Tough Love

by Marcie Bridges

  It was kind of strange, then, that I didn’t meet Aimee’s grandmother until we’d been friends for almost two years. It was the summer before our junior year when Aimee came bursting in with her signature announcement.

  “Hey. It’s me. Want to come with me to visit Grandma Nancy? It’s only a few miles away.”

  I cleared it with my parents, and we started walking.

  “So, this is your dad’s mother, right?” I asked, double-checking some of the details Aimee had shared with me about her family.

  “Yes, she’s married to Grandpa Earl. They’re the ones I told you about, who are raising two of my cousins.”

  I nodded. “Oh that’s right. And your grandpa is that guy Brendan’s dad.”

  “Yep, he’s the one.”

  “Wait, you don’t think he’ll be there do you?” I still remembered how he had made me feel a couple years ago. I shivered, thinking of his long hair and captivating eyes.

  “He shouldn’t be, no. He lives with two other guys, and they keep him on a pretty short leash. It’s weird if you ask me.”

  When Aimee said that, I remembered how she and her brother talked about Brendan; there were always rumors floating around in the family about him.

  “Aimee,” I ventured. “Do you think he really is gay? Or at least bi-sexual?” I didn’t know anyone who was gay, and the idea was foreign to me.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. I mean, he lives with those two guys, and I’m pretty sure they’re gay.”

  I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. Billy said Brendan thought I was hot. If he really were gay, could he feel anything for a girl? I had no idea.

  I changed the subject.

  “There’s this lady we call Aunt Thelma. She helped raised us when we were little, and she has a cottage on Posey Lake in Michigan. Mom is taking me up on a Sunday, and then she is going to join me on Friday evening. What do you say? Want to come?”

  “Heck, yeah! I would love to do that. I mean, let me check with my mom, but I know she’ll say yes. She thinks you’re a good influence on me,” Aimee teased.

  “Very cool!”

  Grandma’s small backyard was a testament to the family who lived in that house. There were a lot of toys thrown about – a sure sign of children enjoying summertime in Ohio. Behind the pool was a two-car garage that had its back to the yard with just a door for access.

  We opened the gate and then climbed the three steps leading up to the long, rectangular back porch.

  Aimee did not open the door until we were on the porch together. “Grandma Nancy has the air on,” she explained.

  “Oh, okay,” I said with a nod. Everyone understood that you didn’t let out expensive cool air if you could help it.

  And with that, we walked in the back door and stepped into the kitchen.

  The large kitchen was clean, but cluttered. Separating it from the dining room was a breakfast bar, where a woman was sitting with her back to us.

  “Hey, Grandma!” Aimee called out.

  “How do?” the woman answered, as she turned around.

  She and Aimee hugged each other, and then Aimee introduced her to me. “This is my best friend, Janessa. She lives across the street from me. Janessa, this is Grandma Nancy.”

  “How do, Janessa,” Grandma Nancy echoed, a statement this time.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said with a smile.

  “Well, sit down – don’t just stand there. You girls want some iced tea? It’s hot out there.”

  Rather than sitting with me, Aimee pulled two glasses from the cupboard and got some ice while Grandma got the tea from the fridge.

  “Grandma makes the best sweet tea in the world,” Aimee said. “You’ll love it.”

  Before Aimee could shut the door of the freezer, Grandma Nancy called her name.

  “Grab me a pack of cigarettes from the freezer, will you?” she asked. She must have seen the surprised look on my face because she smiled. “Keeps ‘em fresh,” she whispered with a wink.

  As Aimee brought the glasses back to the table, she handed a pack of Alpine Light 100’s to Grandma Nancy. It dawned on me that almost every one of Aimee’s relatives – all but her mom – smoked. And, by smoking herself, she was doing what came naturally.

  “The house is quiet. Where are the girls?” Aimee asked.

  “Oh, they’re at dance. Grandpa will be bringing them home soon. You girls want to stay for supper?”

