Close to Home

by Liz Lee

  Blood oozed up and she cradled the injured hand, thankful for pain.

  That’s how her father found her.

  He didn’t say anything, just closed the door and gently moved her to the sink, washed her hand with soap and hot water, then wrapped it in a million paper towels.

  “Keep pressure on it,” he said, and then he swallowed her in the best, most horrible hug ever and she wept until she was all cried out.

  Once she reached that point, her father led her to the table and sat her down then poured her a glass of cold water and handed it to her.

  She sipped the water even though her throat hurt.

  And then she set the glass down on the table carefully. “He didn’t even leave a note, Daddy. He just left. I hate him. I hate him so much right now.”

  Her father didn’t argue with her. He let her vent. When she was done, he hugged her again and said, “He do that to your face?”

  Her entire body shuddered and she closed her eyes. “No. I did that when he was in the middle of a nightmare.”

  “Good. It’d be a shame to have to kill him.”

  She laughed and cried at the same time like she did every time she watched Steel Magnolias, and something painful flipped in her heart.

  “I really do hate him, Daddy.”

  “Hate only hurts the hater, Kacie Jo. I understand what you’re feeling, but try not to hold onto it too long if you can.”

  He was right. She didn’t hate Donovan at all. But that was the only word she could think of for the anger and pain coursing through her.

  “Where do you think he went?” she asked.

  “I imagine we’ll know that before too long,” her daddy said.

  She wiped her tears away with the back of her nightgown sleeve and wished she had something other than industrial strength paper towels with which to blow her nose.

  And just like that, her father was holding out his white handkerchief, like he had when she’d been little, sitting next to him in church on Sunday mornings. Church never failed to make her sneeze, and Ike Jenkins never failed to provide her with handkerchiefs. She’d sometimes pretended to sneeze just to test him. He never failed.

  Blowing her nose she tried not to cry at the memory. Her baby wasn’t going to have those memories. Her baby wasn’t going to know what it was like to have a daddy come running to the rescue, to have a daddy carry you inside and tuck you in when you fell asleep in the car. Her baby wasn’t going to have any of that because Donovan Nelson was a coward.

  Well damn him anyway. She wasn’t going to have any more of it. She wasn’t. She wasn’t going to sit around waiting to see what happened next.

  She handed the handkerchief back. “Thank you.”

  Her father smiled sadly as he pushed the folded cloth back into his pocket. “Did you call your brother?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t want to. I still don’t.”

  For a second, Ike looked like he wanted to protest, but finally he accepted her decision.

  “You do realize chances are he’ll be back. I can understand if you want to end this. I’m behind you whatever you decide. But you need to know, Donovan’s sick. There’s a chance he’s just clearing his head. He could come back ready to get the help he needs.”

  “He’s not sick, Daddy. He’s selfish. I know he’s struggling with what happened at war. He won’t talk about it. That’s on him. He doesn’t want to get better.”

  For the longest time her father stared at her, and she wondered what he was remembering.

  “This kind of sick doesn’t work like that. I wish it did. You don’t get better. You learn to cope.”

  Kacie Jo didn’t know anything about Donovan’s kind of sick, but she did know one thing.

  “Well, if this is learning to cope, I don’t want any part of it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Donovan didn’t know where to go. He couldn’t go to Grady’s and he couldn’t go to Ike’s. He didn’t want to take a chance on seeing Ali again, so finding Sam was out of the question. What he needed right then was to disappear, completely, totally. Before he lost it.

  He’d covered a story on vets who lost it. Who spiraled out of control. Who lived on the streets or in homeless shelters or in places provided by families who refused to turn their backs on the men or women who’d given everything, even their minds, for the greater good. He couldn’t do that to Kacie Jo.

  He carried his bag and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He should’ve said something to her. At least said I’m sorry. Now that he was gone, he didn’t think going back was an option. Not after…he could have hurt her.

