“Dinner?” Roger’s voice seemed stronger than it had been in months.
“Yes.” She turned toward him.
A sad smile lifted his lips. “Thanks for doing that.” He pressed his palm into his right eyebrow.
“Are you doing okay? Can I get you an ice pack?” Emilia moved toward the freezer.
He held out his other hand. “No. You do enough for me already. I got this.” There was a tremor in his arm. A new symptom. Something she hadn’t seen before. After more than a year of hospitals, grueling rehab, and frustrating doctor visits, they’d pushed off further testing until they’d caught up on the mountains of paperwork and red tape. But maybe it was time to make an appointment—if she could even get Roger to go.
EMILIA PULLED UP behind Seth Wallace’s squad car and flipped on her lights. Blue and red flashed in rhythm with the lights on the other two squad cars. “You need any help here?” She sidled next to the deputy, who had a shirtless man draped over his hood while fastening flexi-cuffs to the man’s tattooed wrists.
“I think we got it. His buddies are already on the way to the station. They can continue their party in the county jail.” He tugged the man upright and guided him toward the back seat.
Matted hair swung away from the guy’s eyes with a flip of his head, revealing a glassy, bloodshot glare matched with a sneer and rotten teeth.
A woman sat on the curb, blood curling from a cut below her eye, a rip along the neck of her T-shirt.
“What about her?” Emilia tipped her head toward the woman.
Seth shook his head. “She’s the wife of the other guy. Took a hit to the face but refuses to give a statement against him.” He shook his head. “Could you give it a try? Maybe she’ll respond better to a woman.”
Emilia stretched her fingers, then bent them in one knuckle at a time. She’d try, but this was a familiar scene that didn’t seem to come with alternative endings. “All right. I’ll let you know if I can get one.”
Seth shut the back door, his lips quirked in a tight smile. “Good luck with that.”
“Hey, there’s got to be hope, right?”
“Right.” He signaled the other deputy, then slid into his seat.
A large boom dwarfed the spits and sputters of the other fireworks around and drew the gawkers’ attention away from the arrests. In the dark sky, an explosion of red and blue lit the night. Couples snuggled on blankets in the grass, their heads tipped toward each other.
She and Roger had never done that. With the jobs they both worked, the Fourth of July was a time to save lives, not savor their own.
Emilia approached the curb as the fireworks took on full force. Lights flashed across the woman’s face, her mouth tight, eyes moist.
“How are you doing?” Emilia spoke loudly enough to be heard over the music and thundering entertainment.
“Can I go now? I want to get my man out of jail.” She stood, her stance defiant, though her face didn’t match.
“Let me be straight with you: There are other choices. You don’t have to live like this.”
“Like what? What makes you think you can judge me?” Her lower jaw jutted forward.
“I’m not. Listen, he hit you tonight, and I’m guessing that wasn’t the first time. No one deserves to be treated that way. You have value.”
An ache spread across Emilia’s chest. Tally’s dad had once told Emilia that she was nothing more than a dog. She could have stayed in that life. She nearly did. “I understand what you’re feeling far better than you think. I know he tells you this is what you deserve. And I know he’ll say he’s sorry and it won’t happen again. But it always does.” She slipped her hand into her breast pocket and pulled out the tiny wallet where she kept resource cards. Unfolding it, she found the one with information on domestic violence help and support. “Here. Just take this and promise me you’ll consider calling.”
“If I take it, you’ll leave me alone?”
“You haven’t committed a crime. Take the card, and I won’t bother you again until the next time he hurts you.”
She pulled the card from Emilia’s fingers and shoved it into her brightly colored woven purse. Then, without a word, she turned away and started down the sidewalk.
Emilia’s shoulder radio squawked in her ear. “We have a call for a medical at 841 North Nineteenth. Deputy Cruz, do you copy?”
Emilia gasped, nearly falling as she stepped back into the curb. Her heart hammered as she pressed the button to respond. “I got it. On my way.”
