“You’re pretty amazing. I love spending time with you. Let’s not slow it down too much. Some of this new stuff is…”
“Dreamy? Spectacular? Orgasmic?” He laughed at his attempt at a joke that I had to laugh, too.
“Yeah…that’s the word I was looking for.”
“Which one?” He winked as he pulled me into a hug.
“I’ll let you use your imagination.”
“That’s my girl.”
“You mean, here comes my girl?”
"Yes, of course, that's what I meant."
“I’ve waited my whole life to hear those words. You get major bonus points for being a Tom Petty fan.”
There wasn’t anything left that would make him a better match for me. His humor and tenderness were perfectly proportioned. I wasn’t sure why I pushed him away before. I guess I wasn’t ready to be open to these feelings. I wasn’t worthy of love from anyone. I wasn’t sure if I still was, but I wouldn’t spend any more time pushing it away. I deserved happiness. I had so many years to make up for.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Donald Brice's death didn't even make the paper. His body was cremated and his funeral was planned. Sonya's mother was the only one listed in his mediocre obituary as a "friendly neighbor." There were no children or other family listed. Any guilt I held about stealing someone's father, brother, uncle or friend lifted. No one was going to miss him. His death had to happen. He did it to himself. If he hadn't been so eager to get into my pants, he might still be alive.
At the office, I opened up the trauma group folder and found Sonya’s number. I picked up the phone and gave her a call. “Hey Sonya, how are you doing?”
"I'm fine…well, actually…nah…I'm okay."
“Are you sure? Sounds like you need to talk.”
“No, I’m okay…really…I’m just at work.”
“Alright. I just wanted to remind you about our meeting tomorrow and wanted to make sure you’re OK.”
“Thanks, Val. It means a lot to know you’ve got my back.”
“See you tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. See you then.”
Maybe she didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps she just didn’t care. I didn’t need notoriety, but knowing that taking Donald Brice's life gave her some freedom and safety would be nice. What was the point of taking his life if it wasn't to make the world a better place? Even if she didn’t know he was gone, it still helps…his death was the only way to make sure he'd never touch another child again. I only wished he would have suffered a little more. The years of pain his actions caused Sonya was worth more than the few hours he had to endure.
What could I have done differently? I didn’t even know my intentions were to kill him. I just wanted to get some information. It all happened so fast and everything fell into place so smoothly...and now any of the evidence I may have left behind didn’t matter. His body had been turned to ashes. His footprint on this Earth was now as insignificant as his time here was. I wasn’t ever going to be sorry for that.
The anticipation for Tuesday's group made everything else fade into the background. I wanted to hear how these ladies were doing and how their week went. The only part I wasn't looking forward to was Jane. She was next to impossible to figure out. As much as I didn't want to have this group, I was so glad Jeanine asked me to do it. We were the perfect mix of people and having such a small group made it easier to share some of the most intimate parts of our lives.
I spent Monday night writing down parts of my story. I had always suggested it to clients, but I never tried it. After hours of writing, I took a break to read what I had written and the fury inside me grew. There was something about seeing it all on paper that gave it more power. I spent so much time trying to move forward in my life without acknowledging the past. I thought by ignoring it, the power it held over me would disappear. All it ended up doing was taking over my life, kept me guarded and alone. There were so many times I wished I had someone I could talk to, but I never trusted anyone enough to share.
Telling Tim my story was easier than I anticipated and it didn't scare him away. I was sure if he knew what had happened, the sight of me would disgust him and he'd never want to see me again. He surprised me and made me ready to share my story with others. I thought about what I would say to the group. How I would say it and what I would share. It would be unprofessional to share my story; the group was for them, not me. But what if sharing made them see I understood their pain? What if my story helped them see me as more than just some professional doing their job? Maybe I wasn’t ready to share with them just yet. Or perhaps I was.
The incident with Donald Brice showed me what occurs when I just let things happen. If I had planned what transpired, I never would have done it. In the moment, I did what I needed to do. There was no fault for that. And the world had one less child molester out there preying on innocent lives.
I put my pen back to the paper and wrote as more flashbacks came. Memories of what Chad made me do filled the page. With each word I wrote, my hatred grew stronger. I closed my eyes and imagined Chad in place of Donald Brice. The rage inside of me beat louder with every pump of my heart. I wanted to see his lifeless body in bed, found days later, with his pants off. I wanted to give him as much shame as he gave me all those years.
The anger switched over to sadness as I thought about Gabriel. I loved my son, regardless of how he came to be. I loved him without knowing him, and I loved him without knowing if I ever would. The pages soon filled with tear-stained paper and smudged ink. What would he think if he knew why I had to give him away? How would it change his life if he knew how he was conceived? Would he understand I had no choice, or would he be angry at me for not fighting for him?
Page after page, question after question, I still had no answers. I closed the notebook and tucked it into the box in my closet. I wasn’t sure why I felt I needed to hide it, although reading the words on those pages would not be beneficial to me, not yet anyway. After hours of this, I had come to the conclusion the group wasn’t my place to share. My pain was too much to share with others who knew what pain was. My job was to help them find a way to heal their pain.
