“I don’t know what happened to her.” Rhea barely got the words out. “She’s got a scar on her face and one running down her neck. It disappeared under her shirt.”
“She must have gotten into a fight with someone in jail.” Ines sighed and stared out the window, regret and sadness etched on her wrinkled face. “Poor, poor girl.”
“No one ever called to tell us she got hurt.”
“She’s an adult. Unless it was life-or-death, I imagine they wouldn’t call her next of kin.”
The blood drained from Rhea’s face and left her light-headed. She’d never considered that Evangeline would be put in that kind of dire circumstance. She imagined prison life wasn’t easy. It shouldn’t be. You’re there to suffer the consequences of what you did. But she never thought of her daughter in mortal danger.
Maybe that was naïve and stupid. Of course her daughter had been with other criminals, some dangerous even to their fellow inmates. Just because it was a women’s prison didn’t mean it was like a sorority. Women could be as dangerous and vindictive as any man.
Maybe more so in some cases.
“Did she tell you how she got hurt and why?”
“I didn’t ask.” Now her anger had a partner. Guilt. As heavy and burdensome as her grief.
Chapter Four
Evangeline caught some of the conversation between her grandmother and mother. She didn’t owe them an explanation and didn’t want to give them the terrible details. What purpose would that serve? Evangeline wasn’t going to try to gain her mother’s sympathy with sad and disturbing tales of life behind bars. Her mother didn’t need those images in her head. Evangeline would carry the nightmares. She hoped they faded with the new life she wanted to start immediately.
As far as she was concerned, jail and that life were behind her. Where they belonged. Because she never wanted to go back.
She walked into the kitchen, stopped just inside the door, and took in her mother wearing a black dress, her face pale, eyes darkened by lack of sleep and too much worry and grief for one person to carry.
She regretted that she had contributed to her mother’s incensed expression.
Her grandmother hadn’t changed. Same dark hair pulled up in a chic French twist, lips tinted red hinting toward cranberry, dark eyes sparkling with life and love. She was glad they didn’t dim when Nona looked at her.
“Morning. May I have coffee?”
Nona came to her and wrapped her in a hug.
Evangeline jolted with the contact, but Nona’s floral scent brought back a flood of memories from childhood, when she’d run into Nona’s arms every time her grandparents visited. Evangeline held her grandmother close, and for the first time since she arrived felt like she was home.
Which made it impossible to resent Nona for taking her room.
Eyes glassy, she pushed words out of her choked-up throat. “Hi, Nona.”
“I missed you, sweet girl,” she whispered into Evangeline’s ear. “So much.”
Tears pricked Evangeline’s eyes, but she held them back. She’d cried enough last night. She needed to suck it up and get through this day without causing her mother any more concern.
Nona held her by the shoulders at arm’s length and studied her face, including the scar on her cheek. “Did you sleep?”
“Some. I’m not used to the quiet.” Her mind had spun one thread after the next of what happened, what she needed to do, how she’d do it, and on and on.
“Well, things are different now, but you’ll get used to it again. Give it time.” Nona tipped her head toward Evangeline’s mother.
The frosty looks Evangeline had gotten last night hadn’t thawed. She didn’t expect them to until her mom saw that Evangeline had a plan to put her life back on track and go away.
Nona went to the coffeepot, poured Evangeline a mug, and handed it to her. “That dress is lovely on you.”
Evangeline smoothed her hand over the black dress she’d dug out of one of the boxes and hung on the towel bar to steam while she showered. Alone, without guards and other inmates. And for as long as she wanted.
Her mother hadn’t been kidding when she said she’d packed Evangeline’s clothes and thrown out most everything else from her old room.
In the light of a new day, Evangeline realized she didn’t really care.
Memorabilia from her old life only served to remind her of what she’d lost. But the dress reminded her of better, simpler times. She’d bought it for a dinner date on her one-year anniversary with Darren. He’d taken her to dinner at the famed French Laundry. A magical evening, for a girl who’d grown up on a ranch in the midst of prosperous vineyards. For the first time, she’d felt like a grown-up in her pretty dress, sitting in a fancy restaurant, eating amazing gourmet food cooked by the finest chefs in the country.
Five weeks later, that glimpse into a glamorous life faded as she settled into her prison cell.
Evangeline rubbed her hand up and down her grandmother’s thin arms. “How are you doing, Nona?”
“I miss him. More than my heart can bear.” Tears filled Nona’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “This will be a difficult day, but we’ll get through it.” Nona reached out and touched Evangeline’s hair. “He’d be so happy you’re home.”
The front door slammed, cutting off whatever her mother was no doubt ready to wind up and spew at her this morning. Joey walked into the kitchen decked out in a black suit, crisp white dress shirt, and royal-blue tie with black dots. Red-rimmed eyes, damp, disheveled hair, and a haggard expression pointed to a massive hangover, not entirely on account of their father’s death. Joey had always been the party boy. It kind of felt good to know some things hadn’t changed, though Evangeline hoped Joey didn’t spend every night killing bottles of beer.