They were heading to Emilia’s house.
19
Brianne coughed into her arm before returning to the task of plugging the DVD player into the back of the television. It’s not like she prided herself on her housekeeping skills, but the layer of dust there was enough to label the place a hazard. How embarrassing to have her house burst into flames because it had never occurred to her to clean the electronics.
But at least there’d be firemen, and maybe a handsome deputy.
Of course, since today was the Fourth, the first responders would probably be too busy to save her. Through her open windows, she could hear the distant booms of the county display. Addison and the kids would be watching the show, hopefully making new memories.
Brianne thumped her forehead with her palm. She’d never been one of those girls to fawn over guys, but it had been over a year since her breakup. She really did need to get out more. The last meaningful conversation she’d had with a single man was with the guy who’d come out to pump the septic tank. He easily had ten more years than her father under his belt. If he’d bothered to wear a belt, that was. Brianne sure wished he had.
She pressed the plug into the outlet, and the player whirred in response. Brianne turned on the television and selected the right input. Toy Story played on the screen. Brianne pushed Open and removed the disc, carefully placing it on the television stand.
At some level, Addison’s leaving a movie in the player gave Brianne a touch of satisfaction. Addison seemed like the kind of person who didn’t mess up often. This made her a tiny touch more human.
Brianne pulled open the jewel case marked as Amanda’s first visit and placed the disc on the tray as if she were depositing a butterfly onto a leaf. With a nudge, the disc slid into the machine, and an image appeared on the screen.
Sliding back on the floor until she was up against the front of the couch, Brianne pulled her knees to her chest and watched herself on the television, adjusting the camera. Six years ago, she’d looked like a child. How had anyone taken her seriously? But they had. They’d listened to her advice, and decisions were made based on her expertise.
She hadn’t even been a parent.
The scene shifted to a shot of the empty room; then Amanda entered. She rushed forward toward the castle set up on a table in the corner of the play therapy area. A grin spread across her face as she picked up the princess and held it out for all to see. Her mouth moved, and Brianne realized she hadn’t adjusted the volume. She lunged for the remote, somehow no longer willing to wait another second to hear Amanda’s eight-year-old voice again.
“Good morning, Amanda. I’m Brianne.” A younger Brianne knelt beside the girl with two lopsided brown braids. “How are you today?”
“I’m good.” Amanda picked up the throne and set it in front of the castle. She turned for a moment, her eyes facing the camera, a sweet smile brightening her face. “I think the princess would rather sit outside in the sunshine.”
The hour went on with Brianne and Amanda playing and talking. Leanne, Amanda’s mother, sat in the stuffed chair at one end of the room. She didn’t interfere or even participate in the interaction.
“Amanda, can you tell me about your family?” Brianne reached for a large drawing pad, sketching a picture of Amanda in the center of the page.
“Is that me?”
“It sure is.”
Amanda smiled up at Brianne.
“Let’s draw a picture together of all the peo
ple in your family. Who should we start with?”
“My baby brother.” Amanda shifted her focus toward the paper, the princess still held protectively in her hand.
“What’s his name?”
“Cameron.”
“Can you tell me a little about Cameron?”
“He’s tiny. He has no teeth. I really like to hold him.” She brushed a hand against her upper arm.
“Okay, where should we put Cameron?”
Amanda pointed to her middle. “I want him in my arms.”
Brianne drew a baby where Amanda had indicated.
“Who’s next?”
They continued through Amanda’s three-year-old brother, her mother, and her father. The children were all close together, but she placed the mother a bit to the side and the father at the edge of the page.
“Can you tell me why you put your dad way over here?”
Amanda looked down at the doll in her hand. She shrugged her shoulders.
“Amanda, do you remember that this is a safe place to talk?”
She nodded.
“Why do you think your dad is all the way over here?” She pointed to the dad picture. “And you and your brothers are way over here.” She indicated the group.
