“I’m so sorry, Ms. McGinty. Your body is going to heal, but it’s going to take longer for your mind and heart. Like I said, Sergeant Bradshaw can help with rehab on your shoulder if you need it and I’m putting in a request for a rape counselor to come speak with you. Your body will just need to heal and that’s going to take some time.” I hear the stool roll back as the doctor stands and walks over to me. “We’re going to keep you on a steady dose of pain medication for the next few days and then we’ll try to start taking it away so we can get a true measure of your pain level, but I don’t want to do that to you for now. I’ll come back and see you tomorrow.” Another nurse comes in and tells us my family is here and they’re asking how much longer until they can see me. The doctor squeezes my arm. “You ready?” When I nod yes he tells the nurse to let my family in as they all start to leave. I look back to Max and he smiles. “I’ll come back and see you tomorrow too if you want. It’ll still be a while before you can leave, but I’ll come by and check on you,” he says. “Thank you. Yes, please.” I don’t understand the attachment but I don’t want to let go of his hand. But my family comes in and he steps back. My eyes follow him as he walks backwards towards the door, keeping our eyes locked. Right before he opens the door to leave, he gives me a weak smile. He’s hurting for me, but why?
Chapter 15
For the next week or so I stay pretty medicated. I guess I sleep a lot because I don’t remember much except for my family being near—I feel their presence and hear their voices. On what I guess to be the fourth or fifth day, my haze starts to lift as the doctor is weaning me off the pain medication they’ve been giving me through my IV. Now that the swelling in my throat has gone down, the nurse brings me pain medicine in pills that I can swallow and it’s not as strong.
The nurses remove my IV tubing but keep a catheter in my arm just in case. They don’t want to have to keep sticking me if they need to give me a shot or draw more blood. But today the nurses are going to start me on light food and are allowing me to shower, and my sister has come up to help. She’s brought me some clothes; yoga pants, a t-shirt, and my favorite hoodie along with panties. Up until yesterday, I’d had a catheter and couldn’t wear panties. It was not a nice feeling, but last night it was removed and I was allowed to get out of bed with assistance and walk to the bathroom and use the toilet.
On this day, Abigail sets up a stool in the shower stall and turns the water on to warm. She grabs a tote that she’s loaded down with my favorite cucumber melon body wash and Aussie shampoo and conditioner. I’m so embarrassed my family has to do this for me. I keep a towel wrapped around myself in the shower while she leans in and washes and conditions my hair. My shoulder is still sore and my arms weak. When it’s time to wash my body, she gives me privacy. She hands me the body wash, a washcloth and disposable razor and closes the curtain. She’s thought of everything. I let the wet towel fall to the shower floor and pour the shower gel onto the washcloth and it smells so good. I feel like I’ve smelled like nothing but blood, urine, and antiseptic. It’s like I can’t rid my mouth of a metallic taste.
As I start to wash with the cloth I hit tender spots on my body and I start looking myself over. Like the doctor told me, yellowish bruises are everywhere. I try to concentrate on washing myself and I begin to shave the areas of my body that need shaving. But as the suds wash off, I keep seeing more bruises. I look disgusting and I start to cry. My sister doesn’t look in at me but she shifts the shower curtain enough that I hear her ask if I’m done. I rinse myself one last time and turn off the water. She sticks her hand in, holding a couple of towels. I dry off, wrap up my hair with one towel and my body with the other. She’s left the bathroom to give me privacy, but I see she’s set out my toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, deodorant, some lotions, and my clothes. I go towards the mirror and sink and load my toothbrush with toothpaste. My mouth feels so nasty. I turn on the water and wet it and bring it to my mouth and start brushing when I look up and see the mirror. It’s still foggy from the steam of the shower so I pick up a hand towel to wipe it clear and when I see my reflection, I stare.
