by Madison Diaz
The house is simple, beautiful. Nicer than the place we grew up in. Our old family home was a trailer down the road from the Kingdom Hall. Half the floor was missing in the bathroom. We had to watch for opossums, spiders, and other creatures anytime we were in the bathroom. The paper on the walls was always peeling, and the constant aroma of cigarette smoke filled the whole mobile home. I never felt safe there or was proud to call it home.
This house, Isaiah's home, is two-stories and made out of brick with big windows and white curtains. They have a porch in front where a little pink tricycle sits next to a rocking chair, and a book has been placed on the arm, bookmark sticking out the top. Their yard is kept trim. The bushes in front of the house are beautiful.
They cherish this home so much more than our parents had valued anything in their lives.
My hands shake as I clear my throat, reaching forward to knock on the door. My heart stammers out of control as I force myself to stand tall. I rehearse the first words I plan to say to him over and over as I wait for someone to answer.
Once it finally opens, I wasn't prepared for the little boy on the other side. He has to be about nine or ten years old and looks exactly like Isaiah. The blonde hair and the dark eyebrows are almost identical. His eyes are hazel and breathtaking. He’s the firstborn, the reason Isaiah left so many years ago.
The little boy tilts his head as he assesses me. "How can I help you?" he asks, sounding so cute and grown up.
"Um..." My voice shakes before I clear my throat again. "Are your parents home? I really need to speak with them."
"We're not interested," the boy says, sounding brave like it’s his job to turn people away.
"It's not anything like that. I know them. It's important."
I hear footsteps, then a familiar voice. Chastising, but still kind and soothing. "Seth? What'd I tell you about answering the door? Get back in here."
He grumbles, rolling his eyes before pulling away from the door, and Mackenzie comes into view. She stands in the doorway, blinking at me like she can tell I look familiar. She doesn’t completely recognize me, but that’s okay. I was barely in middle school when I last saw her.
She still looks the same. Slender and tall with light brown hair. She has these big, pretty blue eyes with eyelashes that go on for miles. She never wore makeup and didn't need it. She’s wearing a sundress, when she used to always wear jeans. She looks the same, just ten years older.
"How can I help you?" she asks, caution in her tone.
I blink a few times then opened my mouth, but nothing comes out. I take in a gasp of air and try again but fail. She stares, her gaze never wavering as I panic. My chest constricts and my eyes swell. "Oh, my God," she breathes out before I collapse to my knees on the porch. "Isaiah!" she calls into the house.
My eyes roll back as sweat pours down my face. My breathing slows as I finally fall unconscious.
✵ ✵ ✵
"Is it really her?" a female voice asks.
"Of course, it is. She's just…so grown up. Holy shit. Leah," the male counterpoint responds, laced with emotion. Is that you, Isaiah? Are you taking care of me?
Mumbling comes from my lips as I try to tell them I’m okay. My eyes slowly blink open, blurry at first, but once they clear, I see his face. The same hazel eyes his son has. The same dirty blonde hair and the strong jaw. "Isaiah," I manage to whisper, choking up at the sight of him.
"Leah," he whispers back, falling to his knees beside me. Am I on a couch? My back is cushioned as my head is cuddled by a pillow.
Behind my brother is the rest of the Jackson family. Mackenzie’s holding a smaller child, toddler age. Another little boy is holding her hand—he has to be four or five. On the other side of my brother are the two older ones. The boy who'd greeted me at the door and a girl who couldn't be more than a year or two younger than him.
My brother cups my face in his hands as he leans closer, blocking my view of the family. "Leah, you're here." His thumbs caress my cheeks before he leans forward and kisses my forehead. "What happened? Why'd you leave Mom and Dad?"
I scoff, rolling my eyes. My voice is still weak. "I left them years ago."