Amanda began to pick at some peeling skin on her thumb. “He’s scary sometimes.”
Leanne leaned forward in her chair, her arms resting on her thighs.
The pencil shook for a moment in Brianne’s grip.
There was no disclosure of abuse in the session. No indication as to why Amanda found her father scary, only a blanket of dread that Brianne remembered as sharply as if she were back in that room again. And a mother who had ultimately seemed desperate to have charges filed against her husband.
Brianne pushed Off on the remote, turning the screen to blue. She needed time to process, to see this like someone from the outside, but all she could do right now was feel the wickedness, the darkness, the fear that this little girl, as precious and innocent as any human had ever been, could be the victim of terrible and evil acts.
What Brianne needed was some time outside of her suddenly claustrophobic house.
TWO HOURS EARLIER, Addison had been determined to do everything in her power to give her kids the normal holiday they deserved. Two hours earlier, Caleb had suggested she take Brianne along. Two hours earlier, Addison had felt the sting of doubt in his words, as if she weren’t perfectly capable of caring for their children on her own.
Addison sat on the red, black, and blue plaid blanket, wishing she’d brought another to cover her legs. Hannah had pulled the corner over her feet and lay watching the sky as fireworks took over the darkness, exploding into colorful blooms of light.
Connor dug a stick into the dirt with one hand while his other kept a steady stream of potato chips traveling from the open bag to his mouth.
“Lilly, would you please sit down?” The child hadn’t set herself on the blanket once since Addison laid it out to protect their space, a spot that turned out to be about twenty feet away from an altercation between a woman, her clearly high boyfriend, and some other guy. “Lilly, I’m serious. Sit down.” Her voice had an edge she recognized with a shiver.
Regardless of what the harsh tone cost Addison, Lilly finally minded and took a seat on the blanket.
Being out here with people milling around, music pounding right along with the fireworks, and the stench of sulfur, cigarettes, and marijuana revealed just how vulnerable Addison and her family were. At any time, the world could tip, taking away the pretty pieces Addison had worked so hard to put together. Someone could snatch Lilly. Connor could fall in with a group of lawbreakers. Hannah could be seduced away by someone claiming to love her. Life was dangerous.
Caleb could be arrested.
Every moment, Addison was aware that her husband could be taken away without her ever understanding what had really happened that night. Their pretty lives were already splattered with dirt. How much farther down would they go?
Maybe they’d been heading downward for a long time, and she just hadn’t noticed. Her mother had had a way of seeing exactly what she wanted to see, regardless of the truth. Maybe Addison was like her after all, and running away from that relationship wasn’t enough to keep her own family safe. Addison was exactly what her mother had said she was—stupid. What kind of woman missed the clues that her husband was lying?
Paranoia took over as her controls fractured. They’d moved here from Brice. Did Caleb have reasons beyond those they’d discussed? Was it to be closer to another woman, or to keep the women in his life separate?
How long before this woman showed up on their doorstep? Did she have children too?
Addison’s paranoia dove deeper. What if the other woman had been someone she’d known back in Brice? Could one of her children have shared a classroom with a half sibling? There was that boy in Lilly’s kindergarten class who looked so much like Connor at that age. His mother was a gorgeous blonde, not an extra ounce of weight on her Pilates-trained body. She sure didn’t mind letting everyone see just how fit she was, wearing yoga pants around as if they were a pair of jeans.
And she was single.
Addison wrapped her arms around her knees, which took a bit more effort than it used to. The weight she’d gained with Lilly hadn’t all disappeared in the six years since that pregnancy. There was a mound of rounded flesh where she’d once had a flat stomach. Caleb never seemed to mind, but maybe he did and hadn’t said anything. Maybe Addison’s aging, inflating body wasn’t a problem for him because he had someone else.
