Broken Survivor

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Broken Survivor Page 7

by Jennifer Labelle


  “Puh-lease, it was nothing you did,” Nadia fumed. “That daughter of hers got too good for us as soon as she started high school. She was pulling the attitude way before what happened with your mom. It just took you that long to notice. It’s like she made new friends at her school and suddenly we were trash.” She chugged the rest of her drink. “What do you say we get another one?” She held up her empty cup. “And start having some fun. All of this talking is seriously ruining my buzz.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jules said while draping an arm around her.

  They moved through the party guests and spotted Edgar and Ron in the living room. “Look who’s here,” Holly said, pointing them out. It felt like forever since she’d seen her two friends.

  “Well, of course.” Jules smirked and dragged them over to the boys. “Hey, baby.” She reached up and locked lips with her boy toy, Ron.

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Hey, E, how’ve you been?”

  “Better now that you’re here.” He tugged her forward, and she wrapped her arms around his midsection. “Hey, Nadia, what’s up?” He tilted his head toward her other friend, and Holly could see that Nadia felt like the third wheel. Jules had her guy and Edgar seemed to take a liking to her, leaving Nadia to stand awkwardly in front of the four of them. But things soon became equal when Edgar reached behind him to grab a buddy. “Have you met, John?”

  “Well, hello.” Nadia smirked at John, and they seemed to hit it off, so much so, that she ditched them eventually for some one-on-one time with him.

  A couple hours later Holly had accomplished her goal and was totally sloshed.

  “What time do you have to be home?” Ed asked as he nibbled on her earlobe, giving her goose bumps.

  “By twelve.” She giggled. “Why?”

  “Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re late.” He checked his watch and then showed her the time. It was 12:45 a.m. Damn! “Since you’re already in trouble, how about we push our luck a little bit and go for a ride?”

  “Are you drunk? Because I don’t get into cars with people who have been drinking.”

  The side of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and he held out his cup. “Smell it, baby, I stopped drinking when we met up. It’s just plain old Pepsi. Check it out.”

  Holly sniffed but didn’t trust her instincts, so she interrupted Jules’s make-out session for a second opinion. “Edgar wants to go for a ride and is trying to assure me he hasn’t been drinking. Smell this for me, would you?”

  Jules grabbed the cup and took a big sip. “It’s clean. He’s good to go.”

  “See?” He looked triumphant. “So how about that ride?”

  “Since when did you get a car?”

  “It’s a loaner.” Ron chuckled. “Can we come with?”

  The cool car she was expecting turned out to be a minivan, which she found amusing. “Is this your mother’s car?”

  Edgar shook his head. “Not quite.”

  “We’ve got dibs on the back.” Ron pulled Jules with him to the backseat.

  “Lucky bastard.” Edgar snickered and then turned to her. “Shall we?”

  They were on their way downtown when the gas light turned on, so they pulled into a gas station to fill up.

  It all happened so fast that Holly needed a minute to register what the hell was going on. One minute they were going for a leisurely drive, and the next she was blinking in shock as blue-and-red lights flashed all around them and they were directed to put their hands up. Police swarmed them with guns drawn, yelling for them to each slowly get out of the van.

  “It’s stolen, are you friggin’ kidding me?” Holly raged. “Of all the stupid things to drag me into. You son of a—”

  Holly’s door opened, and an officer dragged her out and frisked her against the side of the vehicle before she could finish reprimanding her so-called friend. Edgar and Ron were fucking idiots.

  “If Ron thinks he’s going to get away with this, he’s got another thing coming. We are so over!” Jules glared in the direction of the cop car the guys sat in.

  Holly groaned. “This is so embarrassing.” She leaned down so that her hair would block her sight of the few onlookers watching the arrest. Talk about a buzzkill.

  Both guys were charged and shipped off to jail to await their chance to see a judge in court. Luckily, because it was a first offense and the cops determined that the girls weren’t involved other than being along for a joy ride, they let them off with a warning. The hardest part of the whole experience for Holly was the phone call to Charlotte to let her know she’d been arrested and needed to be picked up.

