by M. Sembera
It wasn't pity that I felt as I listened to what her mother did to her. I was angry. So angry, I started to feel a little light headed. I wanted to find her mother and beat her to death with my bare hands.
Sitting up tall, Charlotte opened her eyes and finished her story, saying, "Three weeks later, a nosy girl who sat behind me in class told the teacher I was bleeding. When I went to the nurse's office, she called the police because I wouldn't let her pull up my shirt. And I may have shoved her a little."
Seeing the smirk on her face, I asked, "They took you to the hospital?"
Nodding, Charlotte replied, "I don't remember a lot from the hospital. As soon as they examined me, I was rushed into surgery. I remember a doctor saying how bad the infection was and how I was lucky. I didn't feel lucky. After that, I was sedated most of the time. A Social worker came and said they arrested my mom because she was high or whatever when officers went to my house to question her and there were drugs in the house." She paused a moment before continuing to say, "They sent me to the juvenile detention center because I wouldn't say what happened. The hospital said I was hostile and under the circumstances I was a detriment to myself."
"What?" I asked, trying to wrap my mind around why someone would send her to a detention center because she was hurt.
Shrugging, she answered, "It wasn't bad. I was in the infirmary the whole time I was there. Until, I was sent to the foundation because they didn't know what else to do with me."
As much for myself as for her, I asked, "Do you feel better now that you said it all out loud?"
"I think about it all the time. I don't want to think about it anymore," she replied.
Nodding, I could see a peace in her eyes that wasn't there before.
Charlotte making a crucial step in her progress caused me to have a great deal of respect for her. She was very brave to have not only shared with me but to have survived what her mother had done to her. It amazed me that, all things considered, she had coped fairly well all on her own.
I took a deep breath before making my way over to her. Sitting next to her on her bed, I placed my arm around her shoulders.
"You know we're not done, right?" I informed.
A genuine smile formed on her face as she replied, "Promise."
Giving her a little squeeze, I confirmed, "I promise."
"So, your turn," she quickly blurted.
Rolling my eyes, I laughed as I scooted back, placed my hands on lap and asked, "Okay, you want funny, sad, crazy or stupid?"
Cocking her head to the side, Charlotte narrowed her eyes and questioned, "I want to know why you never left here."
Without putting any thought into it, I answered, "I had more reasons to stay than to leave."
"If you didn't would you have left?" she asked.
Sensing she was up to something, I asked, "Is this really about me?"
With a sigh and an eye roll, Charlotte stood up and walked over to her dresser.
Leaning against her dresser, she turned and faced me.
There was apprehension in her voice as she stated, "I don't want to be here."
"In this house?" I asked.
Shrugging, Charlotte replied, "I hate this stupid town. I hate the people that know about me and even those who don't."
My heart went out to her as I consoled, "It gets better with time."
With an irritated sigh, she gripped, "I don't want better. I want new and different."
"And where would you go?" I questioned.
With a light sigh, Charlotte tilted her head back and replied, "As far away as possible."
~
Emerson took all the kids with the exception of Charlotte to the center for sports night. While she stayed upstairs reading, Amila and I sat on the couch in the downstairs living room talking.
"She still has attitude from time to time but I think that may be normal, she is seventeen," Amila laughed.
Nodding, I smiled, agreeing, "Yea, probably."
Amila softened her expression as she shared, "Ren, I can never thank you enough..." I shook my head and interrupted her, "Y'all were right. It's been good for me too."
Seemingly out of the blue, she asked, "So good, you and Jackson might get back together?"
All the good feelings concerning Charlotte revealing a part of her life to me and my opening my heart to her dissolved as I stared at Amila.
An uncomfortable look spread across Amila's face. I could tell she sensed the change in my mood.
"I'm sorry Ren, I just thought," she said trailing off as she glanced to the side.
