Jacob's Ladder by Z. A. Maxfield Read Free Book Online Page B

see in me, but I worried that to her I was as transparent as glass.
    Apparently I was.
    St. Nacho’s 3: Jacob’s Ladder
    31
    “You know, Yasha”—she put her hand over mine where I fidgeted with a creamer pod—“I"m hardly in a position to judge you, even if I were so inclined.” I knew what she meant by that, and it was worse somehow. The thought of someone harming her—she was so delicate—bothered me more than I could express.
    “Are you still…? I mean…” I remembered the old joke, or trick really, of asking a man if he"d stopped beating his wife. There was no good answer to that, and equally there was no good way to ask if Miss Independence was now safe from her abuser.
    “I left my husband to rot when my son moved here to St. Nacho"s,” she answered my unspoken question. “I probably never would have left, except Jordan got carjacked at the SeaView, and I wanted to make sure he was all right.”
    “Jordan"s your son?”
    She smiled. “Yes.”
    “The SeaView doesn"t exactly seem like a hub of criminal activity. Was he all right?”
    “He"s fine now, or he will be when he gets his driver"s license back. He had a concussion and a seizure, and California has a mandatory-reporting law.”
    “That sucks.”
    “St. Nacho"s is a small place, and he can walk most everywhere. His partner, Ken, takes him when he has somewhere he needs to drive.”
    “I see.” Partner? Maybe that was a business partner, or maybe it meant her son was gay. I didn"t pursue it.
    There was a protracted silence into which I projected a number of things.
    Mostly how Mary Catherine must have seen me. I was a mass of healing cuts and bruises. Alice had just removed the stitches on my cheek. My eye was still a little swollen. I said nothing but imagined what she was thinking, until she surprised me again.
    “I know you"re looking at me and seeing what? Some fragile old lady who got beat up by her husband for years? You have sympathy for me. Empathy. You wish you could have been there to help me.”
    How did this woman see everything I was thinking? It was unnerving and made me want to take off. Before I could gather my thoughts and rise from the booth, she grabbed my hand again.
    “I want you to show yourself the same compassion. No more, no less, because that"s just the beginning.”
    “But I—”
    “I want you to tell yourself that shit happens, today is different, and you"re going to find out what you don"t know about our respective situations, even if you don"t want to come back to the group.”
    I felt pinned in place like an insect under a microscope. “It"s different for me.” 32
    Z. A. Maxfield
    “Why, because you"re a man?” She gave me a sour look. “If it was just about strength, my husband, for one, would be dead. I"m way tougher than him.”
    “I don"t doubt it for a second,” I told her. “The person who did this to me won"t get the chance again.” It was more than I"d ever planned on saying, but I thought it might shut her up.
    I was wrong.
    “That"s half the battle right there. Good for you.” She took a sip of her coffee.
    Shoot. She was tough. “If you want to know how the rest will play out, you"ll have to keep coming back.”

    * * *
    I was waving at the taillights of Miss Independence"s pie van as she drove away from the high school when JT arrived to take me back to the motel. She"d given me a lot to think about. I pulled myself up into the passenger seat and buckled the lap belt.
    “How did it go?”
    I was an abysmal failure . “Okay.”
    Jason glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “That"s good, then.”
    “Did you know Nurse Alice from the hospital would be in charge?”
    “Yes, I did.” He chuckled. “Did you know that she has me on speed dial?” Busted . I looked at my hands.
    “She might have mentioned you fled the group early on.”
    “I"m sorry.” I meant that. “I know you mean well, but that group didn"t seem like a really good fit for me.”
    “I see.”
    “I