by Lisa Shelby
Devon sits back up in his seat and rubs his face with his hands. After a beat, he puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in to his side. “I know it’s confusing. He’s just going through a lot. Losing Bob is bringing back all of the guilt, loss, and lack of feeling in control that he felt when we lost Matt, and his mom for that matter. He’s blaming himself for all of it. I don’t want to speak too much for him, so I will leave it at that, but just know it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. He just doesn’t know how to deal with it all. Survivor’s guilt is a real thing and I have seen him go through it before. He’ll get through it. He just needs us to be patient and not to give up on him.”
“Devon, thanks again for everything. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here to update me. You have to be exhausted and overwhelmed. I wish I could take some of that off of you. If there’s anything I can do just let me know.” I look him in the eye and speak with conviction. “Devon, I promise you that I won’t give up on him.”
“I know you won’t, girl, and yes I am tired but I’m doin’ fine. Better than our boy in there.” He says as he stands and lifts his arms over his head and stretches.
“Listen, I have to go to work for a while. I’ll call the Fanuas on my way and update them. I’ll come back tonight. You should probably head home, Emily. He knows you’re out here and he feels really bad about that. He knows that you aren’t with Ireland if you’re here.”
Standing, I give him a hug. “Thanks, but I’ll stay . . . in case he changes his mind. Between school, mom, Cami, Alex and Mick, Ireland is covered. I’ll just stay a little while longer.”
After Devon takes his leave, I head to the vending machine down the hall and grab some reinforcements to get me through the day. I return to what I now think of as my chair in the waiting room. I pull my Kindle out of my purse—to start up a new trashy romance novel to take my mind off of Jonathan just down the hall. He’s so close, but feels a million miles away right now.
As I pull out my Kindle, out falls the picture that Ireland made for him. I had forgotten all about it. Looking at the picture of Frank, Frances, Jonathan, Ireland and myself at the park, I can’t help but tear up over the hopes and dreams that I feel wrapped up in this picture. Hopefully, Ireland will remind him that he has more to fight for this time around. It will also remind him that I’m out here waiting for him, and that I’m ready to fight alongside him whenever he’s ready.
I walk over to Tommy a.k.a. Officer Buford who I’ve known most of my life, and he takes the picture. His expression is one of pity. I’m too tired and too stubborn to care that I’m probably making a fool of myself by staying around, but it’s the only way I can stay sane right now. I’m right where I need to be. Tommy promises to make sure that Jonathan gets his picture, and I head back to my chair. I really hate this chair, but if this is as close as I can get to him then this chair will just have to do.
I sit with my Kindle in my hand, but all I can think about is how close I was to him when I gave Tommy the picture. He was just on the other side of the door. I wonder if he heard me talking to Tommy? I’m starting to feel lost without him, but I don’t know how that can be when he has only been back in my life for such a short time. I think Devon may be right. We are each other’s missing pieces. We do need each other to feel complete. I guess when you find the one that’s the way it is, and there isn’t anything you can do about it. Two weeks or twenty years, love is love and the one is the one. What are you gonna do?
It’s about eight o’clock, and Ireland has just gone down for the night when my phone alerts me that I have a text.
Georgia: Tell Ireland that I said thanks for the picture.
Gracie: I will.
Gracie: Can I see you tomorrow?
Georgia: No. Going home tomorrow.
Gracie: That’s great news! Can I bring you anything?
Georgia: No, thanks. Go back to work Emily. I’ll be fine.
Gracie: Well, if you aren’t going to be at the hospital I’ll go back to work, but I can stop by after and bring you lunch.
Georgia: No thanks.
He doesn’t realize he is breaking my heart with every denial he gives me. Or maybe he does. Maybe he doesn’t care. I’m trying to remember everything that Devon told me this morning. Mick and Cami have tried to remind me over and over as well that I haven’t done anything wrong. I just have to give him time. I feel like I need to bust down his door and tell him to go screw himself and his request not to see me! I don’t bust down his door though. Instead . . . I text him back.
