Off the Deep End (12)
“Answer to what?” I asked Isaac after we’d listened to her latest message, where she’d derailed into full-on sobbing at the end.
He shrugged and shook his head like he felt sorry for her. “I don’t know. I don’t understand half of what she’s talking about, Mom. I just pretend like I do.”
I turned off my phone and made him turn off his phone, too, thinking that would put a stop to things, but then she showed up at our house even more worked up than she’d been on the phone. I told Isaac she’d go away if we just ignored her, but she was relentless.
“Isaac! Isaac, are you in there?” She pounded on the door with both fists. The sound reverberated throughout the house. “Please just open the door. We need to talk. It will only take a minute. Just a minute, I swear. I have to see you.”
Mark was away at a conference in Boulder and wouldn’t be back for another three days, so he was missing all the drama. Isaac and Katie weren’t, though. They sat at the top of the stairs listening and watching it all go down. The security cameras on the front porch had her meltdown on full display.
She’d looked much worse before, especially in the days following Gabe’s death, but I was more frightened of her that day than I’d ever been. Before, she’d looked pathetic and pitiful like the only person she was capable of hurting was herself, but she’d put herself back together again after the last hospitalization and was staying in some kind of group home across town. She looked like the president of the PTA, and something about that was scarier. She was so desperate.
I couldn’t let her inside. I was afraid of what she’d do.
Finally, after she’d been going on and on for over ten minutes, I stood on the other side of the door and tried to coax her to leave. “Jules, honey.” I used the same voice I used when I needed to bribe my kids to do something. “Please, just go. I know this is hard. I know you’re going through an unbelievably difficult time, but your relationship with my son is not okay. It’s totally inappropriate. Now please just go away.”
“You don’t understand. You don’t understand, Amber. It’s not like that,” she cried, pressing her face against the door. “You have to let me see him. You have to let me talk to him. Just for a second. It doesn’t even have to be that long. I have to know if he’s okay.”
Anger surged through my veins at the idea that there was something wrong with him that only she could take care of. “He’s perfectly okay where he’s at. He’s with his mother.”
She kicked the bottom of the door, startling me and making me jump back. “Please, Amber. Just let me inside. Let me talk to him. Don’t be this way. Why are you doing this to me?” She pressed her face against the door again and let out the most pitiful cry. “I have to know how he’s doing. I just want to know he’s okay. I have to see him. That’s all. After that I’ll go. I promise.”
I turned around to see how it was affecting Katie and Isaac. Katie’s face was a mixture of fear and fascination. She’d never seen someone so beaten down and broken. Isaac looked stricken, like he was doing everything he could not to burst into tears. He rose slowly from his position on the landing at the top of the stairs and started making his way down to where I stood in the entryway. I motioned for him to stop.
“I should just talk to her. She’ll be fine if I talk to her,” he whispered. There was so much pity and compassion for her laced in his eyes that I melted on the spot at what a sweet boy he was despite everything he’d been through.
I shook my head at him while Jules kept begging from behind the door.
“Please, please.” She sobbed even harder, tugging at my heartstrings and having a powerful effect on Isaac. “All I want is to see his face. That’s all. Then I’ll go. I promise. Please.”
Isaac’s body crumpled, and he clutched his stomach like it hurt. He stepped forward, almost within her sight, and I pushed him back so she wouldn’t see him.
“I’m sorry, you have to go, Jules. Please just go,” I pleaded. He wasn’t strong enough to resist her on his own. I couldn’t blame him. She was so desperate and sad.
“You have to let me see him!” she screamed, and suddenly, her fist jutted through the window on the door. The glass shattered. For a second, nobody moved. The flesh of her forearm opened, spilling beads of blood on the floor, and I leapt into motion.
“Don’t move!” I yelled, but it was too late. She was already pushing her arm farther through the hole, trying to reach the handle.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, being careful not to catch any part of her skin on the jagged edges. The movement made the blood spurt, then gush. Katie let out a deep groan and went white. She hated the sight of blood.
“You have to hold still,” I ordered as every movement only made the flow harder, but she wasn’t interested in stopping the blood. She only cared about getting inside my house—getting to Isaac. She reached around for the handle to let herself in.
“Call 911!” I yelled at Isaac as I slapped her hand away, desperately trying to keep her outside.
She lost it on the police when they came for her after the paramedics had bandaged her up and momentarily stopped the bleeding.
“Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” She screamed like a rabid dog we had had in the neighborhood once. She wasn’t foaming at the mouth, but she flung as much spit as if she were while she screamed at them to get off her and all sorts of other obscenities. She cried about being punished, how there wasn’t any God. Only the devil and he’d taken over her life.