Home From Within (23 page)

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Authors: Lisa Maggiore,Jennifer McCartney

BOOK: Home From Within
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A blur of tears clouded Jessica’s vision. There was no way out of the nightmare; she and Paul would be punished.

Her mother’s hard shell started to break away. Jessica had never seen her mother crack, let alone watch her emotions spill onto her face and clothing. It was obvious her mother was not accustomed to this either as she struggled to grab tissues and place them on the appropriate watering holes.

“Hello?” her father’s voice rang out from downstairs, making Jessica and her mother jump.

Her mother blew her nose, looked in the bathroom mirror to wipe away the tears, and straightened her clothing out.

Despite anger still oozing from her pores, her voice was level again.

“Go to your room and stay there until I come to get you,” she said and hesitated before opening the bathroom door. “And do not go anywhere with your father, understand?”

Jessica nodded, feeling grateful at her mother’s attempts to save her life.

Jessica’s body was shaking so hard she barely made it back to her bedroom. She huddled on the floor next to the bench feeling self-conscious as she lightly touched her abdomen.
Pregnant? How stupid could I be?
Thinking she and Paul being together would never be discovered, and having sex that now produced a baby growing inside of her. Jessica was not ready to be a mother. And Paul? He wanted to be a better man but would he be able to handle the pressure of being a father at sixteen? Would she have to move into Paul’s house? Jessica did not see herself surviving in his home, but there was no question, he could not live here. That is, if her father allowed Paul to continue living at all.

The daylight from outside started to dim as wind began picking up speed, preparing for a storm. Jessica pulled herself up and sat on the bench, praying to God to make things better, praying for a miracle. Her hair flapped as the breeze whistled through her window screen. The smell of a storm brewing made her feel desperate and the desire to have Paul’s arms around her became so strong she thought about climbing down from her window and running to his home.

As her quivering fingers touched the metal tabs holding the screen in place, her mother whisked through the doorframe. Jessica studied her face, looking for a clue to her fate; there was nothing but a blank stare. Her mother placed a suitcase on Jessica’s bed and made her way to the closet and dresser, filling the suitcase with clothing items that did not match.

“What’s happening?” Jessica asked quietly.

Her mother did not respond.

Jessica sat in silence for a minute before she heard loud pounding and crashing sounds coming from downstairs. Jessica’s insides panicked. What if her father was preparing to torture Paul in the basement?

“Mom, what’s happening?” she asked in a firmer voice.

Her mother did not stop her task. “You are leaving here . . . for a long time. And your father is trying to control his . . . disappointment in you.”

Jessica’s eyes widened, and a flash of lightning streaked across the sky just as thunder rolled over the house. The rain began tumbling on top of the roof, making angry drumming sounds.

“Where . . . where am I going?” Jessica asked with what little breath she could muster.

Her mother was silent for a minute. “You will know soon enough.”

“But . . .” Jessica was afraid to say Paul’s name out loud, but this was his child too. “What about the father of this baby?”

Her mother stopped her work and looked at Jessica. “It’s out of my hands, and now in your father’s.”

“He will kill him,” she whimpered.

Her mother’s flat face boiled over. “You should have thought of that before you made the choice to have sex.” She returned to her methodical packing of Jessica’s things.

Frozen in pain and grief, Jessica slid off the bench and curled on the floor. The window remained open as rain threw itself on top of her. Jessica folded her arms around her stomach and rocked to soothe the pain. How could she ever survive without Paul? How could she live with his death on her head?

As she rocked faster, flashes of running out of her home at full speed to Paul’s came into focus. But the more she studied it as a viable option, the more it seemed insane. She could never outrun her father. Mrs. Daley’s voice came to her saying, “call me in a home emergency.” But Jessica could not bring herself to find and search the backpack that held her savior’s phone number.

Her mother finally noticed the open window with rain pouring all over Jessica. She walked over and shut it, placing her hand underneath Jessica’s armpit and lifting her off the ground.

“Go in the bathroom and put this on. We’re leaving when you’re done.”

A dazed Jessica walked to the bathroom with sweatpants and T-shirt in hand. Her mother followed behind to monitor her every move.

Wearing the clothes her mother gave her, Jessica was led downstairs and pushed against the wall at the foot of the stairs, so her mother could grab her keys and purse.

“Katherine,” her father said from the darkness of the kitchen. Jessica turned her head to look at her father through a spiderweb of hair, but could only make out an overpowering dark silhouette.

