Page 17 of Sacrifice
He may as well have filled my veins with poison because my breath is stolen. I know he’s right but hearing it come from his mouth, that nothing he does is forme,is like ripping open an old wound. Although I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise, he’s never done anythingfor me.There’s no denying it now.
“Noted,” I say with as much detachment as I can.
I turn away from him as Ever grabs my hand. She’s covered in sand and the shimmer in her eye from earlier is gone. “I’m ready to go, Mommy. I’m sleepy.”
I take her hand and start walking to the entrance of the park, trying to focus on the next few things I need to do so I don’t think about what Crew just said. I’ve never mattered to anyone but Gage. I don’t know why I thought that Crew’s assistance might have been to help me, but it clearly isn’t. I don’t know why it makes a difference, but it does.
“Will you carry me?” Ever walks slowly, her boots full of sand. Suddenly, she’s swept up into a pair of gray thermal-covered arms.
She nuzzles into Crew’s chest and he kisses the top of her head.
He looks at me, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t mean that,” he says roughly. He turns without a beat and starts towards my house and doesn’t look back.
SIX
JULIA
The hum of the copier a few cubicles down is soothing in a weird way. It’s been going non-stop this morning and it drowns out the chatter between the people behind the cubicle walls surrounding me. I like it. My fingers fly over the keys on my computer, my mind blissfully unaware of the distractions that usually drive me a little crazy.
I work solidly for the first part of the day. When I look back up, it’s lunchtime. I pull out my lunch bag from beneath my desk and retrieve the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of water.
“What I do isn’t for you, Jules.”
Crew’s voice from yesterday barrels through my mind, knocking the wind out of me. It stings as badly today as it did when he said it, like a punch below the belt.
Suddenly, I’m not hungry. I gather my lunch and put it back in my bag. I hear my officemates. They’re discussing their lunch at a fancy restaurant downtown, trying to decide what to have. The merits between the clam chowder and the bacon cheeseburger are weighed with a seriousness that astounds me. When I hear one of the women discuss fitting into her new Dior dress, I remember why I wouldn’t go to lunch with them even if I could afford it.
I glance down at the brown dress that I wear on an every-other-week rotation and my I-wear-them-with-everything-brown heels. I brush a stray hair out of my eyes, feeling unkempt, even though I know I’m totally presentable.
I start back to work, but the speaker on my phone buzzes. “Mrs. Gentry? I have Calhoun Elementary on the line for you.” The line rings.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Gentry?”
“Yes.”
“This is the school nurse. Everleigh was sent to the office not feeling well. She has a slight fever and I think you should come pick her up.”
I rub my forehead with my fingertips. She seemed to be feeling better this morning. She slept the whole way home from the park last night and then practically through her bath. I was hoping we’d turned a corner when she woke up bright-eyed.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
* * *
JULIA
Rain rollson my windshield and my wipers can barely keep up. I take a quick glance at Everleigh in the back seat. She’s fast asleep, and her head is in such a seemingly uncomfortable position. Her lips are pursed together like they do when she’s asleep. It reminds me of when she was little and used to take a pacifier. She’d continue to suck long after it had fallen out of her mouth.
I wish I could take her home and tuck her into bed. I need a cup of coffee and some time to process everything the doctor said.
My hands tremble as I hold the steering wheel. I flip up the heat, but down deep, I know I’m not shaking because I’m cold.
I take another quick glance at her before pulling up to the curb beside Olivia’s. I grab the umbrella off the floorboard and get out. The rain pelts the canvas of the shield so loudly that I wonder if there isn’t ice mixed in with it. I reach in and unbuckle Ever and try to zip her coat back up. I maneuver her over my shoulder as best I can and whisk her to the front porch.
Luckily, Olivia sees us coming through the open curtain and lets us in right away.
“Get in here. It’s pouring,” she says, holding the door open. I rush past her and close the umbrella, shivering. She takes it from me and helps get Ever’s coat and boots off. “Just lay her on the sofa.”