Morning had come quicker than usual, which made it twice as hard as normal to get out of bed on time. When I remembered group was only hours away, my dread for another day was replaced with excitement. I was looking forward to seeing the ladies and even more anxious to see if Sonya would be sharing. It wasn’t like I could ask her, I would just have to wait and see.
When I pulled into the hospital parking lot, a rusty blue Dodge Caravan was parked in the employee lot. It was not a car I recognized, although that wasn’t uncommon for patients to use our spaces when the rest of the lots were full, but this one had given me an uneasy feeling. I pulled out my cell phone to have it ready to call for help and put it to my ear and pretended to be having a conversation as I walked to the building. When I was about ten steps away from the van, I heard the door open and close. I didn't turn around to see who got out, but the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
I increased my stride but was unsuccessful at reaching the hospital before they caught up to me. "Val…hey, Miss Social Worker, I need to talk to you."
I recognized the voice right away. “You’re early, Jane.” Annoyance replaced the adrenaline that was festering inside of me.
“For what?” Her eyes looked wild and her hair a mess.
“For group. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
"I've been here all night. I didn't have anywhere else to go." She wrung her hands as she walked with me into the building. "Seth kicked me out…" Her sentence was left unfinished as she realized she said too much.
“Seth kicked you out? What are you talking about?”
“You heard me wrong. I said…uh…Ted kicked me out…we got into a fight last night. He said he’d kill me if I didn’t leave.”
I turned on the lights in the conference room and set my bag on the table. “Jane, what is g
oing on? Who is Ted? I thought you lived alone…I thought you and Carmen lived alone.”
“Why would you think that? I’m not capable of living alone. Besides, why does it matter?”
“Did you go to the police?”
“What the hell are they going to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe protect you from a guy who said he is going to kill you.”
“No…they wouldn’t understand. I told you I don’t like cops…well except for…what’s his name?”
“I think you need to call them. Do you want me to help you? No one should treat you like that. Did Carmen know Ted?”
“Yeah, we lived with him. That’s a dumb question.”
“Was he the one who hurt her? Do you think he could have killed her?”
“I told you to drop that shit. I told you she killed herself and to stop putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. Jesus fucken Christ.”
"Jane, calm down. You came to me for help, that's what I'm trying to do."
She let out a heavy sigh and slammed her hand flat on the table. “I just wanted you to give me some money, not stick your damn nose in my business. I need some...food. I don’t need your help with anything else.” She turned her back to me and crossed her arms. I noticed a slight tremor as she tried to sit still.
“I’m sorry I upset you. Come with me, I can get you some breakfast.”
“I don’t want to eat here. I just need money. God damn it. Why are you such a bitch?"
My disgust for her grew with every name she called me. I took a deep breath to replace what I wanted to say with what I should say. “Jane. What’s going on? What do you need money for? I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
“I told you, it’s none of your goddamn business.”
“I’m sorry, then I won’t be able to help you. I can’t just hand cash out to people without a reason. That’s not how it works. But if you want to talk, maybe we can figure something out together.”
My calm tone took some of her edge off. Her foot feverishly tapped under the table. “You know, I try hard not to like your smart ass, but I just can’t help myself.” She turned back around to face me. “If you were just a bitch back to me, I would just leave you alone, but you’re so fucken sweet.” Tears started falling onto the table. “You kinda remind me of Carmen. She was a sweet girl, too.”
I placed my hand on hers. “Oh, Jane, this must be so hard for you. I’m sorry you’re struggling so much.”
Her tears turned to hysterical sobs. As I sat with her, I noticed some track marks on her left arm. When I looked closer to her, I saw the red marks all over her face. I had noticed them before but never put it together. When her sobs quieted, I put my finger on her arm. "Jane, what happened here?"
“What do you think? I donate blood a lot.” She pushed my hand away and wiped her tears with her dirty hands, leaving smear marks on her face.
“Jane. Come on, please be honest with me. When did you start using?”
Her eyes averted mine. “When I was fifteen. But...I don’t do it that often...only when I need to stop the pain, you know?”
“No, Jane, I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t. What do you have to deal with anyway? Your life is perfect. You probably never had to struggle a day in your whole life.”
“That’s not true. Not at all.”
“I don’t need an intervention; I just need some money...I just need to get high one last time.”
“Jane, I can’t give you money to do that. I can help you get some food or even a place to stay, but I can’t buy your drugs.”
“Come on, can’t your boyfriend get me some? I just need a little.”
“He’s a cop, Jane...probably the last person you should be asking for drugs.”
“Oh, come on, that’s where the best stuff comes from.”
“Jane, are you hungry?”
“I don’t give a shit about food. I just need some cash.”
“Come on, let's just get something to eat, please? Then we can go to group together and talk with the others. Maybe they’ll be able to offer some ideas.”