My face. I have different shades of light bruising around my face but mostly my eyes. My right eye looks like there’s blood in it and on one side of my face, my chin is still a little swollen and my neck is covered with yellow bruising. You can actually see where his hands were choking me. This is what I look like after days of healing? I can’t fathom what I must have looked like when I first got here. How am I alive? Oh my GOD, my family saw me like this? I’ve hurt them so bad. Shame fills me, and I drop to my knees and cry.
My sister hears me and comes in and pulls me off the floor and turns me towards her, but I refuse to look at her and this makes her mad. “HEY! No, not me. I’m your sister. This is us. Do not turn from me. Look at me, Sissy.” I finally look at her and she has no tears. She’s angry. “We’ll get through this. You are not alone. I am here. We are all here for you and that bastard is going to pay,” she says, and she wipes at my tears.
No one seems to get it. I’m not scared of him—well, I am scared, but I just feel like I’ve let everyone down. I just want to disappear. I hate that my family is going through this and that I brought trouble to their doorstep. “I know. I’m sorry. Let me get dressed and I’ll come out,” I turn away. No matter what, she is still my little sister and I was supposed to be setting an example for her, and I feel like I failed.
I finish brushing my teeth and put on my deodorant. My skin finally feels fresh and clean, even though it looks dirty. I bypass the lotions because I’m starting to tire so I pull on my panties and yoga pants. I start struggling to get on the t-shirt but my arms hurt, so I stop trying and just slip my arms into the sleeves of my hoodie and zip it up. I’m too sore for a bra because of bruising to my chest area. I pull the towel from my hair and pick up my hairbrush and start to brush but my arms won’t let me. I pull open the bathroom door and walk to the bed and sit down while still holding the brush.
My sister has been standing, looking out the window in my room when she sees me and turns and walks over to me. She takes the hairbrush. “Sissy, sit back on the bed.” I scoot back and lift my legs and pull them up Indian-style. She crawls in behind me and starts gently brushing my hair. We sit silently as she gets all the tangles out and then braids it into one long braid that falls across my shoulder. I hear voices coming from the television that runs 24/7 with family in and out watching shows. I had my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of her fixing my hair when I hear my hospital room door slowly open. Thinking it’s family or the nurse, I keep my eyes closed but when my sister stops I hear her say, “Hey, back again, huh? Are you going to stay for a few minutes? I want to run to the store and see about getting some hair bands and a few other things.”
“Yep. Keeping my daily date with Jaycee, and I brought her gifts,” I hear a voice say as it’s getting closer. Max?
As I open my eyes and look over, I see he’s holding several containers of different flavored Jell-O and a couple of cans of 7-Up and it looks like he’s about to drop them all. I reach out, pulling my rolling table closer so he can set them down. When they all fall from his hands onto the table with a couple of the containers of Jell-O falling to the floor, my sister starts to laugh. “Smooth.” She’s picking up her purse to leave the room when she stops and looks at me. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Do you want any magazines from the store?” I shake my head no and lower my head. “Hey, you going to be okay? He will be here. He’s been coming in every day and sitting with you,” she says. What? I pull my head up and look at him and he smiles. “You don’t remember our dates?” I shake my head no. “Well, technically they weren’t dates. I like my dates to be awake and well, you snored most of the time. I kept having to turn the volume up on the television,” he says. I jerk my head to him with my mouth hanging open. Snoring? Oh no, how embarrassing. Did everyone hear me snoring? Abigail starts giggling. “Sissy, he’s joking. I’ll
be back.”
“Okay,” Max and I say at the same time. She looks at us both and smiles as she walks out.
“So, how are you feeling today? You look great,” he says as he starts arranging the Jell-O and sodas and pulls some spoons from the pocket of his scrubs. He bends down to pick up the Jell-O he’s dropped on the floor and hits his head on the edge of the rolling table. I can’t help it. It surprises me and I start to laugh. When he raises back up holding the Jell-O, he looks over at me. “Like that? Well, I meant to do that. Totally meant to do that.” I raise my eyebrows and look at him in question. “I did. Anyway…” he draws that out. “I’m sure you’re hungry and ready for a real meal, so I brought you Jell-O. You have your choices of cherry, lemon, or grape.” When he says grape we both make a face. Gross.