  Aimee looked at me, and I nodded.

  “We don’t have any other plans,” she answered, laughing.

  I was amazed at how relaxed I was at Grandma Nancy’s house. From the very beginning, it felt like I was one of the family, finding my place and fitting in with every aspect of this fun-loving group. When Aimee and I left that evening, Grandma gave me a hug and kiss and told me to hurry back.

  “See, I told you they would love you!” Aimee said as we walked back to our neighborhood after dinner.

  “You really think so? I like them too – all of them. Hannah and Natalie seem like very sweet girls. I’m glad they made it home in time for supper.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed. “Hey, they usually have a summer recital. Do you wanna come with me? It’ll probably be in a few weeks.”

  “How do you even know you guys are still going to want me around?”

  Aimee smiled.

  “I just know ...”

  Four days later, I was putting away some laundry for my mom when the phone rang.

  “Hey, I really need to talk to you. Can you come over?” Aimee asked.

  “Of course – I’ll be right there.”

  I ran across the street as fast as my short, chubby legs would carry me. I had no idea what she was going to say but I knew it was something bad. Otherwise, she would have just strolled into the house in her usual “it’s me” fashion.

  I opened the door and stepped inside. Aimee was sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette. She took a long drag and let the smoke out slowly. It seemed an eternity before she spoke.

  “I’m going to transfer to Waite,” she said.

  I sighed with relief as I sat next to her. “Oh dear God, is that all? Here I thought someone was dead. Not that we’re just going to be at different high schools.”

  “At least we still live across the street from each other. I can still tell you everything when we get home each day,” I said with a smile. “Oh, by the way I have a babysitting job on Friday night. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Sure, that’s cool. How are we getting there and back?”

  “Mom is going to take me and then Mrs. Hines is going to bring me back home on Saturday afternoon. It’s kind of a double job. I’ll be watching these two little girls on Friday night and then again on Saturday while their mom works and their dad goes fishing. I figured it’d be more fun if you came.”

  Aimee nodded as she took another puff of her cigarette. “Yeah, that does sound like fun. Count me in!”

  “Hey there, Me,” Dad called out when Aimee walked into the house on Friday night. “What brings you over?”

  “I’m going to babysit with Janessa tonight and tomorrow,” she replied as I came bouncing down the stairs.

  “You ready to go? Got your overnight bag?” I asked her.

  “Yep, I’m all set. Where’s Mom?”

  “Oh, you know her, always late. She’ll be down in half an hour,” Dad joked with us. “I’ll see you ladies tomorrow, then. Have fun!”

  As Dad walked out the door, Mom was rounding the corner. We piled into the car and headed off. All three of us were in good spirits, singing with the radio and enjoying the warm June air. Nobody in the car could have predicted the horror that was about to come.

  “Aimee! Aimee, wake up!” I shook her shoulder and whispered her name as loud as I could, hoping the man in the next room could not hear me. “Aimee!”

  “What? Huh? What’s going on?” Aimee struggled to open her eyes in the dimly lit room.

  My voice was urge
nt, yet strained. “We have to go! I need to wake up Mrs. Hines, and she has to take us home right now!”

  Aimee stayed in the living room while I went to wake up Mrs. Hines. She was sleeping alone in their bed; it was about two in the morning.

  “Mrs. Hines, please wake up. I need you to take me home.” I was crying and could no longer hide my shaking voice. She awoke, got dressed and helped us gather our things without a word. She led us out to her car and started to pull out of her driveway, all without asking why I wanted to leave. I was shaking, and my teeth chattered, even though it wasn’t the least bit cold.

  Finally I spoke up.

  “Mrs. Hines, I don’t know how to tell you this, but Mr. Hines did something to me.”

  She stopped at the end of the driveway and dropped her head to the steering wheel. “Oh, Janessa, I am so sorry. I was afraid something like this might happen,” she confessed. “Please tell me everything.”

