by Lisa Shelby
He’s on his knees in front of me and is as close to me as he can get. His body is pressed against my legs and his hands are rubbing up and down my arms as if he is trying to warm me.
“Talk to me, baby. Devon gave me the basics, but I need you to tell me what’s been going on? I’m here now, honey and I am so sorry for everything. We’ll talk about all that later, but right now I need you to fill me in and tell me everything you can.”
Just Breathe
Jonathan
God, even in the shittiest of situations, being near her and being able to touch her again is everything. She is my everything, and I cannot believe that I shut her out. I am a selfish bastard. I really am.
Emily is always so strong and determined. To see her look so defeated and in so much pain was something I have never seen before, and I hope to never see again. I can’t believe I haven’t been there for her. It’s almost too much for me to bear. Not only did I break her heart because I shut her out, but she had finally trusted me enough to love me and let me love her back. But I was so involved in my own self-pity that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most. I couldn’t even be bothered to answer my phone or return a text.
Enough.
This selfish bastard routine is over and it’s time to take care of my girls. Right now I need to focus on finding the piece of shit that is doing this to them, and then I will try my damnedest to earn back her trust and love. For now, I have to figure this shit out.
It has to be somebody at the school. As soon as Blackburn was out on watch, the notes on the car and in the classroom stopped. She had gotten one strange text before the shooting, but the entire week she was out of school—waiting on my sorry ass to let her in—there were no threats. But they started again the day she went back to school. It has to be somebody at school that would have her number. We are going to have to interview everybody that she has given her number to.
All of this is running through my head as I pull up to Mick’s house. There are several city cars here, and I’m relieved to see that everybody is taking this seriously. Getting out of my truck, I bend my neck to avoid hitting my head and get a twinge of pain from my injury. I had forgotten all about it. Even though I’m healing just fine, the pain is still there and I still have stitches. No more pain killers though, and no drinking for a while either. It’s time to deal with the pain, and not hide from it. As I walk towards the house, I have a feeling of dread come over me. Not only do I not want to see the damage that was done to Ireland’s room but I know I’m about to face Mick. After what I did to his sister this may not go so well. I deserve whatever he dishes out though.
The pain in my neck is nothing compared to what I feel when I enter Ireland’s room. As I stand in the room where I have read bedtime stories, had tea parties, worn tiaras and tutus while playing princess, I am filled with a rage that has my heart beating so loudly that I can’t even hear myself think.
Thud . . . thud . . . thud . . .
Everything feels like it’s in slow motion as I look at her pink bedding cut to shreds. Somebody has taken a knife and literally shredded her blankets and pillows. There are feathers everywhere and her things are scattered all over the room. They have chosen one of her stufties to decapitate. Leaning against the body of that stuffed bear is a picture of Emily walking Ireland into school.
WHAT! THE! FUCK!
Rage. I am filled with rage.
Whoever this fucker is has been following Emily and Ireland. They know where she works, where Ireland goes to school, where they live and they have Emily’s phone number. What the hell is going on?!
I have to get out of this room before I lose it. I cross the hall to Emily’s room. Mick is standing there with Detective Noah Caldwell looking at something on the bed.
“What is it, Mick?”
Mick turns around and motions for me to join them. When I have full view of the bed, the scene isn’t anything dramatic. There is just a simple note that says,
Leave mine alone and I’ll leave yours alone.
“Mick, what the hell is going on? Who would want to do this to her?”
“Fuck if I know, man.”
Mick leaves the room and I follow him. He stops in the kitchen, grabs a coke for himself and hands one to me as well. Leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen, I have a direct view of the refrigerator, and I can see a new picture that has been added to the gallery of Ireland art that covers the appliance. This new picture says Happy Birthday Mommy on it. Then I see the wilting bouquet of balloons tied to a dining room table chair, and I realize on top of everything else I missed her fucking birthday. The woman I love was heartbroken, because of me, on her birthday.
“Don’t worry about it, man. She understands and she’s resilient as shit. You’ve been through a lot and nobody expects you to get over everything overnight.”
This is her brother, and I can’t let him let me get away with it that easily. I need to talk to him because if I’m lucky, he just might be my family one day.
“Thanks, Mick, but I still feel like a dick. The guilt took over, man, and it reminded me of losing my friend Matt over in Afghanistan, and not being there when my mom died. It’s no excuse, and I know that I have a lot of work to do to earn back her trust. I swear I won’t check out again, man. This was a huge wake up call. Believe me when I say that I am in love with your sister. All I want to do is take care of her and Ireland and make them happy. I have been in love with her for years, and I’ll do anything not to lose her again. I know you probably want to kick my ass right now, but there isn’t really anything you can say to keep me away from her.”
Mick crosses the kitchen and holds his hand out to me. He waits until I reach mine out to shake his before he says, “Good. As long as we’re all on the same page, and that Emmers and I are taken care of and happy, that’s all that matters. Now let’s figure this shit out.”
