by Beth Wiseman
“You are the best mom ever.”
Darlene stopped breathing for a moment. Cara had spoken slowly and clearly, but the way Cara was gazing into Darlene’s eyes made her nervous. “Thank you. I hope my children all think so too.” She forced a smile as her chest tightened.
Cara still had her hand on Darlene’s. “You are my mother now.”
Darlene eased her hand out from under Cara’s and twisted in her chair to face her. “Cara, I’m your teacher, and I am so proud of the work you’ve been doing . . . But I’m not your mother, honey.”
Cara shook her head so hard Darlene was sure it had to hurt. “No! You are my mother now!”
“Cara, listen to me.” Darlene paused, hoping she could make Cara understand. “You are very special. Do you know how special you are?”
Cara’s bottom lip trembled as she leaned forward and put her head on Darlene’s chest. Darlene was so shocked that she didn’t move for a few moments. Then she slowly wrapped her arms around Cara. She was still holding Cara when Dave walked in.
“What’s wrong?” He hurried to them, his eyebrows narrowing as he looked at Darlene. “Did something happen?”
“No, everything is fine,” Darlene said as Cara pulled away, ran to her father, and hugged him.
“Was it a good day?” Dave kissed Cara on the top of her head, but his eyes were on Darlene.
She, Cara, and Dave had settled into a comfortable routine. Every now and then, she’d catch Dave staring at her in a way that made her slightly uncomfortable, almost in admiration, but she assumed it was because she and Cara were making such great progress.
Today, she was worn out and hoped Cara would tell her father it was a good day, as it had been—until Cara’s confusion about Darlene’s role in her life. She was wondering if she should mention the incident to Dave when Cara nodded and told her father it had been a good day.
Dave smiled. “I was surprised to see Cara in your arms, but I see now that progress is being made.” He gazed into Darlene’s eyes for a few moments. “Thank you. For everything.”
Darlene nodded, knowing she was blushing. “Cara is a great student.”
Dave instructed Cara to say good-bye, and they left. Darlene wanted to take some time to think about Cara’s comment before she decided if she should mention it to Dave or Myrna. Even though she didn’t want Cara to be confused, it warmed her heart that she and Cara had grown so much closer.
She left right after Dave and Cara, and as she drove past Layla’s house, she realized she hadn’t seen Layla since she’d dropped off her dress. Sometimes she felt guilty for not making more of an effort to be friends with her.
When Darlene pulled into her driveway at home, she wished she could wave a magic wand and have dinner on the table, the clothes folded, and the house clean. She climbed out of the car and noticed Brad’s car in the driveway too. Hmm . . .
As she opened the door, two aromas mingled into a heavenly scent that she recognized—the lemony fresh smell of a clean house and dinner in the oven. She kicked her shoes off and ran to the kitchen, noticing the spotless den along the way. Brad was stirring something on the stove.
“I do have a fairy godmother!” She ran over and wrapped her arms around him. “What are you doing home so early, and what happened to my house?” He leaned down, and she gratuitously kissed him several times. “And what do I smell?”
“I’m home early because I felt like doing something nice for my wife. The house is clean because I threatened the children. And this is pot roast with carrots and potatoes because you know that’s all I know how to cook. Besides hot dogs.” He winked, and Darlene didn’t think she could love him any more than at that moment.
“You are the best husband on the planet,” she said, meaning it. She stood perfectly still for a moment, then cupped a hand to her ear. “It’s too quiet in here.”
“Kids are all upstairs watching television and being very quiet like I told them to be.”
Darlene grinned. “Really?”
“Oh, and I told them they could all go out to eat pizza Friday night if they’d just keep it down for a while this evening.”
She pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. Brad set a glass of tea in front of her.
“Thank you.” Darlene slumped down in the chair, took a sip of the tea, and sighed. “I’m so tired tonight.”
Brad put the lid on the roast, then took a seat across from her at their breakfast table in the kitchen. “Then maybe you should quit.”
