Breathe Her In

by Gretchen Tubbs

  “Fuck, Eleanor,” I exhale, scared to even touch her.

  “Don’t,” she warns. “It looks worse than it feels.”

  “Come here.” I lead her into the living room and get her settled on the couch, as close to me as I can manage. With shaking fingers that I barely have any control over, I trace over the purplish and blue bruising along her slender neck.

  The fact that my sister did this to her makes me sick.

  I wonder if Eleanor has a breaking point. There’s only so much pain and suffering I can bring down on her before she decides she’s had enough. I hope our love is strong enough to get her through all the bad that’s happened as a result of our relationship… this, my work for Ford, the loss of our baby, our separation. How much can she take? How much more is going to get thrown at us?

  “She didn’t mean it,” Eleanor whispers, the lower lids of her eyes growing red.

  “That doesn’t make this hurt me any less.” My hands move from her neck to her jaw, my thumbs rubbing along her skin. I don’t dare trace over the red welts along her cheeks, which are shining from the ointment coating them. Thank God the marks aren’t deep, but that doesn’t make it any easier to look at. Eleanor’s eyes close, and I place soft kisses on each lid, on the tip of her nose, and finally on her lips. She sighs and pushes herself into my body. Because of the scratches, her forehead rests on top of my heart instead of her cheek.

  “What happened today?”

  She looks up from my chest, wincing from the movement. “We were on the way to recess. I was walking toward the back of the line, and Della’s the line leader this week, so she was up front with Hadley. Hadley said they were stopped at the end of the hallway waiting for the end of the line to catch up, and two officers rounded the corner. That’s when Della started screaming and ran to me.”

  “Officers?”

  She nods. “Two or three times a day, we have policemen do walk-throughs of the school. It’s protocol because of all the school violence and shootings lately. Did she have a bad experience with police when she was with your mom?”

  The likelihood that Dells had police contact while in my mother’s care is high, but I don’t know much about her time with that horrible woman. “I’m not sure. Do you know all the cops that come?”

  “No. It’s city police, so there are tons of them. I didn’t get a good look at the two that came today. The second she ran to me, I got her away from the kids and into the room where you found us. I just know it was a man and a woman. I’m sorry.”

  I rub a small part of her cheek that’s not tainted with claw marks. “Nothin’ to be sorry about, baby. You did what you could to make my sister feel safe.”

  “Yeah,” she snorts, the sarcasm dripping. “I did a bang up job.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but Della’s footsteps cut me off. I turn my back to Eleanor and see Della’s face, puffy from sleep, but smiling at the sight of her teacher on the couch. She gets in close and goes to hug her, but when she gets a good look at the damage she inflicted, her smile quickly disappears and morphs into a quivering pout. Eleanor opens her arms and welcomes Della in, holding her tight and letting her sob into her chest. She rocks her back and forth and whispers “It’s alright,” over and over.

  “Sorry.”

  Eleanor and I both freeze, so I know it wasn’t a hallucination. It was low, it was muffled, but Della spoke. She apologized to Eleanor.

  Della looks up, and much like I did before, traces over Eleanor’s wounds. Eleanor takes her trembling fingers, kisses the tips, and tucks them back into her body, telling her that she forgives her for what happened, reassuring her that it wasn’t her fault.

  “I’m sorry, Eleanor,” she says again, this time the words come out clearer and more intentional.

  I wish the circumstances were different, but hearing her voice is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. To hear her tiny eight year old voice saying something other than ‘no’ or ‘stop’ in the midst of a psychotic meltdown is almost more than I can handle. I throw my arms around my two girls, bury my face in my sister’s neck, and fight to hold back tears.

  ___

  “This is startin’ to get out of hand,” I tell Ford as I walk up to the shed where I keep his stash. I’ve been getting called out almost every night. Things are escalating; have been since Vega entered the picture.

  His laughter through the phone is like nails down a chalkboard. “What’s the matter, Lover Boy? You don’t like bein’ away from that hot piece of ass?”