Nobody ‘Cept You
Emily
“Listen, Austin, thanks for stopping by before class starts. I am so sorry to bring you into this, but some strange stuff has been happening to me lately and the principal needs to talk to anybody that I might work closely with. There might be a police officer in the room as well, and I know that might make you uncomfortable. I am really sorry.”
“No problem, Miss J. Of course I’ll talk to them. Are you okay?”
He is such a sweet kid. I hate that he has to be involved in this.
“I’m fine, Austin. Thank you for asking. If it’s all right with you Officer Blackburn is gonna walk you down to the office to talk to Principal Utz?”
“Sure thing. I’ll see you later, Miss J and let me know if you need anything. After what you did for Jesse and how you take care of all of us, I got your back.”
I walk him to the classroom door where Officer Blackburn is waiting and I thank him once more. This is so embarrassing. I hate involving other people in my problems and I certainly don’t want Austin to think that I suspect he could be involved in this in any way. He’s a kid who struggles and he has a rough family life, but he’s a good kid.
I take a deep breath and prepare to endure even more embarrassment as I leave the classroom to head to the office and the library for Heidi. I know that the word is out and everybody knows what’s happening. Many of my co-workers are being brought in and questioned. I feel horrible. Stupid. Naive. These are not feelings I’m accustomed to. I don’t feel uncomfortable in my own skin.
The one positive about today was that Jesse was back in class. It sounds like some family friends have stepped up and taken him and his brother in. Things are starting to look up for them. He seemed glad to be at school, and that is all that any teacher can ever hope for. I needed to see his face to help me get through all the unpleasantness that surrounding me.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Mick’s over-zealous monster of a truck, I am completely exhausted and it’s only 11:30 am. The roller coaster that my emotions have been on since the Samson’s wedding has
me on edge, and I’m hanging on by a thread. Now that Jonathan’s back, I should be happy, but there is still so much to say and so much going on with trying to figure out who’s creating this nightmare. I am exhausted.
Mick insisted on picking me up and taking me to my mom’s where Ireland spent her day. Apparently, it was decided that I needed to go to school and keep my routine to try and draw out whoever is trying to destroy my sanity, but it wasn’t safe enough to let Ireland go to school. Mick and Jonathan haven’t shared many details, but I know that Ireland’s room was the target of the break in. The thought that this person would stalk me enough to know where I live and break in to my personal space has really rocked me. The fact that they are involving Ireland has me shook to the core, and I’m barely functioning.
I also hate being such a pain in the ass to everybody around me. Mick took time off work to help figure all this out and fix Ireland’s room up as best he can. My mom has taken time off of work to help with Ireland. Jonathan is now spending his time on the case, and I am not even sure exactly where we stand. Not to mention all of the staff at school and even some students are being questioned. I hate this! This is complete bullshit! I just don’t understand what the hell is going on, and what I have unknowingly done to be on this side of somebody’s hate. A hate so strong they would break into my home and threaten my child. None of this makes any sense.
The thought that this could be somebody that I see every day at work is unfathomable to me. I usually only see the good in people, and I am not naturally skeptical of others, but I feel as though this entire situation is changing me. I try not to show it, but I am second guessing everybody I talk to at work. Trying to listen closely to see if they say anything that could be suspicious at all. I hate the feeling of not being able to trust those around me, and the dread that I feel in the pit of my stomach is a constant. I can barely eat and my sleeping is sporadic. I tend to wake up in a sweaty panic most nights.
When we get to my mom’s, Mick walks me in and then says he has to head out to follow up on some things. He’s still not telling me much and it’s making me feel like a child. At this very moment in time I don’t have the energy to fight him for more information, so I just let it go.
The only energy I have left is for the little girl that just came running to me and jumped in my arms. I cannot believe how big she’s getting. Pretty soon I won’t be able to carry her around like this, and I know I need to enjoy every moment that I have with her at this age.
I’m so glad that she isn’t old enough to understand more than she does right now. I can tell that she knows that something is off, and I know she wants to be home with all of her things, but she doesn’t know enough to be scared. Like I am. All the time. At the moment, she’s just so excited to be around her Grandma and see more of Uncle Mick that she thinks this is all fun and games.
She does ask for some of her things so shortly after Mick leaves, I text him and ask him to bring a laundry list of things back to mom’s later that night. Mick says he’s on it and acts like it doesn’t bother him, but I hate that he is having to go out of his way again. I wish he would just let me in the house to get her stuff myself. That is impossible though since he won’t even let me drive right now. I decide right then and there that when he comes back later tonight, I will make a point of getting more information about the break in and when I can go back to the house. I love my mom, but she lives in a two-bedroom apartment and doesn’t have room for us. Ireland needs the normalcy of being around her things and not living out of her backpack. But, if it’s not safe I will not put her in harm’s way.
Sitting here on the couch in my mom’s place, I feel trapped. Even though I’m not alone, I sure do feel it. Jonathan came back last night after his first visit and he played with Ireland. After bath time, he read her a story. By the time he was finished with her, I was falling asleep out here on the couch. When he found me nearly passed out, he didn’t say a word. He just scooped me up, sat down on the couch and held me in his lap. When he first sat down, he took my chin and tilted my head up so that my eyes met his and he whispered. “I am so sorry, Gracie,” and then he brought his lips to mine and gave me the softest of kisses. I could feel some of my anxiety melt away, just from the warmth of his lips on mine.