  Sitting there in her car, I described how the night had progressed; that Aimee was sleeping on the floor and I was on the couch. I remembered hearing them come home, and Mrs. Hines telling Mr. Hines ‘good night’ before she went to their bedroom and shut the door.

  “I must have fallen back asleep after that, because the next thing I remember was the feeling of Mr. Hines’ lips against mine. I turned my head and moaned like I was sleeping, and he went away. But then a couple of minutes later, he was trying to touch my breasts so I rolled away from him.”

  I stopped to take a deep breath. I was crying so hard that it couldn’t have been easy to understand my words through the tears, but I could see Mrs. Hines’ understanding nods in the glow of the clock. Aimee sobbed softly in the backseat.

  “Then I remember hearing him in the kitchen before coming back to where I lay. There were loud breath sounds, and then I felt him rub something warm and wet on my lips.”

  I wept into my hands as I said these last few words, trying not to remember the sensation and the sound of the zipper. Even there in the car, I could still smell the unmistakable tang of sex; the sweet, pungent odor that only semen could produce. It felt like a horrible dream.

  “Janessa, I am so sorry,” Mrs. Hines repeated. “He does this all the time!” She pounded her fists on the steering wheel as tears covered her face, too.

  “And it’s always after we go out together, and we have such a wonderful time. Why does he do this?” Her hands gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline, her knuckles white.

  My breath caught in my throat as I realized what her words meant.

  “He’s done this before?” I asked with disbelief. “He’s done this before and you still allowed me to come to your home and babysit for you?” I was bewildered and confused. But mostly I was angry.

  Mrs. Hines didn’t answer me. She took a deep breath and turned onto the street to drive us home. She didn’t speak again.

  When we pulled up to my house, I collected my things, got out of the car, and slammed the door behind me. Aimee followed.

  There was no way I could go to my house and face my parents, not after what had happened. I went with Aimee to her family’s apartment. The familiar scent of cigarettes and hairspray filled my nose and replaced what I could not forget.

  Aimee took my hand and led me to the spare bedroom. She pulled back the covers, helped me sit down and took my flip-flops. She covered me up and kissed my forehead. The last thing I remember before I fell asleep was her voice telling me it was all going to be okay.

  The next morning, I woke up very confused. The previous night seemed like a dream–-no, a nightmare-–and I was not sure if I had woken up yet. I shuffled my way to the kitchen where Aimee had some coffee ready.

  “Good morning,” Aimee said softly. “I know you aren’t a big coffee drinker, but I thought you might want some today.”

  I nodded and sat down, still exhausted. “I need to tell my mom what happened,” I said as Aimee poured me something to drink. I was crying again. “I need to tell her so that we can protect those two little girls.”

  “The only way to protect them is by pressing charges. Are you sure that’s what you want to do? It might be painful for you.”

  I shook my head vigorously. “I don’t care. It will be more painful if he does something awful against his daughters. This has to stop before one of them gets hurt.”

  Aimee reached for my hand. “Okay, then. I’m with you. Let’s get dressed and go tell Mom.”

  Hand-in-hand, we walked across the street and into my house. My dad was at work, but Mom was in the kitchen making breakfast for my brothers.

  “Wow, you guys are home early,” Mom said as she turned around. I saw the color drain from her face as she realized there were tears spilling from my eyes. “What happened?”

  She ran and embraced me. I hugged her back with my right arm; my left hand was still holding onto Aimee. I broke into uncontrollable sobs. My body was shaking. I couldn’t breathe. When it became obvious to Aimee that I was not able to form words, she answered.

  “Mr. Hines did something to Janessa.” I felt Aimee’s other hand move to wipe silent tears from her own face. “He molested her. He kissed her on the lips and he touched her breasts while she was sleeping.”

  Aimee took a deep breath before she continued. “And she’s pretty sure that he jacked-off and wiped ...”

  Aimee could not finish, but finishing was not necessary. Mom understood.

  My mom took my face in both of her hands, and I could see her eyes searching mine.

