Chapter 4
“When is your mother coming back?” Evie’s neighbor, Linda Headley, asked.
“She should be back the day after tomorrow. She went to San Diego to visit her sister.” Evie said this as she was preoccupied. She was more focused on Jamie, who was practicing some sort of karate moves on the lawn that he certainly hadn’t learned from her. There was definitely no doubt in her mind that these were the moves that had gotten him sent home early today for busting his classmate’s lip. This was the third time he’d been sent home early this month. And to add insult to injury, just as she was ushering him into the house with a bag full of groceries, her neighbor picked that particular time to come and ask her about her mother, who happened to be out of town for the latter part of the week.
“Jamie, get over here now!” Evie suddenly shouted.
Ms. Headley winced, “Well tell your mother that I need to talk to her because…” The neighbor’s next words were lost on her. She became preoccupied when she noticed that Jamie made a beeline towards Ms. Headley’s little Chihuahua who, at the time, had chosen that moment to poke his head and tiny body through the bushes that separated their yards.
“Jamie, leave that dog alone!” Evie warned, practically reading her son’s thoughts. But, it was too late. Jamie had already zoned in on the poor pup and had no intentions of diverting his attention away. In that instance, he lunged for the dog and grabbed its tail, causing it to yelp.
“What in the world?!” cried Ms. Headley.
Evie set her bag of groceries on the ground and immediately rushed towards her son.
“I’m so sorry Ms. Headley! Jamie, stop it right now! ” He looked up at her sheepishly and, for a moment, she was completely taken aback. In spite of his recent rebellious action, he looked so much like his father in that moment that it took her breath away. James had always given her that look when he was sorry for something he’d done.
“Sorry, Mommy.”
Evie inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, allowing all of the anger to seep right out of her.
“It’s alright, Jamie. Let’s go inside.”
“What did he do to my Penelope?” Mrs. Headley cried out as she rushed over and scooped up the tiny dog.
“He just grabbed her tail, Ms. Headley. It’s all right.”
“It most certainly is not,” she said indignantly.
“He didn’t hurt the dog. Not really,” Evie tried to explain.
“That is not the point. You’d better get a handle on that boy, Evelyn.” Evie winced at the use of her full name. Ms. Headley was the only one who ever called her Evelyn.
“I’ll try to.” She conceded, knowing it was pointless to argue with the woman. Meanwhile, Jamie fidgeted at her side.
“Tell your mother to call me as soon as she gets in.”
Evie started towards the house, dragging Jamie along behind her.
“Will do, Ms. Headley,” she called over her shoulder.
“Sorry doggy!” Jamie cried.
“Get control of that boy Evelyn, before he ends up a hooligan!”
“Jamie, what am I gonna do with you?” Evie whispered this more to herself than to anybody as she dropped her son’s hand and picked up the abandoned bag of groceries.
“I don’t know,” her son answered in all seriousness, skipping towards their front door.
Chuckling to herself, she made her way into the house after her son.
The night had not gone well. It never really did when her mother wasn’t there, which was a sad fact. Evie was twenty six years old, educated, smart and completely capable. But, when she had to do everything alone, she felt completely overwhelmed. Truth be told, she just couldn’t handle things without her mother there to help her. Work had been a mess today, as well. She’d been in the ER and it seemed as though there had been a never-ending string of patients during her shift—not to mention she had to leave early to retrieve Jamie from school, which her supervisor had been none too happy about.
After picking up Jamie she had to take him to the grocery shopping with her. This event ended up in a display being knocked over, a can of marinara sauce being broken on one aisle and her son throwing a full on tantrum in the store because she refused to give in to his pleas for a piece of candy. Then, she’d come home to Ms. Headley. The woman probably sat in her window and waited until she saw Evie pull up, then pounced before she could even get the groceries out of the car. While her mother seemed to get along with their neighbor, Evie was not a fan; hence why she had absolutely no desire to date any of the woman’s kin.
Dinner, bed and bath time proved to be no better. Jamie refused to eat anything, gave her a hard time with his bath, then decided right before he went to sleep that he was hungry, to which she made him a sandwich. He ate the sandwich, getting peanut butter and jelly all over himself, which required a wipe down. It was ten o’clock at night before he finally fell asleep.
Now it was ten thirty, and she was too tired to eat anything herself. Her mother called a few minutes earlier to find out how things were going and not wanting to upset her, she told her everything was great.
Telling this little white lie to her mother got her thinking. When was the last time she felt like things in her life were great? And when was the last time she’d actually had fun? Granted she went out with her co-worker and only friend Anna every now and then, when Anna was able to drag her out of the house. But, she never really enjoyed herself at the overcrowded nightclubs or stifling restaurants. She hardly enjoyed herself anywhere these days. She was always in mommy mode and when she wasn’t, she was in nurse mode—both of these modes kept her so busy and overwhelmed that she felt it was a struggle just to keep her head above water.
Suddenly feeling a headache coming on, she went to the kitchen to grab some Tylenol and a glass of water, when she noticed the mail on the counter. Her mother must have left it out for her before she headed off to San Diego this morning. She picked up the stack and began flipping through it. A bank statement, an official looking letter from her attorney’s office and a plain envelope addressed to her with no return address.
She set the bank statement and the letter from her attorney’s office on the counter and tore open the unaddressed letter. Within it were several folded pages of paper that looked as if they had been torn from a spiral notebook. All of them were filled with someone’s handwriting. Confused, she leaned against the counter and unfolded the papers.
Dear Ms. Evelyn Tyrell,
You are probably going to be very confused after you finish reading this letter, but what I have to tell you is something that I’ve kept close to me for three years.
Upon reading these first words, Evie’s heart began to beat erratically, growing more rapid as she read on. What in the world was this?
Your husband is James Joseph Tyrell, and I was there when he died on November 7. My partner was Officer Timothy Walker, who I’m sure you’re familiar with. Although it was kept out of all of the reports and never mentioned, there was a second officer there that night that was involved in your husband’s murder, that officer was me. My involvement in the incident was not recorded, but it is important to me that you know what I did.
I am not trying to make excuses for my actions—there are none. Your husband was targeted unjustly by my partner, and as a rookie cop I felt that I could not go up against a 25-year-veteran. He made a call I didn’t agree with. Although my partner shot first, I am just as guilty because I shot second.
In my heart I knew that your husband was innocent, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret my decisions. I was wrong. I took your husband away from you and your family, and there is nothing worse in my opinion. I have lived under this layer of guilt for the last three years, and I have written this letter to you a million times. I know that this apology is too little too late and cannot begin to make up for what I’ve done, but I need you to know that I am extremely sorry. I know that my words won’t bring James back, and I know the mo
ney they gave you won’t either, but you deserved to know the truth. They kept the truth from you, but you deserve to know that I was involved in James’ death that night.
I will never forget your husband’s face; I dream about him every night. I have not moved on and don’t think I ever can. I want you to know how sorry I am, and I can’t say that enough. I am not asking for your forgiveness; I don’t deserve it. I only want you to know the truth. I am so sorry and I suffer daily for what I have done.
Sincerely,
An Officer
The pages fluttered from Evie’s hands as she sank to the floor. Well, she thought we’ve got one thing in common: neither of us can move on. She didn’t even bother to wipe the tears that slid down her cheek.
Keys To Redemption Page 4