  He turned the corner and spotted Caldale High in the distance. Seeing the school brought back memory upon memory. His days with Grady, working on the school paper, barely passing chemistry. Graduating and thinking he’d never be stuck in this Podunk town.

  Funny how impressions changed. Right now he’d give anything to be able to stay here with Kacie Jo and their baby.

  Jesus, he was leaving again. He had to. Sometimes life didn’t give many choices.

  As that thought crossed Donovan’s mind, he knew where he was going, where he had to go.

  Slowly, his steps led the way to the long gravel walk. The scrawny pecan tree he remembered had grown. The empty flowerbeds were now lined and planted with neat rows of shrubs and flowers.

  The racing stripes were still there, and the pink had barely faded, but the trailer didn’t look quite so run down.

  His hand shook as he reached forward to knock, but the door opened before he got a chance. Standing there in front of him was his mother, a worried frown on her lined face.

  She didn’t stop to ask questions just enfolded him in her arms and welcomed him home.

  The hug was one of the first in a long time. Such a long time, Donovan hadn’t even realized he’d wanted it. But now that his mother held him, he knew he’d missed her.

  He pulled away, tried to control the ache in his throat. “The place looks good.”

  “It should. I’ve spent a fortune on it.” Her whiskey and tobacco voice hadn’t changed a bit in all this time, and Donovan welcomed the sameness, the fact that she looked at him without a single expectation.

  Stepping back she opened the door. “Come on in. I figured you’d get here sooner or later.”

  He barely heard the note of censure she tried to cover. Ike had told him she was hurt at not being invited to the wedding. What would she say when he told her he’d left Kacie Jo already after nearly hurting her? That he was one move shy of falling over into crazy?

  He walked through the doors and waited for the onslaught of emotion he always felt when he remembered this place. It didn’t happen.

  Maybe it was because he was too busy watching his mother, noticing how she’d aged, how she still wore skintight leggings and long button down shirts. How her hair was red now and bigger than ever. How her lipsticked lips cracked from years of cigarette smoking. How her nails were still manicured to the max and rings still sparkled from every finger.

  Tammy Nelson looked the same only tougher. Right then, she was looking at him with worry on her face, and he realizd he might make her day by being there, but he wouldn’t alleviate her worry any time in the near future.

  “You look good.” He held himself back. He didn’t know why he felt like a stranger, but he did.

  “You, too. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you some sweet tea and you can tell me why you’re here.” She turned and walked away but called back, “And don’t cover it up. I want the truth.”

  Donovan dropped onto a couch he didn’t remember and set his bag on the floor. He took the time to look around, to see what he could learn about his mother. Anything to keep his mind off the hell playing games in his brain.

  The house was clean and smelled like pine and citrus instead of day old smoke. A floral arrangement graced her coffee table and a Southern Living magazine rested next to the television.

  Paintings of gardens and g
ates hung on her walls, and next to the door he noticed a Serenity Prayer plaque.

  Maybe his mother had learned to accept the things she couldn’t change and change the things she could. God, he hoped so. Suddenly it meant more than anything to him that his mother have a chance at happiness.

  She walked back into her living room carrying the iced tea in the same green crystal she’d favored before he left. Once she set it in front of him, she sat in an easy chair to his side and waited.

  As she waited Donovan thought how strange this all was. They weren’t going to play at a reunion scene. Weren’t going to cry and apologize. She didn’t act like either of them had anything to apologize for.

  Other than those few brief moments when he’d almost knocked on the door and he’d seen her face for the first time in years, it was as if he’d never been away.

  He liked the fact they didn’t have to wade through the mess. It was still there, but it wasn’t the most important thing for the moment. They’d get back to it sooner or later. As if sooner or later was a given.

  Instead, Tammy Nelson wanted to know what had brought her son to her door and surprisingly, Donovan found he wanted to tell her.

  “I left Kacie Jo this morning.”

