Coming Home

by Priscilla Glenn

  “It really does look beautiful,” he said, adjusting the knot of his tie.

  “What does?” she asked softly.

  “The necklace.”

  She brought her hand up to it as he added, “And I meant what I said last night.”

  Leah’s eyes found his in the mirror as her lips curved into a delicate smile. “I know you did.”

  His eyes held hers for a moment before he returned her smile, and then he took a deep breath. “Okay then. Ready?”

  Of course she wasn’t. She wasn’t anything close to resembling ready. But she nodded up at him, and he ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek before he reached to grab his wallet from the dresser. He turned back to her then, handing her his keys.

  “You want me to drive your car?” she asked, glancing down at them.

  “No, I’m giving these to you to hold on to. Jake will be by at some point tomorrow to get my car.”

  Leah froze. Jake would be coming to get his car. Because after today…

  “Okay,” she managed softly, taking the keys and turning from him quickly as she walked to the jewelry box on the other side of the room, depositing them there as she tried to compose herself.

  “Is there enough gas in your car to get down there today?”

  “Mm-hm,” she said with her back to him, pretending to look for something in her jewelry box.

  It was quiet for a beat before he spoke softly. “Alright,” he said, and then she felt his hand on her back for a second before he continued past her and out of the bedroom.

  Leah exhaled heavily and closed her eyes; it took several minutes and quite a few deep breaths before she was sure she was in control of herself, and then she opened her eyes and grabbed her purse before following him out of the room.

  The ride to the courthouse was spent in pensive silence. There was nothing left to say—nothing they didn’t already know about each other’s feelings—and so they both remained quiet, preparing themselves for what lay ahead.

  Leah kept her hand on the armrest, gripping it tightly. Because if she released it, she knew she would lose her grip on everything—she would be dragged into the whirlpool swirling around her, and it would suck away her composure and her sense of direction and her breath and her sanity.

  Danny parked the car and they walked to the courthouse hand in hand; externally, Leah was poised and composed, but inside she could feel herself falling to pieces with every step toward that building.

  The place where he was going to be taken away from her.

  Unconsciously, she tightened her grip on his hand, and when he felt it, he turned his head to look at her. She kept her eyes forward, afraid of what her expression might reveal if she looked at him now.

  As they neared the steps, Danny stopped abruptly, tugging on her hand so that she was forced to turn and face him. She knew her eyes were glassy as she looked up at him, but this time she couldn’t turn her gaze away.

  “Before we go in there,” he said, his voice low and somewhat rough, “I just want to tell you that I love you. And I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Danny,” she started, and he shook his head, silencing her as he brought his mouth to hers.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, Leah knew this was their last kiss.

  She melted into him, allowing herself to feel everything: his lips, his breath, his body against hers, his hands on her waist.

  And then, too soon, he was pulling away from her.

  “Okay,” she heard him say to himself as he took her hand again, and then he inhaled deeply as he turned to walk up the stairs.

  The second they walked through the double doors into the vast lobby, it felt as though her mind detached from her body. She knew she was physically there, seeing things and hearing things, but none of it registered. None of it felt real.

  It was like she was watching the entire scene from outside herself.

  She recognized Danny’s lawyer in the vestibule as he approached them, reaching out to shake Danny’s hand. He said a brief hello to Leah, and she couldn’t even be sure if she responded.

  “We need to meet for a minute before we go inside,” Danny said, his voice muted through the rush of blood in her ears.

  She nodded weakly, and Danny’s lawyer directed her toward the courtroom where she could wait for them. Leah approached the doors in a daze, and for a moment, she just stood there, frozen and completely overwhelmed.

  And then she saw her. The lifeline she so desperately needed.

  Catherine.

  She was sitting in the front row behind the tiny wall that separated the rest of the room from the judge’s bench, and it was as if she sensed Leah’s desperate need to feel grounded. As soon as Leah noticed her, Catherine turned, making eye contact with her as she stood in the doorway.

  And then she smiled sadly, reaching her hand out to Leah.

  She practically ran to her, clutching her hand as she sat beside her, and when Leah felt Catherine rest her head against her shoulder, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips together as her chin quivered.

  “We’re gonna be strong for him today,” Catherine whispered. “He doesn’t need to worry about us.”

  Before Leah could even process her words, she sensed movement in front of them, and she opened her eyes. Jake was crouched in front of Catherine, with Tommy standing behind him.

  “How you doing, Gram?” Jake asked gently, and Catherine shrugged, a weak smile trembling on her lips.

  Jake leaned forward and kissed her cheek before he stood, turning toward Leah. She was vaguely aware of Tommy whispering something to Catherine as Jake leaned down to hug her. “No matter what happens today, everything’s gonna be okay,” he said against her ear before he straightened, smiling sadly at her before he turned and walked into the row of seats behind them.

  A few minutes later, Leah heard the sound of the doors opening again, and she turned to see her father, brother, and sister taking their seats in the back. Her father made eye contact with her, a comforting look in his eyes as he blew her a kiss, and she smiled softly before turning back around.