Sweat broke out across her forehead and chest, quickly cooling in the night breeze. Where was she supposed to go if her marriage ended? She had no job and lived in her mother-in-law’s home. She couldn’t support the children on her own.
“Mom!” Lilly stomped her foot, catching the toe of her cowboy boot on Addison’s shin. “I’m talking to you.”
Addison straightened, pulling herself out of her over-the-top pity party. “And not in a very nice way, either.”
“Why didn’t you do something about that boy?” She pointed down the walkway, where families, couples, and teens were pushing along toward their homes. “He stepped right on our cookies.” She jutted her hand out toward the paper plate of cookie crumbles as if presenting the jury with Exhibit A.
Connor came from the right, kicking the plate off the blanket with the side of his foot. “Goal!”
Lilly clapped both hands over her face and howled.
Addison climbed to her feet. “Why, Connor?” She shook her head.
He shrugged his shoulders but picked up the plate, which had landed ten feet from an overflowing garbage can.
Parenting was about a million times harder than Addison had thought it would be. Maybe it was her fault that her own mother had gone off some mental wellness cliff. Yet even if Addison did feel like her sanity was sometimes a millimeter out of reach, she would never blame her children. Hannah, Connor, and Lilly were a blessing. A hard blessing sometimes, but the harder the work, the better the reward, right?
And Caleb—even though it looked bad, he couldn’t have done all the things that her anxious mind was capable of cooking up.
Addison shook off the blanket and bundled it into the West Crow High School canvas bag she’d bought from the booster club during last year’s basketball season. They probably hadn’t even known that she was the wife of the coach. They sure would now, and she’d certainly be the low man on the small-town gossip food chain.
Lilly’s face was flushed red in the light of the streetlamp. All around, parents were carrying sleeping children on their shoulders, probably hoping for the miracle of getting them home and into bed without waking them.
Addison took one of Lilly’s fisted hands in hers and started to lead them on the hike to the car. She motioned for Connor but didn’t see Hannah. Addison froze. “Connor, where is your sister?”
He gave a lazy nod toward the river.
Hannah
stood near the railing, looking anywhere but at her family. Thirteen was no laughing matter. Anything could mortify Hannah. Addison’s heart broke. Her daughter with the sensitive soul and the endless teen insecurity was about to be the new kid at school. As if that weren’t bad enough, she was the daughter of a basketball coach who could be on his way to jail for vehicular manslaughter.
No matter how much Addison loved Hannah, it wouldn’t make up for that.
20
Glass shards still littered the carpet as the paramedics gave Emilia one more questioning glance before walking out the door. “Thanks, guys.”
“You got it. If anything else happens, give us a call. Or take him in to the ER.” The younger one—Emilia had forgotten his name—hefted the large bag of medical supplies as he left.
By now, even the late-night partiers seemed to have quieted down, probably more curious about the ambulance than the fireworks they usually would be abusing.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emilia reached toward Roger but didn’t touch him. Sometimes even the slightest contact seemed to cause him pain.
“It’s just a migraine. I wasn’t paying attention, and I fell into the lamp.” Bandages covered small cuts along his neck and the side of his face. “I’ll be fine in the morning.” He stood slowly, his left hand holding the edge of the couch a little longer than usual, then offered her a sad smile and ambled off toward the bedroom.
It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen, but something didn’t feel right. The instinct she used on the job told her there was more to the story. Emilia opened the hall closet and pulled out the tank vacuum she’d inherited from her grandmother. It felt like a hundred pounds on the end of a giant leash, but she couldn’t afford to replace it with a newer, lighter model.
She pulled the garbage can into the living room from the kitchen and carefully deposited the larger chunks of what had been the last beautiful thing she owned. As she dropped the final piece, she noticed Tally standing in the doorway. She was wearing an old T-shirt from last summer’s soccer camp, something Emilia had forgotten to sign her up for this year. Maybe she’d catch a break, and it wouldn’t be too late.
More Than We Remember Page 13