Leave Me Breathless: The Ivy Collection

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Leave Me Breathless: The Ivy Collection Page 15

by KL Donn


  She gasps and snivels at the same time, both agreeing and surprised that I noticed at the same time. “It was easy enough to accept the diagnosis of him being on the autism spectrum after he wasn’t meeting milestone upon milestone once he hit the toddler years. I’d seen it coming from half a planet away. The next step was to decide how alert and functioning he was. When they came back and told me he was very high-functioning and had Asperger’s, I cried like a baby. I knew even thought he was still on the spectrum that high functioning was preferred; it’s what every parent wants whose child is on the spectrum. I needed to be able to connect with my child and be able to love him openly and receive love in return. What I wasn’t prepared for was handling Asperger’s with an emotionally defunct spouse who doesn’t understand when he’s being abusive.”

  “So Justin didn’t help, and I’m assuming things got worse with having a special needs child?”

  “I threw myself into understanding Asperger’s, and the more I learned, the more I saw it in Justin. I now had two emotionally deficient people in my life,” she confessed sadly.

  The quiet of the room lies heavy like a wall between us.

  “So, he’d get upset with something and go off on you and or Dane. Did the police ever come to your house?”

  “Oh yeah. The police were well acquainted with our address.” She chuckles sarcastically and walks back over to her drink sitting on the mantel. She downs it in one long gulp. “You know, it’s really hard to imagine how crazy I must have looked when trying to explain to them what happened. Picture this. I’m battered, bruised, and sometimes bloody when they arrived, but my lunatic husband, with his high-functioning and rather eloquent verbiage, is the one rationally explaining what happened. Of course, it was all one-sided from his perspective. It’s really comical to think about. I looked like the one who needed a white coat and an asylum from being so emotionally distraught.”

  I walk over and wrap my arms around her from behind and shush softly into her ear. Her cold hands cup mine. The ice in her glass vibrates from nervous tremors. I take it from her and set it back on the mantel.

  “I wasn’t there and can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, but you’re free now. I won’t let him hurt you or Dane anymore. I’ll kill him if he comes here.”

  “He won’t come here,” she mutters stoically.

  “How do you know that? Surely he’ll want to see his son.”

  She turns in my arms and swallows hard. “Because I killed him.” Her voice cracks on her words. She slowly lifts her face to mine, and the hard truth of it burns in her eyes.

  I pull her into my arms and press my lips to her skin. My heart pounds hard against my chest, and my throat tightens, making it hard to speak. “Jesus, Neenah. How? What happened?”

  She takes a step back from me and strides to the other side of the room, putting some distance between us. She stares into the side yard at the garden. “I came home from the grocery store, and he was watching porn on TV. He was making Dane sit there and watch it with him. I have no idea what happened before I got there, but thank God I got there when I did. God only knows where his mind was that day.” She swipes at her eyes. She won’t turn around and face me. “He…he’d get these fascinations with things that would eventually become obsessions, and I had no idea where that fascination was going to lead. All I knew was that I wouldn’t allow my son to be abused in that manner. I started yelling at him, shrieking to be honest. I commanded Dane to leave the room, and he ran out of there at the harshness of my voice. Justin went after him though and dragged him back into the room. He threw Dane onto the couch. But before he could sit down himself, I lunged at him. We both fell to the floor. I landed on top of him and just started punching at his chest with all my might, but there was no fight in him. Justin had hit his head on the corner of the end table. He died instantly.”

  She rubs her arms briskly at the memory and turns to face me finally. “Blunt force trauma to the head is what they listed on the coroner’s report. It was reported as a homicide in the official police report.” Her voice is cold and empty.

  The blood drains from my head, and I feel sick. “They arrested you?”

  “Yes, they did,” she says, shivering.

  I grab the throw blanket and wrap it around her. I know how I felt when I got arrested, but everyone in the jail knew me. I think I talked all night long about soccer and sports in general while waiting for my attorney. They were all fascinated by the celebrity locked up with them. Neenah didn’t have that.