  Danny’s mother and sister were also there, sitting in the middle row. Leah had met them briefly at Danny’s apartment during one of the days they’d spent cleaning it. They had come by to pick up some things they were going to store for him, and although they seemed nice enough, she could see there was definitely a distance between them and Danny. She had known he wasn’t close to his family, but it was still such a strange thing for her to witness.

  He had a family, she reminded herself. It just wasn’t his own. Wasn’t that what he’d told her?

  A few minutes later, there was a murmuring and shuffling in the back of the room, and Leah turned to see Danny walking up the aisle with his lawyer beside him. His face was stoic and serene, and while that should have reassured her, it only served to make her feel sick.

  They walked past the small wall and up to the table in front of the judge’s bench, taking their seats. Immediately, his lawyer leaned over and began speaking to Danny in hushed tones, and every so often, he would nod slightly in response.

  Catherine’s grip on Leah’s hand tightened suddenly, and Leah glanced up to see the judge walking out from a doorway along the far wall. Everyone was asked to rise, and the judge—a middle-aged man with glasses and dark, thinning hair—approached the bench and took his seat, prompting the rest of them to follow.

  From outside herself, Leah watched as he opened folders and shuffled papers, and after what seemed like an eternity, he lifted his head and spoke.

  “The state of New York versus Daniel DeLuca, docket number 11D-773492. At this time I will ask Mr. DeLuca to please rise.”

  Leah’s heart thudded in her chest as Danny stood.

  “Mr. DeLuca, it is the court’s understanding that rather than have a trial in this case, you are submitting a plea of no contest to one count of aggravated assault, and one count of voluntary manslaughter, both felony charges. Is this correct?”

/>   “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you understand the charges that are being brought against you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The judge shuffled a few more papers before he lifted one, adjusting his glasses. “Mr. DeLuca, the court is satisfied that intent to kill was not present in this case. Based on information given by the officers on the scene, as well as witness statements and your own testimony, there is sufficient evidence that provocation was a factor. My condolences for the loss of your friend.”

  Leah felt Catherine’s shoulder shake against hers, and she knew she was stifling her tears. She gave Catherine’s hand a squeeze, keeping her eyes on the judge as she tried to read his expression.

  His eyes were completely impassive, giving away nothing of his thoughts.

  “Taking into consideration the facts of the case and the plea agreement that was reached, at this time the court declares the defendant guilty on both counts of aggravated assault and voluntary manslaughter.”

  Leah’s throat was constricting, making it difficult to take a full breath, and she swallowed hard, staring at the judge as he shuffled a few more papers.

  “Mr. DeLuca, you have taken responsibility for your actions and shown remorse for your crime. The court recognizes that you reached out to the victim’s family and paid the hospital bills and funeral costs of your own accord.”

  Her eyes flashed to the back of Danny’s head, immediately flooding with tears. He’d never told her that.

  “The court also recognizes that you have had no prior convictions or arrests, and that you’re in good standing in your community. Taking into consideration all factors, and in accordance with the terms of the plea agreement, I’m sentencing you to twenty-one months in the Federal Correctional Institution at Fort Dix…”

  Leah’s ears started ringing, a strange humming sound that blended with the droning voice of the judge until there was nothing but white noise in her head. She vaguely registered him saying something about a fine and anger management classes before the buzzing in her ears took over.

  Leah felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder from behind, either Jake or Tommy, as an officer approached Danny, bringing his hands behind his back and cuffing them.

  Her vision blurred and she felt as if she were going to pass out.

  And then he was being led away from them, and Leah lurched forward in her seat, gripping the divider in front of her.

  WAIT.

  The word was thrashing around wildly in her head, but she couldn’t make her mouth say it. She needed to do something—to say something to him—to touch him one more time.

  Just before Danny walked through the doors, he turned and looked in their direction. It was a split second, but in that moment, his eyes conveyed everything.

  Love. Remorse. Reassurance. Bravery.

  And then he turned, walking through the doorway with a cop on either side of him. The door swung closed behind them, and the sharp click resounded through the room, erasing all the other sounds swirling in her ears and leaving an unsettling silence behind it.

  Catherine clutched at her, and Leah turned and wrapped her arms around the woman who had raised Danny.

  As her frail, trembling hands gripped the sides of Leah’s blouse, a desperate, broken wail cut through the silence, and Leah couldn’t be sure if it was Catherine’s or hers.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Danny knew he should be overcome with excitement right now. He should be envisioning what it was going to be like to have Leah in front of him again. Leah wrapped in his arms, laughing as he buried his face in her hair. The lilting sound of her voice as she assured him she was okay. That everyone was okay.

  That he was going to be okay.

  But so much had happened since he’d last seen her in that courtroom, and he just couldn’t reconcile that fantasy with his reality anymore. That sort of daydream didn’t belong here. It seemed too far-fetched, too unrealistic.

  And idealism was a childish indulgence in this place.

