Page 63 of All I Have Left

EVIE

F riday the Fourth of July, I’m released from the hospital in Birmingham.

I see an orthopedic doctor that same day and my right hand is put in a hard cast that will remain for three weeks.

Lance broke four bones in my hand with his knee and I hadn’t felt a thing.

Goes to show you that emotional triumphs physical every time.

That night, I spend hours holding Grayson’s hand and get the first bit of good news. The pressure in his head is slowly starting to decrease. His catheter clots once and they have to clear the blockage, but other than that, he’s making progress.

It’s hard to leave the hospital and know it’s going to be a long time before he joins me—if he does.

My mom stays with me at the hotel, a room with a view of the hospital, and I keep my eyes on the second floor throughout the night. It’s not like I can see his room. There are no windows in his room, but it doesn’t stop me from keeping an eye on the hospital.

“He’s in good hands,” Mom tells me, handing me a Styrofoam cup of chicken noodle soup she’s begging me to try. “You need to get some rest and eat something so you can take your antibiotics. ”

I take the cup in my hand, the smells of chicken and vegetables not as revolting as it had once been. “I keep thinking something is going to go wrong and I won’t be there when it happens.”

She sits next to me on the couch near the window I’m staring out, darkness surrounding us. Every once in a while, there’s a flash of color in the sky as people celebrate their independence. In many ways, I feel like ours has been ripped from our lives.

Mom touches her hand to my shoulder. “We keep our faith, baby girl. We keep praying.”

I take a sip of the soup and eventually finish it.

I take my antibiotics and the pain medication and keep watching the lights in the sky.

That’s when my mom opens up to me for the first time.

I haven’t heard much about her struggles with my dad, until now, when she feels like I’m ready to hear about that time in her life.

“The first time your dad ever hit me, I told him I was sorry.” Tears flood her distant eyes, flashing with colors in the sky.

I think of Grayson and his reaction to fireworks, my mind not on the conversation in front of me.

And then she says, “Two days later, he hit me in the head so hard with a cast iron pan because Ethan threw up on him, I blacked out and don’t recall what happened after that.

You guys were six months old at the time and I’d been unconscious for so long, your cries woke me up.

He was nowhere to be found and there I was, blood all over my face and two babies that had been left alone for hours. ”

“Had he given you any indication before that he was abusive?” I ask, daring to ask my first question.

She’s yet to ask me anything about Shane, giving me space and time.

That’s all my mom ever does for me—listens and waits for me to initiate the conversation.

She’s the most patient, tender, giving person I know.

“No, not really. He had always had a quick temper, got in a lot of fights, but with me, no, never.” She brings the wine in her hand to her lips.

I’m actually jealous she’s drinking. I wish I could drown my pain and anxiety for what comes next in alcohol.

“When I first met him, he had this undeniable charisma about him and a wild side. Coming from a very Catholic family, I wanted to be just like him. I felt like I was drawn to him by a magnet or something. Two weeks after I met him, he took my virginity in his Mustang.”

I raise an eyebrow at the coincidence of the Mustang. “He didn’t….”

“Yep. He had a Mustang. Same year as Shane’s even.”

“No wonder you cringed every time you heard Shane’s Mustang coming down the road.”

“That’s why.”

“How old were you?”

“I was sixteen when I met him.”

“So you got pregnant right away then because weren’t you seventeen when we were born?”

She nods. “Yep. Two months later, I found I was pregnant. We were young and so in love,” she whispers, smiling.

“I have so many bad memories of him, but I have good ones too. He loved me, he did, but he didn’t know how to express that love in a way that was healthy.

After I had you guys, he got jealous because I had two babies to take care of and suddenly he was no longer the center of my attention. ”

A flash of color in the sky catches my eyes. “And then he started hitting you?”

“I was holding you in my arms, breastfeeding and Ethan was crying. Given I was a child myself, with no help from my parents, I was crying, I was frustrated, and he asked if I needed him to take Ethan.” Her eyes gloss over, staring at her wine, remembering a time she probably wants to forget.

“I snapped and said something along the lines of what do you think? I’m not sure what I said, but it set him off and the next thing I remember is dropping you on the ground and the sting of my face.

He’d punched me so hard the force ruptured my ear drum. ”

I gasp. “Oh my God. Did he say anything after that? ”

“I don’t remember, but I apologized because I distinctly recall feeling guilty that I’d snapped at him.”

“You shouldn’t have felt guilty,” I tell her, not realizing I’m crying but then again, have I ever stopped in the last five days?

“And neither should you.” Taking my hand in hers, she holds it tightly. “None of this is your fault.”

I swallow over that familiar lump. “But it is. If I would have said something earlier, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Mom sighs. “Evie, men like your dad and Shane, they don’t quit just because you break up with them.

To them, that’s betrayal. It didn’t matter how you went about it, he was always going to react, whether it was hurting you to the point where you couldn’t leave, or Grayson.

And if Grayson hadn’t been here, he would have gone for me or Ethan. ”

Part of me is relieved hearing this from her because she’s right; he wouldn’t have stopped, and I knew that. I held on, thinking if I played nice, avoided him but didn’t ignore him, eventually he’d lose interest in me.

But he didn’t.