Jillian is none worse for the wear. Apparently after Claudia “kidnapped” her, she dropped her off at a mutual friend’s house. After Derek paid the ransom, the police were directed to the friend’s house to pick up Jillian. The poor woman had absolutely no idea what was going on when the cops swarmed her property with lights and sirens. They arrested her, but eventually let her go a short time later when the true story came out and it became clear that the friend had no idea that ransom was being paid for Jillian’s release. Jillian was fascinated with the lights and riding in the back of the police car, but didn’t experience any trauma whatsoever, thank God.
Roger, dear Roger (yes, I actually wrote that), was so distressed by the idea of losing me (again) that he spent the entire first week of my recovery waiting on me hand and foot. He took the children to their activities (enlisting the help of Beth and my mother, too, but he made all the arrangements). He made sure everyone had dinner so I never had to hobble into the kitchen to stand at the stove. Well, he cooked once and then the pity casseroles came rolling in from neighbors and friends, but he did go to the grocery store for beverages and snacks. He called six times and texted me fifteen times while in the supermarket with things like, “where do they keep the apples”, “milk costs how much???” and “what should I do if I drop the eggs?” He also spent about $250 more than I would have because he apparently does not understand the concept of coupons or sales. But whatever…at least we didn’t have eat the stale cheese nips that have been sitting in the back of the pantry for six months.
The novelty apparently wore off after six and a half days of total devotion (also, his fall break was over and he needed to go back to work and he was not able to work full time and function as a mother…hmmm). It was then that Beth swooped in and took over. She brought me new outfits and cupcakes from the trendy boutique bakery in her neighborhood. I got a brand new flat screen TV with built in Blue Ray player for my bedroom (we never had a TV in our room and I probably will never use it, but Beth doesn’t have to know that). Not only did she send me to an expert plastic surgeon to fix my nose (which was most certainly broken), she had her dentist fit me with a new veneer at no charge to my insurance. She fawned over me and had a “cosmetologist” come in to do my hair and make-up. Yes, I was disappointed to discover that a cosmetologist was not an expert in cosmos and would not be mixing me drinks, but it was nice that she made such an effort to cheer me up.
I realize that most of the reason that Beth was showering me with gifts and affection was to ease the overwhelming sense of guilt that she undoubtedly felt, but still, it was nice to have that attention. Especially since she sat with me most days and we actually talked; about books and movies and dreams and goals and what it was like to grow up in our family. I never realized what pressure my parents had put on her to be perfect; I always assumed it came naturally to her. We laughed, we cried, we hugged.
I’m sorry that Kevin died. I’m sorry that Beth cheated on Derek. I’m sorry that Claudia schemed. But, I realize as I turn the key in the ignition of my brand new BMW that Beth bought me…ok, I’m making that up. I would never let my sister buy me a car, no matter how much she screwed up as much as I hate this blasted minivan. I did let her send it to be cleaned and detailed which amounted to twelve seconds of pristine niceness as Evan dumped a bowl of goldfish and ground it into the floor mats in that short period of time. I probably could have vacuumed it up but then Colt put his muddy cleats on the back of the seat and all hope was lost. I didn’t even bother from that point on.
As sorry as I am that those adults behaved badly and their fate was less than rosy, I’m not sorry about what happened to me. I don’t think I would have changed any of it from my stand point. Even having the bones in my foot crushed and my nose broken (I do love my new nose by the way) because it taught my husband to appreciate my role in the household and it brought my sister and me closer together, both of which I never thought to be possible.
I also realized as much as I enjoy an adventure, how it breaks up my monotonous life, I don’t need to head off into the scary and uncertain world of the police force to have a fulfilled life. I discovered I can write about my life or even a made up life and have an even bigger (and safer) high than I would get tracking down criminals and bringing them to justice. I can script my own justice anyway I’d like. If people commit sins (like Seven Deadly ones), I can let my characters get away with murder or I can see that they are punished accordingly. I can be a mom without sacrificing time with my kids. I am there for them when they need me to be, but I have the escape of my writing when I need that, too. And let me tell you that suit this mom to a T.
Heather Balog is a school nurse by day, supermom and writer by night. She lives in New Jersey with her husband, children, two very needy dogs, and one ancient cat. When she is not writing, she’s thinking about writing, reading, or tending to the needs one of the aforementioned people or pets. Or beating her husband and children at Trivia Crack…
Other novels by Heather Balog:
The 8 Mistakes of Amy Maxwell
All She Ever Wanted
Letters to My Sister’s Shrink
Note to Self: Change the Locks
Falling When the Bough Breaks
Connecting with Heather Balog:
Heather blogs at:
www.thebadmommydiaries.com
Like her Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/HeatherBalogsBooksBlogBacktalk
Follow her on Twitter:
@Badmommydiaries
Amy Maxwell & the 7 Deadly Sins (The Amy Maxwell Series Book 2) Page 23