Gracie: Let me know if you change your mind or you need anything at all. I’m not going anywhere, Georgia. I’ll be here when you’re ready. You and me, remember?
No reply.
Not that night.
Not the next day.
Not the next week.
Just no reply.
Ain’t No Sunshine
Jonathan
It’s Sunday. I’ve been home since Friday, but I still cannot bear to see anybody. I don’t really want to see Devon, but I know I have to. I know he won’t leave me alone and will just break the damn door down if I don’t let him in. I just sit in the same spot on my couch, day in and day out. I only get up to piss and get more alcohol. Thank God I had a case of beer in the garage to get me through after I ran out of the hard stuff.
The thought of seeing anybody—knowing that Truman died on my watch—is not something that I could stomach right now. I don’t want to see the look of disappointment or pity that will surely cloud their faces. I don’t want to hear them tell me it’s not my fault when we all know it is. I was his back up, and yet again I let one of my own down. I am a sorry excuse for a man. I know that, and I’m sure everybody else does too.
My recurring nightmare is to see any of those expressions cross Emily’s face. I fought so hard to get her back only to realize that I don’t deserve her. She deserves somebody who doesn’t let everybody around him down, time and time again. Those girls, Emily and Ireland, they have become my everything, but I just can’t be around them. I am no good for them, and there is no way I can let them see me in my current state. I feel empty without them in my life every day. But if I am any kind of man at all, I will let them go.
The problem is that Emily won’t let go. She is a woman on a mission and won’t give up. She has this determined resolve and is texting me every day like everything is normal. Sharing her day with me, giving me cute messages from Ireland, and checking to see if I need anything. I can’t bring myself to reply, but I sit and read her messages over and over. It’s like my own form of torture.
If I reply it will only give her hope. I can’t do that. Clearly, it’s not good to be close to me because I tend to lose those that I care about. If anything ever happened to either of my girls, I don’t know what I would do or how I could live without them in the world. The best thing for me to do is just stay away, and as hard as it is, not answer her texts.
I smell like shit! I mean I am fucking disgusting. No, a fucking nightmare is what I am. I’ve been home for a week and can’t remember the last time I took a shower. I fucking stink! Even Frances won’t come near me. If it wasn’t for her, and the fact that she needs to be fed, watered and let out I may not have made it through this week. Devon, really should just come take her. I’m not fit to take care of her and even she is disgusted with me. I can see it in her eyes. She thinks I’m pathetic and she’s right. I am.
I have consumed every bottle of alcohol in the house and am officially out of my pain pills. I’m even out of the few sleeping pills I had on hand to get me through my crazy hours as a cop. A fucking cop. Who the hell am I kidding? I have no damn business protecting and serving anybody.
I’m sure I could be back to work by now if only I could stop wallowing in my own misery long enough to give a shit. Nope, I’m in the same spot I’ve been in for days, thinking I may actually have to leave the house soon to re-stock on some cheap booze.
I haven’t charged my phon
e in days, and Devon has pretty much given up on me. He hasn’t come by in a couple days, but that’s fine by me. I don’t need him riding my ass. I’m not ready. Not sure I ever will be. I don’t want to talk it out. I really don’t want to do anything but drown out my self-induced sorrows. It seems he’s finally leaving me the fuck alone though. Thank Christ!
I haven’t had a drink since sometime last night and I think it’s late afternoon by now. I hate feeling sober because it means I can feel again. I don’t want to feel.
There’s a sudden pounding on the door and Frances starts barking like crazy. She’s probably hoping whoever is on the other side of the door is here to rescue her from the monstrosity that I’ve become. I hear Devon yelling on the other side of the door, but I still don’t make a move to get up and let him in.
Finally, Devon uses the key I gave him when I moved in and bursts through the door.
“Dude, why aren’t you answering your phone?”
I have no answer for him. I just lift my head and watch him as he paces the floor. He looks desperate.
“Wake the fuck up, Irish!”
