Shelter

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by Stephanie Fournet


  “Elise…” I spoke her name, intent on talking to her, but I had no idea what I wanted to say. I wanted to apologize. Not for the kissing. Not even for the confessing. But for the look of disappointment she’d worn when I’d told her I needed to leave her alone.

  She spared me the briefest of glances, that frown still stamped on her forehead, before she returned her gaze to the space in front of her.

  “Elise, I-I’m sorry I upset you this morning.”

  She said nothing. I’d watched Elise Cormier ignore me for three years, but I didn’t recognize this tactic. She’d never just stared ahead. Instead, she’d give me her back and act like I wasn’t in the room.

  I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Please, just look at me.”

  But she didn’t. With her tray in front of her, Elise took three slow steps straight ahead, almost up to the hallway door of the dining room.

  I followed. “Elise, pl—”

  “I think your parents are in there,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  Elise tilted her chin to the hallway bathroom where the door was still closed. “I saw them go in there.” Her eyes flashed to mine. “It’s been a while.”

  A chill of dread knifed up my spine. Hoping she was wrong, I scanned the crowd surrounding us. Neither of my parents were in the dining room, the part of the living room I could see, or our side of the front hall.

  Our eyes met for an instant, and we moved as one to the door. I gave a firm knock. The answer came as a short, feminine cry, quickly choked off. My pores opened.

  I took a lungful of breath, bracing myself to throw a shoulder into the door when Elise gripped my wrist. Her wide eyes met mine, and she shook her head. Holding my gaze, she let go of my wrist and brought her fingers to the upswept perfection of her hair. She withdrew a bobby pin from its center, looked over her shoulder as though checking to make sure the coast was clear, and then inserted the closed end into the bathroom’s doorknob.

  I’d never noticed her hands before that moment. The way her fingers were both lovely and capable. Her nails were short but smooth and polished with a clear gloss. They were hands that knew work. That created. That got results. And they were beautiful.

  As she worked the pin, her thumb and index finger fought and strained, and I felt a little in awe of her. How had she learned this trick? And before I had time to ask, I heard the click of the lock giving.

  Before she could turn the knob, I pushed Elise out of the way. Shoving the door open, I lunged inside and slammed it behind me.

  “Jesus!”

  My mother was on the floor, cowering by the toilet. My father, red-faced and vibrating with rage, bared his teeth at me. “Get out.”

  “Like hell I will.” I pushed past him, ready for him to strike but knowing he wouldn’t. Not with a house full of people.

  I knelt beside my mother. “What did he do?” Though her face was tear-stained, I didn’t see any marks around her mouth or eyes. No blood. She clutched at her middle, and I guessed he’d hit her in the stomach or ribs.

  But she said nothing, as usual.

  “What happened?” My voice came out rough, betraying the shaky control that had started to slip the moment I’d heard my mother’s stifled cry. I was home. We were under the same roof. I should have been able to keep her safe.

  I tucked a hand under her elbow and helped her to her feet. She moved stiffly, her body hunching forward when she stood as though cradling pain.

  Mom sniffed and swallowed, and I could see tightness in her jaw. “It’s alright, Cole.” Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke, and she shook her head, her eyes almost pleading. “I’m alright. He didn’t mean it.”

  Her protection of him made me see red. “Bullshit.”

  “You heard her.”

  I turned to see my father taking a step toward me.

  Once, the way his nostrils flared with the curling of his lip would have turned my veins to ice water. Pain would soon follow, and worse than the pain had been the fear that this time he wouldn’t stop. That this time, he’d kill me, and I’d blown my chance to run away.

  Not anymore.

  “Stop right there.” I held his soulless gaze, afraid now only of my vanishing self-control. “Back off or—”

  “My house, Coleman.” His eyes narrowed in an ugly smirk, and for the millionth time, I thanked God that while the shape of our eyes was the same, his were a dull gray.

  My blues were my mother’s and her mother’s. I didn’t have to see him every time I looked in the mirror.