Darlene sat taller. It was okay for her to consider her options, but she didn’t want Brad considering them for her. “No, I love my job, and the extra money is nice.”
Brad reached over and squeezed her hand. “As for the money . . . it’s no longer a concern. Feel free to do all the renovations on this house that you want.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke.
“Oh my gosh. You got partner!” Darlene bounced in her chair. “Didn’t you?”
Brad’s smile broadened. “Yes, my dear. I did.”
She jumped from her chair and into his lap. “I knew you would.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him all over his face. “I’m so proud of you.”
He cupped her cheek, kissed her on the mouth. “So now you can quit, and things will be back to how they used to be.”
Darlene fought the tinge of bitterness that crept into her heart, suddenly not sure if she wanted things to go back exactly as they’d been. “I don’t know . . . it would be hard to quit. I mean, I know I’m tired, and everyone has to pitch in around here, but . . .” She shrugged. “It makes me feel independent.”
“I didn’t know that you didn’t feel independent before. Have I ever told you what to do or not do, what to spend, or anything else?” Brad rubbed his chin as he cocked his head to one side.
“No. That’s not it.” She shrugged again. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” She thought about the money she’d been saving for the floors. Maybe even whisk Brad away for a weekend. There had to be someone who could at least check on the kids. Layla’s name came to mind, but . . .
“Whatever you decide.” Brad kissed her again, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I know. And I am.” She thought about how disappointed Myrna would be if she quit her job after just two months. And what about Cara?
“Maybe everyone would appreciate me a little more around here if I wasn’t working—now that they’ve had a taste of what it’s like when I’m not here.” She nudged Brad playfully, although she was serious.
“We’ve always appreciated you.” He eased her off his lap and walked to the stove. After lifting the lid off the roast, he leaned down and inhaled through his nose. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.”
Darlene pulled her blouse loose from her slacks, then stretched her arms above her head. “I’m going to go change clothes, then I’ll—”
A bloodcurdling scream from upstairs made her gasp midsentence. She couldn’t move for a moment. Then another scream.
“Mom! Dad! Come quick! Hurry!” Ansley’s voice sounded panicked.
Darlene was ahead of Brad as they both darted up the stairs. Her heart was in her throat.
Chapter Twelve
Ansley stood in the hall outside of Grace’s room, crying. Darlene pushed past her younger daughter and into the room, Brad on her heels. Chad was sitting beside Grace on the bed, and Darlene knelt down in front of her.
“Gracie, baby?” Darlene’s mouth moved, but hardly any sound came out as she eyed the blood on Grace’s powder blue shirt. Her baby girl’s hands were covered in blood. Tears were streaming down both her cheeks. Darlene looked down and saw the gashes on the inside of Grace’s thighs, slightly below her white shorts, which were also splattered bright red.
“Who did this to you?” She grasped Grace’s shoulders. “Tell me!”
“Oh, dear Lord in heaven,” Brad said as he pulled Chad out of the way and sat down beside Grace. “Gracie, baby girl. What happened
? Who did this?”
Darlene didn’t take her eyes from Grace as she told Ansley to hurry and get some wet cloths. “What happened?” She glanced back and forth between Grace and Chad. Grace couldn’t catch her breath, so she turned to Chad, who was also crying.
“She—she did this to herself, Mom.” Chad swiped at his eyes.
“What?” Brad glared at his son, then looked back at Grace.
Darlene touched Brad on the leg. She could feel him trembling. When Ansley walked back into the room carrying a wet rag, Darlene asked everyone to leave. Brad started to argue, but he finally took Ansley and Chad by the shoulders, and they all went downstairs.
Darlene took a deep breath as she sat beside Grace on the bed and began to clean her wounds. She silently prayed and thanked God that Grace’s wounds weren’t deeper. She might have scars, but she didn’t need stitches. She left once to get antibiotic ointment, and when she returned, Grace was still crying just as hard as when she and Brad had first walked in. Grace just kept sobbing and saying how sorry she was, over and over again.
