Mutual Release

by Liz Crowe

  She and Jack laughed their way through a long lunch and then parted ways. He gave her a fierce hug before she got in her car. “You are something special, you know that, ya bitch?”

  “Yeah, I do know. Now stop being such a pussy and go get your woman.”

  “Whatever.” He waved as he walked away.

  She frowned and picked up her phone, needing to hear Evan’s voice.

  “Hey,” he answered almost immediately. “Missing me?”

  Julie felt her face split into a lunatic-level grin. She missed him so much it was actual physical pain, could hardly sleep without him cradling her in his arms, and the last few nights the terror had come back. The nightmare of being alone and abused with no one on her side – a confusing and scary mix of old memory, but she never went near enough to deal with it, choosing instead to jump up, go for a run, and ignore it until it left her alone in the busyness of her day.

  She took a breath. “Of course. But actually wanted to let you know your boyfriend Jack just took me to lunch. He is losing it. Why won’t he and Sara just stop all this bullshit and get it together?”

  “You got me, babe. He was burned once, as you know. But that was a long time ago. I never imagined he would have such a hard time making a real emotional connection. They are prefect together. But in a way that’s a little alarming to them both, I think. Sounds like another couple I know.”

  She closed her eyes. “Evan, I’m… um, I got the divorce. From James.” She gazed out into the busy parking lot, biting her lip.

  There was a long moment of quiet on his end but it wasn’t tense. It was just… Evan. She was used to it by now. “Okay,” he said, and the noises behind him faded. “And so that means what, exactly?”

  “It means, Mister Obtuse, I… I want to, you know…” The silence stretched out. She blew out a puff of air and tried not to lose her temper, again. “I hate it when you do that,” she whispered, leaning her head against the car window. He maintained his vigil, letting her stew a few more minutes. “God damn it.” She flopped back, feeling a trickle of sweat form between her breasts.

  “You don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for, Julie,” he said, his infernal calm making her ire rise.

  She gulped it back. “Don’t patronize me, Francis.”

  “Don’t use your safe word when you don’t need it.” His low bedroom voice made her face flush.

  She cursed him but sensed the goofy-ass smile spread over her face again. “Let’s get married, Country Club. What d’ya say? Make our illegitimate cat all legal and shit.”

  He laughed long enough to make her nervous, then pissed.

  “I’m so glad you find my request amusing.” She stared at the giant ring, her throat tightening. “Jerk.” But she kept smiling.

  “I’ll think about it. Not sure I’m… you know ready for that last step yet.”

  “You are an ass. I don’t know why I tolerate you.” She put the key in the ignition, felt the powerful motor roar to life, hitting the phone icon on the steering wheel, and loving the sound of his strong reassuring voice filling the interior of her car.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s the way I can make you orgasm.” He chuckled.

  “Yeah, that’s a big part of your charm for sure.” She put the car in gear and joined the line to exit the parking lot. “That and you don’t mind folding laundry. Oh, and your giant cock. I have my standards you know.”

  “I remember, size queen. Listen, how about you come out here for the last weekend of this thing? I heard about a club… we could… discuss the un-discussable – the date of a wedding.”

  She frowned. “You know I can’t leave right now. This takeover thing is – ”

  “I know, I know. Thought I could distract you with my – ”

  “Giant cock?” She smiled when he laughed again. Dear Lord, she loved him. “I’m gonna want a huge, over-the-top wedding, you know. Expensive. Exclusive. Black tie. Dripping with flowers and prime rib dinner reception, oh, and a live band, I’m thinking the Foo Fighters.”

  “Your wish, my love. All I ask is we keep one thing in mind.”

  “What’s that, Country Club?” A sudden light feeling in her chest made her smile again.

  “When they ask you the question, the one you are supposed to answer ‘I do’ to, you don’t freak out and run off. It’s a bit of a recurring nightmare I have.”

  “Let’s see… I’ll practice, how about that? And you should call Jack. He looks like shit. I’m a little worried about him.”

  “Maybe you should call Sara. You guys would get along pretty well, I think.”