  “Don’t ever think you can push me around in my own house. I’ve never responded well to threats.”

  Understanding passed between us. He was calling my bluff. Rubbing my promise of violence in my face. Are you going to shoot me now? With a house full of people? His taunting smirk seemed to ask.

  I had my gun with me. It was upstairs in my suitcase beneath my pair of Nike Lunars.

  I’d pictured doing it a thousand times. But, no. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t use it on him. Not in cold blood. Not because he didn’t deserve it. But because I didn’t. Thinking about it was one thing. A tempting and satisfying fantasy. But if I picked up that gun and blew him off the face of the earth for real, what would I be?

  I didn’t think I’d still be me.

  I’d be more like him. I’d be what remained of him. And I didn’t want to be that.

  But it was time to get Mom and Ava out.

  I squared my shoulders. “Judge McCarthy is looking for you.” It was a lie, but the flare of surprise I expected fired in his eyes. The man’s ego had always been in his back six. It ruled him even more than his rage. “Maybe we shouldn’t make your guests wonder why all three of us are hiding in the bathroom.”

  He gave me a steely glare, one that let me know how much he missed the days when he could best me, and then his eyes cut to my mother. “Don’t come out until you’ve cleaned up the mess of your face.”

  “Of course not,” Mom whispered, a sob in her throat.

  The urge to choke him clenched my fists.

  But before I lost it, my father gave us his back and opened the bathroom door. He stepped out and closed it quickly behind him, but not before I caught a glimpse of Elise.

  Wisely, she’d moved away, back into the dining room, but our eyes met, hers wide with worry as she watched. Her tray, I noticed, was now empty. I lifted my chin to reassure her before the door closed her off.

  I spun around to face Mom. She sagged against the bathroom counter, clutching her side.

  “He pushed you down and kicked you in the ribs.” I wasn’t asking. I didn’t need to ask. I’d seen this before.

  I’d felt it before.

  Mom’s eyes flicked to mine before darting away. “I… was talking to Rich Reynolds. The one who just made junior partner,” she said, her voice shaking. She gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles going white.

  “Sit down, Mom,” I urged. I guided her the toilet even as she protested.

  “I should get back out—”

  “Mom, just sit.”

  She winced as she did, letting out a pained hiss.

  Asshole cocksucker.

  Maybe I couldn’t pull the trigger, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t lose any sense of self if I just pistol-whipped him.

  “He was making me laugh,” she said.

  “What?” I frowned.

  Mom wouldn’t look at me. I watched her brow lift with the memory. “Rich Reynolds. He was making me laugh. It upset your father,” she said with a shrug. “He told me I was flirting.”

  “Mom—”

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “Mom, don’t be ridiculous.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I thought he was b-better.” Her voice broke, and the sob that followed made her wince again. She quickly smothered it.

  I swallowed my rage. “We are leaving tonight.”

  Mom shook her he
ad, still not looking at me. She was looking at her hands of all things, fiddling with her wedding ring. “No, no. Of course not.”

  I touched her chin gently so as not to scare her, but I made her look up at me. “Yes, we are, Mom—”

  “I can’t. I can’t leave him—”

  “Mom, he’s never going to change. And I can’t go back to Tulane if he’s still doing this to you.”

  Her eyes widened then. “But you have to go back. You have to earn your degr—”

  “Fuck my degree, Mom. You’re not safe here. Ava’s not safe here. And I’m not a kid anymore.” I shook my head. I’d drag them out of the house if I had to. “I can take care of you. You both can stay in my apartment until we can find something—”

  “No.” She batted my hand from her face. “I’m not leaving him. I took a vow, Cole.”

  A bitter laugh broke from my lips. “Mom, he took a vow too. And he’s broken it time after time.”

  Her gaze shifted to the left, and I watched her eyes fill. I knew she was remembering better days, days she would always cling to. An idea announced itself.

  “Mom, what if it was temporary?”

  She fast blinked before looking up at me. “Wh-what?”