His eyes widen. "What? Where did you go? What happened to you? You know you could have come to me. I woulda taken care of you. Leah—"
"Enough," Mackenzie jumps in, pulling him by his shoulder. He listens to her as he pulls back, pinning his mouth shut. His older daughter wraps her arms around him and kisses his cheek like I’m sure he's done to her a million times.
Mackenzie smiles down at me. "Are you alright? Still dizzy?"
"A little," I manage to croak.
"Seth," she calls.
He steps up next to me with a glass of water. I smile at him, taking the glass then gulping it down. "Are you my aunt?" he asks.
"Alright, enough questions, guys," Mackenzie commands as I nod to the boy. He smiles before turning around and stepping back. "Kids, go off and play somewhere else so Leah can relax."
"Is she staying?" the older girl asks, giving me a suspicious look. Smart girl. Do not trust strangers. Even family members.
"Maybe," Mackenzie answers. "Now go upstairs and play."
"But, Mom!"
"Enough," she growls, using her ‘mom voice.’
Isaiah and I continue to stare at one another. So many years have passed. So much regret. His eyes keep searching mine before he’s at my side again, running his fingers through my hair in a way he would have never done growing up. "Hungry? Thirsty? I can't believe you're here."
I nod, finally strong enough to sit up. My ears are ringing as I press my fingers to a very distinct knot on my forehead. "Sorry, sweetie," Mackenzie says, "wasn't able to catch you before you fell."
I force a smile. "It's okay. I am a bit hungry. Didn't eat breakfast, then ran around town looking for you."
Mackenzie's eyes almost bulge out of her head. "It's nearly four o'clock. No wonder you fainted. You should take better care of yourself, honey."
A small smile appears on my face. This is the first time someone actually told me to take better care of myself. "I'll make you a sandwich really quick. You two catch up." She scurries out of the room with her baby still in her arms.
Isaiah moves to the empty spot on the couch next to me. We stare in silence again before he grins, and I laugh. "Holy shit. You were still a kid when I last saw you. Now you're all grown up. I can't even…wow…just…”
"I know," I manage to say. "You look the same. Less scrawny, but mostly the same."
His eyes narrow. "Alright, jerk." He playfully punches my arm. His eyes grow serious. "So, what happened? I'm glad you're here, but why did you come?"
My head shakes as I sigh. "It's a long story."
"I got time," he insists, eyes still searching mine. "Your eyes are sad. Really sad. Even Seth noticed. What happened to you?"
My eyes start to well again. "A lot," I whisper.
He bites his lip, shaking his head before running his fingers through his hair. "Okay, we don't have to talk about it now. You can stay here, though. As long as you need. I'm serious. We'll put the boys together and give you Seth's room."
My head shakes. "You don't have to do all that for me."
Mackenzie returns with a plate and a particularly delicious looking sandwich on it. "That's what we do when my parents come. There are two beds in Jason's for that exact reason."
She hands the plate to me, and I take it. She sits in the armchair as the baby in her arms tugged on her hair. "What's her name?" I ask before taking my first bite of the most delicious sandwich on the planet. How had I not realized I’m starving?
Mackenzie smiles, looking right at Isaiah. Our eyes meet as he breaks into a broad smile. "We named her Leah."
Chapter Eighteen
Leah
The house is to myself for once. My brother and his wife took the kids to her mom’s house for dinner a few hours ago and normally, I’d join them. But I knew I’d be tired after my shift at the fl
oral shop, and I was right. I’m pooped.
A month ago, Mackenzie had helped me get a job working for a friend of hers. I had been getting stir crazy in the house, looking for anything to do besides wallow in self-pity for leaving Nick the way I did or obsess over the restraining order I’d put on Ethan.
Isaiah had convinced me to do it shortly after I told him everything. The pain in his eyes when I talked about the fears and insecurities keeping me in the relationship haunted me. His head shook as he told me he was sorry for not reaching out to me earlier. “I don’t know what I thought your life had been like without me, but I had no idea any of this would happen.”
