When Smiles Fade

by Paige Dearth

  Jade looked Gracie over. “Yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here, I’m sick of these kids. They get on my nerves. Claire! Get sissy boy here an aspirin so he stops that blubbering!”

  Emma nudged Jade. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Once they were out the door, Gracie quickly got a glass of water and gave Mason one of the pills his mother was hoarding. “Thank you, Gracie,” he said, looking pitifully sad and defeated.

  Meanwhile in the car, Emma was still giving Jade an earful for not giving the boy his pain medication. “Knock it off, Emma. I don’t want to hear it,” she deflected as she pulled the bottle out of her purse and choked one of the large, miraculous pills down her throat. She turned to Emma. “Want one?” she asked, extending the bottle of pills to her.

  “Really, Jade? You don’t want Mason to have them so that you can keep them for yourself?” Emma responded as she pushed Jade’s hand away.

  “Don’t be such a party pooper. Every party has a pooper, that’s why I invited you,” Jade chanted, happy now that she would soon be feeling the effects of the drug.

  “Fuck you, Jade,” Emma responded as she continued to drive. “How did Mason break his arm anyway?”

  “He’s clumsy. Your typical six-year-old boy. Always hurting himself,” she responded as she pulled down the visor to apply her lipstick.

  Emma replayed her mother’s voice telling the doctors, nurses, and teachers that she and Gracie were clumsy too. Her guts twisted as she remembered the feeling of being an isolated and fearful child who was consumed with worry that the next beating would kill her. The not-so-distant memories of the physical pain she endured sent icy shivers up her spine.

  Then she let her thoughts wonder to Mrs. Tisdale, and she realized that if the old woman had lived longer she may have found a way to save her and Gracie from the torture they had endured. Emma wanted to rescue Jade’s children from the prison sentence they had been given without committing any crime. She felt a protectiveness grow inside of her. The same feeling she had willed others to have so that someone would stop her parents. Everyone had failed her, and she wouldn’t allow herself to fail Jade’s children. Emma would give them what she had prayed for so many nights while she nursed her own bruises and attempted to comfort Gracie. She had a fierce desire to take Claire and Mason and raise them as her own. She knew she had to do something to help them escape the psychotic bitch with whom they shared the same DNA. She wouldn’t stop until they were safe.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  A month later, Emma invited Jade and her two children to have dinner at their apartment. Her friend gladly accepted, but grumbled that she wished her stupid kids didn’t have to tag along. Emma had assured her that Gracie would keep them occupied.

  When she showed up at the apartment for dinner with her kids, all of Emma’s silent questions were answered. Jade’s son, Mason, was six years old, and the yellowed skin around his left eye was a sure sign of a black eye on the mend. His eight-year-old sister, Claire, had fresh finger marks on her forearm, as though an adult hand had clamped down on it painfully. Others might not have noticed these clues at all or, if they did, made light of them as typical injuries from the rough games kids played. From having been part of a similar tragic story not so long ago, however, Emma’s antenna was up. She recognized only too well all of the telltale signs of living with an abusive parent.

  Emma and Gracie shared a look confirming that they both knew Mason and Claire were abused children. Wanting to keep the peace, the girls quickly welcomed everyone into their apartment.

  From the moment they arrived Jade proceeded to drink and did not stop. During dinner, Gracie watched as Jade’s intoxication turned her into an evil bitch. Then Gracie cleaned up after the meal while Emma took their guest into the living room. Jade continued to drink until she had passed out on their sofa. Though Emma was turned off by the girl’s love of alcohol, she put on a show for Jade’s children in an attempt to make them feel special.

  Gracie had played with Claire and Mason the whole time. While they were playing Go Fish with a deck of cards that Emma had bought, Claire shimmied over the floor to sit closer to her. Gracie sweetly put her arm around the child. A bond had been formed and Gracie jumped at the opportunity. “Can I share a secret with you guys?”

