by Marie Force
What did it matter anyway? What was done was done. My grandmother had left everything she had to me when she died the year before Elena was assaulted. I’d put every dime of that inheritance toward caring for Elena while I was still in school. The money lasted five years, and by then, I was making enough to pick up the tab myself. I wanted only the best for her, and that’s what she’s gotten.
She’s surrounded by love and sunshine and happiness, all the things she’d once been to me.
From the outside, the facility resembles a high-end resort, but that illusion is shattered when we walk inside to encounter patients in wheelchairs and a nursing station where I sign us in.
“Hey, Emmett,” Katie, one of the nurses, says. She’s wearing a yellow T-shirt, white shorts and black Chuck Taylor’s. The staff dresses in regular clothing, which is another thing I liked right away about the place. After touring a dozen facilities, this one stood out as a jewel. Elena’s parents and I had looked no further after coming here.
Katie is young and blonde and pretty. I’ve gotten the feeling in the past that she might’ve been interested in me if we’d met under different circumstances.
“This is my girlfriend, Leah. Leah, this is Katie, one of the nurses.”
The two women shake hands.
“Nice to meet you,” Leah says.
“Likewise,” Katie replies. “Elena is in the garden if you want to head out there.”
“Thank you.” With my hand on Leah’s lower back, I guide her through the hallways to the door that leads to the vegetable garden the residents tend to.
“You introduced me as your girlfriend,” she says.
“You caught that, huh?”
“Yep. That’s relationship language you’re tossing around there.”
“Is it? I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in a relationship before.”
“Have you slept with her?”
“Who?” I ask, startled by the question. “Katie? No.”
“She looks at you like she knows you that way.”
“I’ve gotten the feeling on a few occasions that she’d like to know me that way, but nothing has ever happened.”
“Is it okay that I asked?”
“Of course.” And it is. Whereas a question like that would’ve infuriated me from any other woman, with Leah I don’t want there to be any secrets. “You can ask me anything you want.”
She smiles at me, pleased by my answer.
If she’s pleased, I am, too. That’s how far gone I am over her.
“Relationship alert.”
I pinch her lightly on the ass, making her laugh. “Shut up, pit bull.”
I spot Elena squatting next to pumpkin plants, the large sun hat I gave her for her birthday leading me to her. I tighten my hold on Leah’s hand, hoping this will go smoothly for all our sakes.
“Elena.”
At the sound of my voice, she lets out a happy squeal, stands and launches herself at me the way she always does when I come to visit. Her hat flies off her head when she collides with me.
I release Leah’s hand so I can catch Elena, who hugs me for at least two minutes.
“I missed you!” she says
“I missed you, too.” I kiss her forehead and smile down at her. The big brown eyes looking up at me are filled with childlike elation. The staff says she’s like a kid on Christmas when I come to visit. I never feel like I deserve that level of glee from her, but I’d never do anything to dampen her joy. “I brought a friend I’d like you to meet. This is Leah. Leah, this is Elena.”
“Hi, Elena. I’m so happy to meet you.”
Elena shakes Leah’s hand because she’s too polite not to, but I sense her uncertainty about this new friend. I’ve never brought anyone to meet her, so she probably gets that me bringing Leah signifies something major.
“Tell me about your garden,” Leah says. “What’re you growing?”
“Corn and pumpkins this time of year,” Elena says, her tone dull and flat.
“The pumpkins are so big.”
Elena nods in agreement. “They’re not ready until they turn orange, though.”
“They’re almost there. Can I help you with the weeding?”
Elena shrugs. “If you want to.”
“I’d love to. I used to weed my mother’s garden every summer.”
“What did she grow?”
“We planted impatiens and geraniums.”
“Geraniums like the sun. Impatiens don’t.”
“Right! My mom taught me that.”
“What happened to your arm?”
“I hurt it in an accident, but it’s better now.”
“I got hurt in an accident, too.”
I wait, breathless to hear what else she will say, but she doesn’t elaborate. She never talks about what happened with Drew, and I’m not sure if she even remembers. I hope she doesn’t.
While I stand back and watch, they finish weeding the section Elena was working on when we arrived, chatting the entire time about flowers and sun and what vegetables they grew at certain times of year in the community garden.
I can see that Elena is getting tired, so I ask if they want to go inside and get something to drink.
Elena leads us to the cafeteria, where she takes great pleasure in giving Leah a tour of the place and detailing the beverage options.
“Lemonade sounds good to me,” Leah says.
“Emmett likes unsweetened tea,” Elena says, making a face.
“So gross,” Leah says. “How can he drink it without sugar?”
“I know!”
They continue to talk about me like I’m not there, and I let them. I’m so blown away by how amazing Leah is with her, how she’s put Elena right at ease and won her over just by being herself. My heart feels too big for my chest as I watch them talk and laugh together about movies and TV shows and celebrity gossip that includes Flynn and Marlowe and talk of Hayden’s wedding.