  His mother didn’t say a word, just sipped her her iced tea, pinky held out in regal fashion like always. For the first time, Donovan realized he’d learned all about the power of silence when interviewing from his mother. She’d sit there all day without saying a word to get him to spill his guts.

  “I had a bad spell over in B’en Ai. I lost my contract with the network, or I guess I walked out on it. I saw a few doctors, went to a few therapy sessions, and then I came back here.”

  His mother nodded her head and waited.

  “I messed up with Kacie Jo, but I made it right. And I thought I could be a good husband, but then yesterday….” He stopped. How could he describe yesterday and this morning? Did he even want to?

  He looked across at his mother and realized he did want to. Did want her to hear it all. To know there was a very good chance her son was crazy and maybe even dangerous.

  “Yesterday, I saw someone from B’en Ai and I sort of lost it. It was like I was having some sort of out of body experience. I was there, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t stop shaking. Then when Kacie Jo and I went home, I wanted her to fight with me. I can’t even describe the anger. But it scared me. Kacie Jo wouldn’t fight, though. And then, this morning, I...” He let the words trail off as he remembered the horror of waking up to see his wife holding her pillow like a shield. “I could’ve hurt her and the baby. Could’ve done worse than hurt. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

  He stopped and took a long drink of the tea, holding onto the glass with shaking hands.

  “Well, that sounds like a good reason for leaving, Donovan.”

  Her answer surprised him. When he started, he figured she’d tell him to get over his whiny-assed self and get back to his pregnant wife before he lost the thing that mattered most to him.

  “Sounds to me like you’re willing to give Kacie Jo up to protect her and there’s nothing wrong with that motivation, son.”

  Relief flooded through him. He’d been telling himself the same thing all morning.

  “You’re not the first person to feel this way, and you won’t be the last. But you better realize that by walking away, you’ve set Kacie Jo free. She might not let you come back. What then?”

  He’d made that decision when he’d left the house this morning. When he closed the door, he was saying goodbye to a life he could have been happy with. Could have if he didn’t go crazy somewhere along the way.

  He couldn’t take the risk.

  “So you’ll let me stay?”

  His mother put down her tea and crossed to him. Taking his hands, she waited until his eyes met hers. “Donovan, this is your home. I’ll never turn you away. I’m your mother and if I could do anything in the world to make up for the past, I would. But I can’t, so I have to make sure I don’t have anything to make up for in the future. Of course I’ll let you stay.”

  Donovan swallowed the ache that returned to his throat and nodded his head because he didn’t trust himself to speak.

  Then his mother continued. “But son, you can’t keep running. This thing you feel, this blackness or fog or whatever it is, it’s not going anywhere. It’s going to keep getting bigger and bigger until you face it or it kills you.”

  She was right. “I know,” he said over the lump in his throat.

  “But don’t expect Kacie Jo to understand this, Donovan. You turned your back on love. She’s going to hurt a long time over that.”

  His mother was right. But he hadn’t turned his back on love. He’d never stop loving Kacie Jo. Sometimes, though, love wasn’t enough.

  One month later

  Kacie Jo opened the box from Eliza and smiled. Just what she needed. Another maternity shirt. At least it was red. “Thanks Eliza.”

  “I thought you might want something to lift your spirits. And you told me if I brought chocolate, you’d never speak to me again.”

  Kacie Jo laughed. She had indeed threatened Eliza. The week after Donovan left she’d somehow decided there was nothing in the world a gallon of Blue Bell Rocky Road wouldn’t fix. And Eliza had been more than willing to support that assertion. That week the two of them had put away more chocolate than she’d thought possible. Ice cream, truffles, cookies. The form didn’t matter. And in the end she’d discovered chocolate couldn’t take away the pain of Donovan’s betrayal. It only dulled it for a moment.

  Three more weeks had passed. In that time she’d learned that Donovan had returned to his mother’s. But he hadn’t bothered to call, hadn’t written an I’m sorry note for her to burn or throw away or tear into a million pieces.

