Blind Turn

by Cara Sue Achterberg

  “Thank you,” I hear her say to Dad before she shuts the door in his face.

  37

  LIZ

  After Jess is in bed, Jake turns up again.

  “You didn’t need to come back.”

  “I did.”

  “Why?” I ask, but then my tears of exhaustion come, and before I know it Jake is holding me. And then he is kissing me, and I kiss him back, our tears blending. When he leads me toward the bedroom, I stop him. Instead, we go outside and sit on the concrete pad that never became the porch we dreamed it would be. We sit side by side, and I lean my head on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “Why?”

  “Just sorry I wasn’t here for Jess, more. Sorry I wasn’t the dad or husband I should’ve been.”

  I put my hand on his knee, and he puts his hand over it. “You did the best you knew. I wasn’t such a prize.”

  “But Jess was perfect,” he says.

  I nod. “She was.”

  “She still is,” he says.

  “How do we make her see that?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. “But I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  I shake my head and look up at the stars. “I feel like we’re losing her.”

  “I’m gonna get my shit together. I broke things off with Amanda. Driving down there, all I could think was, I’m gonna do better. If she’s okay, I’m gonna do better.”

  “It was my fault. I should have been here. I should have picked her up.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was with Avery.” I fill him in on leaving Morningside and giving Avery my position. When I tell him I am working for Kevin, he frowns. “She had to get a ride home from school with Casey on Tuesday. If I’d been here…”

  “She would have just done it on a different day.”

  “But she might not have gone so far, been gone so long, been with that… that… boy. Kevin says we can push the DA to press charges if we want.”

  Jake shakes his head. “Nah, we can’t. Fish ain’t a bad guy. He’s just stupid is all.”

  “Do you think they had sex?”

  “I don’t know, but I hope Fish had more than the little bit of sense God gave him.”

  We sit in silence. His hand still on mine. Finally, he pulls it away. “So, this is serious—this thing with the lawyer?”

  “I don’t know,” I tell him, but I know it is. Kevin has kept me sane over the last thirty-six hours, especially once Jake left to get Jess. I would never have survived it without him. If I had doubts about my feelings for him, they are gone; but I know I have to be here for Jess now. Jess has to be my focus. “It doesn’t even matter. What matters now is our daughter. I will not screw up again, I promise.”

  “You didn’t screw up. Besides, I’m the last person to be telling you how to parent.” Jake stands up. “I wish things had gone differently.”

  I think he is talking about the last few days, but it almost feels like he is talking about us.

  “Me too,” I whisper. He leans down and kisses my forehead. And then he goes inside and lies down on the couch. I call Kevin and tell him Jess is home safe. He offers to come over, but I tell him Jake is here, and I am okay.

  — — —

  In the morning, Jake and I are having breakfast when Ellen Schultzman shows up.

  “I’d like to talk to Jessica,” she says.

  Jake offers her a seat and I wake Jess.

  “Like, here? In our house?” she asks.

  I pull her robe from the hook on the bathroom door and toss it to her and she follows me back to the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” says Ellen. Jess makes a beeline for the coffeepot.

  Jess looks at her father, at me, and then at Ellen. “It’s not like I need a babysitter.”

  “No, you don’t, but I’m guessing you could use a friend,” says Ellen.

  Jess puts bread in the toaster.

  “I bet you’re exhausted,” says Ellen.

  Jess sits down across from her. She sighs heavily, her every movement and feature colored by teenage annoyance.

  “I will not mince words. You have run out of time, and soon you will run out of sympathy. If you don’t make an effort, you will fail out of high school. People, teachers, administrators, feel horribly for you. They want to help, but they can’t help you if you don’t help yourself.”

  Jake and I look at each other. He tenses, but I put a hand on his arm. Maybe Jess needs some tough love at this point.

  “What if I don’t want to help myself?” Jess asks.

  “I don’t believe that. So, here is the deal. I’ve brought the classwork you have missed the last few days, you can catch up over the weekend. Starting next week, I will expect you to attend all of your classes and then stay after school for Study Buddies.”

  “I don’t need a Study Buddy.”

  “Maybe not, but I will be there and that way I will know you’re working.”

  Jess says nothing. Her toast pops, and she gets up and puts it on a plate. Ellen sits politely, waiting. Jess carries her toast to the table. She takes a bite and chews. The house is quiet. Just the sound of Jess chewing and the nervous bouncing of Jake’s knee.

  Finally, Jess speaks. “Why do you care so much?”

  Ellen cocks her head and looks at Jess, smiles. “You’re a smart young woman with a bright future. I don’t want you to give up on that future, so I am not giving up on you.” She picks up her jacket, stands up.

  “I thought you said I was running out of sympathy,” says Jess.

  “I don’t feel sorry for you. I just like you. I think you will get through this,” she says, pulling on her jacket.

  Jake gets up and walks Ellen to the door. He follows her outside. Hopefully, he is saying what I am feeling—thank you, thank you, thank you for caring this much.

