Chapter 38 – December 13, 1988: Part III

Tom’s in the lobby when I return, and I nearly run to him. "Thanks for coming." I hug him, something I’ve never done before.

He hugs me tightly. "Let's take you home."

We walk in silence, and I throw my backpack into the backseat before buckling my seat belt. We ride in silence for several minutes.

"Colin gave me directions,” Tom says. “Want to try to sleep?"

"I'll never be able to sleep again."

"Colin filled me in a little."

"That I'm living on borrowed time?"

"That you defended yourself."

I rub my forehead. "Just a random Tuesday night,” I say flatly. “Not quite twenty-two years old with a sixteen-month-old baby. Sitting like I belong there."

He glances at me. "What?"

"You just assume you’ll live forever… I lived so long wondering if I would make it to the end of the week. Then I met Colin and, well, you, and things kind of fell into place. And I bought into immortality. See Alex grow up and do something amazing. Grow old with Colin."

I sigh and close my eyes. "Just a random Tuesday night." I snap my fingers.

"Ra'Shelle, you're going to need some therapy."

I scoff. "Yeah, that'll make everything better."

"Whatever happened back there… it wasn't your fault."

"Well, I mean, cause and effect tells us otherwise, but I take your point… And in his mind, I’m partly responsible for his misery. It’s too bad that that’s how he sees me now."

There’s an angry edge to Tom’s voice. "He's a psychopath, Ra'Shelle."

I shrug. "I don't think so. He's just a very damaged kid who became a dangerous adult." I lean back. "When Debbie was still alive–when his mother was still alive–he was a totally different kid. Happy, playful, considerate, even sweet. In all of our horrible adult moments, from him attempting to strangle me, to me shocking him in the ribs, I've always still seen that kid. There were flickers of him. He'd be angry, even vicious, but then I would see the kid I knew. It was still there, just buried under the garbage his dad inflicted."

I rub my face. "Tonight… it was just gone. It was just hateful, dangerous adult Pete. I wonder what happened… Something must have triggered that thought process."

"You feel bad for the guy who almost killed you?"

I look at Tom. "You're the empath."

"Yeah, but for people who deserve it. You deserve it right now. Not him."

"Both people can deserve compassion."

"How are you so… calm about this?"

I exhale loudly. "Like Colin said, I don't have a normal reaction to danger."

"Why is that?"

I clear my throat. "I was at everyone else's mercy for sixteen years. Then something just… I told myself that I wouldn't be that person anymore. I bought mace and stun guns and learned some martial arts."

I hesitate. "I spent my childhood with my soul on her knees. I have no intention of kowtowing ever again." I glance at him, then at the road. "They'll just have to kill me."

"And that's why you're calm?" he asks steadily.

I shrug. "It won't last."

"So, this is shock?"

"This is what I had to be to deal with all of that. They made me take a drug test and explain my relationship with Pete beginning in childhood. No room for emotion."

Tom side-eyes me and speaks softly. "But now you're in the car with me. You don't have to be that person with me."

I’m silent for a long time as I stare out the window. "Do I have a job at LFI after May? After I finish my internship?"

"Of course. You can be a full-time employee the day after graduation."

"Doing what?"

"I assume working in Creative Design."

"As?"

"I'll have to talk to Marjorie. Probably Talent Associate." He glances at me. "That's what you want, right?"

"It was eight hours ago."

"And now?"

I tap my fingers against my cargo pants. "Do you trust Jonas?" I half-smile. "We should be doing this over chess."

"We should do everything over chess,” Tom says. “Do I trust Jonas Kravson? The Deputy Director of the Creative Design Department?"

"Yeah. Marjorie's right-hand man, so to speak. Do you trust him?"

"Sure."

"Enough to make him Sam's second?"

"You're thinking he would run Chicago?"

"No, I'm thinking Sam would run Chicago and let Jonas take some of her duties in Minneapolis. You're opening Chicago next year, right?"

“Yes.”

"And Marjorie has no interest in moving, right?"

"Right."

I finally look at him. "So… Do you trust Jonas enough to send him to Minneapolis?"

He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "Who takes Jonas' place?"

I turn away and look straight ahead. "I do."

He glances at me again, but I stare at the road. "You want to be Deputy Director of LFI's Creative Design Department?"

"When I graduate, I'll have two years of experience, Marjorie and I work well together, and I know how to do most of Jonas's job already."

"It's more bureaucratic than artistic," he reminds me.

"I could still submit sketches."

"You'd rather file paperwork than draw?"

"Jonas does more than that,” I say. “He supervises. He thinks ahead. He mentors. He hands me the phone when the vendor is in Italy."

Tom chortles. "Really?"

I wave my hand. "Don't tell him I told you that. His Italian is pretty good, but he's better at speaking than listening… I know it's a bit of leapfrogging."

He snickers. "From intern to deputy director? Yeah, a bit."

