Broken Like Glass
Authors: E.J. McCay
Broken Like Glass
Copyright © 2016 by EJ McCay.
Cover by Perry Elisabeth Design | perryelisabethdesign.com
Book Formatting by Derek Murphy @Creativindie.
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The "NIV" and "New International Version" are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™
For information contact :
http://www.facebook.com/EJMcCay
Cover by Perry Elisabeth Design | perryelisabethdesign.com
ISBN-13: 978-1535155120
ISBN-10: 1535155124
First Edition: August 2016
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This book is dedicated to the ladies in my Trim Healthy Mama prayer group, and to my Christian Woman Critique Partners and Beta Readers FB Group.
Contents
“Lillian. Lillian? Can you hear me, Lillian?”
My therapist’s voice grates on me. I’d say like nails on a chalkboard, but that wouldn’t accurately describe just how much I hate her voice.
One flashy signature and a court order later, I sit in this office wishing I could stab this woman until her guts pour out onto the floor even if I have known her since we were kids.
She pelts me with question after question about my feelings.
“How did it make you feel Ms. James?”
How did it make me feel?
How did it make me feel?
I push out of the chair and walk to the window. It’s the only way to take my mind off killing this insipid woman. In the glass, I can see my face and the bitterness I feel is hard to mask. I roll my eyes and then settle on the looming dark clouds that swirl for as far as I can see.
Chrissy starts in again. “Lillian, the point of court-ordered therapy is to talk about what happened.”
I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. In, out. In, out. In, out.
“Lillian, we really need to discuss what happened. It’s the only way you can heal.”
In, out. In, out. In, out. Dear God, please let Chrissy forget to breathe and drop dead.
“Lillian,” she says again. The way she says my name, with the last syllable rising, makes me want to gut her again. She taps her pencil against the clipboard she’s holding like I’m wasting her time.
I bite my lip, count to ten, and turn around. Leveling my gaze at her, I try to remain civil when I speak. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to heal right now. I don’t want anything to do with any of this and if it wasn’t for the fact that a judge forced me to be here, I’d be three-hundred miles away by now.”
“That may be, but you are here and I have to report back to the judge on your progress. Help me understand why you stabbed your dad with a knife, in the middle of the grocery store, and then went home and smashed everything.”
“Some people deserve a little knifing every once in a while and his furniture was a hundred years past vintage. I’d say I did him a favor.”
Chrissy purses her lips and looks at me sympathetically. Now, I really want to gut her. I’d start with that stupid tongue of hers.
“Lillian, every one in this town knows your father. The only reason you aren’t facing jail time at the moment is because he wouldn’t press charges and the judge’s wife babysat you as a child.”
“The only reason I’m not in jail right now is because my best friend is an excellent lawyer.” I lean back against the window. Rain is coming down hard enough now I can feel it as it hits the glass.
“Well, again, I’m here to find out why you did it. If you don’t cooperate, you may be looking at jail time.”
I push off the window, walk to the chair facing her, and flop down. “Maybe jail time would be good for me.” This time, I won’t meet her eyes. All my vim and vigor melted on my walk to the chair.
Chrissy looks at her watch. “Our time is almost up, but next time we meet, I expect you to actually talk. Do you understand?”
“Chrissy…”
“Dr. Blakely when you are here during my business hours.”
I lick my lips and try to control the desire to bolt from the room. “Dr. Blakely, I’ve known you since kindergarten. Don’t you think it’s a conflict of interest for you to be my therapist?”
“Lilly, come on. It’s been fifteen years since we graduated high school. Plus, I’m the only therapist in this little town. If you had waited to stab your dad when you were in a bigger city maybe you could have had your pick of therapists.”
“Some therapist you are.”
“I’m an excellent therapist.”
My heart drops in my stomach. I can’t talk about what happened. I don’t want to talk about what happened and I certainly don’t want to talk about what happened with Christine Blakely. “I don’t even live here anymore. Surely, Judge Kringle can find someone in Austin for me to see. They can report just as well there.”
“You know he won’t do that. He likes to keep things in town. He’s old school. You’re here for the next six months or until I tell him you are free.”
“So, tell him I’m good.”
Chrissy tilts her head and looks at me. “Lilly, I’m good, but I’m not that good. I’m not getting in trouble with Judge Kringle.”
My shoulders sag and I lean my head back against the chair.
“Why did you do it, Lilly? I’ve known your dad since I was just a little bitty. He’s the nicest man I’ve ever known.”
I lift my head, level my gaze at her, and keep my expression unreadable. Words begin to float in my mind. Chrissy looks down at her watch and before I can give her a nasty answer she tells me times up.
When I came home to visit
, I had no intention of making it more than a weekend trip. Instead, something inside me had snapped and now I was stuck in Foaming Springs until my court-ordered therapy had run its course.
Walking down the sidewalk, people stare at me. Some even point. One of the drawbacks of growing up in a small town is that everyone knows you, your family, your family’s history, your shortcomings, your everything, because what are people in a small town to do, other than gossip? I jam my hands in my pockets and hang my head trying to keep my face from being seen.
Exactly one-hundred and twenty-four paces from Dr. Blakely’s Private Practice is the local bar, Kettlefish. It’s the only bar, and the closest to happy I’m going to get for a while. In my mind, I count the steps without looking up.
Sixty-eight more to go.
I can do this. I can walk these sidewalks, with my head hung down, hands in my pockets and pretend I’m not here. The next six months will be a…
“Hey!”