  In a town the size of Caldale, it was pretty difficult to stay away. But for resourceful type it must be possible because she hadn’t seen him.

  Eliza shook out the shirt Kacie Jo had just unwrapped. “I know you said no more gifts, but I bought this for half price. And it came with matching shorts. As long as you’re pregnant, you at least deserve cute clothes.”

  Kacie Jo laughed again, surprised at how easy it was to do. Somehow in the last few days, her life had returned to seeming normalcy. “You think these tent shirts are cute?”

  “They’re adorable. I can’t wait to see you in them.”

  How strange it was to think of the last time Eliza had helped her pick out the perfect outfit. The low-slung jeans, the cropped top. The come-and-get-me seduction clothes were hung up in the back of her closet next to her mother’s shirt. She wondered if she’d ever fit in them again.

  Not that she’d ever wear clothes like that, but they’d made her feel free and flirtatious. Shoot, they’d made her feel like a goddess.

  And look where she’d ended up. Pregnant and alone.

  She shook her head to ward off the tempting depression. She wasn’t alone. She had good friends who thought tent shirts were adorable and a brother and father who loved her. She wasn’t going to wallow around in self-imposed grief anymore.

  She held the shirt up to her chest and twirled around. “Before long I’ll have to wear these clothes all the time. For being so little this baby is certainly taking up its fair share of space.”

  “According to the books, you’re right on target. Not too big, not too small.” Eliza dug in the bag she’d brought over and handed over yet another package.

  “What’s this?”

  Eliza refused to tell so Kacie Jo opened the bag. A rose patterned tea set. Just like the one she’d played with as a child before she knew Eliza, before her mother died. Her first real baby gift. Tears welled up before she could stop them, and she brushed them away. “It’s beautiful. How did you know?”

  “Grady felt the need to take me out with him so he could flirt shamelessly with some new sales clerk. While we were out, he saw this in the window and after he told me about it, I kn
ew the bottles I’d planned on buying were out of the question.”

  Kacie Jo set down the tea set and hugged her friend. How had she ever gotten so lucky? Maybe the chocolate week had been a shared purging of men from the system. “It’s better like this, Eliza.”

  No need to explain what she meant. After a few seconds, Eliza agreed. “I know. I just wish I’d had your guts.”

  Kacie Jo brushed her hand over her stomach. “Oh yeah. That turned out just great.”

  Eliza refused to give in. “No, I mean it, Kacie Jo. I know we’re at the point that I’m supposed to sit here and help you come up with all the reasons Donovan Nelson is a supreme jerk. And I can do that. I think we’re on reason number one hundred three.”

  Kacie Jo didn’t bother interrupting and telling her it was more like one thousand three.

  “But you took a chance and went for what you wanted. And even though it didn’t end well, at least you had that one great love. When someone talks about passion, you’ll get it. When someone talks about the earth standing still from a simple look, you’ll know exactly what they’re talking about. And even though it hurts, at least you had the experience.”

  Kacie Jo didn't want to think about passion or the emptiness it left behind.

  “It’s not worth it, Eliza. It’s not. Nothing is worth waking up alone and wondering if you’ll ever meet someone who can make you feel like that again. It’s not worth feeling like a failure in everything. And the chances of finding that perfect someone and having it all work out, finding happily ever after, are pretty near impossible.”

  “Don’t say that, Kacie Jo.” Eliza spoke with such intensity, Kacie Jo wondered what had happened to her friend. “Don’t say it’s not worth it. Not when you’re pregnant and you’re going to have a beautiful, perfect baby who will love you no matter what.”

  Guilt washed over her at Eliza’s words and Kacie Jo cradled her stomach, hoped the baby hadn’t understood the words. “You’re right. And I don’t regret this child. Not for a minute. But I do regret the pain I feel now. I can’t help it, Eliza. Some days I wake up and it’s like the air is knocked out of me and I wonder what I’m going to do.”