Elena knows they’re my friends, but she’s never asked to meet them. Maybe I should make her day sometime and bring them here. I’m not sure why I haven’t done that before now, probably because I was always ashamed of how Elena had ended up here. But Leah has helped me to make peace with the fact that it wasn’t my fault, that I did the best I could for her, and even though it wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t the one who put her here.
There’s comfort in accepting that, even if a part of me will always blame myself for the role I played. I couldn’t have known what would happen next, and I was only looking out for my friend by confronting her abusive boyfriend. I wish that I’d beaten the shit out of him rather than trying to reason with him.
By the time we leave two hours after we arrive, Leah and Elena are best friends.
“When can you come back?” she asks Leah.
“We’ll come back next Sunday.”
I start to tell her I only come once a month because that’s all I can handle, but having her here made it easier. If she wants to come back next week, we’ll come back next week.
“I’ll bring you the magazine with the pictures from Hayden and Addie’s wedding,” Leah says.
“I can’t wait!”
They hug, and then Elena hugs me. “Thank you for bringing me a new friend.”
“You’re welcome.” I’m humbled by her pleasure in the simplest of things.
“I love you, Emmett.”
“Me too, sweet girl.” I kiss her forehead. “Behave yourself.”
She scoffs. “I always do.” She walks us to the main doors and waves as we walk away.
“She’s delightful,” Leah says. “Thank you so much for bringing me to see her.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“I hope it’s okay that I told her we’d come back next week.”
I hold the passenger door to my car for her and wait for her to get settled. “It’s fine.”
“We can come every week.”
“We don’t have to.”
“I know we don’t ha
ve to. I want to.
I go around the car to get into the driver’s seat.
She looks over at me. “Can I ask…”
“Whatever you want.”
“She seems very… normal, despite the obvious challenges. I just wonder why she has to be in a facility.”
Sighing, I rest my hand on the wheel. “She has violent rages at times, that are apparently quite something to behold and can last for hours at a time. I’ve never seen it happen, because she doesn’t do it in front of me, but her parents couldn’t handle that, especially after they began to have health problems. The theory is that’s she aware enough to know what was taken from her, and that’s how she deals with it.”
“I see,” she says, nodding with understanding. “Thank you for bringing me into your relationship with her. I know what a big deal that was for you, and I don’t take it lightly.”
I study her adorable face as I try to collect my thoughts.
“What is it?” Leah asks after a long silence.
“You were incredible with her.”
“She’s wonderful. I can see why you love her so much.”
I think about how I used to believe Leah was too young for me, and yet being with her has made me a better man. It’s impossible to spend time with her and not be better for it. I look over at her, taking in the exquisite perfection of her face, the freckles that slay me, the blue eyes that see right through me, the lips that kiss me with such tenderness and love.
“Can you also see why I love you so much?”
She gasps, her mouth opens and then closes just as quickly.
I laugh because nothing amuses me more than speechless Leah.
“You… You said…”
“I said I love you, my adorable, fearless, sexy little pit bull. I love you.”
“I thought you didn’t say those words.”
“I don’t. I never have before, not to anyone, except my grandmother when I was little.”
“Does it… Are you… Does it make you happy to say them to me?”
I nod. “Everything about you makes me happy. Every single thing.”
She takes off her seat belt and hurls herself at me, coming across the center console until she’s half in my lap and still half in her seat. “You love me.”
“I have for a long time.”
“I know,” she says, her eyes gleaming, her smile brighter than the sun. “I could feel it even when you couldn’t say it.
“I’m sorry I took so long to tell you.” I kiss her. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve shown me how you feel in a hundred different ways. I knew, Emmett. I had no doubt.”
“You believed enough for both of us.”
“Tell me again.”
I gather her into my embrace, holding on tight to the woman who changed my life in every possible way. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Let’s go home.”
Odious
A Quantum Short Story
I’ve dreaded this day for months, all that time hoping I wouldn’t have to be involved in my father’s trial. But here I am, back in Nebraska for the first time since I graduated from college and left for New York, intending to stay gone forever. But that was before my father committed murder, forcing me to come back and tell my story again in yet another courtroom.
Thank God, this time Flynn is with me. He never leaves my side, keeping his arm around me until the last second, until I’m called to the stand by the prosecutor to provide testimony as to why my father would’ve wanted my former lawyer dead. I’m here to establish motive, or so the prosecutor told me.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” the bailiff asks.
“I do.”
“Please be seated.”
I take my seat and keep my gaze firmly fixed on my husband’s handsome face, just the way we planned. If I don’t look directly at my father, he can’t hurt me, or so I tell myself.