"You think I need to start as a Talent Associate."

He takes a deep breath. "You wouldn't rather have a job that allows you to be artistic?"

I hesitate as we brake at a stoplight. "I'd rather have a job that's meaningful."

He looks at me, now giving his full attention. "Meaningful?"

I hold his gaze. Then I snap my fingers.

He studies my face–calm and steady. But he’s good at reading me, and I know he sees what’s underneath.

I can feel it.

It’s a depth of sadness I’ve never felt before, different from when Mama died or when I read Lassio’s letter. It’s a chasm of sudden wisdom beyond my years fused with an inexplicable emptiness.

I feel it.

He sees it.

The light turns green, and he focuses on the road. "This isn't a good night to make decisions." He drums the steering wheel with his fingers again. "But if Jonas wants to move, I'll consider it."

I simper. "You'll give me a chance to convince you?"

He chortles. "Yes."

"Thank you." I point at the ivory house nearly surrounded by trees. "There it is."

Tom slowly pulls into the driveway, his headlights reflecting off of the windows. He shuts off the engine. "Do you need anything?" He sighs. "I guess I should have asked that before we left the city."

"No." I unbuckle my seat belt and turn to grab my backpack. "I have everything I need."

We both step out of the car, and I watch Colin walk onto the porch. Feeling the knot in my throat, I shake my head and hold up a finger. He stops, his face twisted in concern.

I walk over to Tom. "Thank you for taking care of me tonight. Thank Kari for me too."

"You're very welcome." He gently touches my shoulder, and there’s a protective respect I’ll never be able to describe. "Call if you need anything."

"We'll be fine."

He waves at Colin as he steps back into the car and shuts the door.

I nod at Colin, and he springs off the porch. I walk a few feet, then wait.

Tom starts the car but doesn’t drive, likely captivated by our ritual.

Colin stops a foot before reaching me. He looks into my eyes before placing his flat palms in the space between us, and he says those three words I haven’t heard in a very long time: “Whenever you’re ready.”

I tentatively touch my fingertips to Colin's before removing them. He stands steady and silent. Again, I place my fingers on his, and again I take them away. I step back, but Colin simply watches me. I shake my hands, walk back to him, and hold his stare as I place my fingers on his palm.

My knees buckle, and Colin catches me with one arm around my waist. I find my balance and lean against him, my shoulders shaking.

Tom backs out of the driveway. If he looks in the rear view mirror, he sees us kneeling in the grass, holding each other, our heads leaning against one another's shoulders.

***

Colin lifts his head. "Can you walk?"

I nod and sniffle. "Where's Alex?"

"In her crib in Dad's room."

I stand up. "How is he?"

"Very relieved that we're all okay."

My tears erupt again. "Oh my God, Colin, if something had happened to Alex! Or to you!"

He grips my shoulders. "Nothing did. We're both fine." He helps me into the house and guides me to our bedroom.

I drop my backpack on the floor before collapsing in tears. He helps me stand, and I fall onto the mattress.

"It's my worst fear, Colin. I mean–" I shudder. "She was in the next room, and the gunshot… and she started crying, screaming."

I know he can hardly understand me; I’m barely coherent. "She cried and screamed; I couldn't comfort her. I'm her–her–her–mother, and I did nothing!"

His voice is equally calm and firm. "You didn't do nothing, Ra'Shelle. You protected her. I've never felt prouder of you. I've never loved you or had more faith in you as a mother than I did tonight."

He brushes away his own tears and tries to steady his voice. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't there. I'll never forgive myself."

My voice is nearly a scream. "He would have just killed you! If you hadn't studied at the library tonight–oh, my God!" My sobs give way to hyperventilation.

"Ra'Shelle, take a deep breath. C'mon, babe." He sniffles. "Take a breath."

I inhale deeply, feeling my muscles spasm. "I can't believe that I forced you two into that situation. He… he wouldn't even–something having to do with his mother. He thought I–God, how can he think that I would–."

"He's demented, Ra'Shelle."

I bite my lip. "He's determined, Colin. If he’s released on bail, if they drop the charges, if he's not convicted, if he's paroled… You and Alex will never be safe."

He wraps his arms around me. "Let's not worry about that tonight. Let's just… let's just be glad that we're here. Together. Now."

I squeeze him. "I'm so sorry, Colin."

His voice is loud, in a way that tries to keep it from cracking. "You have nothing to apologize for. You did everything right."

He blinks quickly. "You're my hero, Ra’Shelle. I love you so much."

"I love you too." I kiss him carelessly.

He presses his hand against the small of my back and kisses me with urgency.

His tears are wet against my face. "Colin, I made you cry."

"I'm just so glad that you're okay and–" he swallows, "you didn't make me cry, Ra'Shelle. Almost losing you did."

I kiss him again. "You have me. You'll always have me."