Page 15 of Absolution

Five

Christian

God, I want to take her in my arms as she sits in front of me, curled up by the wall, and whispers early memories of our daughter, her birth, her first words, when she crawled, walked. Her first wounds, her furious reaction when Kerry had to say no the first time. I smile then. I recognize myself. My distant memories of my baby sister come back to life. Losing Dad that very same day was such a trauma that we all went into survival mode. I became the man of the house, and with Mom plotting revenge even as she lay in the maternity ward, there was no one left to fend for the new little addition to the family. I have done this before. I had forgotten.

Finally Kerry is quiet. She fiddles with the hem of her pants and it’s obvious she can’t quite stand to meet my gaze. Her worry and discomfort around me makes me ache. I want to pull her into my embrace. I know I can coax a response out of her, give her warmth and pleasure. I know I can make her mine without much force. It’s there. It’s so close to the surface. Tension crackles between us, her breaths erratic, her eyes wide and filled with emotion. Her full lips… I want those lips on mine again so bad that it nearly chokes me.

It’s time to back off or I won’t be able to stop myself.

“I’m gonna check on Cecilia.”

She looks up and then fights her way up to standing. My hand flies out and steadies her. She twitches at my touch and I pull back immediately, as if she had burnt me.

Moaning, she sags a little and grimaces.

“What?”

“My ankle.”

I give out a short laugh. “We’ve beaten each other up pretty good, haven’t we?”

She looks up at me, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. “I guess we have.”

Cecilia lies on the side with her little chubby hands tucked under her chin, and a drop of drool in the corner of her mouth. There are the prettiest little dimples where her knuckles should be. Her long dark eyelashes flutter as she seems to be dreaming something. I hope it’s pleasant. I barely remember her from today. I barely remember today. I slept. I had a fever. Sitting down on the edge of the couch while Kerry carefully scoops up Cecilia and cradles her to her chest, I try to feel if I’m ill or not. I decide I feel better.

Kerry is making cooing sounds. “Oh, my poor baby, you had to fall asleep all alone out here and Mommy was so mean to you… oh my God.” She puts her hand over her mouth and her lower eyelashes glisten wet yet again.

I refrain from rolling my eyes. She knows nothing about abusing children. What a blessing to be so unaware of how fucking ugly life can be for some. But I don’t think that’d be an argument that would cheer her up.

“And we didn’t get to brush your teeth,” she continues.

I have to hide the smile with a yawn.

I remain on the couch as Kerry carries Cece into the bedroom. She takes her time, but finally she comes back out, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed. I believe she’s been fucking crying again. What the hell? I can rough her up pretty badly, and she doesn’t even make a face, and then she can sneer, once, to her offspring and it breaks her?

I don’t get it. I don’t get her. Sometimes I think the world that separates us is too big, even when we’re stuck together in the middle of it.

She remains standing on the carpet in the center of the room. “The storm’s over.”

“So I noticed.”

“How do you feel?”

I flex my arm. “Better.”

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?”

“No, I wouldn’t have helped you if I didn’t mean it.”

I grin. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you’re just a better person.”

“Oh, I know I am.” She flashes a brief smile and again I see a hint of that Kerry I met so long ago at the bar. An eternity ago.

I sit up, suddenly longing desperately to touch her, to reach for some of that soft and kind humanity in her. I’m so tired of fighting. “Come here.”

She takes a hesitant step closer. “What?” Then she sits down on the edge of the table, just out of my immediate reach.

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