by Lisa Mills
She forked her fingers into her hair, the heels of her hands pressing into her watering eyes. “How did I let it go so far? I never wanted Trevor to experience the abuse we endured.”
Brandon scooted closer, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into a brotherly hug. “You’re not to blame. You didn’t do the hitting.”
“No, but I should have moved out right away or at least stood up to Dad. How could I put my son in that position?”
Brandon shifted back a few inches and waited until she looked him in the eye. “You’ve been conditioned.”
She stared at him, trying to understand. “What are you talking about?”
“You were taught from a very early age that you couldn’t confront him or escape. Your only option was to endure whatever he dished out. He raged and hit us, made us feel helpless, kept us too afraid to challenge him in any way. After years of conditioning like that, it’s hard to change the way you respond.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Danielle fought a sob as the memories welled up, painful memories of blows that damaged body and soul, and rage-filled words that slashed her tender heart to shreds. Brandon understood. Maybe he was the only person in the world who understood because he’d suffered the same abuses.
Brandon rubbed her shoulder gently. “Have you gotten any counseling since you left home?”
“Counseling? I don’t need counseling. I don’t have problems as long as I avoid Dad.”
A gentle smile drifted across his features. “Don’t you?”
She stared at him, pressure building in her chest. “What are you insinuating, Brandon?”
“How many friends do you have, Danielle? How many people do you trust enough to share your heart?”
Thick silence pressed through the room. When she found her voice, her answer came out papery thin. “None, really. I have one friend in Florida, but I’ve never had the courage to tell her everything.”
Brandon nodded. “And how well would you say you handle conflict?”
She remembered Mr. Hartog, humiliating her at every turn, and cheating her out of her pay in the end. Through it all, she’d shied from the conflict, didn’t feel able to truly stand up for herself. “Not that well.”
“Those are pretty normal answers for people who were abused like we were. Is that kind of life working for you?”
Her eyes burned. “Not really. I’m not at peace. Not happy.” She swallowed hard against the swirling uneasiness in her stomach. “But I thought—well, it’s just who I am.”
“Maybe for now. But you don’t have to stay that way the rest of your life.”
The statement reached out to her, extending hope, an offer of reprieve from the prison bars that held her heart and mind captive. “So you went to counseling?”
“Changed my life. I learned what healthy relationships look like. Learned to trust.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It is.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Would you consider seeing someone?”
Her terse laugh held a hint of mockery. “I can’t get away from the hospital. And I don’t have the money to pay for counseling sessions anyway.”
“There’re probably services available at the hospital. Maybe the chaplain.”
The muscles in her back went stiff. She shrugged his arm off her shoulders. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“What? What did I say?”
“I’m not talking to a chaplain, Brandon. Or a pastor, or a priest or anyone else involved with organized religion.”
He was silent a moment. “I take it you have something against God-fearing people?”
She stood to pace the room. “After the way we were raised? Yes. From what I’ve seen, religion is just an excuse people use to justify hurting each other.”
“How so?”
She looked over her shoulder, mid-pace, and flashed him a don’t-play-dumb-with-me look. “Every time Dad flew into a rage, he’d spout scriptures while he whipped me. When he found out I was pregnant, I got a sermon and a beating before he threw me out. Religion has always been a bludgeon used to beat me down and keep me in line. Why would I want to embrace a belief system like that?”
He exhaled hard, his chest deflating. “I don’t blame you, Sis. I felt the same way for a long time.”
She turned to face him, hands on hips. “But not now?”
He shrugged. “Dad’s always been so devoted to the church, talking about living right and following God while at the same time raging at us and swinging his fists. He abused us and called it discipline. We were kids, so we didn’t know any different. But now we’re adults, and I think we can agree that Dad has a problem. Dad does. Not God. Not religion.”
“Sorry,” she said snidely. “I don’t see much difference between the three.”
Brandon leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Danielle, think about how much you love Trevor.”
An image of her son’s face, sweetened with a smile, flashed through her mind. He was precious to her, the best thing in her life without a doubt. As she thought of him, warmth filled her breast, and she ached to cuddle him against her and smother him with kisses.
Brandon’s voice interrupted her maternal thoughts. “Now think about what it would take—how miserable you would have to be inside—to scream abuses at him and beat him to the floor over some little mistake. Would you shove him down the stairs for moving too slow, or punch him in the mouth because you didn’t like his tone? Only a truly tortured soul could do those things to an innocent child. Dad must be living with incredible pain inside himself to do the things he’s done to us.”
The sweet image of Trevor disintegrated as fire shot through her gut. She whirled to face her brother. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for Dad? He’s the victim here. Is that what you’re saying, Brandon?”
“No.” Brandon pushed to his feet and came to stand in front of her. He reached out, placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes. “You’re supposed to understand that God isn’t like that. Dad is not God, and his actions weren’t sanctioned by God. You are supposed to understand that you never deserved to be treated that way. Put the responsibility where it belongs. Quit punishing yourself for what happened. If you want a better future, deal with the past so it no longer poisons the present.”