  For the first ten days after his arrival, Danny hadn’t been able to speak to anyone on the outside. Upon entering the facility, he had been told he wouldn’t have access to the phone lines or computers until his inmate account was set up; they said it would be activated shortly, and he had believed them.

  He should have realized then how disgustingly naïve he was.

  Apparently, a ten-day wait was something to be grateful for; there were guys who claimed to have waited twice that long for their accounts to be activated. But hearing that information didn’t provide Danny with any consolation. It only made him angrier.

  Ten fucking days.

  Ten days to program someone’s name into a computer. Ten days of knowing the people he loved were panicking over not having heard from him. Ten days of the walls closing in by the hour.

  An interminable wait, simply to prove he was at their mercy. That he was just a number now. That his suffering meant nothing to anyone in charge.

  On the fifth day, his cellmate Troy had offered to call Danny’s family to let them know he was waiting on his account to be set up.

  Danny hadn’t been allowed to go inside the call room, and the knowledge that Troy was a few feet away with Leah’s voice in his ear was almost more unbearable than the first five days put together. When Troy returned, he told Danny she had appreciated the call and promised she’d pass the message along.

  He wanted to ask how she had sounded. If she’d been crying. If she’d asked any questions about him. If she’d seemed relieved, or sad, or angry. He wanted to ask Troy to repeat every single thing she had said to him verbatim so Danny could memorize it.

  But instead he had nodded and went back to his cell.

  Troy’s call home should have provided him with some level of relief, but the next five days were somehow more excruciating than the first. The need to connect with someone from home had become a living thing, twisting and churning and clawing at his insides until it could be sated.

  The first time Danny had been allowed to call Leah, his rush to explain the visiting instructions had overshadowed the brief respite brought on by her voice. Danny had been required to provide the Bureau of Prisons with a list of potential visitors, and in turn, each person would receive a packet in the mail. As soon as the forms were completed and sent back, the BOP would conduct a background check and either approve or deny the applicants. Danny would receive word when the process was complete, and then anyone who had received clearance would be permitted to visit.

  He had also explained that his phone use was restricted to fifteen minutes a day with a cap of three hundred minutes per month, and that within those restrictions, he would have to divide his time between Gram, Jake, Tommy, and his family. Leah had told him not to worry, that she understood they wouldn’t be able to speak every day.

  And then their conversation was cut off.

  Fifteen minutes up. No warning. No countdown. Just a click, and then nothing.

  He’d spent the rest of that day feeling completely unnerved instead of gratified.

  He tried to be more aware of the time after that, but it was surprisingly easy to get lost within the confines of fifteen minutes. It happened almost every phone call—the abrupt disconnection when his time was up—and each time was just as unsettling as the first.

  The ability to end a phone call with “good-bye” was a suddenly a luxury, something he hadn’t even anticipated losing because it was such a basic fundamental of life, he’d never even given it a second thought.

  So many simple, every day privileges—gone.

  He shouldn’t have been as shaken by this place as he was. Danny’s life had been far from easy, but he had always taken pride in his resiliency; never once had he succumbed to adversity. Never once did he give in to the struggle.

  But in his life before this, there had always been something to throw his energy into. Some distraction. Some way for him to expend his suffering.


  Here, there was nothing.

  He had enrolled himself in classes, but they only occupied ninety minutes of his day. He checked books out of the library, but he couldn’t digest any of the words. Maybe it was because his thoughts were the only thing they couldn’t put restrictions on, but Danny found himself perpetually lost in his own mind.

  He had no idea it could be such an ugly place.

  Thoughts would creep in uninvited, wafting in as sinuously as smoke and choking him just as quickly: Jake making a poor decision that would cause the business to go under; Leah growing bitter and resentful—seeking solace in another man’s arms; Gram getting sick and dying before he was released.

  Various horrors would flash through his mind like a slide show, over and over until he couldn’t reason through them anymore. He couldn’t determine what was real and what was fabricated, what was speculative and what was a guarantee.

  Three weeks. Eighty-eight more to go.

  He had no idea if this was part of the transition or if it would always be this way. Maybe his mind would eventually run out of nightmares. Maybe he’d just grow numb to them.

  Or maybe his thoughts would wear him down until he couldn’t remember who he was before this.

  His lawyer had told him this place would be tolerable. Since the judge hadn’t deemed Danny a danger to society, part of the plea agreement stated he could serve his sentence in a minimum-security prison, and Danny had lost count of how many times his lawyer assured him minimum-security prisons were more like dormitories than correctional facilities.

  He wished he’d never heard that goddamn comparison—or at least that he hadn’t been foolish enough to believe it.

  There was nothing tolerable about this place. Nothing uplifting. Nothing redeeming. Nothing but the torturously unhurried passing of time.

  He didn’t give a shit if there were no barbed-wire fences surrounding the property. It didn’t change the fact that he was living his life away from everything and everyone who mattered to him. That he didn’t even feel like his own person anymore. That every move he made had to be approved. Every decision, every step he took had to be sanctioned by authority.