  I shuffle her back to the sofa and push her to sit before she falls down. She pats the empty space next to her. “The story isn’t over,” she informs me.

  I do as she asks and take a seat next to her, tucking her back into my side. My arms envelop her securely. “Maggie watched Dane for a few weeks, but then Justin’s sister demanded he be with family, and the courts agreed. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know how to care for his condition. They’d never seen his meltdowns. Then Maggie’s mom became ill, and she left to care for her. I was alone,” she says soberly.

  “God, how I wish I’d have known you. I would’ve been there for you. Every fucking day,” I say truthfully.

  She looks up at me; her sad eyes glimmer with a little bit of warmth from my declaration.

  “Did Maggie know about Justin and what was going on at home?”

  She nods blankly. “I needed her help. I couldn’t do it all alone, so she pointed me to the resources for assistance. Teachers are invaluable.”

  “I agree with you one hundred percent.”

  We sit in silence for an unknown amount of time. Her words spin around in my head. I have a thousand questions but don’t want to bombard her. I never would’ve guessed she was keeping this all inside. That smile fooled me, but that just proves how much we don’t know about what goes on behind closed doors. She kept telling me she had baggage, that she was emotionally unavailable. But I could sense that she needed me. I want to lift her up. I’m drawn to her.

  She shifts deeper into my arms. Her voice is husky with tension. “Maggie is my rock, my hero, and my salvation. She rallied everyone together and pulled together a team of defense attorneys the likes of which I can never repay. Thank God, I don’t have too, because she got them all to take my case pro bono. It took over a year, but the jury set me free after three days of testimony and eight hours of deliberation.”

  Her head tilts, and she rests against my shoulder, releasing one long breath as the ending to the story. My eyes are drawn to her lips. The sudden urge to kiss her is overwhelming.

  “That’s amazing. Maggie is certainly an angel,” I say. Leaning forward, I cup her chin in my hand and press my lips to hers. Slowly at first, gently coaxing her to open up for me, but her hands push on my chest breaking our kiss. I try to hold her tighter against me for reassurance, but she stands and crosses the room.

  “I need you to leave now,” she says with her back to me.

  “Neenah, I’m sorry. I did not mean to push you. I simply wanted you to know I’m here for you.”

  She slowly turns to face me. “Ian, we can’t be together like that. My past will ruin your career. You have sponsors and endorsements and thousands of fans who wouldn’t approve of you dating a murderer. We can be friends and neighbors, of course, but that’s all.”

  Tears well up in her beautiful, blue-green eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. She squares her shoulders as I stand, preparing for a showdown, but I won’t fight her. She’s already made up her mind today, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wear her down over time.

  That’s exactly what she needs…time.

  “All right, Neenah. I’ll leave…for now, but please understand this, I’m not giving up. I won’t let you go through this alone. I’ve been here before, and I understand enough of what you’re going through to not rush you. There’s something here between us. A bolt of lightning zings through my body every time we touch. I come alive on the inside, and I think you know that. I think
you feel it too, but you need space and time. I get that. I’ll see you at soccer camp.”

  I take my leave, opening and closing the back door as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Dane. I back out of her driveway and out of her life, for now.

  20

  Neenah

  Not speaking to Ian for the past five days has made them the longest five days of my life. Not even when I was incarcerated did the days seem this lengthy. Our daily schedule within the jail helped me pass the time, but I can only do so many household chores, grocery shopping, and meal prep before I run out of things to do. Dane keeps me busy when he’s home, but he also has summer school.

  I did see Ian on Saturday at our first game, but he was so busy, I don’t think he even realized I was there. He paced the grass in his long shorts and ‘Coach’ t-shirt, looking extremely sexy. His gray eyes would flash when the whistle blew against one of our players, but he took it all in stride. We won 5-4. I swear all five of those goals were purely luck, but a W is a W when you’re inexperienced. Thank God the news didn’t show up to hound him.