  “Maybe.” She sat at a red light, ready to jump back on the interstate towards her office. “I love you.”

  “I know you do. Sure I can’t convince you to play hooky this weekend? I’m guessing we can find all sorts of mischief to get into out here.”

  “Ah, you’re just horny.”

  “Yeah. And you’re not?”

  “I’m busy. I am a very important businesswoman. But yeah, I’m horny.”

  “So, pull over. I’ll talk you through one.”

  Her face flushed, and her entire body went on instant alert at his tone. “Save it for tonight.”

  “Whatever. But I’m gonna have to wait a while to walk back into the conference. My huge cock is making an embarrassing show of itself. Hang on a sec, I got a call from… oh, it’s Mom’s nurse. I’ll call you right back.”

  Julie hung up, floored the accelerator, and waited for him to call again. She loved the man, there was no doubt about that. But the “next level” beyond the one they currently occupied still made her more than a little anxious. She wanted him back home, truth be told. With her, at night, so those dreams would leave her alone. It was annoying the piss out of her, especially now when she was trying to get Dawson Associates over this hump in the road. She had no time or patience for things like wedding plans, or any other nonsense.

  But Jack was right. Evan wanted it, and she did too. Time to stop making excuses which were sounding stale even to her. She took a deep breath. Time to grow up, Julie. Make the plans and walk down the aisle. Quit your lame-ass stalling. But she wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted a huge wedding. Her mind was already turning to thoughts of hiring a planner, videographer, and florist when Evan called back. Dread settled in her chest like a heavy stone at the sound of his frantic voice.

  “It’s Mom. She fell. They think she had a stroke. She’s at U of M. Julie, can you please go? I know how busy you are, but…”

  “I’m headed there now. It will be fine. I’ll call you as soon as I talk to a doctor.” She exited the freeway and turned around, pointed the car back towards Ann Arbor as she spoke.

  “I’m on my way to the airport so leave a message if I don’t answer. And thanks.”

  “Of course, Evan. I… I love you. It will be all right.”

  “I know you do. And I hope you’re right.”

  By the time she’d driven all the way to Ann Arbor and arrived at the sprawling University hospital complex, it was nearly four o’clock. She jumped out of her car, tossed her keys to a valet, and marched into the emergency room, thinking it was as good a place as any to start. After nearly thirty minutes of bullshit red tape, she had a visitor’s badge and was making her way up and over to the Intensive Care Unit where Amanda Adams lay with a broken hip, a black eye from hitting the edge of her dresser, and likely a concussion.

  Julie strong-armed her way in, insisting she was the woman’s daughter-in-law, flashing her giant ring around, and telling all within earshot her husband would be here as soon as he could get back from the West Coast. The words “husband” and “daughter-in-law” felt so right; she was even more resolved to take action to make those words fact, the second she could.

  As soon as she sat next to the tiny woman covered in monitors, with a bandage around her head, she had a spooky feeling, like she was being watched. She glanced over her shoulder but the only activity at the glass window was of me
dical personnel scurrying around. She took Amanda’s cold hand, held it, patted it, and started talking.

  She told her everything, all about how she and Evan met, how he’d dragged her better self kicking and screaming out of the hard bitchy shell she’d encased herself in for so many years. Leaving out the more explicit methods he’d used to do that, she admitted to the unconscious woman Evan still struggled with anger over Damian, guilt about Olivia, and frustration with his mother and her willingness to let the whole thing happen right under her nose. Finally, unable to think of a single thing more and willing the woman to open her eyes so Evan would not have to sit here and communicate with her like this, Julie put her head down on the side of the bed and cried.

  Suddenly, a sick wash of memory crashed through her brain, inexorable and terrifying, like tidal waves she couldn’t outrun. One in particular kept chasing her. The hospital smell – it was familiar, somehow. The memories piled in; the dam broke.