  “Are you okay?” I saw the shock and pain in her wide eyes.

  More sobbing. I nodded.

  “Oh, thank God,” Mom said as she drew me back into her hold. “Janessa, did he...did he do more than touch you? Are you hurt in any way?” She looked at me as though searching for any obvious sign of harm.

  I shook my head.

  We sat down and I explained everything: how things had started, and how things had ended. How Mrs. Hines had known.

  “I want to press charges. I need to know that those little girls are going to be safe. I can’t just sit around and do nothing – I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

  “If you’re sure, honey, then that’s what we will do. As soon as Daddy gets home from work, we’ll go to the Wood County Sheriff.”

  I nodded my approval and started to get up, but Mom was still holding my right hand. I looked at her.

  “Janessa, I want you to know that I’m very proud of you. Most people just keep these horrible things a secret. I’m so glad that you trusted me enough to come and tell me.” She began to cry all over again, clutching my hand. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this.”

  I leaned over to give her one last hug before I went to take a shower. The scalding hot water should have been enough to make me feel clean again, but it didn’t. I climbed out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wiped away the steam that had collected on the mirror. My skin was red and splotchy, as if Satan himself had left obscene imprints. I brushed my hair, walked to my bedroom and curled up on my bed. I felt burning tears on my cheeks, but did nothing about them; I did not have the strength to get up for a tissue and closing my eyes didn’t help. It only made the images more clear. I needed something else to concentrate on, something that would help my mind focus on anything but the events that had occurred.

  I began to rock.

  I ROLLED OVER for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. Nate was still up, but it wasn’t the light in the den that kept me awake. I was remembering my relationship with Brendan, replaying each memory. I thought about what I’d learned in therapy and how everything tied in together.

  After the molestation, I was numb. My parents did their best to remind me I had done the right thing, but the trauma left a lasting impression. It was hard for me to exhibit anything other than mistrust and suspicion when it came to men who weren’t my dad or brothers. But then Brendan came along and made me feel again. I was smart and pretty when we were together. I became wanted, need
ed. And when he touched me, I felt sexy, something I’d never felt before.

  The emotions I had throughout the various stages of court were safe with Brendan as well. He was the first person I spoke to after giving my testimony to the grand jury; without judgment, he listened and understood. And when we got word that Mr. Hines had pled guilty, Brendan was the first one I hugged.

  Nate shifted his chair on the hardwood floor, jarring me out the memories for the time being. The alarm clock was showing 12:47.

  “I’ve got to get some sleep,” I whispered to myself, closing my eyes and remembering the night Brendan and I began.

  “I’M PRETTY EXCITED about the recital tonight,” I told Aimee.

  “Yeah, it’s gonna be a blast. The girls have worked really hard.”

  After school, we changed our clothes and refreshed our make-up. We were all set to take the bus to the recital hall, and Grandma Nancy was going to bring us home. Once there, Aimee and I found seats in the center of the auditorium.

  “Hey, there’s Grandma,” Aimee exclaimed. “Wanna go say hi?”

  “Nah, I’ll stay here and save our seats. Tell her I said hello. I’ll talk to her later.”

  “Suit yourself,” Aimee said with a shrug.

  It wasn’t until she walked away that I saw him. He was staring at me with a sly smile across his handsome face. He looked different, but I would have recognized his eyes anywhere. Brendan was sauntering my way.

  I looked down, trying to avoid his gaze. Each time I glanced up, he was a step closer, still taking me in, looking hungry. I dropped my eyes again, knowing that I was prolonging the inevitable. At some point, whether my heart was ready or not, I would have to look at him.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  I raised my eyes before my head came all the way up. Brendan was standing among the row of seats in front of me with his back to the stage. His hair was a bit shorter than the last time I had seen him. He was also dressed in a more respectable fashion: jeans and a button-up shirt. The one thing that hadn’t changed was the way his eyes seemed to take in every inch of me.