Forcing a reassuring smile, I replied, "There were so many what if's with Jackson throughout my life I guess at least now I know I was right, it wouldn't have worked out with us. I knew it when I was seventeen. I guess I assumed because we were older or I don't know... We're just too different."
"Because he wants to be happy and you don't?" she blurted.
Trying not to be irritated with her, I scowled replying, "I like being happy."
Shaking her head, Amila disagreed with me, saying, "You're satisfied with being content and that's not the same as happy."
Giving her a dirty look, I snapped, "So what is it you think I'm supposed to do?"
"You're supposed to do something for yourself every now and then," she snapped back at me.
Giving her a strange look, I stated, "I have always done things for myself."
With a frustrated groan she fussed, "No you haven't. You say you do but that's not what you're doing. Everything you have ever done has always been for someone else." Pausing for a moment, she informed, "You changed your life for Sophia. You didn't give Hert the office because of any other reason aside from that's what he wanted. Even the things you did for Emerson and I, you move mountains for people you care about so why won't you fight for what you really want?"
Feeling like a scolded child, I shrugged and looked down at my hands.
I looked over at Amila when I felt her hand on my shoulder.
"Ren, why do you think you need to be something that you're not when Jackson has always loved you for exactly who you are."
Shaking my head at her, I replied, "He wants our marriage to be a certain way and I just can't."
"You can't what?" she asked.
With a heavy sigh I shared, "He wants us to have our own house and share everything and I..." before she cut me off, questioning, "And he's going to divorce you if you don't do exactly what he wants?"
Rolling my eyes at her, I replied, "No, but I know that he wants a relationship like the one his parents have and our relationship will never be like theirs."
"Well duh," she blurted before saying, "Don't you think what he wants the most is to be with you?"
"He doesn't understand me," I assured.
Giving me a stern expression, Amila shared, "After almost twenty years with Emerson, I still don't understand him."
"That's different. Things are more complicated than..." I started before she stopped me, saying, "Okay."
"You have a list, miles long, of reasons for y'all not to be together. So why did you say yes in the first place?"
Swallowing my pride and allowing Amila to be right, I mumbled, "Because I love him and want to be with him."
A smirk appeared on her face as she stated, "So go after what you want."
Taking a moment to glance around the room, I said, "I really miss him but I don't know how to explain it right. I am so happy around him, I get all nervous and panicky. Its like I'm unsure of myself and I'm afraid of hurting him."
Leaning her back against the couch, she offered, "Are you sure or you're afraid he is going to hurt you."
"That's the thing, he did hurt me. But it feels wrong not being with him. I don't understand it. Its always felt right. Since the day I met him. It can't be though."
"Why not?"
Shrugging a little, I replied, "Because he doesn't know everything and if he did, he might not feel the same."
Amila smiled and reassured
, "You never know until you try."
With a heavy sigh, I nodded.
~
Driving to the Rec Center, I wondered 'what am I thinking'. Two days ago, I stood in his office and told him we weren't right for each other and now I'm on my way to take it back. This is crazy. He's going to think I'm crazy. I am crazy.
Jackson's car was the only one left in the parking lot when I pulled into the Rec Center. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself out of my car and into the building. It didn't take long to find him. I could hear a basketball bouncing against the hardwood floor of the gym.
Stepping into the gym, I stood to the side of the door, watching him. Shooting free throws from the line, he missed every shot. Memories of watching both him and Emerson play on Friday night at the school, made me question if I had done this to him. I watched him try once more. When it bounced off the rim and back at him, he grabbed the basketball with one hand and launched it into the bleachers.
The sound made me jump a little and then I froze when Jackson turned and caught me standing there watching him. He scowled at me before walking to the bleachers to retrieve the ball.
Making his way towards me, with the basketball under his arm, Jackson stopped about three feet away from me.
All the things I planned to say ran through my mind but all that came out of my mouth was, "Hey."
"I have a temp coming Monday. I would appreciate it if you came and cleaned out your desk," he stated.