“Can I have the lemon?” I ask. He smiles down at me as he picks one up and pulls back the top. He tears off the plastic around the spoon and hands me both and then opens one of the 7-Ups for me and sets it down. When I reach down to pull up a bite to my mouth I see he’s watching me and I freeze and the Jell-O plops off my spoon onto my lap. Wonderful. I start looking around for a napkin or something to pick it up when he walks off and grabs some napkins from the bathroom and comes and sets them on the table. I take one and reach down and pick up the Jell-O off my lap and when I look back at him he’s smiling, almost laughing.
“Now who’s the smooth one?” He accuses and laughs.
“Well, that’s not fair. With Jell-O, that first bite, there’s always a risk because you don’t know the wiggle factor yet. Once you adjust, you can eat it without the spillage. Clearly, that’s what happened here,” I try reasoning and he laughs.
“Good to know. So it all comes down to the consistency. I’ll remember that,” he says and he grabs a spoon and a cherry Jell-O and heads to the chair. Once he sits, he pulls the lid back and scoops out a bite and starts to bring it to his mouth when the big glob falls off the back of his spoon and into his lap. He sits there for a few seconds, mouth open, spoon up, and looks over at me and then down at his lap. “Well, shit. You’re right,” and he chuckles.
“Told you,” and we both laugh. I hand him some napkins and after he cleans up we return to the challenge of eating our Jell-O. Once I figure out the wiggle factor, I dive into eating it. For the way I’m shoving into my mouth and moaning, you’d think it was a steak or the richest chocolate. To me it is. I haven’t had a bite of food in days. Once I’m done I start looking around the table for more when I realize I’m full. Like, really full. It feels like I did just eat a big steak and had chocolate cake for dessert. This really upsets me and I frown and must look sad, because Max comes over and sits next to me on the edge of my bed facing me.
“Hey, look at me,” and he reaches out for my hand. “Like the doctor told you. Time.”
“It was Jell-O, Max.” I look at his handsome face and see he’s smiling and his dimples are showing. All at once I remember what I looked like in the mirror and try to turn away. For a few minutes, I almost forgot.
“Jayc, please don’t pull back. Move forward. Let yourself start to heal. Laugh and smile. You are beautiful. Always have been. Inside and out. I, and the rest of your family, don’t see what you think we see when we look at you. Please, let us help. Let me help.” He squeezes my hand so I look back to him.
What does he mean, always have been? “Max, do we know each other? Is there something I’m not remembering? Sometimes you say things like you know me and you seem familiar.” He starts to say something when there’s a soft knock at the door and I call for whomever it is to come in. When it opens, I know right off who they are; the police and Sheriff Cullens. Two men wearing suits with badges hooked to their belts start walking towards us. These must be the detectives the doctor told me have been stopping by. They look at me and introduce themselves.
“Ms. McGinty, I’m Captain Walters and this is Sergeant Taylor. And I think you know Sheriff Cullens. I look over and he smiles at me, but I can see he’s upset with how I look. “We’re detectives with SAPD. We’re glad you’re back with us,” they say. Max is now standing by me on the other side of the bed when I hear Sheriff Cullens say, “Good to see you, Blue. How you been?” Max reaches out to shake the sheriff’s hand. “I’m good sir, and you?” As they’re talking, it clicks.
Blue. Maxwell “Blue“ Bradshaw. Oh. My. God.
Chapter 16
Maxwell “Blue” Bradshaw—we went to the same high school, only he was in the same class as Jesse. I was a freshman when he was a senior and he was the school god. All the girls battled for his attention. He was the school’s quarterback and took our school to state his senior year. He got the nickname Blue for a few reasons; The guys’ reason—football. He was the team’s quarterback but he played both offense and defense. Max playing defense was a sight. Block, hit and tackle, and leave his opponents black and blue. The girls’ reason—from the freshman to senior class, he left a trail of broken-hearted girls feeling sad and blue. Everyone’s reason—his car. It was the coolest car ever. It was an old Plymouth Satellite. It was a deep royal blue with racing stripes and cool tires. Everyone in our town knew that blue car and whom it belonged to. That’s how Max became “Blue.”
