Usual disclaimer applies.
May, 2012
~75~
The past two months have been busy to say the least. With homework, studying for the SAT's, and helping Dad with his case, I feel like I haven't had a single moment just to enjoy. At school, my sole focus is on my work; nothing else. The only times I talk to Angela and Ben anymore is at lunch. Otherwise, I rarely speak to anyone.
At home, the atmosphere is tense. Dad knows my stance on Mom. He knows the disgusting feelings that still reside in me when I think about her.
He knows that I don't want to see her.
So whenever Dad sighs quietly and leaves the kitchen table, or the living room sofa, and shuffles his way to his bedroom, closing his door, I know what he is doing.
He's talking to her.
Because without Renee, we have so little to go from. The pictures, the threatening photographs, they were a weapon used against Renee, not against me. They were used to terrify her. A harassment charge against Esme, without Renee's witness, would only get her a slap on the wrist.
And Dad is out for blood.
On a positive note, Dad managed to find a witness placing Emmett McCarty at the butcher shop on that day over two years ago. The witness even says he saw a camera, and remembered it because it was such an expensive, high-tech one.
Moreover, Emmett is not a guy you are likely to forget. At six foot six inches, he is a beast of a man. And presumably wearing the suit and shades like always, he would have been very memorable in a small-town butcher shop. Our witness is a regular at the shop and had never seen Emmett there before or after that one day.
Another of Esme's mistakes.
So tonight when Dad leaves the sofa, handing me the remote halfway into his baseball game, I feel my stomach settle into knots.
Again.
Like every time this happens, I am wracked with guilt. Because I know Dad wants to talk to my mom as little as I do. I know it hurts him to have to do it, time and again, trying to hammer out the details. Trying to find a time where the alcohol hasn't already made her incoherent, useless. I wonder about how much easier it would be for him if he could only talk to me about it, share his feelings, have a shoulder to lean on.
But I'm too selfish for that. I close down as soon as she is mentioned. So Dad bears the burden alone.
And when Dad goes and talks to her, besides overwhelming guilt, I worry. I worry that this time, this time, will be the time Renee gives up. The time she tells him she is done, and is disappearing again.
I wouldn't put it past her.
Dad tries to explain how much she wants it too. How much she detests Esme and is itching to see her behind bars. He explains that Renee has even offered to come here, to help out. But of course, being the protective father that is he, he won't let her.
He says she can come later. That we have plenty of time before a trial happens. He basically means that she can come after I leave for college.
I change the channel from baseball to a sitcom, not caring what it is. My thoughts, my very being, is upstairs with Dad. And I'm holding my breath. Waiting. Waiting.
I jump when I feel his hand on my shoulder.
Oh no.
It's too soon.
His phone calls have never been this short.
This is it.
The time she tells him. Tells him she is done. Done with it all.
I can feel it.
I shudder and wearily turn my torso to look at Dad. I prepare myself for the defeat, the desperation I know will be marking his face. I prepare myself to dig deep, to support him, despite the nausea this entire topic gives me.
But as I slowly open my eyes, having previously been scrunched tight in concentration, the only thing I see on my father's face is a beaming smile.
He's glowing.
"Bella! This is it. Our lawyers say we have enough. Enough to go on. First thing tomorrow, I'm heading to the Cullen's."
A/N: I hope you don't mind the bit of a time jump! I'd also like to remind you to please vote at the Emerging Swan Awards for this story, if you would like :)
Have a wonderful day everyone!