He quickly spoke of the force of impact that incurred and the injuries sustained. The fact that pierced my heart finally came—the driver, Leann Archer, was killed within moments of the crash. My mother didn’t have a chance. That statement was the last thing I remember him saying before Chase and I walked up to the board table for our turn to speak.
Chase and I had each other, and that was it—us against them. My eyes searched for a familiar face, but I found none. Each face to the next was just like the other—cold. My eyes fell as I sat down at the table. They would never understand. Frowning, I looked up to see the robot I would be sitting across from, but I froze when I saw the eyes that settled on me. I didn’t find a cold face looking back at me at all. My eyes were locked with the dark brown eyes of a man who was studying me just as much as I was him. His eyes weren’t empty at all. They were intriguing and understanding. He looked a bit older than me—maybe in his thirties, but that wasn’t surprising. Anyone sitting at this table had years of work experience and education for this type of career. They wouldn’t just hire anyone right out of college like me to make serious decisions like this at a parole hearing. These people had all of our lives in their hands.
He was beautiful, and I couldn’t pull away from him. His dark hair was just long enough to lay back, and I imagined running my fingers through it. My eyes shifted to his tightened jawline. He watched me studying him. Sitting up straighter in my chair, I couldn’t help but scratch at my neck. Silently, I cursed my dumb nervous rash.
As we waited for direction from someone at the table, my attention kept falling back to him. I wondered if he was starting to notice. He was looking nervously at me as he stretched in his chair. Clearing his throat, he flipped open the file folder in front of him. That didn’t stop me from looking at him, though. I could see the muscle of his broad shoulders through his white dress shirt and his royal blue tie neatly tied around his perfect neck. His sleeves were rolled up on his large forearms which were confirmation to his strong build. My heart raced, and the chill left my body. He was a nice escape from the sadness that was overtaking me. He was the distraction that I needed.
Chase’s voice was enough to snap me back to the harsh reality we were living. As his words filled the room, I don’t cry… yet. He shared the kindness, compassion, and integrity they showed us every day. I was proud of him and hoped I had as much strength when it was my turn to speak. His words turned to a more painful tone as he spoke of his daughters. I could feel the lump settling in my throat. They missed their grandmother so much that it hurt me. Five-year-old Madison was my mother’s first grandchild. She truly lived up to that title because my parents spoiled her rotten. Madison’s long curly blonde hair and blue eyes reminded my mother of Chase, so she had an instant connection to her. Madie is smart as a whip and loved the candy and sweets my mother always showered on her. However, she wasn’t the only grandchild for long because Allison arrived eighteen months later. Allison was more of the wild child. Her red hair and green eyes made her stand out, or maybe it was her quick temper. She quickly became attached to my father, and in her Pop’s eyes, she could do no wrong. They both became my mother’s obsession, and she watched them every day for Chase and Delilah while they worked. It was hard on my mother when they both started preschool, and she only saw them a few days a week. This man robbed these two precious little girls of a grandmother who loved them dearly.
My focus shifted as Chase said my father’s name, Fred Archer—a man who works hard and taught me never to quit. He loved his wife more than he loved himself and would never pass up an opportunity to travel with our mother. He wanted her to see the world with him. When they met, she knew our father had a free spirit with a gypsy soul, but he settled down for her. My father’s heart was ripped from his chest when he lost his wife that night, and he couldn’t understand why God spared his.
His words ended, and I knew it was my turn. My tongue was almost tied, but I started. Taking my time on each word from my paper, I spoke slowly so I wouldn’t get overwhelmed. It wasn’t out of fear of forgetting what to say but to have a focus point so I wouldn’t crash again. I made the mistake of looking back up at the man who had become my distraction. My words halted when I saw his eyes staring back at me because I saw pain in his eyes. Was it possible a handsome stranger knew exactly what I was feeling? I wasn’t sure, but I began anyway.
