by Lisa Heaton
“What can we do?” Tommy was not exactly the confrontational type, but he would do whatever he could to help protect Robin.
“I will kill him.” Without question, Emma would kill to protect Robin. Having known this day would come, she was prepared to do whatever it took to keep him from harming her ever again.
“Emma, you can’t…” Even while she protested, Becky could see Emma’s resolve by the expression on her face.
“Oh, yes I can.”
“Look, we’ll just watch out for him.” Tommy was not exactly sure what they would do if he showed up, but killing the man was not the answer.
“I have to talk to Robin.”
By the time Emma reached the bottom of the stairway, only Chris was left standing on the dock. “Where is Robin?” She called out.
“She was heading in to shower before dinner…” Chris trailed off, as he watched Emma immediately spin around and make her way toward the cabins.
Leaving the bathroom, Robin found Emma sitting on her bed. Clearly, by the look on her face and her lack of color, she was upset. “What’s wrong?”
“I want you to move back up to the main house.” Looking down at her hands, she noticed how badly they were trembling.
“Why?” Even prior to asking, she knew it was about Mike.
“He’s up for parole this week.”
Understanding the implication of his release, Robin would never put Emma in harm’s way. “Maybe I should leave.”
Unable to contain herself any longer, Emma burst into tears. “Please don’t leave. I hate to imagine life here without you. You’re all I have.”
Wrapping her arms tightly around her friend, Robin consoled her. “I’ll stay. I just don’t want to cause any problems for you here. But I honestly don’t know what he may do.”
Taking Robin’s face in her hands, Emma sternly said, “This is your home. I will not allow him to drive you away.”
It was just after seven when Chris spotted Robin standing alone on the dock. With her back to him, he could see she had her arms wrapped around herself, as if to ward off the chilly evening breeze. Her hair whipped and flew in the wind, and her shoulders were downcast.
For just a moment, he hesitated. Should he invade her solitude? He seemed to do that a lot. Considering all the old memories she was dredging up, having to process so much, he knew that time alone with God was where her real healing would begin. Not with him. Hanging his head, he wondered what he was thinking. How had he allowed himself to feel this way for the troubled woman standing out there on that pier? As if life away from this place had no sting of reality, he had allowed himself to become consumed by her and her story. When had it actually happened? He thought back to the night he saw her run toward the dock and dive in. No doubt, it began then and grew artfully, disguised in his simple determination to be her friend. Undeniably though, he had come to the place where he wanted much more than to be her friend. But what could he offer her? Certainly not a future.
Feeling the dock sway slightly, she knew someone had joined her. Even without turning, she knew it would be Chris. He had a way of being near when she needed him most.
He stood quietly beside her, hands dug deep into his pockets. She smiled, acknowledging his presence, but remained quiet. That was unlike her. “Tell me what is going on in your head. I want to help.” When she leaned her head against his shoulder, it felt unusually intimate. He slipped his arm around her, resting his hand on her shoulder.
“It looks like my past is about to catch up with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mike.” For the moment, she could say nothing more than his name. The fear of him was so overwhelming she could barely breathe, let alone speak.
“You think he is coming here?”
She nodded. She knew he would come for her. Not once had she ever doubted it.
“Emma was looking for you earlier. I could tell she was upset.”
“He’s still in prison, but she found out he’s up for parole this week.”
Startled by her revelation, he asked, “Prison?” In all the weeks they had spoken, she had never mentioned he was incarcerated. He had assumed she left him. So far, she had talked about many things, but never the last night. She was petrified of it, and this latest bit of information shed even more light as to why.
“The last time…” Nervously, she raised her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. With her eyes cast down at her feet, she continued, “The last time, he went to prison for what he did to me.”
Turning her to face him, he moved his hand up, lightly touching her cheek with his fingertips. “I can’t imagine how anyone could hurt you that way.” When she looked up him, with those large brown eyes, defenseless and afraid, his stomach sank. She was alarmed, and after what he had heard so far, she had reason to be.
“Do you really think he will come here?”
She turned to face the water. “I am sure of it.”
Mike sat stiffly in the small wooden chair. Facing the parole board for the first time, he was unsure of what to expect. When they met a day early, due to weekend travel plans of one of the members, he was anxious about the outcome. Though he had spent only five years of his seven-year sentence, his attorney was confident the parole hearing would go well. With his prior history with the Sheriff’s department and good behavior during his five-year incarceration, it looked as if he would walk out a free man that day.
“Mr. McGarrett, we have reviewed your file and with no prior history of criminal behavior...” Robert Henry removed his glasses, smiling. “Actually, your record with the Sheriff’s Department was impeccable, and you have served as a trustee for the past two years without incident. Mr. McGarrett, we are granting your request for parole.”
From that point forward, he never heard another word. After five solid years of staring at gray walls, he would finally be free. Night after night, he had lain awake, wondering where she was and what she was doing. Already, his only thought was of finding her. Soon after he arrived at the prison, his mother had written, telling him Robin left town. His suspicion was that she went to New Hampshire to be with Emma. After so many years, would she still be there?
