Never Let You Go(18)

Mom slid a plate of cookies toward me.

“I’m not hungry, thanks.”

“You okay?”

His drinking is out of control, Mom. He gets so angry when he’s drunk. I think he might really hurt me. You don’t know what he’s like. I can’t breathe. He’s so jealous. He spies on me and goes through my things. He wants another child but I’m taking birth control. I keep it hidden in my tampon box. I want to leave him but I’m terrified he’ll take Sophie away from me somehow. I don’t have anything of my own. What should I do? How can I get out of this? I don’t have a credit card or bank account. Everything is in his name. I’m trapped.

I imagined how shocked and confused and upset my mom would be. How much my having hidden the truth for so long would hurt her. How worried she’d be about Sophie and me.

“I ate before I came over.” I took another sip of my tea. I wanted to stay in this moment a little longer. “Is Dad’s shoulder getting any better?”

She shook her head. “He tried the exercises the doctor prescribed, but they haven’t helped. Surgery would be the next step, but it’s risky. Thank God Andrew gave him that job.”

“Does he still like working for him?”

She tilted her head. “Of course. Why?”

I swallowed a couple of times, trying to dislodge the tight, desperate feeling in my throat that was always there lately. “I just wonder sometimes if it might be strange for him, working for his son-in-law. If he wanted to do something else, it would be okay with me.”

“Your dad knows that.” She rested her hand on mine. She was looking straight into my eyes with a concerned expression. This was my chance.

“You and Dad are so important to me, and—”

My mom’s eyes widened. “Oh! I want to show you the catalogue Andrew dropped off.”

“Catalogue?”

“He’s sending your father and me on a cruise—for an anniversary present, but he’s calling it a bonus, you know, for tax reasons. He hasn’t told you? I hope it wasn’t a surprise. Maybe he’s taking you too!” She got up, talking excitedly about where they would go. “You’ll have to help me pick out some cruise wear. You know, we’ve never been on a real holiday before.”

She sat back down with the catalogue, pushed it toward me, but I couldn’t make my arms move, could only stare at the shiny cover with the smiling couple.

“Lindsey?”

“Sorry. I was thinking about something.” I straightened my chair, pulled it closer.

She was still looking at me. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, just a little tired. I probably need a vitamin B shot.”

“That’s a good idea. Having a toddler is exhausting.” She flipped the catalogue opened to a marked page. “What do you think about this one?”



I sat in the car and stared back at my parents’ house, the flower boxes, the wooden swing where my dad and mom would sit in the evenings while my brother and I ran around in the front yard, where my mom would snuggle with me while she pushed gently against the porch railing with her foot until I fell asleep against her warm body. My mom was going to wonder why I hadn’t driven away, but I needed a moment to think, to brace myself before I went home. The seat belt was too tight around my waist. I tried to tug it looser, but the locking mechanism wouldn’t let me. I pulled and yanked while tears rolled down my face. Finally I gave up and slapped my hands down hard on my steering wheel. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

There was noise beside me, a bird chirping in one of the apple trees. I rolled down my window, inhaled the crisp fall air. The days would get colder soon, Andrew would come home earlier, and maybe his work would slow down. Maybe he wouldn’t need to drink so much and things would get better. He loved Christmas. I clung to that thought, remembered how he always got up at the crack of dawn like a little kid and made waffles for us, how he couldn’t wait for Sophie to open her presents. Last year he’d built her a dollhouse, even all the little furniture inside, and given me a maple jewelry box he made in my dad’s workshop. He told me that those hours spent with my dad were some of the best times he’d had in his life.

I looked back up at the house, thought about my parents relaxing on a cruise, everything taken care of, and how much fun they’d have. They needed this. They’d done everything for me, sacrificed so much. I had to stay with Andrew. Leaving wasn’t an option. Not right now.

I put the car in gear and drove home. I’d make soup and roast beef sandwiches. He liked those.





CHAPTER EIGHT


SOPHIE

DECEMBER 2016

May 19, 2016

To Andrew Nash,

C/O Rockland Prison



Hi, my name is Sophie and you’re my father, but you probably already figured that out. Right now you’re probably wondering why I’m writing you, so I’ll get to the point. My English teacher gave us an assignment and we’re supposed to contact someone who had the biggest impact on our lives and tell them what they meant to us, or how they changed us. I think it’s supposed to be someone we admire, or like our hero, and I guess you used to be that for me when I was kid, but I chose you for this project because you changed a lot of people’s lives. Not just mine. And hey, maybe I can get an “A” for having a dad in prison. Okay, stupid joke.