He’s shouting and Devon doesn’t shout.
“What the fuck do you want, D?”
Still yelling, he stops his pacing and stands in front of me fuming. “What do I want? I want you to snap out of your goddamned pity party and wake the fuck up! Emily and Ireland need you, asshole!”
I start to tell him that they don’t need me when he interrupts me.
“Just shut the fuck up, Irish. The bullshit has started again and it’s serious this time. Emily is terrified, dude. She needs you. YOU. NEED. TO. WAKE. THE. FUCK. UP!”
His words are starting to sink in, and I’m starting to feel anxious. I have never seen him like this. He is pissed, scared and frustrated. It must be serious. What the fuck is wrong? My girls . . . no! This cannot be happening. Not my girls!
“What do you mean it’s started again? Why is she terrified, D?”
Devon calms down and sounds very somber when he replies.
“J, whoever this is, that is messing with your girl? They’ve been in Mick’s house. They were in Ireland’s room, man. They fucked up her things.”
That is all it takes. It’s like somebody has flipped a switch and the surge of adrenaline and anger that I feel shooting through my body brings me back to life.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought by being away from them I was protecting them, but I was wrong. They need me with them to keep them safe. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself and not doing what I was put on this earth to do. Take care of those two girls. Nothing else matters.
Devon can see me waking up out of my masochistic funk and says, “Go get in the shower, Irish. You fucking stink.”
“Thank you, D, for everything.”
“I got you. Now go get yourself together. Your girl needs you.”
I run down the hall to take my first shower in days and wake myself up so I can get myself back to where I belong.
The Scientist
Emily
“Chica? Why don’t you let me take her and lay her down in the other room?” Cami asks from beside me on my mom’s couch. I know she’s trying to help, but I just can’t seem to let her go. Ireland is fast asleep in my arms after falling asleep in the car on the way here. We were on our way home after a big day of running errands when Mick called and told me to come to mom’s instead. I can’t stop replaying the phone call in my head on a constant loop.
“Hey Mick, what’s up? Did you think of something you needed me to pick up while I’m out?”
“Emmers, where are you right now?”
“We’re in the car about five minutes from home. Why?”
“Sis, I need you to head to mom’s.”
“Why? Mick, did something happen?”
He sounds somber when he says, “Mom’s fine, but I don’t want you and Ireland at the house right now.”
“Mick, is everything okay? You don’t sound okay.”
“Emmers . . . they got in the house.”
“What do you mean? Who got in the house, Mick?”
I don’t understand him. It’s like he’s talking in code.
“Whoever is messing with you, Em. Em . . . I came home and Frank was sitting on the front porch because the front door had been left open. I went into the house and nothing was taken, but when I got to Ireland’s room . . . Em . . . they messed up Ireland’s room. It’s bad.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut and all the air in my lungs escapes me. I can’t breathe. On a whisper I manage to say, “What?”
“I am so sorry. I hadn’t gotten to turning on that alarm system yet, sis. When I find who did this I am going to make them wish they were never born. Trust that, Em. This is going to end now,” He hisses.
“How do you know it’s the same person who’s been threatening me?”
“Em, they left a note in your room. It’s the same person. It says basically the same thing all of those damn text messages from the last week have been saying. Now, go to mom’s because I don’t want you guys to see this. I have detectives on their way over. We’ll get things cleaned up as best we can before you come back. Where did you get Ireland’s bedding? I’ll see if I can replace it with the exact same thing so it isn’t so obvious to her.”
I can’t even reply to him. It’s so bad that he has to replace Ireland’s bedding. What have I done that is so wrong that my baby girl deserves this?
“Em, you there?”
Shit! I need to snap out of this. I have a little girl to take care of. If the last week or so of my life is any indication, I’m on my own in this world except for Mick, Mom, Alex and Cami. I need to get my head right and work with Mick and do whatever he says.