Joey stopped in his tracks and stared at her. “You’re really here.” His gaze traveled down the length of her and back up. “Where’s the rest of you? You’re skinnier than a sapling.”
“I’ve been on the Prison Diet. I don’t recommend it.”
Joey notched his chin toward her face. “You piss someone off?”
“Just someone with something to prove by taking down the new girl.” That was all she had to say about it.
“Who won?”
“No one really wins in prison.” She shrugged. “But I’m still alive.”
“Damn. How many times did you get into a fight?”
“Four that put me in the infirmary.” Others that added to her scary-dark memories.
“How many stitches?” He pointed to the scar running down her neck and disappearing beneath the dress over her shoulder.
“One hundred and seven.” She took a sip of her coffee, holding the mug in both hands to stop them from shaking with the traumatic memory of what happened and how close she’d come to bleeding out on the floor.
In prison, you are nothing but a number. There is no special treatment. And in that world, where minorities become the majority, she, a privileged girl, became the target of all those others who had endured bias and unwarranted persecution on the outside.
Before prison, she’d blithely lived her life unaware that others didn’t have the same sense that anything is possible. Period. No qualifications or restrictions.
Not anymore.
She’d learned some hard lessons that would stick with her for the rest of her life.
It hadn’t been easy, but it had been an education.
Joey had no idea how lucky he was to have the life he lived.
Her mother came from a humble background. At a young age, she’d been out in the fields and among the grapevines picking produce. She’d tried to get through to Evangeline how hard she’d worked to give Evangeline the life she lived. But, young and selfish and naïve about what that really meant, Evangeline had taken it all for granted. She’d shirked her responsibilities and turned her back on opportunities others wanted and probably deserved more than her.
She’d learned that when everything was tak
en away, she had to work hard to get it back.
And in the back of her mind was the deal she’d signed to help Chris with his investigation. She wanted her record cleared. She wanted a future free of the stigma. She wanted to erase that black mark from her past.
She didn’t know what he’d ask of her, but the thought of a life without her conviction following her and potentially blocking opportunities and hindering her progress professionally and personally appealed. A lot. More than she wanted to admit, because that kind of hope could be dangerous to her mental health. The potential of getting it made her want to do anything for it, but the thought of coming close and failing meant carrying the weight of what happened the rest of her life.
“Damn, sis, that’s brutal.”
Absolutely. And a hard lesson—one she learned quickly and painfully—for a girl who’d grown up sheltered by a tough father and two overprotective brothers. Fighting for herself had never been necessary—until it became a matter of life and death.
“It wasn’t a stay at a country club or spa, that’s for sure.”
“I thought about coming to see you, but . . . you know. Things here never stop.” Joey shrugged like she ought to get it.
She didn’t. Yes, the ranch required total dedication and nonstop work. But for Joey, the moment she left, she didn’t exist anymore. He had other priorities, and getting involved in his baby sister’s troubles didn’t rank higher than a night out at the bar and picking up a new girl.
She’d been selfish in her life. But Joey simply didn’t ever think of others. His world revolved around him. He didn’t get involved in anything that didn’t directly impact him.
If the hints her mother dropped about how her father had been when she went to jail were any indication, Joey wanted to steer clear of the drama and not get caught up in their parents’ fights.
It stung deep.
People say beware of strangers, but family are the ones who can hurt you the most.
So she gave Joey a snarky retort. “Priorities. Got it.” Work before his sister.
It was easier to show her anger and resentment to Joey, but she did glance at her mom and Nona to let them know she included them in her unspoken rebuke.
Joey’s eyes narrowed, but he shook off any anger or resentment about what she’d implied. Joey avoided personal confrontations. Which was why Charlie ran the ranch. Joey might bark once in a while, but he didn’t have any bite. He didn’t follow through.
She couldn’t make him understand how he made her feel or that his actions and inaction hurt her, because he didn’t feel like he’d done anything wrong. It didn’t matter to him. If it did, he’d have made an attempt to see or speak to her. She bet she barely crossed his mind the last four years. He made her feel insignificant in his life. It was hard to reconcile, because she didn’t feel that way about him. And when he didn’t get what he felt was his due, he let you know about it and played the poor-me card.
She didn’t want to play games with him or anyone anymore. “I’m just glad to be out. I wish the circumstances were better.”
“Like there’d be a good time for you to come home.” Her mother’s harsh words hurt like a sledgehammer to the chest, the pain crushing.
Joey and Nona stared at Mom with openmouthed gasps that she’d say such a thing.
Mom had always told her to ignore her brothers’ teasing and taunting, saying that they’d eventually stop. She wanted to ignore her mother’s relentless punishment now, but it couldn’t be dismissed, not when it came from her, cut so deep, and made Evangeline feel unworthy and unlovable.
She didn’t deserve it.
But her mother’s grief and anger made her look at Evangeline like an enemy.
Nona recovered first. “Today is about Richard. He’d want the family to be together and stand strong to say goodbye to him.”
