Woman on the Edge(41)
She revs the engine, and the tires squeal as she jams on the gas and peels away. I fly onto the road, feeling a searing burn along my leg where the car scraped my skin.
I push myself to standing, blood dripping down my shin. I try to memorize the license plate. H57 3306. I repeat it over and over as I stumble to my car, my ankle throbbing and leg on fire. I weave in and out of temporary construction zones set up all down the street, and the head-pounding sound of the jackhammers only adds to my frenzy.
I think back to the video from Grand/State. Maybe she was there.
And now, she’s getting away.
CHAPTER TWENTY NICOLE
Before
Nicole wrapped a hand over Quinn’s back in the Moby and with her other pushed the orange Breathe folder off the kitchen table. The glossy design pages for the trench coat line flew all over the floor. She couldn’t even do one simple task anymore. Tessa had begged her to at least look at them and Skype with Lucinda. That was four days ago.
“I’ll take Quinn for a walk while you meet with the board. I’ll make sure she falls asleep and gets fresh air. Please,” Tessa implored as she pressed the folder into Nicole’s hands. “Lucinda said she ran into you and you looked terrible. ‘Unrecognizable’ was the word she used. She said you freaked out and took off.”
Nicole could not leave the house, and she certainly couldn’t let Tessa walk the streets with Quinn when Donna could be anywhere. But she’d promised Tessa she would think about it.
Now, though, she was ignoring Tessa’s texts and the incessant calls from Lucinda and the other board members. From the cupboard above the farmhouse sink, she got her bottle of pills and the refill Ben had brought. As she extracted a couple of pills, Quinn grabbed for them. The pills flew out of Nicole’s hands and scattered all over the floor.
“No!” Nicole quickly unwound the wrap and put Quinn in her chair. On her hands and knees, she gathered all the tablets she could find. She couldn’t afford to lose any of them. She couldn’t order another prescription online, and there was no way she was seeing a doctor, not a chance.
Desperate for relief, she leaned against the cupboard and swallowed a pill covered with dirt and dust. She was so dehydrated that the pill got stuck in her throat and she choked. Quinn gurgled, watching her mother intently as Nicole finally got the tablet down.
Everything was wrong, and she didn’t know how to make it right. This was not how she wanted her daughter to see her. Nicole got up, stumbled to the drawer, and smoothed out the Post-its she’d shoved in there. She needed to see them lined up again, but somewhere Tessa wouldn’t find them the next time she came over. She opened the pantry door and stuck them inside, on the white wall to the left. Tessa never went in there. Then Nicole retethered her daughter to her and stroked her silky tufts of hair until her own breathing slowed.
She pointed up at the wall of purple.
“We can fix this, Quinnie. Visualize a red light and ground yourself in the here and now.”
She added more notes, new words.
Quinn’s back was wet, and she needed to be changed. “You deserve the best mommy. The strongest mommy.” Her breath stuttered.
Maybe she should ask Tessa to stay with them for a while, to help out a bit, just until she could get herself together.
But she realized, with intense sadness, that she couldn’t ask that of her friend, even though she’d offered. Tessa was too good to her. How much more could she expect her to do? Tessa had her own life. More than that, she now carried a significant burden at Breathe. She was doing Nicole’s job, and she was also keeping Nicole’s struggles a secret from the board. Nicole felt such gratitude for that. She wasn’t sure she deserved it.
Quinn needed a bath. She took her to the en suite and knelt on the bath steps, turning the brushed nickel taps to full stream. She stripped off the baby’s soiled clothes, and her own dirty, wrinkled ones, then poured a glass of water and gulped it down. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. She drank another glass and then another, while Quinn babbled in her arms. No matter how unstable she felt, her daughter was happy. Nothing mattered more than that.
“We have to get clean, Quinn. Cleanliness is next to godliness.” Maybe she and Quinn both needed to be baptized. Reborn.
With Quinn lying on her stomach on top of her, Nicole lay back in the bath, sinking lower and lower into the soothing warmth of the water. It was so quiet and peaceful. Here they were safe, even from Nicole’s own thoughts. She wanted to stay under the water forever. She closed her eyes.
Suddenly she bolted up, clutching tightly to Quinn’s slippery skin, splashing water over the sides of the tub as Quinn sputtered and cried.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. Mommy fell asleep. I didn’t mean to. I’d never hurt you!” she sobbed as the water kept running.
It had been only for a moment, but her baby could have drowned.
Gasping, she turned off the water and rocked her daughter back and forth. Her stomach twisted with the sick realization of what could have happened. In the softest tone she could, she whispered over and over to her precious girl, “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll always keep you safe.”
She got out of the bath and gently wrapped Quinn in a fluffy towel, as guilt, shame, and self-loathing crawled up her throat. She laid her daughter on the floor, knelt, and vomited in the toilet. Then Nicole wiped her mouth, and with no towel for herself, she took Quinn to the bedroom. She managed to get her daughter into a fresh diaper and a pretty denim dress. Then she brought her downstairs and put her in the vibrating chair in the living room, where she promptly fell asleep.