by Elle Casey
A small sound next to her elbow distracts her from her thoughts. Liam is standing there, crestfallen, his lower lip trembling.
“What’s the matter, Li-Li?” she says, unable to keep from lifting him up into her lap. His gangly legs and arms make it difficult, but he seems to need the effort.
“I’m sad.”
“Why are you sad? You love camping.”
“I’m sad because you don’t love camping.” He plays with the button on her shirt, one of the several Helen has brought over.
Nicole sighs. “Maybe I do like camping. I’ve just never been.”
“My dad says you shouldn’t decide if you like something or don’t like something until you try it.”
“Your dad is a very smart man.”
Liam pauses for a long time and she just rubs his back while he works out whatever is bothering him. She’s not expecting his next thoughts.
“Do you remember when I saw you the first time?” Liam asks, his voice tentative and searching.
Her heart stops beating for a moment and then hammers loudly as the fear creeps in. “Yes, I think so.”
“When you were living with that mean man?”
She knows Brian hasn’t told him anything about John, so this whole conversation is making her want to run and get Liam’s dad. But she doesn’t because she’s afraid of upsetting Liam. Maybe it’ll just play out fine and she won’t have to figure out a way to explain physical violence between adults to this innocent angel.
She schools her tone to remain calm. “Yes, I remember.”
“After I saw you, I came home and I didn’t want to talk to anyone.”
Nicole feels like crying, but doesn’t. Liam shouldn’t feel bad just for being honest. “I understand.”
“I decided that I didn’t like you right away, and that’s bad boy stuff.”
“I think that’s normal. That’s okay that you didn’t like me.” She hugs him to make him feel better about being afraid of a monster’s face. He can hardly be blamed for that. She would have done the same thing at his age.
“It’s not okay,” he insists, squirming around until he’s looking at her. “I didn’t do what Daddy said. I didn’t even try to know you first. That was mean.”
The pieces start to fall into place for her. “Are you thinking about the camping thing right now?”
“Maybe…” He looks at her, his sad expression morphing into one a little on the sly side. “But you know after I learned about you and you read me some stories, I liked you. A lot. I like you a lot.” He throws his arms around her neck and clings to her. “I love you, Briana.”
Nicole frowns, only a little incredulous that he’s this clever and sneaky, but forgiving him because he loves her. Despite her being a monster to look at, he says he loves her. His father’s been pretty good at worming his way into her heart; maybe the apple hasn’t fallen that far from the tree.
“Are you trying to con me into going camping?” She’s working hard at keeping the smile away, but it’s a losing battle. Her heart feels like it’s going to explode with happiness.
He pulls away, his expression pure innocence. “What’s con?”
“Trick. Are you trying to trick me?”
His eyes open wide. “Trick you? No, I’m not trying to trick you. You’re a grownup.”
She slides him off her lap and gives him a gentle spank on the rear. “You’re pure trouble, you know that? Just like your daddy.”
He jumps up and down a few times, like he has ants in his pants. “Does that mean you’re gonna try camping before you hate it?”
The little bugger is impossible to keep down. She sighs in defeat. “I guess.”
“Woo hoooo!! We’re going camping!” yells Liam, skipping off down the hallway to tell his dad.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
BRIAN WORKS TO QUICKLY FINISH up a dining room table he agreed to deliver by Friday early afternoon so they can clear the decks for their camping trip. He comes out of the garage workshop to find Helen and Nicole in the living room, having a disagreement.
“What’s going on?” he asks when he sees the look of frustration on Helen’s face.
“I came by to help with Briana’s makeup and she’s giving me a hard time about it.”
“I’m not giving you a hard time about it, I’m just saying that I think you’re being unreasonable.”
Helen looks at Brian and rolls her eyes. “She’s insisting that no amount of make up will make a difference. I don’t agree.”
Brian shrugs. “What’s the harm in trying? If you don’t like it, you can take it off. I don’t care either way. I just thought you’d be more comfortable trying to alter your appearance a little before we get out of town.”
Nicole stares at him, her hands on her hips. “It’s not going to make me pretty.”
He frowns at her, wondering what her issue is. “Nicole, you’re already pretty. That’s not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point!” she says loudly before storming off to her room.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” says Helen, sighing. “I thought I was helping, but apparently not.”
“Just give me a minute, would ya?” He leaves Helen to her own devices and follows Nicole to her room. Knocking on the door softly, he turns the handle, not waiting for an invitation before going in. She’s sitting on the edge of her bed with her back to the door. He walks into the room and closes the door almost all the way.
“Do you want to talk about this?”
“Yes.”
He’s taken aback, not expecting that answer at all. She always says no to talking about the deeper issues.
“Okay, good. So let’s talk.” He sits down next to her and takes her hand, pulling it into his lap. “What’s going on?”
“You’re trying to make me pretty.”
“Nooo … I’m trying to make you feel safe.”
“You wish I was prettier.”
Brian frowns. This is veering off on another track entirely, but he’s not opposed to going there. He’s just surprised she’s doing it now, with Helen waiting in the other room.
“I never said that,” Brian declares. “Nor have I hinted at it. If you recall, you had me nearly naked just a couple weeks ago and you had to beat me off with a stick.”