“Yeah Mick, I’m here. Her bedding is from Target and I think it’s one they always have in stock, but I can go get it. You don’t have to do anything else. It’s my fault your house was broken in to. I don’t know what’s going on, Mick, but I am so sorry.”
“Stop it, Em. This is not your fault and that will be the last time I hear you talk like that. Listen, get to mom’s and I’ll call Cami and have her meet you there, okay? We’re gonna figure this out, sis. I won’t rest until we do. Detectives are here, so I got to go. Love you, sis, and call me if you need anything or if you get any more messages, okay?”
“Okay, Mick. Thanks.”
That was an hour ago. Now here I sit, perched on the edge of my mom’s couch with Ireland draped across my lap. I can’t seem to sit back and relax into the couch. I’m sitting on the edge feeling like I’ll need to jump up and protect my baby girl at any moment.
Cami is gently rubbing her hand up and down my back and trying to soothe me with reassuring words. I think she’s worried because I haven’t really said anything in the last hour. Nor have I cried or had much emotion at all. I am just holding Ireland and staring blankly ahead. I know that my silence is freaking Mom and Cami out. I heard Cami on the phone updating Alex, and I could hear the worry in her voice. But I can’t speak. I feel like if I talk I might lose it. But I am a mom and I don’t get to lose it. I have a little girl in my arms that needs me to keep it together.
Cami has been there for me every day since Jonathan’s shooting. She helped Mom and Mick with Ireland and then when Jonathan rejected me. Every day she has been there for me. She has let me cry on her shoulder, scream and rage over how angry I was that he was shutting me out, and most of all she has simply listened. In addition to my relationship woes, she’s been there through all of the threats that have started since I went back to work. She has been here every step of the way, just like she has been since that fateful day in elementary school. Turns out, her deciding we were going to be best friends, was the best decision anybody ever made for me.
There’s a gentle knock on the door, and it startles all of us.
“Hey, it’s okay. Mick probably just sent somebody over to ask some questions or to guard you or something. Don’t worry. You’re
safe here,” Cami says as she continues to rub calming strokes across my back.
Devon enters the room and my heart instantly stops. No. Not now. Please tell me he isn’t here with bad news. Please tell me that Jonathan is okay. I can hear my mom whispering with somebody in the hall, and I assume that Gabby must have come with him.
“Devon, what is it? Is he okay? What’s wrong?”
He just looks at me, then takes a step to the side. Jonathan walks in behind him, followed by my relieved looking mom. The moment I see him, all the tears I’ve been holding in come flooding out and I burst into silent sobs.
Everything that happened this past week and a half comes crashing down on me in one fell swoop. From the scene at the wedding, to Jonathan’s shooting, the high of Jonathan loving me, to his rejection mere hours later, to the radio silence that followed, the threats and now the break in. Seeing him here and walking towards me causes my dam to break and the tears won’t stop. I knew I was stressed, but I had no idea how much I was truly holding in. I have always done my best in life to not need anybody, but I need him. I know this now.
I feel Cami get up from beside me as Jonathan comes down to his knees in front of me. He takes my face in his hands, like I love so much, and leans his forehead to mine. He whispers my sweet nickname that I have come to love and crave from him, and I close my eyes and revel in the wonder of him actually being here.
After what seems like barely a second and hours all at the same time, he releases me and puts his hand on Ireland’s head and simply stares at her for a moment.
“Baby, we’re gonna have Cami take this sweet little princess into the other room, okay?”
I just nod my head, still not ready to speak. The tears have stopped, and I’m slowly starting to feel stable with Jonathan in my presence, but I’m still not okay.
He stands. Cami approaches us and gives Jonathan a hug and thanks him for coming. She bends down and as she takes Ireland from my arms she whispers in my ear. “I knew he’d snap out of it. He’s here and he loves you. He just needed time. It’s gonna be okay, chica. It’s. Gonna. Be. Okay.” She stands with Ireland in her arms, and she and my mom leave the room. Devon must be outside, because I don’t see him anymore, and it seems we’re now alone.