  It started with the police station where she’d had the first confrontation with her mother, who stood next to the man who’d raped her own daughter and accused her, the daughter, of “making it all up.” The cops had insisted on having a rape kit done at a hospital. Amy had held her hand while the doctor examined her and confirmed she had had sex within the last twenty hours, and she showed signs of past abuse.

  Julie stood, unable to stand the odors another minute, and stumbled out to find a restroom. She sat, trembling, on the floor of the bathroom and pushed it away, shoved it all back down under a solid layer of denial. She rinsed out her mouth, splashed water on her cheeks, and ran fingers through her hair. Her face was pale, her eyes red, and as she stared hard at herself she realized there was something yet buried in her that she had to face. And that being in this hospital was likely to be the catalyst. Would her own drama never cease?

  A knock on the door made her jump. “Mrs. – um… Adams?” She smiled at the sound of that. She needed Evan. Required him to be here, with his arms around her, his lips against her ear, telling her everything would be okay. She would marry him tomorrow if that’s what he wanted – anything to hide from the terror enveloping her, the dread creeping up her spine about this whole scenario.

  “Yes, sorry.” She opened the door and let the nurse guide her back to the ICU bed where Evan’s mother lay, her eyes open and blinking in the bright lights.

  “She just regained consciousness and seems very cognizant of her surroundings. She keeps asking for you, though.”

  “Me?” Julie watched as nurses fussed around the woman’s IV line, checked her vital signs.

  “Yes, well, she keeps calling you her daughter. But the information from the memory care center says she only has a son, so we just figured…”

  Julie gulped and went in, sat, and took the woman’s frail hand. Amanda smiled at her.

  “Olivia, darling, thank you for coming.”

  Julie took a deep breath. “No, Mrs. Adams. It’s Julie. Olivia is dead.”

  “Oh.” Amanda seemed to deflate at that. The nurse shot Julie a sharp look as she made some notes on a computer nearby.

  “Yes, and Evan is on his way. He’ll be here very soon. I promise.”

  “Okay.” The woman’s eyes narrowed, her gaze seemed to sharpen. She turned her head and stared at Julie, obviously working hard to sort out where she was and what was happening. “I fell, I think.” She touched the bandage on her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a tear fell from one. Julie gripped her hand harder. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember you. I can’t remember anything. No matter how hard I try.”

  Julie kept holding onto her hand but had no words. The nurse bustled out. As soon as the door clicked shut, Amanda looked back over at Julie. “I heard what you told me,” she said, surprising Julie with the clarity of her words. “And I want you to know something.”

  She lay back, staring up at the ceiling again. “I will never forgive myself for what happened to Olivia. How I let that… that… boy ruin her. I let him ruin me too, in a way. He came between me and my own son. Not that our relationship was great to start with, thanks to my own half-assed parenting. But… I didn’t believe anything Evan told me. I chose to believe Damian instead. I don’t know why.” Another tear slid down her cheek. “Evan is so very special. He still takes care of me. He always has. Even though I don’t deserve it.”

  Julie started to speak. But Amanda kept talking, her voice getting stronger with every word. “You saved him, though. You made him happy for the first time in his life. Truly happy.” She turned to face Julie, her face set in a way Julie would bet looked so much like her old, sometimes organized, always bossy self that Evan would be shocked. “Get married. Make him a father. Evan will be the best dad a child could ever want.”

  “He says he doesn’t want kids,” Julie blurted out, surprised at herself. “I mean… um, I don’t either… really.” She bit her lip.

  Amanda’s eyes sharpened even further. “Of course you do, my dear. The most wonderful thing you can ever do for a man you truly love is bear his child. Don’t let him convince you otherwise. He’s still hiding behind guilt and fear. You can bring him out of it. Complete him. With a baby.”

  She backed up staring at Evan’s mother as the woman held her gaze. When she hit the wall, she slid down, crouching on her ankles. The overwhelming odors of sick, injured, dying people was suffocating her. She had to get out of here. But Evan needed her to stay until he arrived.

