Authors: P. J. Belden
“Yes,” she breathes.
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,” I tease.
“Yes! Let’s make this our home!” She exclaims.
Grabbing her to me, I spin her around and give her a kiss that I’m glad our parents can’t see. Once we come up for air, we walk up toward the house. She hurries to her mom.
“It’s our house Mama!”
“It’s a beautiful house,” she says, but I see the tears in her eyes.
“And what’s even better is that you guys can stay here anytime I need you or miss you. Hunter said above the garage is two – one bedroom apartments above it.”
Her mom looks at me then. “I never want her to be without her support system and I’ll be working and she’ll need someone around with her,” I shrug.
“You are one hell of a man Hunter Sandean,” her dad says slapping me on the back.
“Thank you. Once we are married, I told her we can move in. All the furniture comes with it. It’s all brand new…”
“The Davis guy built it for his wife and she died before they could move in,” Jessa says quickly.
“Next emotion to work on is empathy, Jessa,” her mom half scolds.
“Sorry,” she looks down at her hands.
“He couldn’t bring himself to live here when everything reminded him of her. Davis said something told him not to put it up for sale either, that something special was coming along for the house. Apparently, we are that something special,” I say sadly.
“Well, I for one, want to meet this man. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s just gained himself a family,” my mom states firmly and everyone else nods their heads.
“Oh, Davis is just going to be
thrilled
to have y’all storming his office when he’s gotta keep up his manly macho bravado at work,” I tease.
Things are finally heading in the right direction. The grip around my heart finally eases knowing, I’ll always have Jessa by my side. Now this is a dream come true.
Present day…
We were married in a small little ceremony in her flowers behind her parents’ house a week after seeing the house. Three weeks after that we found out we were having identical twin girls. I was making incredible strides at work. The only thorn in our Happily Ever After was the fact that Lyle would not leave us alone. He blamed Jessa for all his misfortunes, called a witch and a bunch of other names.
Though Jessa had tried to brush off his tirade on her by saying ‘she’s not being called a witch before’, but I could see how bad it hurt her and no matter how hard I tried she wouldn’t let me in. He was seriously unstable and I even approached his mom about it after him trying to run us off the road when we were headed home after getting some groceries.
But his mom told me that if there was something wrong with him it was because my wife was contagious and didn’t deserve to breathe the air they did. I had to laugh because behind her was a painting that Jessa had done. So I made sure to comment on it on the way out the door, telling her that it was a knock off because the original sat in my house. And it did.
When the girls were finally born, that was it for me. My baby girls. Daddy’s girls. A house full of three women and I was happy as a clam. Once Jessa was past the breast feeding stage, they brought her meds back up to the level they were pre-pregnancy and she didn’t hear the voices anymore. Things for once were normal. Or as normal as they could get for first time parents with twins.
We fell into a routine. Jessa was able to get a license when she turned twenty-one. I’d never seen her so happy, well that’s not true, but she was over the moon about some independence from me. She often drove to her parents’ house and the grandparents – hers and mine – got to spend time with the girls.
Jessa had told me once that going home every so often let her see exactly what she’s overcome and it makes her proud of herself. She really has come over a lot. Carmela and Parker come by as often as they can. Parker’s seizures are getting worse. Carmela has never left his side though. When you look at the two of them, you see an odd couple. Carmela with her caramel colored hair, bright green eyes, and curves – as Parker calls them. Then Parker looks like a man from some kind of rock band, all tattoos and piercings. Innocence and dangerous, is what the pair made, but the worked just as Jess and I.
When Jess suggested to name one of our daughters after Carmela, I didn’t hesitate. She has always been there for my wife when I can’t be. It’d be an incredible honor if my daughter grew up just like her.
Being handed the reins of the company did not take nearly as long as I thought it would and before I knew it, the profits skyrocketed through the roof. We were set financially. Jessa offered up one unique painting to the owners who chose our company over others and I honestly believe that’s what had us working like dogs all the time.
Davis still hangs around though. In fact he lives in the extra room in Jessa’s parents’ house. When they all barged into his work site office several years back, he couldn’t say no to their terms. He said he was tired of being alone, but he didn’t want to move on either. So, for him, this was the best compromise.
Our kids know him as Uncle Davis. However, the fairy tale ended far too quickly and suddenly. Jessa had been driving Parker and Paxton back from the doctors to pick up the girls from our folks houses. My smile fades and a coldness fills my body as I am forced back to that horrible time in our lives.
Twenty-Seven years old…
“You both were such good boys today. Mommy is so proud of you,” I talk to my boys as if they can talk back to me.