“It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.” Darlene was repeating herself too, but she didn’t know what else to say. Her main focus was on comforting Grace, even though her mind was spinning. Why would her beautiful daughter do this to herself?
Four fresh cuts ran along the inside of Grace’s thighs, and on the top of her legs, smaller wounds were scabbing over, making it heartbreakingly clear that this was not the first time Grace had done this to herself.
After she finished applying the antibiotic cream, Darlene couldn’t control the flood of tears that poured down her cheeks. “Why, baby? What made you do this?” She blotted her eyes, thinking maybe she should have let Brad handle this. But she couldn’t bear to leave Grace yet. Grace was so hysterical. She just kept shaking her head and apologizing. Darlene felt helpless.
After a while, she convinced Grace to lie down, and Darlene stayed with her until she fell asleep. She stared at her daughter, unsure of what to do. Where to go? Who to call? Why had Grace done this? Darlene felt like she might vomit.
Brad eased the door open, his eyes bloodshot. Darlene put a finger to her lips. “She’s sleeping,” she mouthed.
Brad motioned for her to come out into the hall.
“Chad said he knew she’d done this once before, but never this bad.”
“What?” Darlene lowered her eyelids as more tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Why didn’t he tell us?”
“I’ve already torn into him, Dar. He was just trying to keep a promise to Grace to not tell.”
“Keep a promise?” She hung her head and started to cry again, then whispered, “Why would Grace try to kill herself, Brad? Why? Why?” She fell into his arms, muffling her cries against his chest, gripping his white shirt until her knuckles throbbed. She’d never felt like more of a failure in her entire life. Forcing herself away from him, she stared into his eyes. “What do we do?”
She needed him to be in charge. Darlene didn’t have the strength. But when he just shrugged and shook his head, Darlene spoke up. “We need to call someone. A counselor, a psychiatrist, someone like that.” She dabbed at her eyes, knowing she needed to pull it together. For Grace’s sake.
Brad shook his head right away. “No. Let’s talk to her more after she’s slept. I don’t think we need to involve anyone else.” He paused. “It’s a small town. Everyone would hear about this.”
“I don’t care!” she fired back in a loud whisper.
“Well, I bet Grace would care.” Brad’s tone was equally as defensive. “I doubt she wants her friends at school to know about this.” He held up a finger at Darlene, the way he often did with the kids. “Just wait. Don’t do anything yet.” Darlene pushed his finger away, brushed past him, and darted down the stairs two at a time.
She was in front of Chad in a matter of seconds. “How dare you know something like this and not tell us.”
Chad sniffled but held his chin high. Ansley was crying, and Darlene could hear Brad coming down the stairs. “Ansley, go upstairs and sit with your sister until I come get you.”
Ansley nodded but was crying too hard to speak. Darlene turned to Chad again. “Tell us what is going on. Grace has done this before?”
Brad put a hand on Darlene’s shoulder. “Ease up, Dar.”
She spun around with the fury of a woman whose child was in danger. “Don’t tell me to ease up.” She turned back to Chad. “Tell us.”
Chad’s face was blotchy and wet. He wiped his nose with his hand. “I only know of one time.”
“Don’t you think that’s one time too many?” Darlene’s voice rose an octave as a tear rolled down her cheek. “When?”
Chad’s voice squeaked. “Not that long ago, and she promised it was the only time and that she’d never do it again . . . I’m sorry, Mom.” Chad’s bottom lip quivered as he blinked back tears.
Brad stepped up beside Darlene. “It’s okay, son. Go up to your room.” Once Chad was upstairs, he turned to Darlene. “This isn’t his fault.”
She faced off with him, her insides feeling like a volcano about to erupt. “I didn’t say it was his fault.” She hung her head, then looked back up at him. “I just need some answers, Brad. I don’t understand why our beautiful little girl would cut herself up like that. Why would she do that?”
Brad put a hand on his hip. “She’s not trying to kill herself. She would have slit her wrists if she were planning that. I know a guy—”
Darlene didn’t hear the rest. She recalled the razor blades that Brad had found in Grace’s room. “Oh, Brad. That’s what she was planning then. The razor blades.” Darlene started to cry again.