In his cell, gathering his few personal items, he pulled the worn photo of her from the wall. Peeling off the wad of tape from the back of the picture, he looked at her sweet face. How had things gotten so out of control? From the time he was thirteen until that very moment, he loved her more than life itself. Caught in a spiral of anger and confusion, then alcohol and abuse, he demolished their lives entirely. Nothing could have convinced him early on that their marriage would end in such a way, or end at all for that matter. Unmistakably, she was right; he became his father after all. All those years he was so confident that he was a better man than his dad, but he learned a humbling lesson: he was no better at all.
His brother Trevor picked him up and took him home. He had been to see him every month since the very beginning, the only one to visit him besides clergy. Even when he told Trevor he did not have to make the drive so often, he did anyway. Their history had created a bond few other brothers might maintain throughout adulthood. No doubt, they would always remain close. Grateful for the five years of rent-free living, Trevor was more than willing to help him get a new start. Though by no means well off, he offered what he had to his older brother, knowing it would not be easy to find a job and rebuild his life.
Mike appreciated the way Trevor maintained his home while he was away and how he took care of their mother in his absence. Fortunately, he stepped in and took care of many things that needed to be done. Mike would always be grateful for that and offered for Trevor to stay on as long as he needed to.
Once home, reality settled heavily upon Mike. Years passed and life went on for everyone else, but for him, time stood still. There was always some unrealistic expectation of what he would feel and experience. The hope of going home, though, proved to be a cruel deception. While it promised to be a better place than
he had known in five years, it was instead, extraordinarily lonesome. Unprepared for the onslaught of emotions he would feel in Robin’s absence, soon after arriving home, he quickly had to get out of the house.
Standing at the bottom of the steps leading to his mother’s house, Mike recalled how growing up, all he had ever wanted was out. Now, he was back, tail between his legs. When he married and left home, he remembered thinking with a sense of confidence, or more correctly arrogance, he would never live as she did. Her poor decisions and inconsistency had driven him crazy all his life. Yet there he stood, newly released from prison, with the hope she would at least be glad to see him.
“I thought you got out tomorrow.” Kathy McGarrett was standing inside, arms crossed, looking at her son through the screen door.
No matter the difficulty of their relationship, he had missed her and was glad to see her. Finding that she looked exactly as she had the last time he saw her, he acknowledged what a pretty woman she was still. Young to have a son thirty years old, she had barely turned seventeen when she gave birth to him. Her hair was the same dyed-blond shade she had worn for years. Now though, her roots were revealing her natural color of darker brown, his color. Her blue eyes were lighter than his, and for the first time, he noticed how much her age was showing around them.
“They moved the hearing up to today. Trevor came to pick me up.” He tentatively made his way up the stairs. “I just wanted to stop by and say hi and say thanks for all the cards and letters.” Though she had not visited him once, she was faithful about staying in touch.
“I figured you would make it by.” As much as she wanted to throw her arms around him and welcome him home, all she could see was Walt standing there. Mike looked exactly like his father, where Trevor looked like no one really. Pushing the screen door open for him, she patted his arm as he passed by. Something about him looked different. He seemed unusually humble. He should be.
“I have some dinner on the stove. Are you hungry?”
He sat quietly at the table waiting for his mother to join him. Appreciating the food she prepared, he realized just how much he missed sitting at a real table with real food and family. Though he had not lived at home in many years, and no matter how glad he had been to be away from her, she was still his mother, his family. After he married Robin, she was all the family he thought he needed. How time changed things.
“You going by the feed store? I talked to your uncle, and he said he’d put you to work.” Noticing how his hands trembled as he ate, she recounted the countless nights she spent, lying in bed, wondering if he was getting enough to eat. He had always been a big eater. At six feet, five inches and nearly as broad as he was tall, the boy could put away some food.
“I’ll call him first of next week.”
“What about tomorrow?”
He looked down at his plate. “I have something to do first.”
She dropped her fork. The sound of it startled them both. “I know you don’t think you’re gonna go find Robin.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
Standing abruptly, she left the room.
Alone on the porch, she thought back to that terrible night five years before. Once Mike and Robin had been taken to the hospital, she was left to clean up the mess, she and Trevor. The house was covered in blood, and it was hard telling whose blood was whose. From the side porch through the kitchen and into their bedroom, there were splatters and puddles. Even after all that time, the mere thought of it nauseated her. She had never seen anything like it and hoped she never would again.
“It’s not what you think, Mama.” He stood inside, looking at her through the screen door.
“Don’t ya think you’ve done enough?” She turned and glared at him. “She should have killed you. Then at least she wouldn’t have to worry about you comin’ after her.”
“I would never do anything to hurt her. Not again.”
Storming toward him, she shook her finger. “That’s what you said the day you married her, remember?” Hanging her head, she began to cry. “You promised me you’d never do what your daddy did.”