  Today is soccer camp and another chance to see Ian since my rather lengthy confession. I take them day-by-day. It seems to be a good working strategy so far. Although, I barely slept last night, and now my stomach is in knots. So, I came downstairs early to make Dane a good breakfast. I’ve been practicing my egg poaching and think I’ve finally got it right.

  My phone rings and brings me back to the present from my wandering thoughts. Maggie’s number pops up on my screen, so I roll the green arrow upward. “Hola, Profesora. Como estas?”

  “Ha, ha, ha.” She laughs out loud. “Estoy bien, gracias. Y como estas?”

  “I’m well. We’re both doing well. Are you calling to check up on me?”

  “I am. Ever since your call the other morning, you’ve been consuming my thoughts,” she says hesitantly.

  “I’m so sorry about that. Please don’t worry about me. I’m going to get through this, just like I have everything else. I’m a survivor, and I won’t accept anything less than what I feel I deserve.”

  “Wow, I love the new attitude,” she exclaims into the phone.

  “I’ve put down my romance books— not permanently but for now at least—and have picked up a few new vocabulary words like positivity and empowerment. I’ve also discovered the power of Tony Robbins on YouTube. This has been my world for the last few days. I’m determined to build one that I enjoy being in. And for those who want to join me in this new world, they’re going to have to pass a test.”

  “A test? Well, let me get out my number two pencil and sharpen it then,” she volleys back at me.

  God, I love her so much. She’s the perfect friend.

  “Don’t worry. You passed the test many years ago. You’re grandfathered in.”

  “Oh good. That’s a relief because my test-taking skills are a little rusty. I’m glad you’re doing well. I know it’s hard, but like you said, you’re a survivor. Speaking of surviving, how’s work going?”

  “Actually, it’s my book cover work that’s saving me. I opened up my online store to making logos and personalized signatures using a new calligraphy graphics package I got for a great price. After updating my website and sharpening my prices for the market, orders are pouring in. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m contributing to society.”

  “You’ve always contributed to society. It’s just that sometimes society doesn’t appreciate the minute gestures in everyday tasks. You enrich my life on a regular basis. I’m sorry if I never told you that before. We each have a role to play, and in saying that, I’ve been lucky enough to come into contact with some pretty spectacular people. Emma Blaine is one of those people.”

  “And who is Emma Blaine?”

  “She, my dearest friend, is the new me in your life. She’s Dane’s new teacher and also the head of a non-profit organization which provides animals for people with varying disorders. Her latest project is called Animals for Autism, and they’ve just had their first doggy graduates from the Autism Academy,” she explains excitedly.

  Before she can continue, Dane comes thumping down the stairs looking for me. “Mommy?” he hollers.

  “Hold on, Maggie,” I tell her and step into the hallway so he can see me. “Yes, Dane. I’m right here.”

  He walks past me and goes straight to the back door and opens it, like he’s done every day since Ian had dinner with us that first time. “What would you like for breakfast?” I ask before he gives his full attention to cartoons.

  “Eggs in a basket,” he replies and leaves me for SpongeBob.

  “Did he say, ‘eggs in a basket’? Wow. Now, that’s a truly Midwestern breakfast that I haven’t had in a long time.”

  “Yeah, Ian is teaching the kids about proper nutrition before coming to camp or a game. We have eggs in a basket on camp days. We have a game this weekend, so we’ll probably be having it then too. You know Dane and his idiosyncrasies.”

  “That I do. I’ll let you go then, but I’ll text you Emma’s number. She has a dog for Dane and would like to start getting them acquainted before school starts. This is a good thing, Neenah. Please agree to it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll call her. Love you,” I say.

  “Love you too. We’ll talk soon.” She hangs up, and I start boiling water for poached eggs.

  When they’re ready and I have everything plated, I call Dane to the kitchen to eat. He eats slowly, every few minutes looking back over his shoulder at the back door.