  ***

  “Are you kidding me? She doesn’t show up when she’s supposed to, gets arrested, makes you pick her up in the middle of the night, and she gets the right to sleep all day? Ugh!”

  Holly was startled awake by Sierra arguing with her mother before Sierra stomped out of the house, slamming the door behind her. She cringed as the memories from the night before came rushing back.

  Charlotte knocked on her door, then poked her head inside and smiled sheepishly. “I guess you heard that, huh?” She walked in and shut the door softly behind her. “Don’t mind Sierra. You just gave us all a worry last night.”

  “I’m sorry,” Holly whispered. She then recounted everything step by step in her mind and cringed. “I’m mortified, and can assure you this will never happen again.”

  “I certainly hope not. Listen, Holly, I know you’re going through a lot of things right now and it’s hard to process the reality you now live in, but you have people who care about you. I hope you know that.”

  “I do, thank you.”

  “Good. Now you rest up and enjoy the day off, because I’d like you to stay in today and think about things. In the meantime…” Charlotte stood and stretched. “I’m going to go get some errands done and think of another consequence for your actions.”

  ***

  “Hello, Holly, you’re looking well.” Jace motioned for her to take the vacant seat in front of him.

  “Thanks, I guess.” She bit her lip and decided to keep her weekend festivities to herself. She didn’t need the lecture. She already felt bad enough. Lesson learned, big-time.

  “You guess?” He shook his head. “Honestly, Ms. Hewitt, you need to learn how to take a compliment. We’ve got to work on some positive thinking here. When we’re positive and feeling good, it makes us want to succeed and gives us a determination to want to better ourselves, don’t you think?”

  “If you say so.” She shrugged.

  “I do, so…” He got up and clapped. “What do you say we play a game?”

  “What kind of game?” She eyed him warily. “Because that’ll determine whether or not I play along.”

  “Well, for today it’s a word game. I say a few words, and I want you to think of something positive to say about them. It’s easy. For example, if I say February, you could say something like, love, because February is associated with Valentine’s Day, and so on.”

  “Let’s give it a shot, I guess.”

  “Okay, great. So here it goes. June?”

  “Birthday.”

  “Good, now how about books?”

  “An escape.”

  “Sister?”

  “Protector.”

  “Father?”

  “Let’s not go there.” She scowled. “I’m sorry, but there is nothing positive associated with that word for me.”

  He nodded and carried on. “Something we can bring up at a later time. School?”

  “Friends.”

  “Mother?”

  Sadness crossed her face, and she couldn’t keep her answer to one word when it finally came to her. “Beautiful, unconditional love, protector, nurturer, amazing, kind, good, heartfelt, one of a kind, the best—God, I miss her.”

  “Okay, okay, those are some great answers.” He held out his hands and continued with the exercise. “Child?”

  “Sweet.”

  “H
ome?”

  “It used to mean safety once upon a time.” She looked up from fidgeting with her hands and wiped a lone tear away. “At least, when it was just the three of us, it was.”

  “You mean your mother and sister as well as you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “When Christian was around, you never knew what to expect. There’d be good days and bad, horrible times. When he was in jail, or would attempt to go into rehab, it was fantastic. My mom would be at ease, there were no eggshells to walk on, and we spent a lot of quality time together. There were shopping trips, the beach, movies, and Thursday night dinners at Hurley’s Restaurant on the market. You see, they had these awesome specials on the finger foods, and we’d go to town stuffing our faces with nachos, chicken wings, zucchini sticks, and potato skins.” She gave a sad smile. “Things got bad sometimes, but I’d like people to know she did the best that she could with what we had. Every time our dad threw a tantrum she’d throw herself in front of him so my sister and I wouldn’t get hit. She had a great sense of humor and always went out of her way to help those in need. She used to organize trips for the kids in the neighborhood to keep them out of trouble to places like La Ronde in Montreal and stuff. She hosted dances and got the tenants’ association rolling on putting up a new play structure in the park.”