He looked away, unable to watch her cry. “I don’t know how it all started.”
“It’s the drinkin’. I told you never to start that.”
“I know, Mama.”
“She never came back, and I don’t blame her.” Though she only heard from her once after she left, she would always love Robin. She was a sweet girl, one of the few people to ever treat her with any kindness.
“I didn’t figure she would come back, especially after her parents moved away. If I had to guess, I would say she’s up at the lake with Emma.”
Kathy guessed the same, that was where her only letter was posted from, but that had been years before. “I think ya ought to leave well enough alone.”
“I need to see her.” His palms grew sweaty just thinking about such a thing. It was what he thought of most over the past five years. With no hope of ever having her back in his life, he at least wanted to tell her how desperately sorry he was for the way he treated her. All he wanted was to see her one more time and to beg her for forgiveness.
“Why?”
Shaking his head, he muttered, “I need to ask her to forgive me.”
Kathy nearly laughed at such a ridiculous statement. After the mess he made of both of their lives, she would be surprised if Robin, even as kindhearted as she was, would be able to forgive him. Though she appreciated his need for forgiveness to get on with his own life, she was concerned that seeking her out would only serve to upset Robin’s. As for any real possibility of getting on with his life, she wondered what the future could possibly hold for him. Everyone in town knew he had served time in prison. Other than working for his uncle, what was there for him?
“I think you better think twice about going to see her. Are you even allowed to leave town?”
“No, but it doesn’t matter. I plan to go and come right back. If I get caught, it will be worth seeing her.”
As Mike pulled onto the highway, just beginning his sixteen-hour journey north, he smiled as he opened the cooler full of food sitting next to him. Though she did not agree with his decision to go, the instincts of a mother trumped her disapproval. Having filled a cooler with leftovers, she brought it by the house later that evening and wished him well. He never questioned her love for him, but he also knew how hard it was for her to show it, so the gesture meant a lot to him.
Having no money of his own, he had to borrow gas money from Trevor. But at least having plenty of food, he would not have to stop often or spend much. With no real plan, he drove toward New Hampshire, at times hopeful, at times hopeless, wondering if she would even talk to him. If she refused to, he could hardly blame her.
Reaching the mid-point of his journey, he stopped again for gas before going to a rest station to eat. Sitting on his tailgate, eating cold chicken, he went over and over what he might say to her. Somehow, nothing he came up with could possibly undo the damage he had done. During that last year, he was so out of control, he remembered very little of the things he said and did to her. It became a common occurrence to wake up, after tying one on, to see bruises on her face and arms and things broken around the house. No matter how many times he swore it would never happen again, it did.
Having had the past five years to think it over, he agreed with his mother, Robin should have just killed him. At least then, he would not be making this foolish drive, knowing he could never get her back. He certainly did not deserve her. The only thing that mattered was that he see her and tell her how sorry he was. He found Jesus on the way to the hospital that night, or more correctly, Jesus finally took hold of him.
On many occasions, he tried to piece together the fuzzy details of that last night. He had been dwelling on it for years. He drew a total blank before the moment he laid there on the kitchen floor, with her holding his head in her lap. And then he remembered the ambulance ride. No other pieces ever came together.
S
everal days later he was conscious again after a string of surgeries. The police, even the North Carolina Bureau of Investigations were there questioning him. It all became muddied in his memories. What he did remember most vividly were the photos of Robin that the district attorney showed him. Her image was burned into his memory for life. Her face was nearly twice its normal size, her nose was broken, and both eyes were swelled shut; it was enough to make him sick at his stomach. He learned that several ribs were fractured and her shoulder was dislocated. That was the point at which he agreed to plead guilty. Requesting she not be subjected to all a trial would involve, he made an agreement with the DA at his bedside and never even appeared in a courtroom. He was moved directly from the hospital to a prison infirmary. It was what he deserved.
8
Working behind the counter in the lobby, Robin clearly heard a frighteningly familiar sound. It was a distinct grinding, squeaking, and a hard slam. Instantly, she was taken back to her former life. Her stomach sank and bile rose up into her throat, and for a moment she was frozen there, looking toward the front door, waiting to see his face. When his large frame filled the doorway, she felt her knees buckle out from beneath her. Grabbing for the counter, trying to support herself, she staggered sideways toward the back door. She watched in horror as he pulled the screen door open and stepped inside.
Longing to escape, she realized she had no control over her legs. In her head were echoes of her brain shouting, “Run!” but there was also his words warning her it would be worse if she did. Finally, realizing there were other people around, different from being at his mercy that final night, her legs carried her clumsily toward the door, where she might find help. As she pushed through the door, she heard him call after her, but her own screams drowned out his words. Haunted for years by this possibility, she had repeatedly planned her escape. Hour after hour, she pushed herself to swim farther and faster. Now the time was here, and if only she could reach the water, she could get away from him.
