A Little Broken (18 page)

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Authors: Juli Valenti

BOOK: A Little Broken
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“Jessie? Please! If you’re there answer the door…or your phone! I’m worried about you. I haven’t heard from you since you left so god-awful early this morning. I even tried to follow you on foot, but you moved too fast, disappearing into the night. I have been walking the streets trying to find you since then. Please, just let me know you’re okay. I love you, damn it! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I’ve told you that; I’m just trying to help you, help us. Please, please…call me. Call Toni…someone…I have to know you’re okay.” Her neighbor was beating on her wall during his tirade, and a moment later she heard him softly speaking to the old woman, apologizing for being so loud. She smiled at his consoling tone, but it fell when his words filtered back around in her head.

His voice was pained, scared, and panicked. It hurt her heart to hear him, and it took every ounce of willpower she had to not open the door and jump into his arms. His words to her stopped her. He was going to leave her if she didn’t see a shrink. A
shrink
for god’s sake! She wasn’t some crazy loon… They were just dreams. Sure, she had a few…quirks. If she was honest with herself, she was pretty afraid that everything and everyone would die on her in their sleep – it was something she couldn’t stop, something she couldn’t control, and had become her greatest fear. Unfortunately, Dominick was on the receiving end of it; it didn’t affect anyone else. She had no pets because she couldn’t stand the thought of losing them either.

Ugh, maybe I
do
need help
, she thought wryly. Sighing, she sat up and let her eyes search the room. She knew she should probably just go back to sleep, having to work the early shift in the morning, but she wasn’t tired anymore. She decided she should probably call her boss, maybe reschedule her shift – or ask him to not tell his nephew when she worked. She hated to bring him into this mess, and she didn’t know how she was ever going to explain it to him without discussing her private life, but she didn’t want to see Dominick yet. She knew she was avoiding him, not hiding from him, avoiding him.
Okay, Jessie, cut the crap – you’re hiding from him and you know it,
she chastised herself.

Deciding to clean, something she had learned kept her from thinking, she stood and grabbed her bag, plucking her now dead, brand-new smart cell phone from her purse. It was definitely smarter than she knew phones could be and she was glad that Dominick had given her a tutorial of the basics. Plugging it into the wall, she ignored the icons informing her of numerous text messages and voicemails, instead pushing the little ‘P’ icon to get some music playing. The Internet radio searched for the station they’d made the previous day, and began playing, the music romantic.

“Um, no,” she said to the little machine in her hands. “This isn’t going to help much…”

Backing out, she created a new station, using a song suggestion to create a cleaning mix that she could deal with. It was sad, mirrored after the new Linkin Park’s “Castle of Glass,” and it suited the mood she was in. Losing herself in the soulful voice that poured surprisingly loudly from the small phone, she set it on the counter and got to work.

Jessie took a moment to realize that she didn’t have much to clean, but, determined, pulled a rag out of the cabinet and made some soapy water. Not having any dishes in the sink or dishwasher, no real food to clean out of the refrigerator, and no trash to take out, her options were limited. Instead, she sat on the tiled floor of the kitchen and scrubbed, putting her frustration into her frantic cleaning of the floor. Sure, a mop would have been easier but since she didn’t own one, this would work just as well. Once the small area of tile was shining, she moved to the bathroom, repeating the same process before moving to the shower and sink.

Looking up to where the mirror was, covered in a sheet to block her reflection, she tugged on the fabric, revealing a forlorn face peering back at her. She knew that the girl was her; her hair was a ragged mess around her head, the makeup she’d experimented with smeared down her face, making her look stained and saddened. She disliked what she saw there – the destroyed girl she used to be. Blinking, she used her hands to splash some clean water on her face, though it did little to remove the black smudges tarnishing her face. Her eyes peered intently back at her, and the gaze with herself was hard to hold.

You did this to yourself
, a voice said from inside of her head.

“What?! No, I didn’t,” she said, angry with herself. It took her a moment to realize she was talking to herself.

The same voice from inside her sighed loudly, exasperated.
You left him, not the other way around. You know you need some help… You can’t even lock eyes with yourself for any length of time. Who do you want to be, Jessie Barbara Braden? Do you want to be hollow for the rest of your life? Your son wouldn’t have wanted this, and you know it. You’re getting a second chance and you’re stupid for turning your back on it.