My heart sank as I said, "Okay, I'll be sure to come by tomorrow."
"Is there something you wanna say?" he asked with a serious expression on his face.
I started to open my mouth and stopped before shaking my head at him.
Jackson nodded at me before turning away and walking back to the free throw line. I stood there for a moment waiting for him to turn back around. When he didn't, I left.
28
Ultimate Heartache
Two weeks after I promised I would clear out my desk at JPT, I still hadn't done it. I couldn't bring myself to go there. I had dinner twice with Sophia and Ailin and visited Charlotte every other day but saw no other reason to leave the house.
I was exhausted all day every day and decided it was due to heartache. Missing Jackson and reliving the way he looked and sounded when he told me to clear out my desk, took a lot on energy. At least that's what I thought.
Climbing out of bed around one in the afternoon, the moment I stood up I had to sit back down. The room started to spin and I felt dizzy. Taking a few deep breaths, I waited for the feeling to pass. When it didn't and a sharp pain in my stomach accompanied the dizziness, I started to panic.
My hand was shaking as I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed my cellphone. My hands were shaking so bad, I could barely hold the phone let alone dial.
I pressed the center button and said, "Call Mrs. Thomas."
When I heard her cheery, "Hello," I stressed, "Come down here."
"Ren, what's wrong?" she questioned.
Doubled over in pain, I shouted, "I don't know! Please, I can't move."
Letting my phone fall to the floor when I heard the call disconnect, I curled up in a ball on my bed.
I wasn't crying but the pain was so bad I could feel tears running down my cheeks when Mrs. Thomas entered my bedroom.
Placing her hand on my forehead, she blurted, "Oh my gosh honey, you are burning up."
Feeling her pull my arm down, I jerked it away from her and resumed my fetal position.
In a tone that only mothers possess she fussed, "Get up right now, we are going to the emergency room!"
I'm not sure how exactly, but the next thing I knew, I was on my feet hanging onto Mrs. Thomas as she helped me out of my house and to her car.
It only took about fifteen minutes to reach the hospital but the pain was getting worse and I couldn't think straight. She pulled up to the Emergency room doors and stopped her car. Nurses made their way to us and opened the passenger side door. Pulling me out of the car, I could barely hear them asking Mrs. Thomas what was wrong over the all-consuming pain. When I was out of the car and in a wheelchair, I glanced back and saw blood in the seat of Mrs. Thomas' car. I tried to say something but with the next sharp pain, everything went dark.
~
Sitting on the hospital bed, tears rolled down my cheeks as Mrs. Thomas held my hand. I was sad and for what? Something I didn't know about.
"I'm so sorry honey," she consoled.
Sniffling, I shared, "I don't understand. How can I be this upset over losing something I didn't even know I had?"
Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head at me, saying, "Because..."
Mrs. Thomas trailed off as my door opened and Jackson walked in carrying a bouquet of flowers.
I couldn't look at him. Wide eyed, I silently pleaded to Mrs. Thomas to make him go away. Leaning down she kissed the side of my head before leaving my bedside. She was going to leave me there with Jackson. Gathering the hospital sheet into my hands, I stared down at the bed I was laying on.
Goosebumps covered my arms and legs when I heard her tell Jackson, "You need to stay with her."
The door to my room closed and I could hear Jackson making his way to my bedside.
The crinkling sound of plastic around the flowers Jackson brought broke the silence as he laid them on the tray by the bed.
"Are you okay?" he quietly asked.
Without looking at him I shook my head.
"What happened?" he asked.
Snapping my head up to look at him, I couldn't believe whoever told him I was in the hospital didn't have the decency to say why.
"How did you know I was here?" I questioned.
"My dad called me at work and said my mom took you to the emergency room," he replied before sharing, "He said he didn't know what happened."
Nodding, I started to shake.
Suddenly, I was freezing. Hugging my arms tight against my chest, I was on the verge of my teeth starting to chatter.