  38

  JESS

  After Ms. Ellen leaves, Mom goes to work and Dad offers to stick around. “Maybe we could go look at some cars,” he suggests. I tell him I’m okay and he doesn’t need to hang around. I don’t tell him he is whacked if he thinks I am getting behind the wheel ever again.

  “Maybe I want to,” he says.

  “It’ll be boring, I have to study. Besides, Willard and Homeboy are probably starving.”

  “They’ll live.”

  “So will I. Go,” I tell him.

  He gets up to leave. “You scared the shit out of us. Don’t do that again, okay?”

  He pulls me into a hug. “I love you. I might be an idiot sometimes, but I am here for you.”

  I can’t help but smile. I do love him, but all I can say is, “Thanks.”

  After he leaves, I go for a long run. It feels good after the day in the truck. I think about how Fish isn’t the kind of guy my parents would want me to date. He’s actually a guy Sheila would term a ‘loser.’ But he listened to me. He didn’t judge me, which is amazing considering how everyone else judges him. I’m kind of worried about seeing him again. Will he think I still want to have sex? It probably doesn’t matter though, because there’s no way my dad will ever let me see Fish again.

  I run past the Mitchell’s house. It looks empty, and there is only one car in the driveway. I slow to a walk. I don’t know what I’m looking for. I don’t even know why I’m here. One shutter is broken, and there’s a path worn in the grass from the front door to the driveway, probably a shortcut made by kids who couldn’t bother with the front walk. In the side yard, a tire hangs from a branch, the ground u
nderneath it bare from years of feet skimming the grass away.

  After a few minutes, a car comes up the road, slowing as it approaches me, so I sprint off. When I get back to my house, Dylan is sitting on the stoop.

  “What are you doing out of school?”

  “I’m sick,” he deadpans.

  “Like crap you are.”

  “I saw you get home last night, and I wanted to see if you were okay.”

  “Wow, everyone’s all concerned about me today.”

  Dylan blushes.

  “Thanks,” I tell him. “Want some lunch?”

  “Sure,” he says and follows me inside. He sits at the counter while I fix sandwiches.

  “So, where did you go?” he asks.

  “I just went for a ride.”

  “Oh.”

  I guess I owe him the truth. If anyone around here might understand, it would be Dylan.

  “Actually, I was leaving. Or trying to. But my dad dragged me back.”

  “Really?”

  I nod and take a bite of my sandwich.

  “Where were you going?” Dylan asks.

  “I don’t know. I just had to get out of here.”

  “I feel like that sometimes. I only do my homework so I can get into a college that’s at least a plane ride away from here.”

  “Cool.”

  “Where do you want to go to college?” Dylan asks.

  “I don’t know if I’ll go to college.”

  “Why wouldn’t you go to college? You’re smart.”

  “Depends on whether I can afford it. And if I graduate.”

  “You’ll graduate,” Dylan assures me. “You’re smart.”

  Dylan takes off after lunch. “Gotta go play the sick kid for my mom when she gets home at two.”

  I take a shower and then pull out the work Ms. Ellen left for me. Maybe Dylan has a better plan. Maybe what I need to do is bust my butt in school so I can get into a college far, far away from here. Away from this town that hates me and away from the silent Mitchell house and its sadness. I glance at my running shoes where I kicked them off near the front door. Those shoes might be my only ticket.

  — — —

  When Mom comes home, I know she has a well-rehearsed lecture prepared. There is no point in trying to make her understand why I need to leave Jefferson. All she cares about is proving Jefferson wrong, proving I’m not guilty. But I’m not so sure. I mean, I was behind the wheel. I know what that text said. The car hit Coach Mitchell. How can I not be guilty? Besides, there is no place for me here anymore. I will always be a snag in the fabric of this town. People might be polite, but they will always know. They’ll whisper to newcomers, “That’s the girl who killed Coach Mitchell.” The accident will never be over.

  When we sit down to dinner, Mom says, “I wish I’d known how unhappy you were. I wish you’d talked to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say and hand her the salad bowl.

  She looks up. She expects a protest, an excuse, something, but she isn’t ready for my apology.

  “Well, I’m not happy about you leaving with that kid from the trailer park, either.”

  “I know. Bad choice. Sorry,” I say and concentrate on buttering my bread.

  “Are you just saying what you think I want to hear so you won’t have to hear what I have to say?”

  It’s impossible not to smile. “Sort of.”

  She glares at me, but she’s teasing.

  “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I thought it might be better if I left.”

  When I say this, she drops her fork. “Jessica, it will never be better if you leave,” she says through tears. “Ever.”

  Sometimes it’s hard for people to accept what’s best for them. It’s like when Mom had to have our cat put down. I begged her not to, but she knew the cat was dying. She didn’t want her to suffer. It was the best thing to do, only I couldn’t see that.