She pressed her eyes shut against the pain. “I don’t know how.”
Brandon’s arms came around her, protective and tender, the kind of touch she’d seldom known in her life. “God is love,” he whispered. “He’s gentle and kind and patient. And when you find that kind of love, you’ll find strength, healing, and the way to a better life. Just hang in there, Sis. Trust Him. Ask for His help. He’ll show you He cares if you give Him a chance to work.”
The picture he painted sounded so enticing—someone who would love her, guide her, be with her in the impossibly lonely times. She had wanted to have that kind of relationship with her parents, with Kevin. She ached to belong somewhere, to someone.
Her heart tugged in her chest, as if reaching to grasp hold of the hope Brandon was presenting. She wanted to believe, to have faith in something beyond herself. She was so tired of trying to get by on her own strength. But the taint of the past rose up like a wall in her soul and blocked her from taking hold.
She buried her face in his chest and curled her fingers around handfuls of his shirt, anchoring herself to him while a storm raged inside. “I want to believe, Brandon. But I’m so afraid of getting let down or hurt again.” Sobs broke through her pinched throat and shook her shoulders.
“Give it time. You’ll know when you’re ready, and He’ll be waiting.” Brandon held her and let her soak the front of his shirt with her tears. “And if crying helps, feel free to slobber on my shoulder anytime.”
She lifted her head and found him smiling down at her with the mischievous grin she remembered so well from their youth. “Oh, Brandon.” Laughing through her tears, she gave him a playful smack, then
snatched a tissue off the end table and cleaned her face.
He led her to the couch and they sat down again. “Listen, Danielle, there’s a book that helped me a lot. If you want to read it, I’d be happy to loan it to you. And if you ever need an ear, I’m here for you. And Sarah too. She’s walked through part of this healing process with me, so she’ll understand.”
She wadded the tissue and held it tight in her fist. “Thanks, Brandon. For taking us in and for listening. I’ll … I’ll think about what you said, okay? I can’t promise anything else, but I want you to know that I appreciate you trying to help.”
He shrugged as if to say “That’s what brothers are for.” Grabbing the remote, he clicked on the television. They fell silent as the football teams ran onto the field and a kickoff started the second half. At the next commercial break, he turned down the volume. “While we’re talking, you want to give me the story on this guy Kevin? Seems to be some tension between the two of you.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Would that be romantic tension?”
She picked up a throw pillow and whacked him a good one. “Now you’re just being nosy and obnoxious, little brother. Don’t push it.”
Brandon laughed and shoved the pillow back at her. “Fine.” He stared at the television, his smile growing wider. “I’ll just get the story from Kevin.”
She growled and hit him with the pillow again.
~ ~ ~
Danielle saw the pickup turn into the driveway and rushed to prop the door open for the guys. Brandon had offered to retrieve the rest of her things from her parent’s house, her desk and computer and a small file cabinet. Seeing her possessions in the back of the truck bed brought a surge of relief.
Moments later, Brandon clumped through the door carrying her flat-screen monitor. Kevin followed close behind with her computer tower.
“We’ll carry everything down to the rec room and set it up for you.” Brandon turned down the stairwell to the basement. Kevin nodded at her in greeting then followed her brother down the steps.
A teary feeling welled up in her chest and threatened to start her crying again. Ever since yesterday’s incident with her father, she’d been trying to stay three tears ahead of a crying jag. Kevin’s behavior was making it harder to maintain composure.
He’d shown up after lunch to ask how she was doing, quiet concern radiating from his warm brown eyes. She wanted to tell him that it was none of his business, that she wanted to be left alone, but the truth was, she didn’t. It was a comfort to have someone care how she was handling a tough situation. Seeing how he’d shown her so much undeserved kindness in the last few days, she didn’t have the heart to push him away when he rang the bell. Instead, she invited him in and then asked if he’d help Brandon retrieve the last of her things from her parents’ house.
He’d agreed without hesitation.
He was making it hard to stay mad at him. Even harder to keep her heart at a distance. Somehow, gentleness and patience were effective means to infiltrate the walls she’d built around her heart. Like water, they could slip through the cracks in her defenses, and before she knew it, he’d become a larger part of her life than she’d meant to let happen. And that scared her.
While she sat in the living room pondering her conundrum, the men made two more trips and had everything set up for her. They clumped up the stairs talking about the football games that would be on that afternoon, planning what to watch and who they’d cheer for.
Brandon smiled at her when they emerged into the living room. “All done, Sis. You can fire up your hard drive and put ‘er to use anytime.”
She looked from Brandon to Kevin, then back again. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.”
“No prob.” Brandon inched toward the door to the kitchen. “Hey, Kevin? Sarah and I were going to grill burgers in a little while. Why don’t you hang around and eat with us?”
Kevin broke into a smile. “Sounds good. Think I’ll do that.”
