I'm in her room now. Everything looks normal. I make my way around the bed and I can see an empty bottle of vodka on her nightstand. That's nothing new. The empty pill bottle on the floor, however, is. She usually keeps those better hidden.
That dread… it's covering my mouth with a tight grip. I want to scream, "get away from me, let me go." But, I can't. I can only continue on toward the bathroom door.
It's cracked. I can feel my heart beating in my ears now. It's like I've just run a marathon. There's so much pressure, I think my head's about to burst.
I'm almost there. I can hear the shower running, but no other sound. It's too quiet. My hand trembles as I lift it toward the door. "Breathe, Ella. Breathe. It will be ok. It will be ok." I chant to myself.
I can only see clean, brown tile through the small crack. I give the white painted wood a small push and take one step inside before slowly turning my head to the left.
"Mom! No! Please, God! No!" I fall to my knees before quickly scrambling back onto my feet.
I hurry across the floor, my feet carrying me straight to her. I drop to the floor next to her head. There's blood. So much blood.
"Mom! Mom, please wake up. Don't do this! Don't do this to me. Please, Mom!"
My phone, where's my phone? I need my phone. I pull it from my pocket to dial 911. There's too much blood. The screen won't work. I grab her towel off the shower door and wipe my hands before making the call.
I'm begging them. "Please help my mom. She's all I've got. Hurry!"
Deep in my heart, I know I'm too late. Her head is in my lap and I'm holding onto her the best I can. Each gentle swipe of my fingers across her cheek, leaves a red trail in their wake. I can see the large gash just above her right temple. There's an indention there as well.
Her lifeless eyes stare back at me. She's very cold and her lips are blue. I take the towel and cover her with it as I start to rub her arms. I need to warm her up.
I'm crying too hard to see. All that's left to do is let her know I love her and I'm sorry I failed her. So that's what I do. Over and over again.
"I love you, Mom! I love you. I didn't tell you enough. I've failed you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
I'm roughly pulled away. I'm numb, watching the scene before me play out as though it’s a reel in my head. This isn't real. It can't be. Why can't I wake up from this dream?
The paramedic covers her face with a towel before turning his sympathetic eyes to mine.
"She's gone," I whimper.
Kohl's voice pulls me from my nightmare, bringing me back to the present. He's sitting up with me cradled in his lap. His arms hold me tightly against his chest as he rocks me back and forth.
"Let it all out, Ella. I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."
I didn't even realize I had moved, or that he had pulled me onto his lap. Loud sobs wrack my body, but he never falters, just holds me a little tighter, whispering words of reassurance into the top of my head.
"She had fallen trying to get into the shower, hit her head against the vanity on the way down," I choke out.
"Shh. That's enough, you don't have to say any more," Kohl soothes.
14
Kohl
This girl is tearing my heart out. I thought I knew what heartbreak felt like, but I was wrong. I swear I can feel the pain dripping from her, seeping into my skin. I have no idea how to help her, I'm at a complete loss here.
Her life has been far harder than I feared. Just thinking of all she's endured has guilt weighing heavily on my shoulders. If only we could turn back time and make different choices, maybe Ella would've had a happy, loving childhood like I did.
While I can't change her past, I can improve her future. From this moment forward I swear to myself I'll protect her and love her through any hurt that come her way. This beautiful soul deserves nothing but love and happiness more than any other person I know. She's had enough anguish to last a lifetime.
She sniffles softly as her sobs diminish. I can tell she's exhausted from the way her body lags against mine. As much as I don't want to let her go, I know I need to get her home.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get dressed and get you in the truck," I suggest, scooting us to the edge of the tailgate. We dress quickly, before I scoop her up into my arms and hop onto the ground. I carry her to the passenger door, placing her on the seat inside. Bending forward, I place a palm on each side of her face. "You're gonna be ok, Ella," I promise, staring deep into her eyes.
"I know," she whispers, before diverting her gaze.
"Hey?" I wait until she returns her eyes to mine. "You're gonna be okay! You're so strong. You've already been through more than most people could handle in a lifetime. But, look at you, you're still here. You're still fighting, trying to wade your way through the muddy waters. Only, you're not alone anymore, we'll get through this pain together. I promise I'll be right by your side, holding your hand through the good and the bad. You hear me?"
"Yeah." She tries but fails to give me a reassuring smile.
"You'll see," I murmur.
I reach across and click her seatbelt into place before placing a sweet kiss to her forehead. "It's you and me from here on out. Got it?"
"I've got it. Thanks for listening, Kohl. I haven't really spoken much about… things… her death," she finishes in a raspy voice. "Up until tonight, I've had a hard time opening up and as hard as it was, I think I needed that."
"I want you to know, you can talk to me anytime, about anything you want." I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Give me a minute to box up the bed and I'll get you home."
I shut her door and make my way to the back of the truck. I open the valve on the bed, to let the air escape as I gather the blankets and pillows. When the bed is flat, I gather it all and place it in the back seat before crawling behind the wheel to take my girl home. We're pulling into her drive in no time.
"I know it's been an emotional night, but I have one more question before I walk you to the door." I place the truck in park and turn to face her. "Will you come to dinner at my house tomorrow night? My parents really want to meet you. Mom's actually been hounding me for weeks."