  Mason and Claire nodded their heads vigorously. They were starved for any adult interaction, even if that person was a young teen, and felt flattered that Gracie would confide in them. “Well, when Emma and I were young my father used to hit us really hard. He did awful things to us, especially my sister. It hurt, it hurt really bad. I don’t know why he did it, but I wish I had told someone. A teacher, a friend, just anyone.”

  “What happened to your dad, Gracie?” Claire asked shyly.

  “He died. He got really sick and died,” she told them.

  “Were you happy when he died?” six-year-old Mason asked with guilt.

  “Yes, I was happy because he couldn’t hurt us anymore. You know, when a mom or dad hits their kids all the time, it means that there’s something wrong with them, not the kids.”

  Claire swallowed hard as her eyes welled with tears. “My mom beats me and my brother. She beats us really bad. She tells us that she wishes we were never born.”

  Mason moved over to his older sister and put his arms around her. Gracie was surprised by how mature he was for a six-year-old. He clearly wanted his sister to feel loved.

  “My mommy is mean to us, Gracie,” the young boy said. “She hits us all the time. See?” he ended, pulling up his shirt and revealing the bruises on his ribs and back.

  Gracie cringed, remembering how those bruises hurt on the inside and outside. Being beaten stripped you of any inherent ability to see the good in yourself. She wrapped her arms around both of them. “What about your dad? Do you ever see him?”

  “No, my mom won’t let us see him. She says he left us after Mason was born, but he didn’t. She made him move out. We talk to him on the phone when she’s at work, but she doesn’t know that. He says he really wants us to live with him and his girlfriend, but the police won’t let us see him. My mom hates him just like she hates us,” Claire revealed with desperation.

  “Why won’t the police let you see your dad?” Gracie asked gently.

  “Because my mom told them that my dad did bad things to me and Mason. She told them that he touched us here,” the girl stated, pointing to her crotch. “When the policeman asked me if my dad touched me there I told them yes because my mom said she’d punish me and Mason real bad if I didn’t. But I miss my daddy so much,” she stated and began to cry.

  Later that night, Emma brought the children into the bedroom and tucked them in for the night. Gracie sat on the side of the mattress with her sister and told her the stories that Mason and Claire had shared with her. Emma’s heart twisted in her chest as she watched the small figures sleeping peacefully. That night, Gracie slept on the floor next to the mattress, in case they woke up during the night looking for someone to comfort them.

  The next morning, Gracie woke early with Mason and Claire. She led them into the kitchen where she began toasting waffles for breakfast. Shortly after, Emma roamed into the room and poured herself a cup of coffee. She sat with her sister and the two children, chatting with them while they ate. Gracie opened the door for Emma. “Last night, Mason and Claire told me that their mom hits them. Just like our dad used to hit us.”

  “Hmmm,” Emma pretended to ponder, “does she hit you every day?”

  Claire timidly responded, “Yeah.”

  “Well, you know that no one should hit kids, right? You’re doing nothing wrong. You’re not making her hit you. Do you understand?”

  The two children nodded in response, but didn’t believe a word of what Emma had just told them. It was typical of children who are beaten to think they somehow provoke the violent behavior in their abuser. The self-blame is brought on by the abuser who never fails to blame the child while beating them.

  Before
Mason and Claire were finished eating breakfast, Jade woke with a full-blown hangover. She stumbled into the bathroom, from where the sound of her puking reached Emma and Gracie. Then she went out to the kitchen, where her children were sitting. When they saw her, both of them froze. Jade stared at them and immediately lit them up.

  “If you two weren’t such a pain in my fucking ass, I wouldn’t have to drink!” she shrieked, spewing venom at them. “I drink so I can numb myself to the reality of being your mother. That stupid, fucking father of yours left me here to take care of you! I never asked for this!”

  Gracie annoyed and feeling protective quickly moved to intervene. “Fuck, Jade, chill out. How can you blame them? They didn’t do anything.”

