Coming Home (51 page)

“My sweet girl,” he whispered.

Her sob was muffled against the side of his neck, and he reached up and ran his hand over the back of her hair, glancing over at the guard standing by the door. He was watching them before his eyes found Danny’s.

For a moment, they just looked at each other.

And then the guard gave him a knowing look, followed by a quick nod. He shifted his body, focusing his attention on the other side of the room.

So Danny got to hold her for a few more seconds than was permitted.

The most enriching and restorative seconds of his entire life.

“Thank you,” Leah said as she reached for the glass of Pinot Grigio the waiter handed her, immediately bringing it to her lips.

“Another for you, miss?” he asked, looking at Alexis.

She eyed Leah before she smiled up at him sweetly. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”

“Okay then. Your food will be right out,” he said before he turned and left the table.

Alexis turned, her eyes landing on Leah’s half empty second glass of wine.

“Don’t judge me,” Leah said, placing the glass on the table. “I had a rough week. My classes are out of control.”

“Well, you’re off now. You should just relax. Don’t even grade anything if you don’t have to.”

“I have to finish one more class of essays, but after that I’m not doing a damn thing. I swear, the person who created February break did so to save lives.” Leah twirled the stem of her wine glass as she fought the urge to finish it off.

Alexis laughed as she glanced down at her cell phone, trying to be discreet but failing miserably.

Leah smirked. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

She blushed, realizing she was caught. “I know,” she said, slipping her phone into her purse. “I’m sure he’s fine. You’re right. I just…you know…you think he’d text me if he had a question, right?”

“Yes, I do,” Leah said, trying to stifle a laugh. “He’s fine. They’re fine. Don’t worry.”

Alexis nodded and exhaled heavily as she brought her glass to her lips, perking up as the waiter approached the table with their food.

Leah found it hysterical, the mini panic attacks Alexis had whenever she left the baby with Christopher. In her defense, something always seemed to go wrong while he was watching her, but in her brother’s defense, they were always inconsequential—and hilarious—things. The first time he watched her, he somehow managed to put her diaper on backward. Another time, after the baby had gotten food on the outfit she was wearing, he had changed her clothes, and Alexis came home from the hair salon to find Savanna wearing her very beautiful—and very expensive—christening dress while crawling around outside.

“So,” Leah said, “tell me what you need me to do for the party.”

“I think we’re all set,” she said. “You’re making your spinach artichoke dip, right?”

Leah nodded, and Alexis looked up at the ceiling, running through some invisible list in her mind. “Yeah, so I think we’re good. If you could come a little bit early to help me set up, that would be awesome,” she said, twirling her fork in her pasta. She froze with the bite halfway to her mouth. “Is it supposed to be this crazy planning a one-year-old’s birthday party? I don’t even want to think about her sweet sixteen.”

“Or her wedding,” Leah added with a smile, and Alexis laughed.

“Don’t go there. If we even joke about her dating, Christopher gets all bent out of shape.”

“He’s such a tool,” Leah said, and Alexis laughed around her sip of wine. “I can’t believe she’s a year old already.”

“I know.” Alexis sighed.

The night Savanna had been born was the same night Danny found out he had a sentencing date.

An entire year ago.

It seemed like another lifetime, but at the same time, she could remember it like it was yesterday. In the nine months since Danny had been gone, her sense of time had been stuck in a sort of limbo; sometimes things felt rushed and blurry, and other times they dragged on painfully. Sometimes it seemed like both things were occurring at once.

“Danny can’t get over how much she looks like you,” Leah said, and Alexis smiled.

“How’s he doing, by the way?”

Leah took a tiny breath. “He’s as okay as he can be.” She shrugged, pushing the food around on her plate.

“When do you get to see him again?”

“Saturday,” Leah said.

“Do you like…get quality time with him when you go?” she asked tentatively, as if she were unsure whether to continue on with this line of conversation or change the subject.

“We don’t get conjugal visits, if that’s what you’re asking,” Leah said, trying to lighten the mood. She had gotten good at putting on a mask, displaying the proverbial stiff upper lip. She hated when people worried about her over this, treating her with kid gloves and tiptoeing around topics of conversation. Leah knew they were doing it out of concern, but it only served to make her feel weak, like deep down they knew she couldn’t handle it.

That her fortitude was all just a charade.

She hated it, because sometimes it was true, and she didn’t need the reminder.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Alexis said with a tiny laugh, the curiosity overpowering the hesitancy in her eyes. “I meant, can you really talk? Can you touch him? Or is it…”

She trailed off, and at that moment, Leah wanted to jump across the table and hug her sister-in-law. While it still wasn’t the easiest thing for her to talk about, it was the first time in a long time anyone had really broached the subject with her, inviting her to talk about it rather than trying to distract her from it.

All at once she felt like she might cry from gratitude.

Leah sat up a bit straighter. “Um…we can hug and kiss when I get there, and when I leave,” she said, thinking of how much she looked forward to those simple, chaste actions. “And if the guard on watch is nice, we can hold hands above the table.”

She nodded. “Is that weird for you? Not being able to touch him the way you want to?”

Leah inhaled deeply. “Not really. I mean, I’m kind of used to it now.”

“And you guys are…still okay?” she asked, growing more comfortable with her questions as Leah continued to answer with no signs of breaking down.

Leah nodded. “We’re getting by. It’s just that…” She trailed off, lifting her wine glass quickly and taking a sip to swallow the lump in her throat.

“Do you want to stop talking about this?” Alexis asked gently, and Leah shook her head.