  A took a deep breath, filling my chest with hope. “What if you and Ava came to stay with me? Just for a while. He wouldn’t want to give you up,” I said, not knowing if I spoke the truth, but also not caring. Anything to get them out of this house. “We could tell him it was a kind of intervention. That we were leaving until he got some help. He can see someone… o-or he could check into a program.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. I knew immediately when Mom scrunched up her nose. “You know he’d never do that—”

  But I rallied. “No, not never. You’ve never left. You’ve never told him enough is enough.” I let my eyebrows climb with hope I wanted to feel. “He’s never had the motivation to change, Mom.”

  She frowned at this, and I could see she was thinking. Actually considering. I pulled out all the stops, dropping to my knees in front of her.

  “Mom, I’m still in college. But one day, I’m going to get married.” Without warning, the image of Elise Cormier’s face flashed through my mind, catching me off guard. My gut quickened in a way that had me holding my breath. Something must have shown on my face because the look in my mother’s eyes changed.

  “Coleman… is there someone?” Her light blue eyes actually sparkled.

  “W-well, I-I…” I stammered then stalled. I licked my lips and tasted Elise. Christ, she’s sixteen! “No… no… but there will be someday.”

  For the first time since I’d burst into the bathroom, my mother’s smile unfurled. “Yes…” She nodded, reaching up and laying her hand on my cheek. “…there will be. And you’ll be a wonderful husband to her and loving father to your children.”

  I’d never tried this tactic before, but I went for it now. I shook my head for dramatic effect. “Mom, I won’t be able to bring my family around if he’s still like this.” I’d never pictured this future family before. And, yeah, I was talking right now to get my mother to do something she’d never agreed to. But I knew as I spoke the words, they were true. No way in hell was I letting my someday wife and children around my father. “No way in hell,” I swore aloud.

  Her smile fell, and her brow creased. My mother’s gaze unfocused as though she were seeing grandbabies. Her grandbabies that needed to be protected. “No…” Her voice was all breath. “No, of course not.”

  This might actually work.

  I grabbed my mother by the elbow. “Mom, it’s not too late for him. It’s not too late for you. Please.” I’d begged her before, but we’d never gotten this far. Hope spurred my pulse. “Leave with me so we can give him the chance to get better.”

  For a moment, I saw her begin to surrender. But then doubt crept back over her features. “I don’t know, Cole. It’s Christmas. Let’s wait—”

  I squeezed her arm. “Mom, we can’t wait. I’m not letting you wait.” We were doing this. To hell with waiting. To hell with Christmas, as if it had ever meant anything real to us. “We’re leaving tonight. Just trust me.”

  “But, Cole…” She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

  I took her by the shoulders gently so I wouldn’t hurt her. “We’ll go. Tonight. We’ll stay in my apartment. He’ll know that one way or the other, this is over.” My steady gaze moved between her uncertain one. “It’ll be his to decide how this unfolds. Either he gets help or he gets the hell out of our lives.”

  “I-I need to explain it to him. I can’t leave him without a word.”

  “Mom. No.” I shook my head. He couldn’t know we were leaving. That would never work. “You can call him in the morning, but you cannot tell him before we are out of the house. You know he’ll freak.”

  The pinched look she wore told me she knew all too well. Finally, she nodded. “Okay… Okay. We’ll go stay with you.” But then her look turned defiant as she took me in under her brows. “But just for a few days. To prove a point. If he’s not ready to get help, I’m not ready to leave him for good.” Her composure slipped then, her chin trembling.

  “Fine. That’s fine,” I lied. Once I got her and Ava to New Orleans, I’d find people to help her. An attorney. A therapist. I’d call the police and press charges. Get a restraining order on the bastard. With a little distance, we might be able to get her to see things clearly.

  I plucked a tissue from the pewter box on the bathroom counter and dabbed it under my mother’s eyes. “But for tonight, we just have to act like everything's normal.”

  She sucked in a shaky breath. “But how will we… do it?”