And, of course, none of it had been his fault. I know my brother assumed leaving me with Mom and Dad was the best option for everyone. His life hadn’t been the most stable back then and fighting for me in the courts would have only made all of our lives a living hell. I’m sure he assumed I’d never just run off with some crappy guy and let him abuse me for over half a decade.
Nobody could predict that.
I plop down on my bed, pulling out my hair tie and fitting it onto my wrist. My hair falls in waves, framing my face as I change into something more comfortable. It’s rare to get the house to myself as there’s so many people living here, but I appreciate their company. I love my new family and moving here to be with them is probably the smartest decision I’ve ever made.
A banging on the front door pulls me from my thoughts. I pull a tank top over my head before going to my window and looking down from the second story. My eyes widen as my chest constricts. My breath catches as I notice the familiar blonde hair, the rippling muscles. How did he find me?
He pounds on the front door again, his truck parked in front of the house. Once my eyes return to the blood-sucking demon standing on my brother’s porch, I realize he’s spotted me. There’s a moment where we both stop, staring at one another. My heart pounds in my chest as he points at me and shouts something I can’t exactly make out.
Moving away from the window, I grab my phone from the top of my dresser. My hands shake as I dial 9-1-1. Ethan knocks again from downstairs, pounding his fists on the hardwood as the phone continues dialing out. “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
Glass breaks downstairs. Tears flood my eyes as I cover my mouth to keep from screaming. The woman on the phone repeats her words, grounding me, reminding me I have some control here. I can do this. “There’s a man breaking into my house,” I tell her.
She asks more questions, and I answer them as best as I can, listening to the sounds downstairs at the same time. She tells me an officer is in the area and should be there soon then suggests that I hide. With shaking hands, I lock my door and hide under my bed. The nice, new bed my brother and his wife purchased for me a week ago.
Silence. My hands cover my mouth as tears mark a trail down my cheeks. My breaths are coming in heavy and short, my heart beating in my stomach. I reach for my phone again, this time dialing my brother’s number. It rings four times before he answers, sounding happy and carefree. “Hey, Leah. What’s going on?”
“He’s here,” I whisper.
“Who?”
“Ethan.”
Isaiah is quiet for a moment. Then I hear mumbling as he says something away from the phone. He comes back to me a second later. “Did you call the police?”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “They’re on their way.”
“Okay, I’m coming too.”
I shake my head. “I’ll be okay.”
“Leah, this isn’t up for discussion. Stay on the phone with me. I’m leaving now.” There’s rustling into the phone and breathing as if he’s running to his car.
Footsteps echo through the house, alerting me to the fact that he’s now on the stairs. He’s finally gotten to me. He found me, and I know he was served papers, informing him of my restraining order. It didn’t keep him away, and I wonder if anything could. What will I have to do to keep him from grabbing me and forcing me back home with him? Would I even make it? Ethan hates being told no, but I’ve never done it on this level before. What will he do when he reaches me?
Sirens approach from the outside. Isaiah is speaking to me through the phone, but I can’t understand a word he’s saying. I’m frozen. Gasping breaths make their way into my lungs. My heart continues beating, but there’s nothing else I can do.
A moment later, and there’s shouting coming from downstairs. The footsteps on the stairs continue up, running to the second story. My door handle rattles before he moves on to another room and I let out a sigh of relief. I listen as the house fills with people. As they make it to the second landing. There’s shouting and fists hitting flesh before they pass by my room again and down the stairs.
“Leah, I’m here. He’s outside,” my brother tells me. I still can’t move, but the tears continue to flow. I lay my head flat against the floor and sob into the carpet. They made it. He’s being arrested. I don’t have to be afraid anymore.
✵✵✵
A month later, I’m sitting in a courtroom, looking at the man who’s caused me so many conflicting emotions over the years. And somehow, under the baggy jumpsuit they gave him to wear, he isn’t as terrifying. There’s dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders are slumped as he sits in his chair, defeated.