  39

  LIZ

  Jess seems almost angry when I tell her I am working for Kevin. I tell her it is temporary; I don’t want her to think it has anything to do with the accident, but I doubt I am fooling her.

  “I’m curious about paralegal work and Morningside allowed me to take a leave of absence. Avery is filling in for me.”

  “That makes zero sense,” she says. “You love old people.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll love this more!” I tell her in as cheery a voice as I can muster.

  “I’m not that stupid,” she says but I pretend I don’t hear her.

  The work at Kevin’s is easy—answering the phone, greeting clients, opening the mail. He gets a few calls from MADD, the group from Dallas, but he always tells me to take a message. He says there is no point in talking to them. There are letters too, some from MADD, but others from people right here in Jefferson. Letter after letter. I have opened a few since many are addressed to me or Jess, care of Kevin’s law office.

  The letters in one form or another say he shouldn’t defend Jess. That she should go to jail. That the law needs to change. They are right about the law needing to change, but they don’t know Jess. Their judgment strikes at my heart. One letter was from a mother whose child was killed while texting and driving, her pain was so palpable it clung to my hands after I had folded the letter back up. For a brief moment, I imagined if Jess had died in the accident, that she had struck a tree or another car, but the thought of it took my breath. I stopped opening the letters after that.

  — — —

  A month passes with no plea offer. Jess and I have found a truce. Jess keeps to herself, does her school work, even helps out more at home. She does not mention the trial. Her solemnness worries me.

  Jake is all he said he would be. He comes to see Jess every chance he gets. He is here most weekend nights, usually with pizza, and he and Jess watch movies. I try to give them that time and find things to do, like meeting Avery for drinks or a movie. Sometimes I go to her house and help her with Curtis and her mom. I find it oddly comforting to watch cartoons with Curtis. We sit side by side on the couch and he rocks back and forth, laughing joyously each time the roadrunner tricks the coyote. Sometimes he will turn to me and smile as if he is saying, “See?” And his smiles and laughter are genuine every time, even though it is the same set of movies over and over. Any minor change in Curtis’ routine can take weeks to make, but if you follow the prescribed order of activities, he is happy. In some ways, it seems like Curtis has it easier than the rest of us. His joy is simple and predictable. I help Avery prepare Curtis for bed. Her mother needs help too, and I do whatever I can, although many times that means simply offering company and sympathy. Each time I leave, I am astonished at the load she carries.

  Working with Kevin every day has given me a greater appreciation for him. He is respectful with everyone, the philandering husbands who claim their shrill wives drove them to it, the weepy women who sit on his couch and pour out the contents of their broken hearts, even the clients who arrive angry and blame him when he explains how the system prevents them from taking every penny from their soon-to-be ex-spouse. The dismantling of so many marriages should make him jaded and skeptical, but he is earnest in his pursuit of me. For weeks we have kept things chaste and danced around the idea of sleeping together. It is a commitment I am not ready to make or ask for.

  It would be so easy to fall into him. Let him take care of me. Take care of Jess. It is clear he wants to, and I am tempted to let him be the white knight and me the helpless princess. But I need to rescue myself. If not for me, then for Jess. I cannot give in to whatever this is that is happening with Kevin. No
t now. Jess is too important. When I try to tell him as much over yet another dinner together at a restaurant I can’t afford, he protests.

  “I care about Jess, too,” he says. “Why are you being with me and taking care of her exclusive?”

  “They’re not. I just can’t do this right now. I need to focus on her. I wish I’d met you sooner.”

  “You did,” he points out.

  He is right and I wish when I met him years ago at Morningside, I had given him the chance he deserved. I wish our relationship was not tainted by Jess’ accident. I am so grateful for all he is doing for Jess and I have to wonder—is this just the patient falling in love with the doctor?

  “I need to focus on Jess, now. I can’t get distracted by whatever this is,” I say, waving my hand back and forth between us.

  He takes my hand in his, runs his thumb across my palm, sending shivers through me. “Let’s just take it slow. I’m in no hurry. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here no matter what happens.”

  “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

  He grimaces, uncomfortable with my flattery, but he is amazing. More than I deserve.

  — — —

  Thanksgiving is a small affair; Jess and I have an early dinner with Avery and her family, then we stay for the rest of the day. Jess plays with Kimba, and I watch cartoons with Curtis while her mother naps. Avery drives down to the state prison to visit Kimba’s father.

  “Don’t even say it,” she says when she returns. I still cannot fathom her devotion to a man who does not reciprocate it, even when confined behind bars.

  Spending my days with Kevin tests my ability to keep things platonic. Most days he buys lunch and brings it back to the office to eat with me. I pack my lunch, still counting all my pennies. We talk about a lot of things, but the tension between us is distracting. My body operates on a different level around him—it is as if there is a magnetic pull that I spend my days resisting. He is kind and funny and so very smart. He diligently builds his case for Jess, and in so doing is stealing my heart.