“Actually, no, I don’t,” she said through a tearful smile. “This is good. I know it doesn’t look that way,” she added through a laugh, gesturing at herself as she blinked back tears, “but it’s good.”

Alexis smiled as she reached across the table and squeezed Leah’s hand, and Leah took a breath before she continued.

“I’m always scared, I guess. I’m afraid that I’ll lose him again. That he’ll have a bad day, or a bad week, and decide we’re better off apart. Every visit, every time he calls, every letter—I’m always so excited, but at the same time, a little part of me is terrified of what he might say,” she said, wiping under her eyes with her thumbs. “It just sucks being afraid all the time,” she added before she lifted her glass and finished the wine.

Alexis lifted her hand and gestured for the waiter to bring her another.

“You’re turning into quite the enabler,” Leah said, and Alexis laughed softly.

“But…you don’t feel like he’s pulling away again, do you?”

Leah shook her head. “No. We’ve been doing really well. We’ve got our routine now. And he’s getting really good about talking through his bad days instead of shutting down. It’s just that…until he’s home, a little part of me will always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Alexis nodded. “That’s understandable. But you’re almost halfway there now, right?”

“Well, we’re hoping he’s going to be eligible for good time served. If he is, that means we’ve already passed the halfway mark.”

“Wait, what do you mean? What’s good time served?”

“Basically it’s a sentence reduction for good behavior. He has to serve a minimum of eighty percent of his sentence, but if he reaches that without incident, they can decide to let him out.”

“So then he’d be getting out in…” Alexis pursed her lips, trying to do the math.

“Seven more months.”

“Oh my God, Leah, that’s great!”

Leah nodded. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up. We’ll see.”

Alexis smiled up at the waiter as he brought Leah’s third glass of wine to the table. “So you get to see him every other Saturday?”

“Usually. I switch off with Catherine and Jake, but sometimes I have to go every third Saturday if his mother and sister want to rotate in.”

“Okay, because I’ve been meaning to ask you, I have a few things for him. Some books and magazines. Can I give those to you to bring, or should I send them?”

“Send them,” she said. “They have to pass inspection before he can have them. I’m not allowed to bring anything into the facility when I go.”

“Inspection?” Alexis asked, taking a bite of her pasta. “What, like someone could hide a shiv in a magazine?”

Leah laughed. “No, it’s more for content. They can’t have anything R-rated or pornographic.”

“Oh,” Alexis said with a nod of her head. “Bummer.” Leah smirked as she added, “No porn, though. It’s some stuff your brother picked out. A bunch of automotive magazines. I have no idea if they’re the ones he reads or not.”

“If it’s car stuff, he’ll love it,” Leah said. “Honestly, he’ll pretty much read anything now. My dad sent him some book on US history a few weeks ago and he read it cover to cover. I keep telling him it’s a pity he had to be incarcerated in order to become a good English student.”

Alexis laughed loudly, cupping her hand over her mouth when the people at the next table looked in her direction, and Leah laughed too, feeling momentarily carefree.

“Thank you,” Leah said suddenly, and Alexis’s expression softened as she looked across the table at her.

“You’re welcome.”

They finished their meal, and as they hugged their good-byes in the parking lot of the restaurant, Leah had never felt closer to her.

As soon as she was inside her car, she rummaged through her purse and pulled out her phone before hitting the speed dial for Catherine.

After a few rings, her soft, raspy voice came through the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me,” Leah said as she started the car.

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing today?”

“I’m good. About a six today. You?”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Maybe a five.”

“You should have a few glasses of wine,” Leah suggested. “That’s always good to add a point or two.”

Catherine chuckled.

They spoke on the phone two or three times a week, and early on they’d come up with the number system to let each other know what kind of day they were having. Ten meant they were feeling great, and one was total meltdown.

“What time will you be here on Saturday?” Catherine asked.

“Probably around four or five? Depends on if they’re running things on time over there,” she said, pulling out of her parking space. It had become an unspoken tradition that after visiting Danny on her Saturdays, Leah would stop off at Catherine’s on the way home and have dinner with her.

“Okay. How does eggplant rollantini sound for dinner?”

“Delicious,” she said, “but you know you don’t have to cook for me.”

“Leah, old Italian ladies live to feed people. Don’t take that away from me.”

She laughed as she merged onto the highway. “Okay, you win.”

“Alright sweetheart. I don’t want you to get a ticket for being on the phone with me while you’re driving. Thank you for checking in, and I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Okay. Call me before then if you drop below a five.”

“I will. Bye now.”

“Bye,” Leah said before she cleared the screen, tossing the phone onto her passenger seat.

And then she reached to turn the radio off, allowing the silence to fill the car.

For whatever reason she just felt like thinking today.

She spent so much of her time avoiding it; her life had become heavily rooted in routine over the last few months, and she rarely allowed herself a reprieve from that. Consistency was comforting these days; she needed it like she needed air.

But even the routines that she took solace in were carried out with an air of detachment. It was like when she used to run on the treadmill for conditioning during field hockey season; whenever Leah would look down at the display and realize she still had a ways to go, she would try to separate her mind from her body, pretending it wasn’t her feeling the pain in her legs, the ache in her side, the burning in her throat. And that’s what most of her days were like now: disengaging herself from really feeling anything until the clock on the display ticked down to zero.

Until he was next to her again.

One thing she had going for her was her profession. There was no way she could mope or succumb to any kind of sadness when she had one hundred different personalities in and out of her room all day, with a hundred different questions and a hundred different needs. She had always loved her job, but now she let teaching absolutely consume her. She had to.