  “Really? They were born, weren’t they? Besides, who the fuck are you? Why don’t you mind your own fuckin’ business!” she yelled and moved toward Gracie in a threatening manner.

  Emma quickly stood between Jade and Gracie, making it well known by her body language that she would defend her sister. It took every ounce of self-restraint for Emma not to bash Jade’s head in. She knew she was seeing the other side of this reprehensible behavior. For some inexplicable reason, this mother of two had assumed that Emma and Gracie saw nothing wrong in the way she treated her children, not realizing that the sisters had more empathy for the children than most.

  “Let’s go!” Jade screamed, digging her nails into the underside of her daughter’s arm.

  Claire flinched from her mother’s vicious grip, and Emma could see fear of the inevitable beating that lay ahead beginning to build in the two small children. She flashed back in time, feeling the helplessness and wishing beyond hope that either God or someone else would end their misery.

  “Jade,” she called out, “why don’t you guys just stay here today? We can hang out for a while and—”

  “No, I can’t!” she snapped, cutting Emma off in mid-sentence. “I have to get these two brats home.”

  Emma’s temper flared. “What for, Jade?” she asked, turning sarcastic. “What’s so important that you have to rush home?”

  “I just can’t today!” Jade shot back. Then she softened. “Look, Emma, I’m sorry. I just need to get them home. But how ’bout if we hang out later tonight?”

  “Okay,” Emma told her, her mind racing. “I’ll pick you up around seven.”

  “Yeah, that’ll work. I’ll see you later,” Jade said.

  The children walked over to Gracie and took turns hugging her. Then they turned to Emma. Mason hugged her first, and when it was Claire’s turn the small girl squeezed her as tight as she could and whispered, “Please help us.”

  Emma had no choice now. She couldn’t stand by, knowing exactly what was happening to the children and still look at herself in the mirror. She had been officially called to duty.

  Just before seven that evening, Emma parked on the street in front of Jade’s house and knocked on the front door. Claire answered. She had a fresh black eye and a small scab was forming on her split lip.

  “Are you all right?” Emma asked.

  “Yeah,” the child replied, averting her face shamefully.

  Emma walked into the house. Jade’s son had fresh bruises on his face and arms. Just then, his mother came down the stairs from the second floor.

  “Hey,” she called out to the children, “be in bed by nine o’clock and don’t do anything stupid. You two hear me?”

  The children stood in the foyer like two soldiers and nodded, not daring to utter a word in reply.

  When they were outside, Emma suggested that Jade drive. She agreed and opened the garage door so they could get into her car.

  “Oh, wait!” Emma said. “Pull over next to my car. I have to get something.”

  She got back into Jade’s car with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a six-pack of beer. She smiled at her evil companion mischievously. “I was thinking we could do a little drinking before we go to the bar. It would save us some money.”

  Jade beamed. “Damn, you’re my kind of woman!”

  “I thought you’d like the idea. Let’s go park down by the train station. No one will be there at this time,” Emma suggested.

  The two drove for a little over a mile and parked. In a replay of her last, fateful night with Jake, Emma poured the liquor for both of them and pretended to drink. A little more than halfway through the bottle of Jack Daniels and four beers later, Jade passed out on the car’s front seat. After Emma had managed to get her into the passenger seat, she moved behind the wheel and drove back to Jade’s house.

  She parked the car in the garage and pulled Jade back over into the driver’s seat. Then she put the automatic garage door control in the woman’s hand and placed it on her lap. With the engine still running, Emma got out of the car and used the button on the wall to close the garage door behind her. Emma felt a surge of relief for Jade’s children as she got into her Chevy Cavalier and started for home. By the time Emma entered Ambler, fifteen minutes had passed and Jade was dead from carbon monoxide poisoning.

  At Double Visions the next evening, Emma pretended to be just as shocked as all the other dancers at Jade’s misfortune.