The door to the courtroom opens and my mother comes in, taking a seat in the back row. Knowing my parents are no longer together, I hadn’t expected to see her here, and her appearance throws me off my game.
Flynn senses something has happened behind him, but he moves to get my focus back on him.
When my eyes meet his, I’m immediately centered again, determined to get through this and get out of here as fast as I possibly can.
“Mrs. Godfrey, could you please state your legal name for the record?”
“Natalie Godfrey.”
“You were previously known as April Genovese and Natalie Bryant. Is that correct?”
“It is.”
“You’re aware that the defendant, Martin Genovese, has been accused of murder in the first degree of your former attorney, David Rogers?”
“I am.”
“And do you see Mr. Genovese in this courtroom today?”
“I do.”
He asks me to identify him, and I gesture to the defendant’s table without looking directly at my father. I look above him, so as not to give him the satisfaction. Flynn and I came up with that plan on the flight from LA.
“Can you please detail your involvement with Mr. Rogers?”
“He provided me with a new identity after I testified against former Governor Oren Stone, who kidnapped and raped me when I was fifteen.”
“Who else knew about your new identity?”
“No one except Mr. Rogers.”
“You didn’t tell a friend, a boyfriend, an associate, the family who took you in after the attack?”
“I told no one.”
“And did Mr. Rogers tell anyone?”
“After I was seen at the Golden Globes with my now-husband, Flynn Godfrey, Mr. Rogers sold the information to the Hollywood Starz TV show. They published it.”
“What happened to you when your connection to April Genovese was made public?”
“I lost my job, my new identity, my anonymity. My husband and I were relentlessly pursued by the media, which threatened our safety.”
“Is it safe to assume the loss of your anonymity was traumatic for you?”
“Extremely. I’d worked very hard to establish a new life for myself after mine was ruined by Oren Stone when I was a teenager. Losing that hard-won new life was like being assaulted all over again.” Emmett had suggested I say that last part if I got the chance. I’m glad I could get it in there. “To know that he did it for money was the worst part.”
“When you heard your father had been accused of murdering Mr. Rogers, were you surprised?”
“Not at all.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“My father would’ve been incensed that Rogers had dragged Stone’s name through the mud and resurrected the story of Stone’s downfall, which my father blamed me for causing. When Stone attacked me, my parents sided with him.”
A loud gasp comes from the juror’s box, and I revel in that sound. They ought to be shocked.
“Why did they side with him?”
“He was my father’s closest friend and his employer. My father chose to protect his relationship with his friend and to protect his job over his own child.”
“Objection,” the defense attorney says. “Hearsay.”
I shrug. No, it isn’t. It’s the truth.
“Sustained,” the judge says.
“Why do you think they sided with him over you?” the prosecutor asks, reframing the question.
“I believe it was because my father cared more about Oren Stone than he ever did about anyone else, including me, my mother and my sisters.” My sisters wanted to be here today to support me. I begged them to stay away. I want none of this to ever touch them. I’m thankful they heeded my wishes.
“Nothing further,” the prosecutor says.
The defense attorney stands, and my stomach clenches. Other than the possibility of having to see my father, this is the only part that makes me truly nervous. “
Did it ever occur to you that your father might’ve killed Rogers to get justice for you?”
“No,” I say.
“Not for one second?”
“Not for one instant. It wasn’t about me. It was about Oren Stone. It was always about Oren Stone for him.”
The defense attorney seems rattled by my certainty. Apparently, that wasn’t what he expected me to say. “Nothing further.”
I take a deep breath and release it, flooded with relief. I came here and did what I needed to without it costing me anything but a day away from home and my work with the childhood hunger foundation Flynn and I have started.
“You may step down, Mrs. Godfrey,” the judge says.
I stand and leave the witness seat, heading directly to my love without sparing my father so much as a glance or another second of my time or attention.
Flynn puts his arm around me and leads me to the door where two of Gordon’s men are waiting to escort us back to the car.
We’re on our way to a clean getaway when I hear my mother calling me. “April, wait. Please wait.”
“You don’t have to,” Flynn says low enough that only I can hear him.
“Please,” my mother says again. “Wait.”
I stop, take another deep breath, release it and then turn to face my mother. She’s aged in the nine years since I last saw her. Her once-dark hair is streaked with gray, and her face bears the ravages of the choices she made.
Her eyes, the same green as mine, fill with tears. “It’s so good to see you.”
I can’t say the same, so I don’t say anything.
Flynn’s fingers dig into my shoulder, letting me know how difficult it is for him to stand there and allow this to happen when all he wants to do is get me the hell out of here, away from these people who hurt me so badly, who turned their backs on me when I needed them most.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I left him. I wanted you to know…”
“I know that already. Livvy told me.”
“You… You’re back in touch with them?”
“I have been for quite some time.”
She seems truly surprised to hear that. Whatever.