“Address.”

Jessica’s eyes focused on her mother, who clumsily searched her purse, eventually digging out a piece of crumpled paper.

“6142 W. Rolling.”

That was Paul’s address.

Jessica’s body started shaking even more, and she was screaming inside her head,
No!
But the word with sound would not come out. Her heartbeat was so strong that she could hear it in her ears and it muffled all noises around her. Jessica was maneuvered through the front door and pushed into the backseat of the car, with suitcase in trunk, and driven away in the darkness. As they crossed over the overpass, Jessica dragged her head up and looked at Paul’s home. A small patch of soft light flowed out of the living room window and onto the overgrown bushes below. Jessica turned her whole body around to watch the light out the back window despite the pellets of rain making it hard to see clearly. The light eventually faded. She felt numb as her mother proceeded to drive north on the expressway, not caring what happened to herself anymore.

 

 

Jessica woke up from the worst nightmare she had ever had. Or at least thought she had. Her mind was trying to trick her, but the harsh reality of sleeping in the backseat of a moving car in the dark of night was no illusion. She pushed herself up from the leather seat that her face had rested on and looked out the window, remembering exactly where she had been, now knowing exactly where she was going.

As her mother made a left turn onto a grassy driveway, bright lights could be seen ahead. There, standing wrapped in a blanket on the front porch was Aunt Lodi.

All the pain, all the fear, and all the hurt came rushing back into Jessica’s consciousness upon seeing Aunt Lodi’s face. Before her mother could shift into park, Jessica flew out of the backseat and into Aunt Lodi’s open arms.

“He killed him. He killed him,” Jessica shrieked. “Paul’s dead. My love is dead!”

 

C
hapter
19


1999

 

 

Prince songs flooded through the speakers of Jessica’s truck as she sped down a deserted two-lane highway. The early morning air sent shivers down her arms so she turned on the heat, hoping that it would also warm her broken heart. Before leaving home, Jessica found the
Purple Rain
CD she purchased at a flea market years ago but never had the courage to listen to—until now.

Jessica had agreed to help her friend and coworker, Jean, move her son back home after his first year at college. Jean’s husband, Ray, had an accident at the paper mill and had limited mobility in his arm. The women would make the three-hour drive to Minnesota, pack up the truck, and then return to the UP.

The sun began to peek along the horizon of Lake Michigan which the two-lane highway hugged before it veered away from the water and took a path that had farms and eventually homes that generously dotted the main road into town. It was fifteen miles to Jean’s home and plenty of time for unbridled memories. Some songs Jessica skipped; others she played over and over, not sure what to do with the rawness in her chest, hoping that the songs would heal parts of her that after seventeen years continued to ache.

Five minutes before arriving at Jean’s, Jessica slipped the CD from the player and into the glove box so she could regain her composure. Jean worried about her enough; Jessica did not want the careful stare or rub on the back.

Jean was in the garage searching through a workbench as Jessica pulled up, rolling down her window and breathing in the smells of oil and dust. “Hey,” she said, trying to sound chipper.

“Well, hello.” Jean stepped around the workbench toward Jessica’s truck. “I have coffee for us and sandwiches.”

“Awesome. Are they from Harold’s?”

“Of course,” Jean said as she placed her hand on the opening of the truck window. “I can’t thank you enough for this. I could never do this alone.”

“Please, Jean. You’ve been there plenty of times for me, so this feels a little like payback.”

“Call it what you will. Tonight, dinner is on me. Of course, I hope we’ll be up for dinner. Jake’s dorm room is on the third floor—thank goodness you have youth on your side.”

 

 

After locating bungee cords and rope, they cruised onto the highway at five o’clock. Jessica was thankful Jean’s communication skills were up to par early in the morning. This way she would not have to fake happiness.

After one quick bathroom stop, they arrived at Jake’s door a few hours later.

Jean stood in the middle of his dorm room, which was only half-packed. “For goodness’ sake, Jacob.”

“I know, I know,” Jake said as he shoved clothes, shoes, and miscellaneous items into a large black garbage bag.

“Looks like you had some fun last night, Jake,” Jessica said, looking at crushed beer cans in the corner.

“For goodness’ sake,” Jean said again.

Jessica grinned and started picking up the party remnants while Jean wandered around the room shaking her head and pointing to items Jacob forgot to pack.

 

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