“Honey . . .” Brad rubbed his forehead for a few moments. “Did you hear what I said? I know a guy at work whose daughter did this. Grace was not trying to kill herself, but something is definitely wrong if she’s cutting herself.”
“What’s wrong?”
He raised his shoulders and dropped them slowly. “I don’t know. But according to Paul, his daughter did that for a while, and then she just stopped. Some kids think it’s cool to try.”
“Brad, Grace doesn’t look like a teenager who tried something cool and decided it wasn’t for her. Clearly she’s done this before, and she’s hysterical!”
“Well, you’re hysterical too! Maybe you need to calm down to be able to help your daughter.”
Darlene was sure her blood was beyond boiling, but she knew Brad was right. She took a deep breath, held it for a while, and blew it out slowly. “I think we need to find someone for Grace to talk to.”
“You and Grace are close. You should be the one to talk to her after you’ve both calmed down.” He reached out to her, but she backed away.
Brad threw up his hands. “Okay, Darlene.”
She put her hands on her hips. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t you think we need to work through this together?”
Darlene grunted. “Uh, usually I take care of things while you’re at work.”
Brad hung his head, shook it, then looked back up at her. “I’m going to let that go because I know you’re upset. We’ve always worked through everything together where the kids were concerned.”
Not true. She glared at him. “I’m going upstairs to be with Grace.”
She wasn’t even to the staircase when she heard Brad mumble, “Maybe if you’d been here, not working . . .”
She stopped dead in her tracks.
“I’m sorry, Dar. I didn’t mean that.”
She could hear Brad coming up behind her, but the damage was done. She bolted up the stairs two at a time.
Grace woke up, and it took her a few seconds to decipher why her mother was lying next to her on the bed, facing her, but with her eyes closed. It was dark outside, her room lit only by the Tinkerbell night-light she’d gotten when she was four. Then everything came rushing back to her, and panic took over. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like someone was choking h
er, like an elephant was on her chest. “Mom,” she managed to whisper.
“I’m here, baby.” Her mother jerked up, then wrapped an arm around her.
“I can’t breathe. I’m sorry. I can’t breathe.” As the memories of earlier flashed in her mind, she didn’t know how she was going to survive this. Her parents would never get over this, and neither would she. Stupid, stupid, stupid me.
Her mother pushed the strands of tangled hair from her face. “Everything is going to be all right, Gracie.” Mom kissed her on the forehead and pulled her closer. “Take a deep breath. Mommy is here. You’re going to be okay.” She kissed her again.
Trembling, she tried to do as her mother said, but the air in her lungs spewed forth in shallow gasps mixed with sobs. Mom tightened her hold and rocked back and forth. After a few minutes, Grace felt less panicked. Mom eased her away.
“Grace . . .” Her mother smiled, despite her red, swollen eyes. “You listen to me.” Her voice was firm, but soft and comforting. “There is nothing this family can’t get through.” She paused, brushed a hand through Grace’s hair again. “But, honey, can you tell me what made you do this?”
Grace shrugged, knowing she couldn’t tell her mother her true feelings. She’d never understand how one pain could so completely override a larger pain, give comfort despite the hurt. “Some girls at school used to do it,” she finally said. “And I know it’s wrong, Mom. I’m never going to do it again.”
Her mother kept her gaze fixed on Grace, and it was hard to tell if Mom was buying it.
“Do you want to talk to someone about this?”
Grace’s heart leapt in her chest. “No. You mean like a psychiatrist?” She shook her head. “No, Mom. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’ll just stop. I promise.” Her eyes began to fill at the thought of having to lie down on a couch in a shrink’s office.
“Okay, baby. We’ll see.” Her mother kissed her on the forehead again, then stood up. “Are you hungry? I think we both missed your father’s pot roast.”
Grace had heard everyone fighting downstairs earlier, and she didn’t want to face anyone right now. And she didn’t want to eat. “I’m not hungry.”