He then told me to rest and gently guided my head to his shoulder. My face naturally nuzzled into the crook of his neck. He gave me a kiss on the top of my head and then just held me. The comfort his hold brought me and being surrounded by his smell was all I needed to fall into a deep slumber; a sleep that I hadn’t had in weeks. He held me for hours and I didn’t wake up again until I felt him tucking me into the couch. The apartment was dark, and I could only see the silhouette of him as he stood above me.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, baby. You get some rest and let Mick drive you. Make sure Ireland stays home with your mom, okay?”
“Okay, but Jonathan where are you going?”
“I have to go help Mick and the guys try to figure all this out, baby. I want nothing more than to spend all night with you in my arms, but I won’t be able to rest again until we know what’s going on. Just do what Mick tells you and we’ll do everything we can to get your world back to normal as soon as possible.”
“Okay.”
With that he kissed my forehead and left. Needless to say, it took quite some time to fall back to sleep without his arms around me.
Now I’m sitting where he left me wondering why I haven’t heard from him today. I am so confused. He says I’ll see him today, but I haven’t heard a thing from him. I know he’s been through a lot, and he needs time, but where is he?
I’m shook out of my wallowing when there is a knock on the door, and it scares me half to death. The glass of water that I’ve been holding, but not drinking, spills all over my hand and I get up and curse as I walk to the door and wipe my hand on my pants. Since when have I been a person that is jumpy and scared of everything? I hate what this is doing to me. I am not this person and I refuse to let all of this change me. It is some bullshit that a knock on the door—one I am expecting—scares the ever loving shit out of me. This has to end.
Even though I’m sure it’s Mick, I still check the peep hole and am actually very pleased to see that it’s not Mick. It is one handsome looking man from Georgia holding our bags. If only his face looked a little lighter. He looks like he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I’d do anything to help ease that load for him. The problem is that I am part of the reason for that weight being so heavy. Again, I am a pain in the ass.
I open the door and say, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he says, as we stand in the doorway holding each other’s gaze. After a long moment he says, “Mick wanted me to bring over some of your things.”
He looks exhausted.
“Oh, thanks for that. Come on in.”
The moment the door shuts, Ireland comes running to see who has arrived. The smile that spreads across her face is one so authentic and real that it nearly breaks my heart when she yells, “Jonafon!”. She is just as in love with him as I am.
He drops the bags and squats down so that she can jump into his arms and she wraps her arms around his neck to give him a hug. I notice that her right arm is resting on his stitches, and I reach over and move her arm.
“Baby girl, be careful! Jonathan has a boo-boo and we have to be careful with him.” I then turn my attention to him and catch him watching me.
“How are you doin’, Georgia? I can’t believe I didn’t ask yesterday. Things were so crazy and then I just feel asleep on you. I’m so sorry I didn’t ask.”
“Hey, it’s all good. Don’t worry at all. I am healing just fine except for some headaches here and there. I’m on schedule with my recovery and will be back to work soon.”
“I’m glad you’re doing okay. What are you doing for the headaches?”
“Nothing right now. It’s not too bad though. Please don’t worry. That’s my job anyway; to worry about you t
wo.”
Before I can protest and tell him that I don’t want that to be his job—he really doesn’t need any more stress in his life right now—he tickles Ireland and says, “Don’t tell me it’s not my job, Emily, or Ireland here will get more tickles!”
Ireland screams and laughs at the same time while Jonathan goes in for the tickle and I hold my hands up and say, “Okay, I give up. I won’t say anything. Just don’t tickle the poor princess to death!”
“Princess? Did you say Princess?” Jonathan stops his tickling and gets a very serious look on his face. He puts Ireland on her feet and then takes a bow in front of her and says, “Please forgive me, Princess. I should know better than to tickle the Princess of Happy Valley. Do forgive me?”
She giggles but loves when they play princess and says, “You are forgiven, Sir Jonafon.”
In mock relief, he thanks her for her kindness and gives her the backpack that’s filled with all of the things she requested. She thanks him, but suddenly has no interest in all of the things she had wanted from her room. She takes Jonathan by the hand and pulls him to the couch. He follows her lead and takes a seat. She then proceeds to climb all over him while she chats about school, and how excited she is that next month it will be her turn to bring the class goldfish home for Thanksgiving week. A quick look of puzzlement crosses his face, but is gone almost as fast as it arrived.
On the topic of the class goldfish, the conversation about snack foods begins as he reminds her that fishies are the best snacks ever. She disagrees and says that Teddy Grahams are the best. He agrees that they are in the top five, but that the number one will always be Goldfish. They go on and on like this for what seems like forever, just like they always do. I never thought I would be jealous of my daughter, but in this moment, when I’m feeling so unsure of where things stand between the two of us, I do feel a twinge of jealousy. I hate to feel it, but she is getting all of his attention, and I feel like I am left floundering with all of my emotions about to bubble over.