She wouldn't stand up and her body went limp in her chair.
“Oh, come on, where else do you have to go?”
“Yeah, fine, you win.” She stood up and followed me to the cafeteria.
After we got our trays of breakfast, we found a table in the back and sat together. Jane picked at her bacon and scrambled eggs, moving it around the plate more than she ate. She didn't even want coffee; instead, she opted for a bottle of orange juice.
“How do you manage without caffeine? I don’t think I’d make it through the day without coffee.”
“Oh, so now the truth comes out.” She smiled before she continued. “You’re a druggie, too.” She reached out to give me a high five.
Leaving her hand in the air, I said, “Ahh, I think I understand what you were saying now. You know, I never thought about that before, but if I wasn’t able to have coffee, I’d probably go insane.”
She nodded her head as she lowered her hand. With my acknowledgment of understanding, she started eating her breakfast. Her food disappeared quickly and she placed her fork down on her empty plate. "Do you want to go back up for anything else?"
She looked down at her plate and back up at me. “I don’t know the last time I’ve eaten a full meal. I usually don’t have time…or money…and God knows I don’t cook.”
“There’s still time if you’d like more.”
“No, I’m good.”
There was still some time before the others arrived, and I still needed to go to my office to check my messages and emails, but the thought of having Jane downstairs in my office with me still made me uncomfortable. “Jane, when is the last time you saw a doctor?”
"I don't know. It's been a while I guess."
"We have some time before group starts. Would you like to go have an examination? If nothing else, maybe they could help you with something for sleep. And, no need to worry about the cost, I can take care of that."
“Really? You’d want to do that?”
"Yeah, of course. It would be good to see if there is anything they can help you with and you're already here."
Jane followed me to the urgent care unit of the hospital, where I asked her to wait for me while I updated the nurse on duty. As I left the waiting room, they called Jane's name for her appointment. She was exhausting. I never knew what mood she would be in or how I needed to react to her. I made sure to tell the nurse about the marks I saw on Jane's arms and face and warned them not to prescribe anything with a street value. The patient care fund would pay for her bills, but I wouldn't let that fund pay for something that could potentially kill her…or someone else if she decided to sell them.
In my office, the red light on my phone illuminated my dark office as I opened the door. That blinking red light was the one part of my job that never changed; it was the only consistency in my day. Emails were equally predictable; there was always something that needed my attention or a new policy to learn.
The group was only an hour away, giving me just enough time to return the calls waiting for me. After listening to the messages, the only calls I needed to return resulted in an annoying game of phone tag. With the extra time, I logged on to my fake Facebook account and pulled up Jane's page. I wanted to see who Ted was, but there was no Ted listed on her friends list. Scrolling through her page, I didn't see any mention of him or any photos with him, still just the pictures of Seth.
I clicked on Carmen’s Facebook page again to see if she had any friends named Ted, but that came back empty as well. Carmen’s sweet eyes looked back at me as I scrolled through her profile. My heart told me she didn’t take her own life, but there was no evidence…no proof I wasn’t just trusting my gut when I shouldn’t.
In the few minutes I had left, I called Tim. We hadn't talked yet this morning and I wanted to see if he would answer some new questions that came from my morning with Jane.
My call went straight to voicemail. I didn't bother leaving him a message. Instead, I sent him a quick text message with a few sickly sweet emojis. What was I becoming? I always hated those things before, but Tim was changing me, helping me find the pieces of myself I didn't even know I was missing.
I went back to urgent care to retrieve Jane, but she wasn't done with her appointment yet. I went back to see if I could find a nurse to let me know how much longer they needed her. The nurse told me they were going to be admitting her to give her IV antibiotics for a bacterial infection they discovered during her exam. If left untreated, she could die.
I walked into the exam room where Jane was waiting to be transferred to a room and found her crying on the cot. “Hey, Jane, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if I want to stay…but they said I don’t have a choice.”
“You’re extremely sick, Jane. Did they tell you how sick you are?”
“Yeah…the doctor said I have an infection…and I’ll die if I leave…is that true, or is he being dramatic?”
“He’s a great doctor, I’d trust what he says. Besides, you don’t have a safe place to stay right now. This will be good for you. Will you stay, at least for a few days?”
She rolled over onto her side in the cot, pulling her legs up to her chest. “Hmmm…I guess you have a point. It couldn’t hurt to stay…at least until Seth calms down.”
"Seth? I thought you said, Ted?"
She closed her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’m tired. Can you go so I can get some rest?”
I thought it was strange Jane hadn’t mentioned Ted before, and now I knew why…because he didn’t exist. Was Seth the violent one? Or was she lying about that, too? She’s so hard to read. Hot one minute, cold the next. All I wanted was answers. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get them. Not from Jane, anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sonya, Norma, and Maggie were already in the conference room, waiting for me to arrive. They were in the middle of a conversation that went silent when I entered the room. "Sorry I'm late, ladies. I was just with Jane over in Urgent Care."
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