  My back goes stiff and my steps falter. “How do you know about her?”

  “Don’t kid yourself. I know everything there is to know about you. How’s she feel about her man’s side job?”

  “Shut your mouth.”

  He just laughs more. I fumble with the flimsy lock that keeps the door shut on the rusty shed behind the abandoned house. It’s not very sturdy, but I really don’t give a fuck if anyone breaks in here. I refuse to bring anything to my house and risk Della or my PO finding it. As I dig behind the crates in the corner, I realize that things just moved to a whole new level with Vega.

  “You’ve got to be shittin’ me.” Throbbing starts up behind my eyes. I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to alleviate some of the pressure.

  “New stuff just arrived from our friend.”

  “I see that. This is fucked up.” There’s a shit ton of heroin, which is making a huge comeback on the streets. The problem is, dealers don’t know how to cut it so kids are overdosing left and right. In addition to the drugs, there’s a wide array of guns. I want no part of this.

  “I’m out. We never agreed to this.”

  “You’re out, and you know what happens.”

  “What’s gonna happen when I get busted and you don’t have a mule anymore?”

  “There’s always someone else. You’re not that important.”

  “I go down, I’m takin’ you with me.” I decide now’s the time to start bluffing. “I have measures in place. I won’t go down without a fight.”

  “Nobody’s gonna believe a felon. You’ve been in and out the system your whole life. Your momma has a worse rep than you.”

  “Try me. I fucking dare you.” The line stays quiet on his end, so I keep going. “I’ll do it this once, but guns are out. Make sure that’s clear next time you talk to him.” I disconnect before I have to hear his voice any longer, load up my car, and take off to meet with my buyer.

  20. Eleanor

  Three weeks have come and gone since I heard Della’s sweet voice whispering an apology against my neck. I wait every day for her to speak again, the anticipation all but crippling, but she never does. She still screams, though, trapped in agony and suffering, each time she has an episode at school. It doesn’t take long for me and Hadley to realize that the officers who do walk-throughs of the school are triggering them. They aren’t there every time she has an episode, but each time she sees them, it sets her off like I’ve never seen before.

  Rafe contacts her therapists, and they don’t have any record of her bringing up cops, security guards, or anyone else who would be in uniform. She never attacks me again, but that doesn’t make helping her through the situation any easier. Once we figured out that that’s one of her triggers, I have the office call me as soon as they see the policemen pull up, and I get Della in a room where she won’t have to see them.

  We are huddled in the Assistant Principal’s office on lockdown when Rafe comes in, irate.

  “What is he doing here? What did he say to you?” He’s breathing hard, his hands are balled into fists at his sides, and I can practically see the steam rising from his head.

  Jumping in my seat from the slamming door, I slide Della off my lap and stand up, pushing Rafe toward the door. “What are you talking about? Why is who here?” I keep my voice hushed. This is probably not a conversation his sister needs to overhear.

  “Ford.” His jaw is ticking he’s clenching it so tight.

  “I don’t know who th
at is.”

  He blows out an exasperated breath and runs his hands through his hair a few times. “Richard Ford. The cop that’s crawling around here.”

  “I don’t know any of them.” Looking over my shoulder to Della, I see she’s coloring, so I keep talking. “You know that we steer clear of them when at all possible.”

  “Fuck,” he sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” It takes a few minutes, but he gets himself under control.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Dells forgot her lunch. I came to drop it off, but I ran into Ford, and I almost lost my shit.”

  “Who is he?”

  He doesn’t answer my question, but the look he gives me says it all. Realization hits me, his reaction explained… Ford’s the dirty cop that’s blackmailing Rafe. He’s never said his name. He tries to keep me in the dark about the whole situation. It’s safer for us all that way.

  “Please, Eleanor,” he begs in a way I’ve never heard before. “Stay away from him. I don’t want you anywhere near that son of a bitch. You or my sister. Promise me.” He’s pleading, desperate with his request.