  “Dane, honey, please eat. We have to leave for camp soon.” He scoops another bite of his runny eggs up into the bowl of his spoon and continues eating. “Coach Legend is a busy man. You’ll see him soon enough at camp. Besides, he doesn’t want to scare you again with those reporters and protesters. So, he’s going to drive himself.”

  Dane looks up, thinking about what I said. I go with that excuse as Dane would never understand the emotional aspect of what’s been going on between us.

  He finishes his milk and scrambles down off the bench seat, going back into the den to watch his cartoons.

  “Don’t forget you still have to brush your teeth and get dressed. I’m going up to get ready,” I holler to him. I lock the back door, but not before taking a long look outside. It’s dark and gloomy, just like my thoughts. Storm clouds are rolling in from the lake, and any minute it’ll be downpouring.

  My phone buzzes in my hand. It’s a text from Maggie with Emma’s contact details. I’ll call her later. I glance at the time on my phone. Crap, I’ve got to get dressed or we’ll be late.

  “Dane? C’mon. I’ll race you upstairs to brush our teeth.” I check the den to see if he heard me, but he’s not there, and the TV is off. That sneaky little boy. When I get to the bathroom, he’s in there brushing his teeth already. Good. At least I don’t have to harp on him about that like most parents do. Dane has a routine, and he sticks to it, come hell or high water. That’s the upside to Asperger’s.

  When it comes to having a child on the spectrum, you have to accept the wins no matter how small they are.

  At the complex, we pass through the front entrance with no issues this time. They leave a woman and single child alone. Either they’ve forgotten my car and our faces already or they don’t care since Ian isn’t with us. I’m sure it’s the latter of the two.

  When we get inside, Dane’s new friend, Ian, joins us and they start talking about soccer while walking to the field. It makes me happy that he’s made a friend.

  A very pregnant woman comes up to me and extends her hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Amy. Ian’s mom.” She points to the little boy talking to Dane.

  “Ohhhhh, that Ian.” I laugh, shaking her hand in return. “Hi, I’m Neenah. Dane’s mom.”

  She laughs with me when she realizes I instantly thought of Coach Legend.

  “Well, that is who he’s named after. I must admit, I had a huge crush on him in college. I came to every home game and stood outside the
locker rooms just waiting for him to talk to me. Sadly, it never happened.”

  “Never? Well, he’s my neighbor so I’ll see if I can get you an introduction.”

  She rubs her big, swollen belly. “I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it right now. I think we’ll hold off until after this one comes.”

  “Is this your second?” We walk toward the seats and find two cushioned ones a little distance from the players at the end of the field.

  “No, this is my third. Or will be in about a week if all goes well. I have a nine-year old daughter from a previous marriage. Do you have any other children?” She adjusts her body to get more comfortable in the seat.

  I’m not sure she can get comfortable at this stage in her pregnancy. I remember it being impossible to rest the week before Dane came along. And that was without having other children to care for. She must be exhausted.

  “No, Dane is all I can handle. He’s on the spectrum with Asperger’s.”

  The crestfallen look on her face tells me she’s familiar with the disease, but she recovers quickly and smiles at me.

  “We are meant to be friends then. My daughter, Marin, is on the spectrum too,” she says, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “Do you and your husband attend any autism support groups? If you don’t, I can recommend a few. There are some really great ones locally.”

  “Uh, no. I don’t. We’re not from around here. Dane and I are recent transplants from Minnesota.”

  She looks down at my ring finger when I don’t mention my husband and notices it’s bare. Her eyes lock on mine, and I’m flooded with compassion.

  “My husband is deceased.”

  She smiles even more warmly at me. She reminds me of a freshly baked caramel, apple pie with a cinnamon-sugar topping—warm and gooey sweet. I like her.

  “I’m so sorry. Then you really do need a support group. Please come and join me at mine. Please? I’d love to take you.”

 

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