Jessie opened her mouth to fight with the inner voice. Since when did her inner voice sound like her mother? She hadn’t spoken with her mom in months…and she missed her. It was moments like these that she needed her, and it was her own fault she didn’t have her to turn to. Raising her head to glance at herself in the mirror once more, she nodded and turned toward her cell phone. It was long overdue to make this phone call, but she had to do it. She needed her mom. Breath held, she dialed the one number forever burned into her memory.

“Hello?” The sound of her mom’s voice on the other end, though distant, almost brought her to her knees. She tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. She was scared…scared to apologize, afraid to let go of the bit of aloneness in her.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Her mom’s voice filled the silence once more.

“Mom?” she asked quietly, her voice timid.

“Jessie?”

“Yeah, Mom, hi. It’s me. I…I just needed to hear your voice. I’m sorry to call so late, I’m sure you and Dad are probably getting ready for bed and don’t have time to talk to me…” she trailed off, waiting yet hoping for her mom to tell her it was untrue.

“I always have time for you. It’s been a long time, daughter. What’s up?”

“Well, I moved…um, you probably already know that… Anyway, I’m doing good, I guess.”

“That’s good…” her mom said, her tone suggesting she was waiting patiently for what her daughter had to say.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for just up and leaving. I’m sorry for leaving you with the mess I couldn’t handle. When Ryan got arrested, and the threats…well, paired with losing…yeah. It was too much, I couldn’t deal with it all,” Jessie spoke fast, hurrying to get everything out before her mom could condemn her. “I’m so sorry I failed the baby, and in turn, you. I’m sorry I didn’t know about Ryan – you know me, I would have thrown him to the wolves if I had – I truly didn’t know. I loved my son, and I thought I loved Ryan, though I know now I didn’t, not the way you love Dad. I’m sorry I’ve failed so horribly as a daughter. I’m not proud of my decision to leave the way I did, and I know I hurt you…and Dad… and I’m so, so sorry.” Tears fell from her eyes and she swiped at them before continuing. “Every time you or Dad called, I was just waiting for you to tell me you hated me too…that you blamed me for everything. I already blame myself, and I know that if I heard you say the same thing, that I would die. I love you, and I need you, and I’m so sorry it’s taken this long to make this call to you.”

Silence met her from the other side of the phone, and Jessie held her breath, trying hard to not hyperventilate. It was coming, she knew, and she deserved it. How could her mom still love her after she’d failed the people she loved so badly? She couldn’t stand herself, how did she expect them to be able to either?

“Jessie,” her mom said, sniffling in her ear, the sound awkwardly muffled. “You’re my daughter, my only daughter. I love you; always have, and always will, regardless of the decisions you make.”

Her mother’s words were sincere, and squeezed at her heart. She didn’t deserve her mom’s love, no more than she deserved Dominick. Whatever pretty picture she painted of life, and the future, there was still the possibility she could have kept things from happening - if she’d only known.

“I don’t blame you for the loss of your son.”

The statement rang loud in her ears, punching her in the gut and causing her to double over, falling apart in sobs. The phone fell from her ear as she dropped her face into her hands, tears pouring down her face and dripping onto the now spotless tile floor.

“Jessie? Jessie!” she heard distantly from the discarded phone. Hiccupping, she raised it back to her ear and sniffed loudly. “Oh, baby girl, stop crying. How could you think I’d blame you? The thought never crossed my mind; besides your dad and I were at Ryan’s trial. We heard so much more than even you know. The medical examiner explained in great detail what happened to Little Mister – it was SIDS, darling, and despite your ex’s heinous mistakes, there was nothing you could do. On the same note, you need to know that Ryan hadn’t actually meant to hurt him… He was just young, and inexperienced and overwhelmed. It in no way excuses what he did, but it explains it some. You need to forgive yourself for not knowing, not being able to prevent what happened; you’re the only one who can. Dad and I…” she paused, swallowing loudly. “We knew where you were, we had to know you were okay. We let you have your space; our therapist told us that it was the best thing we could do for you – time, and space. You have to learn to live with the memories that haunt you, and unfortunately, we can’t help you get rid of them. But know this daughter, a day hasn’t gone by that we haven’t thought of you, loved you, and missed you.”