  I take his face in my hands, pulling him down towards me. “I promise, honey. You don’t even have to ask.” Doesn’t he know by now that I’ll do anything for him? This simple request is one that I have no problem with. Ford has made his life a living hell. I lay awake at night, trying to come up with a solution to the problem, trying to figure out how Rafe can get out from under his thumb without jeopardizing his custody of Della.

  She walks over to us, holding out her new picture for her brother. He takes it from her, scooping her up in his arms, the remaining tension draining from his face. “Thanks, Della Doo. I think this one’s gonna go in the shop. Would you like that?” We both hold our breath, waiting for a verbal response, but are met with silence.

  “I put your lunch on your desk,” he continues. “Now, I need a kiss from each of my girls so I can head to Landon’s and finish setting up for my show tomorrow.” Della puts a hand on each side of his scruffy face and gives him a loud smooch right on the mouth, giggling. God, I could listen to that sound all day long. I’ll take it over the screams any day. She sounds so happy. She sounds like an eight year old should.

  Without letting go of his sister, he turns his face to me. “Your turn.” As soon as my lips make contact with the side of his, the door to the office opens.

  It’s Tristan.

  We jump apart when we hear the groan of the wood, but it’s too late. My ex-boyfriend saw enough… me wrapped in my boyfriend’s arms, kissing him in front of my student.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask. I try to keep the guilt out of my voice, but it’s useless… you can hear it in my pitch and can see it written all over my face.

  “I was looking for Daniel and I thought he might be in here. Clearly, I was wrong.” Without a word, he closes the door and his clipped steps can be heard down the hallway.

  Rafe turns to follow, but I grab his arm and stop him. “Please don’t.”

  “We need to get a few things straight.” His face is drawn tight. The tension from earlier is back, a hundred fold.

  “You’ll only make it worse, and this isn’t really the time or place to do that.” My eyes close, and I curse myself for my carelessness. I can’t believe I did something so stupid.

  “Do you think he’ll say anything?” he asks, scrubbing his hands up and down his face.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. He wasn’t too happy when I ended things with him. Now that he thinks it was for a student’s parent, there’s no telling.”

  “I can’t just let this go. Not if he’s gonna fuck with you about it.”

  “Rafe,” I start, but the loud ringing of my cell phone cuts off the pleading I was about to do. I answer the call, and the secretary lets me know that the officers are gone. Della and I are safe to walk the halls again.

  “I need to get back to work,” he tells me, or rather the door. His whole demeanor has changed. “I’ll call you later.” Without a look back to us, he’s gone.

  Della and I return to class, and the rest of the day doesn’t get any better. I have a meeting with an irate parent about her child’s failing grades, there is a nasty stomach bug going around the class, and my kids are just generally wild. The only redeeming quality is the fact that tonight is Sangria Night at Makenna’s new house. She and her husband just moved in, so we’re having a housewarming party.

  The rest of the day crawls by. I keep my cell phone close, waiting for Tristan’s calls to start coming, but the threatening calls and texts never start. Each time I hear the shrill buzz of the intercom, my heart bangs wildly against my chest, my mind kicking into overdrive. Maybe he skipped the call to me and went straight to Daniel, so I’m being called to the office by the boss about what happened earlier. My worrying never stops, but when the dismissal bell rings at the end of the day, I decide I can’t let it ruin my weekend. It’s out of my hands now.

  Rafe’s waiting in the cafeteria when Della and I get there, but I can tell by the look on his face that he’s still not over what happened earlier.

  “Hey,” I say, desperately wanting to push into his arms, frustrated that I can’t. Not while we’re here.

  “Hey.” His eyes drift from me to his sister. “How was your day, kid?” He waits a few seconds, but when she doesn’t reply, he continues. “You feel like helpin’ me install some art at Landon’s?”

  She nods eagerly, all while I can feel my face falling. Rafe must see it, too.