“How are you feeling today, Jaycee?” Sheriff Cullen asks while stepping around the detectives and coming down and giving me a peck on the cheek. “You scared us all. Your uncle Duke and the rest of your family and I are giving thanks to the Lord you’re okay. I want you to know that Jennings boy is locked up and not going anywhere.” I can’t help but sigh with relief and attempt to smile at the sheriff. “The judge granted him bond but set it a million. He’s had multiple charges against him—murder, attempted murder, assault, and kidnapping to name a few. Even though his family can post his bond, they’re refusing. He’s not going anywhere. We’ve talked with his mom, Lina Jennings, and she told us a bit of what she knows and about an incident a few weeks ago. She wanted me to tell you how sorry she is that she didn’t report that incident.” I lower my head at the memory. She feels that she failed me and I feel like I failed her. He grabs the stool the doctor had used the other day and pulls it close to my bed the same way the doctor did. “I can’t know for sure because she’s not talking about anything except what’s going on with you, but she has a housekeeper, Ms. Lucy White, who reported seeing some verbal abuse by Mrs. Jennings’ husband, Dr. Davis Jennings. She also thinks there may be some physical abuse too but can’t prove anything. Just some marks on Mrs. Jennings that look suspicious and every time she asks Mrs. Jennings about them, she always says she fell, blaming her paralysis.” Was that what she meant when she said she hoped Rocky wouldn’t be like him? Is she a victim of abuse too?
“So, the detectives have some additional information and some questions for you, but I’ve explained to them I don’t want them to overwhelm you and they agree that we’ll take the questions slow. If you need to stop and gather your thoughts at any time, stop. We want to make sure we get the most facts, but correct facts. We talked to the nurses and they explained you’re still on pain meds, so if at any time you don’t clearly remember, say that, and we’ll come back to it, okay?”
“Okay, Sheriff, thank you,” I say. As he stands and steps back, the detectives come forward and one pulls up another chair that had been sitting empty by the door and they both sit down but lean forward.
“Okay, Ms. McGinty, like the sheriff said, slow, okay?” and they both give me a sympathetic smile. “Would you feel more comfortable with Sergeant Bradshaw here, or should he wait outside during the questioning?”
As I start to think about Max “Blue” Bradshaw—high school god, friend of my brothers—hearing all the gory details I start to feel unsure, but before I can make a decision and speak, he does.
“I’ll be staying,” he says, and he sits back down in his chair and stays right at my side and pulls one of my hands into his. Both detectives, the sheriff, and I lo
ok at our intertwined hands and then I look to Max and try to pass him a look to convey that I’m scared for him to hear. He just shakes his head no and gives my hand a gentle squeeze and looks back to the detectives and lifts his chin to them to begin.
I’m not sure about what’s going on. I feel a connection with Max, but quickly remember my feelings last time were very, very wrong. But I let it go and convince myself he’s here for my brothers—to watch over me, nothing more, and I can live with that. I think.
Chapter 17
About ten minutes into questioning, my sister Abigail comes walking back into my hospital room and the talking stops. “Abigail, I can’t…” I can’t do this with her here. She can never hear what really happened. “Sissy, it’s okay. I understand. I’m going to head off now anyway. Dad and Mom are heading up after work and so is Grandma. You’ve been out most of the time but at night everyone comes up to see you.” She walks over and gives me a light hug. “You should charge at the door. You’d make some change. I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow.” She starts for the door. “I love you too. Thank you for everything today,” I say, and we all wait for her to leave. “You’re welcome, and don’t over-do it.” She looks to the police and then gives Max a warning to keep an eye on me. He gives her a slight wave and says, “I got it.”
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