"Are you cold?" he asked, walking to a large cabinet in the room.
Without waiting for an answer, Jackson pulled a white hospital blanket out of the cabinet before walking back to the bed.
Carefully unfolding it over me, he asked, "Better?"
I was still covered in goosebumps but I nodded anyway.
"Jacks," I whispered before scooting over a little and patting the spot next to me.
As he slowly sat down, he asked, "Is it serious?"
Fresh tears pooled in my eyes as I replied, "I had a miscarriage."
Jackson's expression fell as the color seemed to drain from his face.
"You were pregnant?" he softly questioned.
Wiping my eyes, I whispered, "A little over a month."
Scowling, Jackson cleared his throat and asked, "When did you find out?"
Tears streamed down my face as I answered, "Today."
"Come here," he mumbled, pulling me into his arms.
Resting the side of my head against his chest, I cried.
~
Walking into my house, I sat down on my couch and watched Jackson step in and close my front door.
Turning to me, he asked, "Do you need anything?"
Shaking my head, I replied, "I just want to take a shower and go to bed."
"I'll wait here until after you shower then I'll run to the pharmacy and fill your prescriptions," he informed.
Frowning at him, I said, "I was going to ask your mom if she could."
Jackson appeared frustrated, saying, "This isn't just about you this time. I can't go back to work and act like nothing happened. I have to do something."
My eyes filled with tears as I said, "Okay, do whatever you want."
"Does it bother you that much for me to help you?" he griped, stepping right in front of me.
The tears that were building rolled down my cheeks as I looked up at him and shared, "I...I don't want you to leave."
Jackson's eyes searched mine for a moment befo
re he sighed, informing, "I'll call my mom."
Reaching up, I held onto Jackson as I stood. It took a moment to balance myself before I walked to the bathroom.
After my shower, I climbed in bed. I wasn't in any physical pain at the moment but the memory of it was so fresh in my mind, I curled up in a ball holding myself.
Jackson's hand brushed the side of my face as he sat down on the side of my bed and asked, "Is there anything you need me to do?"
Nodding, I softly demanded, "Get in bed with me."
I felt him get up. He took off his button up and shoes before stretching out next to me in his undershirt and slacks. Rolling over, I curled up next to him.
Wrapping his arms around me, Jackson held me tight. At the moment nothing else mattered. Only Jackson, myself and the loss of something we were unaware we had attained.
~
The bed seemed cold when I woke up. Reaching my arm out, I found myself alone. I started to get up until I noticed my bedroom door was open and I could hear Jackson talking.
"...she came to see me and all I said to her was for her to clean out her desk."
Mrs. Thomas' tone was compassionate as she offered, "Jacks, this isn't either one of y'alls fault."
Knowing I felt responsible for our shared misfortune too, no matter what Dr. Brin said, I continued to listen.
"Mom, I've never seen her like this," he shared before saying, "She's...needy."
The word cut me deep. Throughout my life, I had been a lot of things but never, needy.
"So give her what she needs," Mrs. Thomas stated in a harsh tone.
Jackson's voice was shaky as he replied, "I don't know what that is. I never have."
Tears filled my eyes as I realized how hard this must be for him. Not only was a hope he had for us, for himself, yanked away before he knew it, he had to deal with me in the process.
Mrs. Thomas informed, "It's the same thing she's always needed. There is no fixing this."
"What if..." Jackson started to question.
The frustration in her voice was clear as Mrs. Thomas told him, "It took you damn near twenty years to propose. You can't blame that on her. She's not the only reason it isn't working between y'all. You are the one that waited until you thought everything would be perfect. I don't know where you got the idea that being in a relationship is all sunshine and roses because it's not. And you know what, if you can't be the man she needs then you're right. The only thing she has ever asked was for you to be there for her. Right now is the perfect opportunity to show her that you are exactly what she needs."