She gives me a sweet smile that has warmth pumping through my veins. "I'd like that," she accepts.
"Great! I'll pick you up about five. We can hang out for a while before it's time to eat."
It's two o'clock Sunday afternoon when I decide to go to the office. I want to get a little paper work done, get a jumpstart on my week. Plus, it'll help me kill some time while I'm waiting to pick Ella up.
I swear I'm in so much trouble where that girl is concerned. I'm already so hooked, in so deep, there's no chance of me every digging myself out of this love-struck hole I've fallen into. I told her I was falling for her, but the truth is, I think I'm already there.
If I'm being completely honest with myself, it began the first time I saw her face. That sounds crazy, I know. I think my heart knew it the moment our eyes connected, and it's just been giving my brain time to catch up before admitting it out loud.
I think she's falling for me too, but I don't think she's ready to admit it yet. I'm not worried though. I'll give her all the time she needs. I'm in no hurry and she needs time to heal. I'll be there for her every step of the way, doing whatever it takes to fill her life with happiness.
I'm greeted by Mom as soon as I walk through the garage door. Her arms are loaded down with bags of groceries.
"Here, give me those," I say, removing the bags from her arms and carrying them back inside to the kitchen.
"Whew! Thank you, dear. I don't know why I always try to get it all in one trip." She laughs. "I hope Ella likes roast. I didn't really know what to cook, but I wanted to make something that didn't require me to stand over the stove the entire time she's here. I want plenty time to visit. I can't wait to see her, Kohl. I just want to wrap her up in my arms and squeeze her."
"Now, let's not run the poor girl off. We do want her to come back again, you kno
w."
"Oh, I know. I'm not actually going to do it. I'm not crazy."
I stare at her, she knows what I'm thinking.
"Well, I'm not that crazy." She rolls her eyes. "Better?" she raises her brows in challenge.
"Hey, you said it, not me," I defend, holding my hands up.
"Where were you headed, anyway?" she asks.
"I'm going to run down to the office, get some paperwork out of the way so I'll have a jump start on my week." I shrug. "I'm also trying to kill some time before I can go get Ella."
Mom studies me, a shit eating grin stretched across her face. "Ohh, you've got it bad," she teases.
"I don't want to hear it! I'm outa here," I say, opening the door. Her boisterous laughter follows me all the way to my truck.
Ten minutes later, I'm unlocking the door to our office, located just on the outskirts of town. After stepping inside, I shut and lock it behind me. Nothing but silence greets me. I've never heard it so quiet in here. Usually, there's someone behind every desk, talking on every phone, walking in and out the doors.
Once inside my office, I settle in and pull a stack of papers from the corner of my desk. I start to scan through them, trying to decide what I want to tackle first. I have work orders, job proposals, supply requests, the list goes on and on. I stop at a hand-written note on a yellow piece of legal paper.
It's from Nancy, head of accounts payable. She's concerned all the receipts for the state housing job we just finished in, Fremont, haven't been turned in. We're way under budget, when we were worried, we'd actually go over.
I remember dad saying, Frank, the foreman on that job, gave him a file full of receipts he'd been holding onto. He was working late nights to finish the job on time, and didn't have a chance to get into the office before closing to turn them in. When Dad went out to the jobsite, for a final walk through one day last week, Frank gave the file to him. Guess Dad forgot to give them to Nancy.
I decide to go to his office to see if I can find them. I grab the small keychain off my desk, we both keep our doors locked when we're not here and only he and I have keys. If I can find the file, I'll put it on Nancy's desk so she can get to work on the final report first thing in the morning.
Dad and I both have to be at a new jobsite bright and early tomorrow and I don't expect either of us to make it to the office until later in the afternoon. I was actually surprised when I pulled up and he wasn't already here working.
When we finish a job, Nancy immediately finishes the final budget reports so we can make sure all i's were dotted and t's crossed. She's a worrier, too, so if I don't find them now, she'll drive Dad and I both insane until one of us finds those receipts.
I walk into his office and see that his desk is worse than mine. Oh hell. There's notes and files tossed everywhere, covering the entire surface of his desk. I'm digging out file after file from under the mess of paper. I don't know what name is written across the top but so far nothing I've ran across would be linked to state housing.
What I see next has me coming to a complete stop. The name on the file I'm currently holding has my heart hammering inside my chest. Gwendolyn LeeAnn Jones is written across the top.
Could that be Ella's mother, Gwen? It has to be. I mean what are the odds? But, why would my dad have a file with her name on it? I fall into the seat behind me. For a moment, all I can do is stare at the name written across the top tab of the file. Should I open it? I have a decision to make.
I can place it back amongst the scattered papers, get up and leave his office right now. That's what I should do. If I don’t open it, I won't know what information hides inside. I wouldn't have to add it to the collection of secrets I'm already keeping from Ella.
I can't not look though. It could be nothing. Maybe I'm thinking way too much into this. I'll just open the file, see what it says, then go back to my office and get to work. I'm sure it's completely innocent.
