happy.