She snorts. “Stop exaggerating.”
“I’m not,” he plays along, sensing teasing will work right now. “You can make me a mess in less than five seconds, whenever you want.”
She goes silent.
He waits for her to speak, knowing she’s wrestling with some very difficult issues.
“I want to tell you about my fears,” she finally says.
“Great, because I want to hear them.”
“I’m worried about getting too attached to you. To Liam and even to Helen. Agnes. All of you.”
“Why? None of us are going to hurt you.”
“Yes, you will. You won’t mean to, but you will. When I go, it will hurt very much.”
“So, don’t go.”
“You say that like it’s so simple.” She pulls her hand out of his lap and rests it in her own.
“It is simple. I want you to stay, my family wants you to stay, my favorite neighbor wants you to stay, and last but not least you want to stay. I know you do. So why not stay?”
“Because he’s here!” she says, anguish making her voice ragged. “He’s right here!”
Brian takes both her hands and drags them over to his lap. “But he doesn’t have to be. You can report what he did to the police and they’ll arrest him.”
“No, they won’t. They never do.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I left him once. I went to a shelter. He came and found me and they did nothing.”
“Did they arrest him?”
“Yes. For a day. Then they let him out and he came back for me.”
“That doesn’t make sense. The cops don’t just blow that stuff off anymore.”
She
yanks her hands away. “Oh, so I must just be imagining all of it.”
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that something happened in the middle of it to mess it up. Does he have friends on the force or something? He’s not a cop is he?”
“No, he doesn’t and he’s not. He’s in construction. He’s just … charming I guess.”
“Well he can’t charm himself out of it this time. If you report him, you have the hospital records and doctors’ reports. I’ll testify how I found you on the floor. We can make him go away, I know we can. And I’ll move. I’m happy to move to keep you safe.”
She looks at him. “You’d do that? Leave your pretty house and everything? Agnes, even?”
“Sure.” He reaches up and strokes her cheek. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”
“Because I’m a hideous monster who can hardly stand on her own two feet.”
“That’s not what I see. I see an incredibly strong woman who survived a concentration camp of torture to come out with her smile still intact and her will to live stronger than ever. You’re a loving person and a great friend. I also would love to get in your pants, but that’s not really relevant right now.”
She laughs and cries at the same time, so he abandons trying to hold her hands and holds her upper body instead. “Come on, babe, don’t cry.”
“It’s just not real,” she sobs. “It’s just not real.”
“Of course it’s real. See?” He pinches her gently on the ribs.
“Stop.”
He pokes her in the ribs a little, trying to make her laugh. “See? All real. Me and you, sitting on this bed, me trying to pretend like I’m not trying to touch your boobs when I tickle you.”
She pushes him away and backs up, staring at his face. “You’re about to break my heart, you know that?”
All the teasing leaves his expression. “Why would you say that? I’m just trying to make you happy.”
“But you’re making me fall … for you. Fall for you. I can’t do that, Brian.”
“Why not? I’m falling for you. Seems only fair.”
Her face crumples and she drops back onto the bed, curling up on her side.
Brian pushes her over gently with his body and curls up next to her, spooning her as he wraps his arms around her. “Shhhh, please don’t cry.”
“Please stop saying you like me, then,” she whispers.
“I can’t,” he says, his heart aching right along with hers. “I can’t stop how I feel about you. I keep hoping if I’m honest with you, you’ll stay.”
“I can’t,” she whispers. “I just can’t.”
Brian doesn’t respond. He just holds her close and waits for the tears to stop.
Chapter Forty
AN HOUR LATER AFTER SHE’S completely cried herself out and her tears are dried, Nicole emerges from the bedroom. Brian left for the family room thirty minutes before, telling her to shout out if she wanted him. The murmur of the television and people chatting gives her a sense of happy security as she walks down the hallway. When Helen sees her, she gets on her feet.
“I’m going to get going.” Helen reaches behind her and takes her purse off the back of a nearby chair.
Nicole walks over to stand in front of Helen. “Please don’t go. I want to apologize.”
Helen turns back around, putting the bag over her shoulder. “No need. I know I pushed too hard. I’ll step back and give you some space.”
Nicole puts her hand on Helen’s arm. “No, you didn’t. I just took things the wrong way, and I shouldn’t have. I’m too sensitive sometimes.”
Helen’s expression softens. “That’s understandable.”
Nicole smiles tentatively. “If you’re still willing, I’d love a makeover.”
“It’s not a makeover.”
“I know. But whatever it is, I’m ready for it.”
Helen’s eyes light up. “Okay, then. I’ve still got some time on my hands. Let’s get this party started. Follow me.” She leaves Nicole standing in the living room.
“Am I going to regret this?” she asks Brian.
He grins. “No comment. See you in an hour.”
“An hour?” Nicole turns around slowly and walks down the hallway, following Helen’s disappearing form into the bathroom. She’s wondering if she’s made a bad decision, but nothing will make her blow Helen off a second time. She’s just trying to help, and Nicole knows she needs all the help she can get.