  He looks around to make sure we’re alone before giving me his excuses. “I know I said I’d go with you tonight, but I can’t. I have to finish with Landon, and I got a call earlier. Looks like I have an errand to run later.”

  When he says he has an ‘errand’, I don’t question it. I’d rather not know any details. That single word now incites a hot ball of fire in the pit of my stomach. My entire body gets tense when he says it. I hate what he has to do in order to keep Della.

  “Ride with one of your girls,” he continues, “and I’ll swing by to pick you up when I’m finished.”

  “Okay.” I cast my eyes downward. It’s not fair of me to get upset by what he has to do. I’m not helping the situation. He feels bad enough about it without my opinions and feelings on the matter.

  “Eleanor,” he calls. I look at him and I can see he’s struggling with this just as much as I am. “I’m sorry. I know we had plans, and I hate that I have to break them. I’ll come to Makenna’s as soon as I’m finished.”

  “Please be careful.” I can barely manage to get the words out.

  “Always.” He’s gone, without so much as a simple touch.

  ___

  The drinks are flowing, making the problems of the day all but disappear. My friends are a perfect distraction from the fact that I might not have a job when Monday rolls around. I try not to think about it too much, which is easy to do with the amount of liquor coursing through my veins. We’ve been out here for several hours, the food is long gone, but the drinks are still being consumed. We’ve bitched about all things school-related, caught up on everyone’s family drama, and Caroline even managed to fall out of the hammock. Now, conversation has moved on to the inevitable… Sex.

  “…and then he wanted to try some of the kinky shit we saw in that movie,” I hear Bren saying. “It was so damn hot.”

  We all start screaming. I can feel my face getting flushed, but I’m not sure if it’s from my sangria, the fact that we’re outside in the sweltering Louisiana heat, or because I know where Bren’s story is headed.

  “Wait,” Laurel yells, throwing her hands in the air, stopping the story from moving any further. “I need my sunglasses for this.”

  The screams grow louder. I try to shush my friends, but it’s no use. Thank God Makenna’s house is in the middle of nowhere, or the neighbors would be calling the cops. The cows in the surrounding pastures don’t seem to be bothered by the obnoxious laughter that’s been
floating through the air all night. Laurel finally fishes her sunglasses out of her giant purse and gets them situated on the bridge of her nose, after several failed attempts. Not an easy task when your face is numb from sangrias that were mixed with a heavy hand.

  “Okay. I’m ready,” she proclaims.

  Bren’s shaking her head and turning red from giggling. “I don’t even remember what I was saying anymore.”

  “You know it was something dirty if Laurel had to get out her shades,” Caroline interrupts. “She can’t look at us if it’s nasty.”

  “Keep those on, Laurel, and let’s talk about Eleanor and Rafe. You know she’s got some good stories about him.”

  Holding my glass of sangria high, I announce to my friends, “I don’t kiss and tell, girls.”

  “Oh, but we’re not talking about kissing.” Bren’s got a devilish gleam in her eyes.

  I guess I can give them something. It’s just not what they want. “We got busted at school today.”

  “What?”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “Shut the front door!”

  Everyone is going crazy, shooting out of their seats, about to go on attack. I know it’s wrong, but it’s so much fun to tease them.

  Bren’s hitting her hand on the top of the table. “You took my advice, didn’t you? You screwed him on your desk! Good girl.”

  I’m laughing so hard that my drink is sloshing over the sides of the glass. Hadley’s snapping pics of me, I’m sure sending them to Rafe as we speak. “No. We were just kissing.” I look around the patio table we’re gathered around. I’m shocked by the disappointed looks on everyone’s faces when they learn I wasn’t having sex with my boyfriend at work. Good grief, but my friends are a mess.

  “Anyway,” I continue, “it was just a simple little kiss, but Tristan walked in right when it was happening. I’m sure he ran straight to Daniel to tell him about it.”

  “Oh, shit,” Hadley says, her face dropping. “What are you gonna do?”