The story of my life wasn’t what I wanted to tell, but the admiration I have for my parents was what I hoped they’d hear.
The week before my mother’s death, it was such a high in my life. We were celebrating my graduation from college and my big move to the city to start my career as a teacher. It wasn’t just a celebration for me, but a new beginning for them. My parents had their lives back together, alone, and it was the start of their own adventure. Wow, what a feeling to have all of their children proudly out of the nest, but that joy was quickly ripped from them. A man, if that’s what you call him, decided to make a selfish decision to drive intoxicated and right into my parent’s car, right into their lives and stealing everything away from them. My family and I are now living a life sentence from this man’s mistake, as he calls it. But was it a mistake? A mistake is forgetting your homework. This so-called mistake felt permanent, and there was nothing that could truly fix it. I placed my paper down on the table in front of me as I looked at each person, my eyes holding a bit longer on my distraction. My voice grew confident.
“This can’t be fixed. There’s nothing we can say or do that will bring my mother back to us, but what I ask each of you is this—do you think that one year is enough time to understand the severity of the life sentence we were given as a family?” Taking a breath, I continued. “Does he understand what he took from us, and most importantly, from my father?” Tears streamed down my flushed cheeks.
“My mother wasn’t given a second chance at life like he will be given. So I ask you to please deny this man’s parole, and please grant him more time to understand the pain, struggles, and despair he placed upon us.” I shift my eyes to the monster for a second before turning back to the table.
“Please allow him more time to get the help he needs, so he will never rip a life away from another family again.” There was silence in the room.
The weakest smile came to my face as I finished. I was done, but I couldn’t feel relief just yet. I rubbed my neck to calm my nerves, but I could feel his eyes on me. The nice distraction was pulling my attention to him again. Nervously, I bit my lip and looked into his eyes. I felt brave. He was staring directly at me, and he didn’t move when I caught him. I find myself playing with the charm on my necklace. He gave me a brief nod, and I smiled. Warmth took over my body as I watched him lick his bottom lip. Playing with the top of his pen, his eyes fell to the paper in front of him. Selfishly, I wanted a few more moments of him watching me. Did he realize he was the distraction I craved? The commissioner’s voice was now the only thing familiar to me in this place. He thanked everyone for their patience and that they would need a moment to discuss. Chase and I walked back to our cold metal chairs and sat down.
“This is it.” I grabbed his arm for strength.
Watching each person, every expression, I even tried to read lips, but I couldn’t get a feel for what they would decide. My distraction was now talking to everyone at the table and shaking his head. I couldn’t hear anything being discussed, but I wished I could. His face became red, and he flipped his book closed. If this monster were let loose, it would be my fault because I didn’t try hard enough. The commissioner immediately presented a paper for everyone at the table. They each wrote something on it and returned it to him. It only took a few minutes. My head was spinning with curiosity, hope, and fear. Was the wait over? Taking a deep breath, I looked at Chase.
“Please,” I whispered.
Chase nodded in return. As the commissioner went over the entire specifics of the case again, he had a stern tone in his voice that wasn’t there before. But my heart instantly
skipped a beat as I heard the words I’d been waiting for. The words that could help me move forward.
“No parole granted in this case.” I grabbed my mouth to silence my cry.
“Chase, did I hear him right?” I asked through a sharp intake of breath. “No parole granted?” I asked.
Chase grabbed my hand. “Yes, we did it.”
I wanted to jump up and scream for myself, for Chase, my dad, the girls, but most importantly, for her.
“We did it, Mom,” I whispered to myself. My face felt flush as I continued to listen to the commissioner.
He told everyone that Thomas Bowles was to serve the remainder of the six-year sentence given for vehicular manslaughter in this case. My emotions overcame me, and I grabbed Chase around the neck as I cried tears of joy, pain, and hope.
“We did it. We did it together,” I said clutching Chase’s arm.