He’s being charged with violating his restraining order, breaking and entering, and assault of a few police officers. Over the last few weeks, I’d gotten back in contact with Sarah, letting her know where I was and that I was alright. She reminded me of the recorded phone calls she’d gotten the night before my escape, so she made copies and sent them to us to use in our case.
Isaiah and a lawyer friend had done some extra digging after that, and apparently, there was a lot more going on in Ethan’s life than I ever would have known. Warrants in surrounding counties from multiple assaults, a few of them on women.
I’d always wondered what Ethan was doing when he’d leave for months at a time. Apparently, I wasn’t the only woman he was harassing. Not even the only one he kept around as a few showed up to his hearing, staring at him with hearts in their eyes as if they haven’t realized how shitty of a person he actually is.
It’s sad, really. The darkness of his past leading him to become such an abusive person. He looks up from his hands and turns to face me. Our eyes connect, and I feel it deep in my bones. He’s hurt and angry. He probably can’t understand why I would leave or take so many precautions to keep him away, but maybe time behind bars could help him realize that. Help him see how fucked up he’s become.
They sentence him. Fifteen years. Isaiah’s jaw clenches as he shakes his head, whispering some comment to me about how it isn’t enough. But I wonder, would it ever be enough? Can anything give me back the years of my life lost? Could anything ever make me feel whole again? I’d thought Nick could fix all those empty holes inside of me, but it wasn’t right to expect him to do that. It’s something I need to do for myself.
As they hauled Ethan away, he didn’t even glance in my direction another time. The women at his beck-and-call watched him leave before moving on with their lives, gossiping about whatever town they were from. I took a few moments to collect myself as Isaiah shook hands with the lawyer. My eyes drifted down to my hands, wringing in my lap as I let out another sigh.
It’s over. I can finally move on.
Chapter Nineteen
Leah
"You passed?" Mackenzie asks the moment I walk through the front door.
She does that a lot. She'll see me walking up the sidewalk home and run to the door to greet me. I noticed she does the same thing to Isaiah. Sometimes she'd even have a beer opened and waiting for him when he came home.
The corners of my lips turn up as I playfully roll my eyes. "I don't know yet. They send the results in the mail."
She groans, stomping her feet like she isn’t a grown woman. "Man, I was all excited to celebrate tonight." She pouts. "You at least think you passed?"
I shrug, playing coy. "Maybe. We'll see."
"Ugh, you're the worst," she shouts, dramatic as ever, placing the back of her hand to her forehead. Leah follows her lead by doing the same thing, then falls back on her butt, eliciting a laugh from both of us.
The front door opens again as Isaiah walks in, wearing his usual teacher outfit: button-up shirt with tan slacks. I’m closest to the door, so the closest for him to wrap his arm around and kiss my forehead. That’s the norm for us now. When did he become the sweetest brother ever?
"Got your GED now?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows in excitement.
"She's gotta wait till it comes in the mail," Mackenzie announces for me, pouting again.
"Aw." Isaiah frowns too, patting my head before turning away to kiss his wife. Little Leah puts her arms up, so he can pick her up and rub noses next. She giggles, and the sound is definitely one of my favorites.
Kicking off my shoes, I slump down on the couch, accepting a toy truck from Jason for playing. Even with three adults, four kids are still way too much. They all need a lot of attention at the same time, and I wasn't sure how they did it before I came along.
The last few months have been crazy, and it’s now the end of summer. One thought seems to consistently keep running through my mind, though. Nick.
I had ignored his texts until they stopped coming. I couldn't respond to him, knowing once I opened that line of communication there'd be no stopping it. I'd be back in his arms without ever fixing anything. And it’s not that I didn’t want to because, believe me, I did. I just couldn’t make myself go through with it. Each time I drafted a text message, I’d find myself simply deleting it and then putting my phone down and out of reach.