Honestly, I did the same to the girls. Even with boys at the tender age of a month old, I swear they can understand me sometimes. Laughing at myself, actually it was probably more me wishing they could than them actually understanding, but hey, I can dream.
Parker kicks his legs setting off the music and lights on the little mobile at the end of his feet. Honestly, I’m just so damn tired today.
“Maybe Grandma or Grandpa will let me take a nap. What do you think?”
Gurgling sounds and more music fills the van.
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” I laughed.
Talking to my kids as we drove down the roads didn’t make me feel stupid, I actually felt more ‘normal’ than I ever had. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard any of the voices – good or bad – and I couldn’t be more happier about that. Honestly, I think it’s Hunter. Hunter is my warrior and has been since I let him close enough to let him in. He fought the invisible battles with me never batting an eye lash.
However, there’s always that chance that they’ll come back. So, Hunter and I decided to put cameras in the van. He can view it on his phone. That way, if I go into an episode he can call me or get help to me before something happens. Thankfully, we’ve yet to have to use them, but it makes me feel better knowing they’re there.
The boys start fussing in the backseat, so I start singing. The only song that pops into my head at that moment is
Don’t Laugh At Me
by Mark Wills. The boys start to calm down. I’ve found – since having kids – that I don’t have a bad voice. Hunter says it’s a major turn on. Smiling, I focus on the song. It really does mean a lot to me, this song.
Every night day in and day out, I prayed that our children will never suffer as I have. So far, none of them have shown signs of having inherited any of my problems, but the boys are young so they are still a waiting game. Hunter said it didn’t matter to him if they did or not. He’d never let anyone hurt his child, just as he’s never let anyone hurt his wife. And he hasn’t either.
We are approaching the bridge that takes us back into our small town and I’m suddenly jerked forward. Looking in my rearview mirror, I see a car behind me hit me again. Immediately, I call Hunter from the in car phone. His phone rings and rings and rings before his voicemail picks up. Hanging up, I call again. This happens four more times before he finally answers.
“Hey Angel, is…”
“HUNTER HELP ME!” I scream as fear grips me. “Someone keeps ramming the back end of our van and we’re on the Rover Bridge. Oh God…”
The boys are screaming so badly in the backseat that I hope that he can hear me over them, but I can’t talk anymore. The van is now wedged between two rails for our side of the road and I’m staring out over the rushing water of Rover River below. In my heart of hearts, I know… I know this is the end, but I need to save my boys. Somehow. Suddenly, I know what I need to do.
“Hunter, I love you. Please hurry for the boys…” I can hear him screaming at me not to get out of the van, but I don’t listen. I get out. It’s the only way I can save them. Especially when I finally made out who was in the car behind me.
The sun beat down on us as we work quickly to get this house framed in before the storm was supposed to hit. We could be back here when the storm was over putting the framing back up, but we wanted to at least try and be a step ahead for the loss time the storm is going to cause us.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I’m holding one heavy ass beam in my hand to let go of and answer. I don’t know how many times for sure it rang before pulling it out and hearing Jessa yell to help her. Immediately, I’m running back to the work site trailer and pulling up the video as she’s screaming what’s happening. My first thought is that the voices were back, but when I saw the video and I could hear the boys screaming… My heart dropped way past the floor.
Repeatedly, the car rammed her as I gathered my keys. Yelling at my foreman in charge that I have a family emergency, he nodded and I was peeling out of the lot and speeding my way there. Then her soft voice, almost calm sounding, fills my ears.
“Hunter, I love you. Please hurry for the boys…”
“Baby, don’t get out! Please! I’m about ten minutes out. PLEASE STAY IN THE CAR! Angel? ANGEL!!”
I can feel the tears falling because I’m going to be too late. I just know it. My gut tells me to floor it. And I do. A cop turns on his lights and sirens behind me, but I don’t stop. Hell, he can get the sorry son of a bitch that is hurting my family.
What feels like an eternity later, I finally pull up to the bridge and jump from my truck.
“Angel? Angel?”
My heart is pounding so hard I almost don’t hear the noise from the back of the van at first. Hurrying around the van, I watch in horror before I can get to her Lyle beating her head against the metal beam of the bridge. Blood covered my beautiful wife’s face and into her hair.
“LYLE!” I scream at the top of my lungs as I start running at him, blinding rage filling me to my core.
To my horror, he pushes her over the edge as he fleas. I run quickly to the rail and just catch her hand in time. Working with all my might as I see her hanging there, so limp, I pull her up and over the railing.