  She took deep breaths, tried not to pass out, but the memory floodgates were open now, and there was no stopping the onrush. The efficient doctor, his freezing cold, sometimes rough touch, the eyes of the nurse who stood on her other side while her friend Amy held her hand. It hurt – what Bart had done to her had damaged her, badly. She’d cried, softly, until she saw him. Her mother had the nerve to let that rapist into her space in the hospital.

  When Julie had spotted him she had screamed so loudly the entire hospital floor came running. The cop outside her room had arrested him, but he had plenty of lawyers who had him freed within hours pending “investigation of the allegations.” But the hospital called protective services, and Julie had been allowed to live with Amy’s family as an emancipated minor the rest of her senior year. She barely remembered it all. Until this second. She had not spoken to her mother since then.

  “Julie,” Amanda said. “Come up here, honey. Hold an old woman’s hand a minute.”

  She got to her feet, shaky and in the grip of remembered pain and horror so fresh it was as if it had just happened to her. She made her slow way across the small room, sat, took Amanda’s hand.

  “Tell him all of it.”

  Julie nodded, biting her lip.

  “I mean it. My boy will take care of you. If you let him.” Her eyes fluttered. “I’m so tired. Wake me up when he gets here, okay?”

  Julie watched as she dropped into a deep sleep. The monitors kept up their beeping, no alarms went off. So she got up and wandered out into the hall, feeling as if she were a different person, one who finally remembered all of her life. As shitty as that was, thanks to the mother of her fiancé who was slowly losing all of her memory.

  She slumped against the wall, waved away a nurse who asked if she needed anything. After locating the waiting room, she dropped into a chair and succumbed to the mental fatigue she’d been fighting for weeks and fell sound asleep.

  Chapter Three

  Evan arrived by three the next morning, exhausted and disheveled from a long series of connecting flights. Julie was there, with Jack, who’d shown up at midnight with food. He was asleep on a waiting room couch when Evan had made it up to the ICU floor and stumbled into Julie’s arms.

  “Hurry,” she said. “She wants to see you.”

  His mother had had a series of small strokes, but remained surprisingly lucid. As she instructed them about their responsibility to bring her grandbabies as soon as possible, Evan tensed up, until Julie put a hand on his arm and smiled, sending him a “humor her” vibe. Hi
s mother mentioned Damian once, telling Evan he had made her sign some papers. Evan sat by her side, holding her hand and told her he’d tracked down the documents and had them declared void due to her mental state. The guy had honestly thought he could get Amanda to declare him her heir. The situation had been sorted out long ago, he assured her.

  Finally, at about seven, she’d declared herself too tired to talk anymore and shooed them out of the room. By nine a.m. her heart had stopped. Evan had not signed a do not resuscitate order, but all the efforts the medical team made would not bring her back.

  He watched, clutching Julie’s hand, his eyes dry. He turned to her when they declared the time of death. “You are all I have now,” he said, his voice firm.

  “I know,” she said, holding him close. His heart pounded with terror at being so utterly alone. Until he allowed Julie’s arms and her quiet words to soothe him, reminding him that he was not.

  “What else is wrong?” he’d demanded at one point, sensing her tension that had nothing to do with his own family drama.

  She told him the rape kit story, and he absorbed it, the small compartment of fury labeled “Julie’s past” filling up to overflowing once more.

  “Okay,” he whispered, as she cried into his shirt. “It’s all going to be okay now.” As he watched the medical team leave his mother’s room, he realized he was saying it as much to himself as he was to Julie.

  Amanda Adams saved two lives with her kidneys that day. Evan had her cremated and planned a memorial service with Julie’s help. And now, he found himself staring at the container of his mother’s remains, unable to quell a rising anger at her, at Julie, at himself – none of which he could explain. So he sat alone and spoke to a few of his mother’s and father’s friends who’d sit next to him. Leaving the rest of the room for Julie and Jack to manage, he kept still, trying not to lose it.

  At one point Jack sat next to him for a few minutes until Julie tapped his shoulder and pulled him away. But Evan hardly registered it. He knew this was part of the process and he would snap out of it, but right now he had never felt more bereft and alone.