The monster was hanging his head, and his family began sobbing for him. My first thought was good, I hope they feel pain, but my heart realized that was wrong. They didn’t do this, he did. He caused this pain for them as well, and they’re suffering from this monster’s reckless decision too. I looked around in shock that we actually won. He will be stuck here for a bit longer. Chase started gathering his things, and I realized it was finally time to leave this room, the room I never wanted to be in again. It’s ironic that part of me wanted to stay and selfishly look at my distraction for a bit longer. Looking back at the commissioner’s table to get one last look, my smile faded because my distraction was gone. Why did he leave so soon after? I wanted to thank everyone. I thought I could speak to everyone at the table, but they were all gone.
“Are you ready?” Chase asked. “Let’s go call Dad... he will be happy to hear the news,” he added.
I shook off the sad reminder that this was their regular job, and we were just another case number and painful face for them to look at. They wouldn’t remember us by tomorrow.
On the drive back, we couldn’t shut up about every detail of the hearing. We were on a huge high from our victory, the painful struggles this past year feeling easier at this moment. In a week, it would be the anniversary of her death, and with that, it will bring another damper of hope, but for now, we were happy.
Chase tossed me his phone. “I think Dad will want to hear it from you, so call him.”
I swallowed hard and took the phone. He answered on the first ring because he had been waiting.
“Dad, he was denied. We got him denied!” I screamed.
A cry came from my father that sounded first of pain but became cheerful because he was proud of us. He struggled with his decision to sit this one out. He wasn’t sure what he wanted because it would never bring her back. But I could tell, at this moment, he felt relief.
“I knew you kids could do it. You both have more strength than I have, and I’m thankful you could be that for me. Your mother is smiling down on the two of you.” He sounded relaxed.
“Thanks, Dad. We love you, and we’re always here for you,” I reassured him.
My dad was a strong man and didn’t show his emotional side much. However, this had taken a toll on him. His hair had completely grayed during the past year without my mother, but he was still the man I always looked up to. Handsome, he had the brightest blue eyes, too. I’ve been missing him and needed to remind myself to make a trip back home soon to see him.
I ended the call just as Chase pulled into my parking garage. We sat in silence for a few seconds, but I quickly hugged him goodbye before he drove off. He was so excited to tell Delilah the good news just as I was to tell Mariella.
Taking the elevator to the fifth floor felt like forever, but as soon as it opened, I ran down my hall to share the good news. She had to be up by now, and I couldn’t wait to tell her. Opening the door as fast as I could, I spotted her standing in the kitchen. She had a day off from her normal full workday of taking photographs of newborn babies, engaged couples, and weddings. She is the most talented photographer in my eyes. She loved catching the truth of a candid shot. Our apartment’s filled with photos of us from childhood to now. Many photos capturing our nights out or the spur of the moment day trips we took to cure our boredom. We both have more than enough time now to share with each other since we’re living the single life together once again. Mariella had never been the type to keep a guy around for too long. She was too independent and got bored easily. I loved having someone, but it had been a year since my last relationship ended just before I graduated college. He was off to another state for the job he had lined up, and I wasn’t the type to cut my dreams to follow his.
Throwing my bag down on the table, I ran over to her. She looked surprised to see me running toward her.
“Adi?” She screamed as she threw the peanut butter knife she was holding down on the counter and caught me before I crashed into her.
Excitement overcame me, so I started kissing her all over her face as she screamed in laughter.
“What is wrong with you woman?” she asked.
“I love you. You know that?” I smiled.
“Yes, but what’s going on?” She shook her head in confusion.
“But I kept a secret from you.” I frowned.
She frowned back at me. “What?”
“The parole hearing was today.” I laid my hands on her shoulders as she gasped.
“But I didn’t want you to worry about me, so that’s why I didn’t say anything about it.” Her face went stone as she listened to me.
“Adi, what happened?” she asked.
I quickly interrupted her. “He got denied, Ella!” My face flushed, and I smiled.