  In this moment — as in so many before — my mother seemed to me like a child of five. I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t felt responsible for her. The fact that it was supposed to be the other way around just seemed like a cosmic joke.

  “I’ll take care of everything. We’ll leave after he’s asleep.” I studied her expression to see if she could handle this. She gave me a tight nod, but she didn’t protest. “For now, we need to get back out to the party like we normally would.”

  Mom took the tissue from me and made to stand, but she moaned and gripped my forearm.

  I helped her to her feet as carefully as I could. She probably had a broken rib. In the morning, I’d take her to a clinic in New Orleans for X-rays. That was when we’d get the police involved. Maybe they could even issue an arrest tomorrow.

  Wouldn’t that shock the shit out of him?

  I had to admit I was looking forward to that.

  “Can you stand?” I asked, turning her toward the mirror. We stood side by side, looking at our reflections.

  Mom’s face had gone ghostly white, but she nodded all the same. “I’ll be fine,” she rasped.

  Fuck waiting. “We can go right now. Just get Ava and walk right out of here. He wouldn’t dare try to stop us.”

  But she shook her head almost violently. “I will not disgrace this family like that. We’ll leave tonight. After everyone is gone.” Some of the color had come back to her cheeks, and her gaze held mine through the glass. I could see she’d do whatever it took to keep the illusion intact. Pushing her on this would not help.

  “Okay.”

  I stood beside her as she wiped away the tear tracks and smoothed her hair.

  “How do I look?” she asked, giving me a nervous smile that scraped my heart.

  “You’re beautiful, Mom.” I wanted her to know it. She was. Inside and out. She didn’t need my father to give her value. Maybe in the weeks and months ahead, I could help her see that.

  Mom turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. Her eyes looked misty, and I hoped she wouldn’t cry again.

  “You and Ava are the best things I’ve ever done. I’m so proud of you.” She brushed her fingers over the fabric of my suit, sweeping away invisible lint.

  I knew for her this was affection. How can you hug your so
n with broken ribs? How can you pull him into your lap with your shoulder out of joint? I pressed a kiss to her cheek, giving her all she could accept from me.

  Maybe this was something we could change too in the days ahead.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  She nodded, her eyes going wider. “I’d better go out first.”

  “You should go find a place to sit down.”

  Mom shook her head. “No. I think I’m better off standing. I won’t be able to get up and down to tell all the guests goodbye.”

  “Mom…” I wanted to growl. I wanted to rage. Neither would do any good right now.

  She patted my arm. “It’s alright. It’ll just be a little longer.”

  I held her gaze for a moment. She looked composed. She looked beautiful. This was her talent. She could give perfection a run for its money. My father had never managed to take that from her. And I wouldn’t try now.

  “I’ll go talk to Ava and take care of a few things, and then I’ll come stand with you. If you need to, you can lean on me.”

  Mom gave my arm a squeeze. “I always lean on you, Coleman.”

  I opened the door for her and watched her slip from the bathroom. She moved slowly, perhaps, but her steps were graceful. She kept all the agony close. Like always.

  Ava had done neither of the things I expected her to do when she heard we were leaving. She hadn’t fought me, and she hadn’t cried. She had, however, gone white at the news that our father had hurt Mom again. She’d agreed when I told her to pack a bag as soon as the guests left and wait, dressed and ready to go, in her room. I’d send her down to the car when it was time.

  I’d pulled her into the hall off the laundry room, and once we were square, I sent her to stand by Mom while I went in search of Elise. The party was winding down, and I found her busing dishes on yet another tray.

  I was beginning to hate those fucking trays.

  “Put that down and meet me in the side hallway.”

  As she’d cleared a high table in the front hall, I’d approached her from behind and whispered these instructions, claiming for myself one last chance to view the back of that green dress up close. Given my night’s mission, the contrast of lace and skin should have been the last thing on my mind, but its temptation only seemed stronger to me now. Now that I didn’t know when I would see her again.

 

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