“I miss you, Mommy,” she said, adopting the nickname she’d always used for her. “I…I’m trying to forgive myself, but it’s not easy. I met someone who’s helped, but things aren’t going well right now – I feel lost, right back to where I was when I first got here, and it hurts. I don’t want to be ruined, Mommy,” her voice cracked on the last, pleading for an answer that she doubted her mother had.

“Well, baby girl, there’s an easier solution to that than you may think. First, be honest with yourself – you need help. I know that Dominick has tried to help you understand that –”

“How do you know his name?” Jessie cut her off, astonished and confused.

“Jessie, your man is worried about you – he called me this morning to see if I’d happened to hear from you. His call was quite a surprise to us, and we had a lovely conversation, he’s a good man.” Her mother’s tone had softened when talking about him, and she warmed, knowing it as a sign that she liked him. “Now, don’t interrupt me. He’s helped you, but he knows he’s not trained to do so, you need a professional. There’s no blame in that, my daughter – like I said, Dad and I found one, and she’s helped us in ways you wouldn’t imagine. Find one. I’ll help you pay for it, if you don’t have the money.”

“What’s the second solution?”

“Hm, I guess I forgot – no big deal, the first is the most important anyway. Seconds are for those who couldn’t make do with the first, and you’ve always been a winner – you’ll find your way. I have faith in you, baby. Now, get off this phone with me and call that boy,” she said sternly, motherly.

“I’m not ready, Mom. I’m not ready to call him, just yet.”

The sigh on the other end of the phone was loud, and she could tell her mom disagreed with her readiness, but she didn’t argue with her. “If you say so. I’m going to save your number into my phone. Text me when you need to.”

Jessie nodded and realized her mom couldn’t see it. “I’m nodding, sorry.”

“Oh, and Jessie?”

“Yeah, Mom?”

“Stop apologizing to everyone, myself included. I’m so proud you, daughter. I love you.” With that, the line at her ear went dead, and Jessie stared at it, tears still trailing down her face.

Her mom was proud of her? Even though she’d failed them? Her son? Hearing those four words were some of the hardest she’d ever heard, the hardest to fathom. She’d called her mom hoping for redemption, and got more than she ever hoped for.

She’s right
, she thought to herself.
They’re both right, I do need help
. Unsure where to start, she brought the browser up on her phone and tapped the keyboard buttons, searching for counselors. A list of them came up, and she scrolled through them, trying to find a face that screamed “I can help you.” On the third page, she found a woman named Mary, who specialized in grief counseling. Shaking, she decided to dial the number, knowing that at the late hour no one would be in the office to answer the phone.

Her thoughts were quickly squashed when a kind voice came on the line. “Mary Dane’s Counseling, Mary speaking.”

“Um…hi. My name is Jessie, and I…I think I need help,” she stuttered nervously.

“Hello, Jessie. Are you having suicidal thoughts? I have to ask, before we can go any further.” The kindness never wavered in her voice, making it easier for Jessie to answer her.

“No. No, I’m not. You see, I lost…I lost a baby a few months ago…and I still have these dreams, and…” she trailed off, not ready to talk about it over the phone with this stranger.

“I understand. My condolences on your loss,” the woman on the other end harrumphed before continuing. “I know that doesn’t come close to soothing how badly it hurts, and it’s completely the wrong thing to say, but it’s the expected thing. I can’t very well tell you that it’s horrible that you lost such a little life, and that it just isn’t fair – that wouldn’t be professional in the least, would it?”

Jessie relaxed, already liking Mary. It was nice for someone to just get it.

“No, it probably wouldn’t be…though you’re right,” she swallowed, gathering her courage. “I think I’d like to make an appointment, if that would be alright.”

“Sure, let me grab my book – and we’ll see if we can squeeze you in, sooner rather than later.”

Jessie booked an appointment for two days from then, the earliest appointment Mary had. After a few minor questions, everything was taken care of and they said goodbye. She’d been given an assignment to bring with her to the meeting – a letter to either herself, or to her child. She didn’t know if she’d actually write it or not, if she could or not, but Jessie found herself anticipating the appointment.
Maybe this won’t be so bad,
she thought, reflecting on their conversation. Mary hadn’t told her she was crazy for having dreams; in fact, she’d sounded very understanding, and understanding was what she needed.

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