I can't bring myself to pick it back up, so I flip the top cover open where it lies. I'm greeted with a small stack of pictures. Reaching out, I pick them up, examining them in front of me. A smiling face stares back at me.
This has to be Ella's mom. Her hair's a lot lighter than Ella's, her eyes a darker shade of blue. Ella may look a lot like Ms. Ann, but I can see enough similarities between the beautiful woman in the picture to know this has to be her mom. I flip through a few more pictures. Several are pictures of hotels, a few seem to be apartments.
I see nothing significant until I come across one that has a ball of lead forming in my stomach. It's a picture of the same woman, only she's undeniably pregnant. She's walking out of a grocery store, one hand carrying two shopping bags, and the other holding her protruding belly. There's several more similar to the last. All photos of the same pregnant woman, always holding her belly.
The next few obviously take place over a few months' time. Gwen is no longer pregnant but has a baby carrier hooked through her arm. You can tell from the size of the baby inside, time has passed between the pictures taken, it's like she's grown right before my eyes. The next one I uncover is Gwen and a tiny Ella, walking out of an elementary school, hand-in-hand.
I really want to give my dad the benefit of the doubt, but these pictures tell a story all their own. It seems he's known about Ella all these years. How could he have left her in such a bad situation and allowed her to suffer? Especially, being the one to put her there in the first place.
I place the pictures down on the desk and lift the letters from the file. They're from a private investigation firm located in a city a few hours from here. Flipping through the letters, I see the first one is dated close to twenty years ago. Each letter is basically the same, they give a brief summary stating the subjects name, location, and place of employment.
The most recent letter was written about five years after the first. I guess that would be about the time Ella started kindergarten and I'm guessing it was accompanied by the pic in front of the school.
How could he? Damn him! I'm so angry and disappointed. I’m hurt. If I thought before that she’d hate me in the end, I have no doubt about it now. This drives the wedge of deceit even further between us.
"FUCK!" I shout, bringing my fist down onto the desk. "What the hell have you done?" I scream out into the silence.
"Son?"
I glare up into the face of a man whose betrayal has just driven a stake through my heart.
"Please, just give me a chance to explain," he begs. "It's not what you think."
"Oh, it's not, is it? So, you didn't have Gwen found? You didn't have her followed from town to town? You didn't know about Ella's existence from day one? The neglect? The absence of love? You didn't leave her to suffer at the hands of an addict, for years?" I rage at the top of my lungs.
"I didn't know, damnit!" he shouts back. "I swear to you, if I had known, there's no way in the world I would have left her there. Ryan was like a brother to me. It destroyed me when he died. Do you honestly think I would leave his child to suffer had I known? I didn't know, son," he finishes on a choked sob.
I place my elbows on the desk top and bury my face in my hands. I don't know what to believe. I can't fathom that the loving, generous man who's raised me my whole life, would leave an innocent child to fight her battles alone. But, the pictures… the files…
I lift my head at the sound of his approach. He cautiously sits in the chair across the desk. He appears broken in this moment and my anger starts to recede. I see the pain and regret in his eyes. It's rolling off him in waves.
"Explain. Please help me make sense of all this. Tell me you're the man I've always known you to be. Because, I have to say, I'm really struggling here, Dad. The things Ella told me last night, I honestly don't know how she lived through it all."
He studies his hands, his thumbs twisting together nervously. "I didn't know, Kohl. I did have Gwen located," he begins in a quiet voice. "I hired someone to find her a couple months after she took off. We were all so worried. Y
our mother was crying constantly, worried something bad had happened to her best friend. And then my guilt. I can't even explain how much I hate myself for what happened. When I discovered she was pregnant, I suspected it was Ryan's, but I wanted to be sure before I confronted her. After his funeral, she made it vividly clear that she never wanted to see my face again." He pauses, consumed by memories.
"I'll never forget the first time I saw a clear picture of Ella's sweet little face. The minute I saw those eyes, there was no doubt in my mind who that baby girl belonged to, they were a perfect replica of her dad’s. The next week, I pretended I had to leave town for work and went to Gwen. She was still as angry as the day she left, maybe more so. I begged and pleaded for her to come back home with me. Or to at least tell Ann about the baby. She screamed and yelled, accused me of trying to rip her life away. And she had every right. Every word she spat at me was true. I was the reason she was all alone, I was the reason her daughter was without her dad. I am the reason!" He slaps the desk.
"You've got to forgive yourself for that part dad. You were young and made some mistakes. But she chose her own path. You didn't force her to drink, you didn't force her to swallow those pills, and you didn't make her neglect her own child."
"Forgiving yourself is easier said than done sometimes, Kohl."
"Did you know she was an alcoholic? That she was addicted to pills?"
"No, I had no clue. She was sober when I spoke to her, seemed to be doing well, a little reserved maybe, but nothing to cause alarm. She told me I was the reason her life had been torn apart, and the least I could do is respect her wishes enough to let her live her life in peace. Gwen knew Ann would pressure her to come back. She said she couldn't live in this town without Ryan anymore. Said all their memories were made here and if she was forced to return, it would kill the only remaining piece of her still alive."
"So, you left," I state.
Heartfelt Lies Page 14