  Holly snorted. “She didn’t even live long enough to see it happen, though they did pay tribute by naming the new park after her because she did so much for the community. Every one of my good memories involved her, and now it seems all I have is the bad.”

  “Your mother sounds like a pretty good person.”

  “She is. Was.” She cleared her throat and swallowed.

  “You certainly have positive memories to carry with you. Why is it I get the feeling you’re trying to defend her?” Jace leaned forward in his seat and waited patiently.

  “Because of the bad memories. I’m always afraid people will get the wrong impression of her just because she made some mistakes. Had low self-esteem or something, hell, I don’t know. You’re put down and beaten enough times, you begin to doubt your self-worth, right? But she protected us. It’s easy to judge when you’re not walking in the other person’s shoes, especially if you’ve never been abused, and she was such a good person. I’m glad she was my mother, and now that she’s gone, I feel like I need to let everyone know about her. It also keeps her memory fresh, because I’m afraid that one day I might forget her.”

  “Why would you think so?”

  “I don’t know, because she’s not here. I was listening to people say things about her at the funeral, and I was like, oh yeah. There were things I’d forgotten already like the quirky way she used to sing to us when we were little, ‘I love you and don’t you for-duh-get it, I love you and don’t you for-duh-get it, baaaaby…’” She sang the short lyrics and put her head down again.

  “Would you like to talk about what happened to her that night?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not today. Please don’t make me.”

  “I would never make you do anything you weren’t comfortable with, Holly. I do hope one day you will trust me enough to open up, though. We’ve had a good day today, and I do think we are making progress. Would you like to finish up the game we started?”

  “Okay.” She felt a bit vulnerable and figured the faster they wrapped up this game, the sooner the session would be over.

  “In ten words or less, describe yourself to me.” Jace leaned back and looked as though he was trying to give her some space while she thought about it.

  “I thought you were giving me words and I would think of one good word to go with it?”

  “Humor me.” He sat up now and encouraged her. “Go on.”

  “I only need one anyway.” Holly squirmed in her chair and rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans. “Broken.”

  “What?” Jace shook his head. “Come on, Holly, you can do better than that. We’re working on positive words right now, and although I can understand why you may feel broken, there are many great qualities about you I can name. But this isn’t about me giving you an answer. I’d like you to give me some instead.”

  “Fine.” She sighed. “I guess I’m a survivor.”

  “Survivor definitely works. It signifies strength, which is a great quality to have.” He exhaled loudly before continuing, “Broken as a word alone sounds pretty negative, but I like the ring to it when you add the word survivor after it. They’re two words you wouldn’t associate with each other normally, but for you, I think it’s a perfect way to describe yourself and how you’re probably feeling. One we’re working on, while the other we’re working to make stronger.”

  “I kind of like it too.” Holly gave him a shy smile.

  “Well, my broken survivor,” Jace teased, “I think this was a great meeting, don’t you? How about we meet again next Friday?”

  ***

  “Hello, is anybody home?” Holly raced up the stairs to see Charlotte. She’d had a great day, and she wanted to tell her about the meeting with Jace. It was a small relief to get a few things off her chest, and she was proud of the baby steps she’d accomplished on the road to feeling better. Her pain was far from over, but she was getting there.

  “I’m in the living room, Holly.”

  “Hey, where is everybody?” She halted as she entered the room, and her smile faltered. “Hello, Lauren, long time no see.” She hadn’t seen her mother’s friend for at least two years, so she bent to give her a quick hug and decided to take a seat. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, you remember our talk the other day, when I told you I was going to think about the consequence of your actions on the weekend?” Charlotte asked.

  “Y-yeah.” She looked between the two ladies in front of her and became confused.