“It’s because of her he died.”
Joey frowned. “Mom, Dad’s blood pressure was out of control. He was drinking like a man on a mission these last couple years.”
“And why do you think that is?”
Joey’s eyes filled with rare sympathy. “It’s not like she killed someone.”
Her mother stood, hands planted on the table. “She did. Her father.”
No one said anything. The stillness that settled into the room and over everyone grew palpable and made the atmosphere feel brittle. As if one movement would shatter everything.
Neither Nona nor Joey looked at her. Neither of them wanted to upset Mom more. She’d made up her mind and wasn’t open to changing it, no matter the argument.
The line had been drawn, and Evangeline stood alone against her family. The outsider.
Little did they know what she’d done for them.
“I’ll finish my coffee on the porch until everyone is ready to leave for the service.” Evangeline walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, where pictures lined the mantel and occupied every surface. She stared at the one of her atop a horse when she was five, her front teeth missing, her father standing next to her holding the horse’s lead rope, keeping her safe. The picture sat on the table next to her father’s favorite chair, along with the newspaper and a tumbler with half an inch of brown liquid still in it. Mom couldn’t bring herself to clean up after her husband. Like he’d be back any second to finish that dollop of whiskey.
Evangeline walked away from the memories and out onto the porch. She settled in a rocking chair and stared across the pasture, black cows grazing in the distance. The soft breeze whispered across her cheek. For a moment she felt her father’s presence and the brush of his thumb wiping away the tears she couldn’t stop from falling.
She missed him. She didn’t want to say goodbye.
But she needed to put the past behind her and find a way to live her life now, with the regret that she’d never get to see him again. She’d never get to tell him what she had to say.
He’d died and cheated her out of both those things.
Yes, she’d refused to see him while she was in prison. She thought there’d be time.
Time—that bitch—dragged while she was inside, and then ran out too soon for her father.
Every second of this day would feel like an eternity.
Tomorrow, with the funeral done and her father buried along with her past, she’d start her new life.
It couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Five
Evangeline stood out of the way as people said goodbye to her family at her father’s graveside. The service there had been short compared to the one at the church, with fewer guests and a quieter feel.
And a lot less behind-the-hand comments and conversations going on about her.
Her brother Charlie accepted a hearty handshake from Chris, who shocked the hell out of her by showing up at all.
Was he keeping tabs on her?
If he was, it was from afar.
At least he’d come in a suit and not his uniform. She’d drawn enough attention. People seemed more interested in staring at her than in the actual service.
They got a good show, and insight into the current family dynamic.
Her mother sat in the front pew in the church, head bowed, back straight beside Charlie. He’d arrived with his pretty blond wife and two adorable little ones and sat down without a word. Not even a smile, nod, or anything to indicate he cared one bit that she was there. Big brother had sided with Mom. His rebuke hurt just as much as Mom’s scorn because she idolized her big brother, who’d always protected her and treated her like a tagalong he resented but secretly loved.
Evangeline hadn’t been introduced to her sister-in-law or nephews. Charlie’s outright dismissal and refusal to even acknowledge he broke her heart.
Joey sat beside her three-year-old nephew. A big kid himself, he’d kept the toddler quiet and occupied, making faces and handing out fish-shaped crackers that he pretended to take out of the toddler’s ears.
She’d been jealous of his relationship with her n
ephew. She’d wanted so badly to hug the little ones and hear them call her Auntie. But they didn’t know her at all. It was like she hadn’t existed in her family’s world for the last four years, except as the cause of everything bad in their lives.
Instead of making a scene, trying to connect with Charlie and his boys, Evangeline sat quietly next to Nona, who alternately held her hand and played with the toddler when he climbed into Joey’s lap.
Evangeline and her mother were at opposite ends of the long pew.
The actual distance between them was not as big as the emotional gulf that separated them.
No one in the church could have missed how she’d been cast as the black sheep, there for her father, but not truly part of the family.
Every second of it increased the pressure building inside her, until she thought her heart would explode into a burst of broken, jagged pieces that would finally tear her completely apart.
After all the eulogies had been given, one poignant and filled with love from Charlie, the preacher asked if anyone else would like to say a few words about her father. Evangeline kept her focus on the casket and ignored the glare she felt from her mother, silently ordering her to stay seated.
Evangeline didn’t have anything to say to a crowd of people she’d known her whole life but who looked down on her now. What she had to say was for her father alone.
At the graveside, Chris nodded but didn’t come over to offer any words of condolence.
No one approached her. She stood alone by another grave watching the scene like a bystander in her own life.
The somber mood around the grave only amped her sadness and added to the weight of her loss.
In a crowd of people, she felt utterly alone. Isolated. An outcast.
As unwelcome here as she was at home.
Her mother held hands with one of her oldest friends and exchanged words that had her mother glancing over her shoulder, frowning at Evangeline, and turning back to her friend with a look that added to the sympathy in the other woman’s eyes.
The Me I Used to Be Page 4