  “The police report said her alcohol level was well beyond what she could handle,” Shiver explained to them. “Apparently she passed out in the car with the engine still running, but she had already closed the garage door. She has two small children. I understand they placed the kids with Child Protective Services until they can investigate the father further. At one point, Jade told me the father had sexually abused them, but the older one, Claire, just told the police that her mother had forced her to lie about their father. I heard the kids were pretty banged up when they found them in the house alone and they told the police that Jade had been beating them. The whole situation is a nightmare. Jay is going to do a fundraiser for them to collect money for their college tuition. So we should all plan to help,” she added.

  Emma sat listening with a concerned look on her face, but inside, she was elated. She had done what no one was able to do for her and Gracie when their innocence was being beaten out of them.

  It was her euphoria over Jade’s death that made Emma acknowledge to herself that she had done the right thing. She considered what she had done to Pepper and Jake. And now Jade. She tried to feel a twinge of sadness as she focused on each of the three individually, but failed. She had no regrets at all. On the contrary, she actually felt immense satisfaction at having killed all of them. She had killed Jade because her children needed someone to rescue them from their life of pain. In Mason and Claire, she had seen her own miserable childhood and Gracie’s. She had intervened, just as she had hoped in vain someone would when she herself had been a battered child.

  She thought about Mrs. Tisdale. She had loved that old woman, and if there was still a shred of tenderness in her heart, it had been planted there by her warmth and affection. She loved Gracie and Brianna too, but she had to try very hard to love; it wasn’t a natural feeling for her. Emma had been raised in a loveless home and her parents had no love to spare for their children. A cruel combination of being ignored and heaped with abuse had made her incapable of forming strong attachments to others. She was now almost seventeen years old, without ever having been in a romantic relationship with a boy. On one level, her lack of intimacy bothered her. On another, she had no interest in men at all—until the night she met Ethan Miller.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  It was two thirty in the morning and Emma had just arrived home from Doubles. Pulling up to the apartment, she noticed that all of the lights were on and immediately knew something was wrong. She rushed out of the car to find Gracie. Entering the apartment like a gladiator about to take on his opponent, she found her sister sitting on the sofa with a stranger.

  “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my apartment?” she demanded.

  As the stranger looked on, Gracie ran to her sister and threw her arms around her. Finally the guy stood and extended his hand.<
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  “I’m Ethan Miller,” he said simply. “I was walking home when I heard Gracie here screaming. Some guys broke in through the bedroom window and, um, well, I think they kind of roughed her up.”

  “Gracie, what happened? What did they do to you?” Emma asked in a calm, firm voice. She held her sister at arm’s length so she could examine her properly.

  The side of Gracie’s face was bruised and her shirt was torn. The girl just kept crying. Knowing that her little sister was too upset to speak she turned her attention to Ethan.

  “So you busted through my door to save some kid you didn’t even know?”

  He nodded his head. “I was just trying to help. That’s all. I’ve seen the two of you around the neighborhood and just wanted to make sure she was okay. I’m gonna roll out now,” he said, heading for the door. Just before he left, he turned to the younger girl and said, “You take care of yourself, Gracie.”

  The moment she heard the door close behind him, Emma moved her sister over to the sofa. “Gracie, tell me everything,” she said. “I need to know what the fuck happened here.”

  Gracie explained that two boys, older than her, had come in while she was sleeping on the sofa. She had woken up when one boy grabbed her breasts while the other began pulling her pajama bottoms off. She had fought back and her resistance had angered them. They had begun hitting her. Gracie pulled her shirt up and showed Emma the bruises down her right side.

  “Did they have sex with you, Gracie?” her sister asked.

  “One of the boys was holding me down and the other got my pants off, but that’s when Ethan busted in and stopped them. They got scared and ran.”

  Emma was livid that these two boys had thought they could just waltz into her home and harm her sister. Her anger threatened to consume her until Gracie’s sobs broke into her thoughts.