  “Well, we’re worried about you, and I think it might be best if you got away for a while. Sierra hasn’t been very happy, you’ve been getting into some trouble, and I think going to stay with Lauren will be our best option.” Charlotte winced when Holly’s face became an emotionless mask.

  House number fucking five. She’d be damned if she’d let them see her succumb to tears anymore. Good God, please tell me this isn’t happening again. And man, was it ever hard to hide her feelings this time. She was strong, damn it, but she was falling apart too. “I feel like a football. Do you know how that shit feels? To be tossed like that.”

  “I’m sorry, honey.” Lauren reached for her hand. “You can bunk with Shelby until we get the spare room ready, and you can decorate it however you want. So start thinking what colors you’d like for the walls and such. As far as I’m concerned, this’ll be the last move, because I’m looking at this as a long-term thing. I’ve gotten in touch with social services, and I’ve decided to make you a foster child in my home.”

  Holly let out a huge breath, not even realizing she was holding it until Lauren finished. “When do I have to leave this time?”

  “I’ll pick you up on Saturday, so try and enjoy the rest of the week with Charlotte, and we’ll get you settled before you know it.”

  “Sure.” She stood, not wanting to stick around and hurried to the solitude of her temporary room. Not that there’s anything wrong with Lauren or her home, but it sucks having to move again. Why me? Will I ever have the chance to settle down and try to be normal? At this rate, not bloody likely. She felt so lost and alone mindlessly going through life just to get by. Nothing felt right anymore.

  Chapter Six

  Spring of 1995

  Holly opened the door to her bedroom and stretched in the hallway after a refreshing afternoon nap. She could hear her foster parents talking from the dining room in plain view from where she stood, so she turned to wave but froze and straightened her posture when she saw him. Shit!

  He was tall, cute, young, and he stopped talking midsentence to check her out. Way to give a girl notice. I must look like hell, she thought and quickly retreated to the bathroom to do her business.


  She’d been at her foster home for a little while now and was slowly starting to adjust to the strange territory. So far it wasn’t so bad.

  After she had found solitude again in her bedroom, Lauren knocked on the door. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m good.”

  “I was hoping that you would say that. Shelby needs to talk to you. Would you mind meeting her in the living room?” Shelby was Lauren’s youngest daughter.

  “Uh, sure, I’ll be out in a minute.” That was weird. Shelby was a nice person and all, but she was a couple years her senior, and it wasn’t like her to go out of the way to have a conversation, especially with Holly.

  When she stepped out of her bedroom, the guy was still standing in the same spot talking with Andrew, Lauren’s husband, and she’d caught sight of his big brown eyes as he took a curious glance in her direction again. He looked to be about Chrystal’s age. At almost six feet tall, he had messy hair that one just itched to tame. It was a little curly and so dark brown, it looked black. He had a trim, athletic body, a gorgeous olive complexion, and wore his jeans snug in all the right places. But who was he?

  She tore her eyes away from his as she saw her foster sister on the couch. “Hey, Shelby, what’s up?”

  “Nothing much, have a seat.” She gestured to the chair across from her. “It’s all right, Hol, take a deep breath. You’re stiff as a board.” She waited a moment as Holly sat down and studied her. “Better now?”

  Holly nodded. She’d been having anxiety problems for years, and sometimes getting control of her nerves was hard, especially when she felt as though she was on the spot. Like right then. The air would become thick, and her breathing turned heavier, as though there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. Her hands would shake, and on the odd occasion she would pass out.

  “Good, because I just wanted to know if you noticed the guy over there.”

  Her gaze automatically turned in his direction again. Yeah, she’d checked him out and liked what she saw, but she didn’t have a clue who he was and didn’t really care to find out, either. Dating was last on her list of priorities. It never really crossed her mind much, considering how her screwed-up life distracted her on a constant basis. She didn’t have the luxury to be a normal, carefree kid anymore. Losing her mother would have been horrible under any circumstances, but the way it had happened, how it happened, with what she’d seen was beyond horrific. It was definitely something she’d never fully recuperate from.

 

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