She didn’t need to say anything. She just grabbed me, and we held each other. We laughed, cried, and then ate toasted peanut butter sandwiches—our favorite snack our mother’s used to make for us. She nodded as I told her the details, and I could tell she was carefully absorbing all the chaos of my day. I left out the details of my handsome distraction even though I couldn’t forget him.
“We should go out tonight, you know, to celebrate,” she said as she wiped down the counter.
“Tonight?” I asked awkwardly.
I wasn’t into going out much the past year. It was just the thought of being around drunk people that made me annoyed and cautious. After telling her no twice, I finally caved in and decided I needed a night out.
“Fine, but I’m not sure how long I’ll want to stay.” Truthfully, my body felt run down.
“I promise you’ll have an amazing time. After all, you’ll be with me.” She winked.
“If you say so.” I yawned. My body’s way of telling me I needed a nap.
CHAPTER THREE
The soft knocks at my bedroom door tore me from my peaceful sleep. “Adi, you need to start getting ready if we’re going out—and we are, just so you know...so no changing your mind.” Her voice sounded too cheerful, and it annoyed me.
I got up but only to open the door to throw a pillow in her face. “I’m up!” I said as I slammed the door. The water from the shower felt refreshing now, unlike this morning. Taking in the warmth of the steam, it relaxed me. Mariella was singing in her room as she got ready. It wasn’t hard to hear her since we shared a connected bathroom to our bedrooms. A true New York apartment was to squeeze everything essential into the tightest space possible. We loved it. Scrubbing my skin hard with my body wash, I washed away the worry and fear of earlier.
“Ugh, I have nothing to wear.” I cursed.
Flipping through the hangers in my closet, I was even more annoyed I couldn’t borrow something from Mariella. I loved her style. She was so up to date with her fashion, and I wished my closet looked as full as hers, jealous I was never able to share her clothes. Her body was definitely more curvy than mine, her breasts a full D cup and mine just made it into a C. Looking at myself in the mirror, I turned to see my ass, which was quite full on my petite frame. Thankful for the spinning classes I never missed, I could definitely see the results co
ming in. Pulling on my new black skinny jeans, I decided on a white tank with a short fitted royal blue blazer. I was drawn to the blue as it reminded me of my handsome distraction’s neck tie from earlier. Looking in the mirror, I tried on a flat shoe and a black peep toe heel to see which one looked better. Definitely the heel. Spinning in front of the mirror, I looked good and felt good too. My fingers touched my chest where my gold necklace with my mother’s L initial charm laid against me. As my thumb rubbed against the engraved L, I thought about her. I haven’t taken it off since the moment I had to remove it from her neck. I shook my head to erase the memory of the last time I saw her—she was lifeless. I shrugged it off because that’s not what she would want me to remember about her. My thoughts drifted to better days, her smile, laugh, and the way she would touch her necklace nervously when my dad would flirt with her. It was the cutest display of adoration between them. This necklace had become my comfort and my balance in this new life I was given. I sprayed the waves in my hair and let them grace my shoulders.
“Let’s do this,” I whispered.
The club was overcrowded, loud, and we could barely have a conversation with each other. I was already annoyed. Cautiously, I sipped on my one drink I’d been nursing since we first got here. Mixing alcohol with my chaotic day wasn’t a good idea. I don’t know how many drinks Mariella had in the past hour from all the guys throwing themselves at her. I politely turned them down. I wasn’t in the mood to flirt tonight. Looking at her dance around our table, I’d say she was feeling pretty good.
“Having fun?” I asked as I watched her twirl around the chair while holding her drink with her two fingers.
“Yes, you should be too.” She held her drink up and took a big gulp.
The music switched to Justin Timberlake’s ‘Pusher Girl.’
Mariella’s mouth flew open as she pointed at me. “Your song,” she yelled. I couldn’t help but laugh at her as she sang along.
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