“Sit on the toilet,” Helen orders, taking items out of her purse and lining them up on the counter. She kicks the door closed.
“What’s all that?” Nicole asks, not recognizing the various tubes and compacts she sees there.
“Some foundation, concealer, blah, blah, blah. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. I used to be in drama club in high school and college. I could turn you into a troll if I wanted to.”
Nicole snorts. “All you need is some mascara and the work’s already done.”
Helen bends over and puts her hand under Nicole’s chin. Staring her right in the eye, she says, “Stop saying mean things about yourself, right now. I’m not kidding. You’re not a troll, you’re not ugly, and you didn’t deserve this life.” She stands straight again as Nicole’s eyes fill with tears. “And don’t cry or you’ll mess up my work.”
Nicole takes some toilet paper from the roll. “That’s easy for you to say. I cry at the drop of a hat.”
“I think you cry less than you did two weeks ago.”
“You think so?” Nicole dabs at the corners of her eyes, letting the paper wick the moisture away.
“I know so. Brian says so too. You’re getting stronger. Maybe soon you’ll get strong enough to put that piece of shit in jail.”
“Maybe.” For the first time Nicole begins to think it’s a consideration. Maybe.
“I’m a lawyer as I’m sure Brian’s told you, and I know some pretty damn good criminal attorneys who’ve got connections with the DA’s office. This won’t be ignored if you decide to press charges. Or when you decide to press charges.” Helen gives her a stern look.
“I’ll bet you’re a great lawyer,” Nicole says, picturing witnesses crumbling under this woman’s intense gaze. She can be really intimidating when she wants to be.
Helen sighs as she puts a blob of flesh-colored foundation on a sponge and begins to wipe it over Nicole’s face. “I am. But … yeah. Whatever.”
“Why whatever? Don’t you like it?”
“Yes and no. I like knowing the law and of course I like the money … but I guess I’m not that thrilled with the area of law I practice in.”
“Oh. So you’d have to go back to school to change?”
“No. I’d just have to walk away from the income, basically.”
“And you can’t, huh?”
“Yes, actually I could. I don’t go nuts with the shopping. I own my townhouse. I have savings. It’s just …” She shrugs.
“Is it because you think you can’t do it?” Nicole can’t picture Helen not being able to do anything. Brian’s ex is one of the most capable women she’s ever met.
“Maybe I’m afraid I’m not cut out for it.”
“Cut out for what?”
“For taking care of people who need help.”
Nicole looks up at Helen as she’s using a brush on her cheeks. “I think you’re really good at it.”
Helen smiles absently. “I’ll tell you what … I sure can do make up.”
“Am I gorgeous yet?” Nicole asks it as a joke, but Helen doesn’t laugh.
“I will make you look a little different than you do normally, so that someone glancing over might not recognize you. But what I wish I could do is convince you to get plastic surgery so we can fix the underlying structure of your face. Put it back to the way it was before you met that fuckwad.”
Nicole closes her eyes to help manage her emotions. “I don’t want to do that.”
The brush stops moving across her face. “Tell me why. G
ive me one good reason, and I’ll stop bugging you about it.”
“Promise?” Nicole asks, nearly breathless with the words that want to come out, the excuse she wants to share with Helen.
“I swear on my mother’s grave, may she rest in peace.”
Nicole mulls the words over in her head, trying to put them in the right order, trying to find ways to express the emotions that torture her day and night. She wants to unload this grief on someone, and no one in her life but Helen or maybe Agnes could understand. But even they probably won’t. It’s just too weird.
“Well, are you going to tell me or what?”
“Yes, I’m just trying to figure out how to say it.”
“Say it simply. Like, I don’t want to have plastic surgery because I’ve already had enough pain in my face. Or … I don’t want to do it because I’m worried I won’t wake up from the anesthesia or … whatever. Tell me.”
“It’s not that. It’s not any of that.”
Helen sighs loudly. “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“It’s because … if I look like I used to, then another man like John will come after me and I’ll have to live that life all over again.” She looks down at the floor, her heart aching with the idea that she has to be so ugly forever just to stay safe.
Helen goes still, her head cocking slightly. “You honestly believe that having a pretty face was somehow asking for a man to punch you until your bones caved in?”
Nicole feels inspired to explain herself. She’s lived it, so she knows it’s real. “Yes. It was for John, anyway. He was attracted to me by my face and then he’d get jealous of other men for looking at me because of my face and then he’d lose his temper.” She shrugs. It’s all so clear for her. One plus one plus one equals three.
Helen snorts with something like disgust in her tone. “Please. What you had is a psycho who fell for you because he sensed he could control you, and then he proceeded to do just that. It had nothing to do with your face. Domestic violence happens to women of all races, all backgrounds, and all levels of beauty. It wasn’t your face. It was his demented mind.”
Nicole looks up, the pressure in her heart easing just a little, but only because she’s finally gotten that load off her chest. She doesn’t believe she wasn’t to blame for at least some of the violence. “He used to hold up a picture of me in the mirror and make me look at the before and after.” She’s not sure why she revealed that secret, but strangely enough, it’s freeing. To have someone other than her living with that knowledge makes it a lighter burden.