“Great. I’ll find Sarah and see if she’s done in the garden.”
“Hey, send Trevor in to wash up,” Danielle called to her brother’s back. “He’s probably filthy from helping her.”
“Sure thing.” Brandon winked and ducked out of the room, stranding Danielle with the last person she wanted to spend time alone with. She stared at Kevin, tightness forming in her gut and spreading up through her chest. She’d been so ugly to him at the hospital, and he’d repaid her by rescuing her from her father and making sure she got resettled at Brandon’s. She didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t you want to go find Trevor?” she asked quietly.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and studied her. “Do you mind if I stay here with you?” His voice was warm and friendly, turning her insides to jelly.
She bit her lip to keep herself from falling completely under his spell. “Suit yourself.”
He didn’t react to her disinterested tone. He just stood there, watching her, waiting, like he was content to be there in her presence no matter how she treated him.
The tightness in her chest spread up her throat. “Uh, thanks for helping with my stuff,” she stammered.
“It’s a nice set-up you have.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”
His eyebrows raised. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s not that. I just wasn’t thinking about mobility when I bought it. Now that I’m at the hospital all the time, I can’t really use it.”
“So, a laptop would be more convenient?”
She forced a laugh. “Yep, but more expensive.”
He smiled, giving his dimple a reason to make an appearance. “Oh, there was some mail for you.” Kevin pulled a stack of letters from his back pocket and handed them to her.
“Thanks.” She reached for them just as he thrust them toward her. Their hands bumped together, and heat shot up her arm. Their eyes met again. The room seemed to grow warmer, the atmosphere more intimate.
He was the first to break eye contact. Stepping to the seating area, he flopped into the recliner and grabbed the remote. “Care if I watch football?”
“Whatever.” She sat down on the couch and slid her finger under the flap of the first letter. The envelope yielded a bill for her insurance premium. Did she have enough left in savings to cover it? Trevor’s medications had hit her cash reserve hard. She had to figure out some way to bring in a steady income because they could not afford to lose their insurance coverage, pathetic as it was.
The next letter was worse. The hospital in Florida had sold the debt she owed them for Trevor’s care to a finance company. The new loan came with an interest rate of eighteen percent and a seven hundred dollar minimum monthly payment. She groaned and dropped the statement on the coffee table. She was certain she didn’t have the money to pay that one.
Digging through the stack for something less depressing, she found a letter with Janna’s return address on it. Smiling, she tugged the letter from the envelope. When she unfolded the stationary, two checks tumbled out and fluttered to her lap. She picked them up and clutched them in her hand while she read.
The garage sale was a big success and the consignment shop found homes for the pieces you placed with them. Hope this money comes in handy. Cory and I miss you two. Let us know if you have news to report.
Janna
Danielle looked at the amounts on the checks and did the math quickly in her head. “Nine hundred forty-seven,” she said grinning. She could pay the insurance premium, maybe send a partial payment on the Florida debt, and if she was careful, she could make the rest stretch a while.
“Did you say something?”
Danielle glanced up and found Kevin watching her.
She waved the checks. “My friend Janna from Florida had a garage sale, and she helped me sell some stuff in a consignment place. She sent the proceeds.”
“So what are you going to do with the money? Have some fun?”
She rolled her eyes and forced a laugh. “Oh yea
h, it’s a lot of fun paying insurance premiums and hospital bills.”
His smile faded to a thoughtful expression. “I’ve never asked you about the cost of Trevor’s treatment. Is it expensive?”
She grabbed the Florida hospital debt off the coffee table and flicked it at him. “See for yourself.”
He caught it and unfolded the paper, scanning to the bottom. She knew the second he saw the total because his eyes widened and his face went white. “This much?”
“That’s just the percentage my insurance didn’t cover in Florida. There’s more from the hospital here, and I pay on the spot for the medications that he takes to help with nausea and other stuff.”
He stared at the bill, a frown forming on his brow. “I didn’t know.”
She felt a surge of satisfaction at his reaction. “Welcome to reality, Kevin. Being a parent is about more than just having fun and playing games with your kid.” She smirked at him. “But then you wouldn’t know that because you haven’t been around.”
Hurt flashed across his face. He lowered his eyes. “You’re right.”
“I know I’m right. There’s only one person in this room who knows what being a parent is really like, and it isn’t you. Don’t think for a minute that showing up at the hospital at night and spending a few hours entertaining Trevor even begins to qualify you to be his father. There’s a lot more to the job, and some of it isn’t at all pleasant.”
He sat, eyes downcast, letting her have her say without argument.
A well of fire ignited in her gut. Meekness wasn’t the reaction she wanted from him. She wanted to provoke him. She wanted him to get defensive and justify himself so that she could tell him to leave. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with this feeling that swirled through her every time he came near. The attraction she felt and the fear of getting hurt again wouldn’t plague every minute of her day. His refusal to respond, to even show a hint of defiance, made her want to scream or throw something.