Crap.
I look up, and there, in all his studly glory, is Uriah Pendleton. “Lilly James?”
As if he doesn’t know it’s me. Yeah, it’s me. You know, the awkward nerd-chick who had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you in high school? The one who asked you to the homecoming dance with a large banner only to be told you’d already asked Misty Morning out.
Yes, her parents named her Misty Morning. If she’d been ugly, the girl would have slit her wrists. As it turns out, the heavens shined down on her making her the most popular girl in school. Lucky me.
“Yeah, it’s me, Lilly. Sorry for bumping into you.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Wait, did I hear something about you stabbing your dad?”
“Nope, got an evil twin. Gotta go now.” I start to go around him and he grabs my arm to keep me from walking. Uriah is still just as good looking now as he was in high school, only his dirty blonde hair is short cut. He’s just tall enough I have to look up, and a face that could melt the heart of a female Terminator.
“I haven’t seen you in town in ages. Just got back. We should get together sometime and catch up.”
“Well, my schedule recently got a little more crowded so it might take some real shuffling to get the time.”
Uriah laughs and it’s like hot caramel. If only I were popcorn. Maybe if I’d seen him prior to going to the grocery store with my daddy, I’d have been less likely to stab my daddy.
“You’re still funny, Lillian James. How about tonight? I just got out of the Army and I could use a few laughs.”
What I really want to do is tell this heartthrob to go make someone else gooey, but that face. I huff. “Alright. I’d ask where, but, there’s what, two places? Fried fish or fish fried?”
“Oh, no, there’s three places now. You’ve been gone a long time. How about Tish’s Tacos?”
“Tish opened a taco place?” I frown thinking about Tish.
“People change, Lilly, people change.”
“Fine. Tish’s Tacos, but if I smell fish, I’m out.”
Uriah laughs that silky laugh and flashes that heartbreaker smile. “See ya tonight, six sharp.”
So to recap my time so far, I’ve stabbed my daddy, turned my weekender into a six month-er, and now I’ve got a something at six sharp with my high school crush. You know, Papa, I’m ta-done with my ta-do list, I think to myself as I look at the sky.
I finish the sixty-eight steps to Kettlefish, push on the door, and stand face to face with my high school nemesis, Misty Morning.
“Well, looky here, it’s Lillian Loser James.”
She drawls out loud enough every one in the bar turns my direction. I’ve got no sly comeback for her. I can barely look the woman in the eyes most of the time. She makes my brain shut down.
“Hello Misty,” I say and try to walk around her.
She sidesteps with me and keeps me from walking further into the bar. “You sure you should be drinkin’?”
I take a deep breath. Six months, Lilly, just six months and Foaming Springs will be nothing more than a bad dream. Instead of saying anything I try to sidestep again, and, of course, the she-beast stops me again.
“I think we’d all like an answer. What with your propensity to stab people.”
“Propensity? That’s a mighty big word, Misty. Did you look it up as you saw me walk in the bar?”
Her lips curl and she raises an eyebrow. “I went to college.”
Just as my brain is revving out of neutral into first gear, Fancy Coleman speaks up. “Misty, ain’t you got somewhere else to get wet? Leave Lilly alone or get.”
Misty throws a look over her shoulder and smiles. “See ya later, Lillian.” Her voice drips a noxious potion somewhere between poison and sunflowers.
“Hey Lilly,” Fancy walks from the bar and envelops me in a bear hug. “How’s my favorite nerd?”
I shrug my shoulders and let her walk me to the bar. She pushes me into a stool and walks behind the counter. Fancy slides a glass in front of me and fills it with a clear liquid. “Here, demons ain’t got no chance with that.”
“Water?”
“Rum.”
I pick up the glass and throw the drink back. It burns going down my throat, but for the first time since I arrived in town, my nerves seem to settle. “Smooth,” I choke out.
“Don’t need smooth, just gone.” Fancy smiles and pours more in my glass. She folds her arms and leans down on the bar. “Honey, you got people talkin’.”
“They were talkin’ long before I got here.”
“Yeah, but now they talkin’ ‘bout you.”
“What’s new?”
“Lilly, you always could find trouble.”
“I find trouble? Me? I fix computers. I like
Star Wars
,
Doctor Who
, and
Firefly
. Trouble seems to find me even when I’m hiding under a sofa.” My voice has gone from a hushed whisper to Bart Simpson without me realizing it. I look around, and the faces looking at me, turn away.
“Well, I guess you came out from under the sofa this time, huh? What you go and do that for anyway?” Fancy clamps a hand down on my arm.
I swallow hard. I didn’t have an answer for Chrissy and I sure don’t have one for Fancy. Even if I did, I don’t think I’d want to tell it here. “I’d need a long couch, six valiums, and more rum for that.”
Fancy lets my arm go and stands up with her arms crossed on her chest. “You need to figure it out then before it comes out uglier than you can shake a stick at.”
“What does that even mean?” I know what she means, but she doesn’t need to know that.
She locks her eyes on mine and I can tell she’s about to be serious with me. “Lilly, get to church, find Jesus, or whatever you need to do, but whatever’s going on in that head of yours, needs to be out. Keeping that kinda stuff in can make a person lose themselves.”
I keep my eyes pinned on the liquid in the glass. If the words were so easy to get out, then maybe I wouldn’t have shanked my daddy or destroyed his house. Whatever was inside me just kinda crawled out, wiggling like a worm on a rainy day, and now it was stuck on the pavement waiting for a bird to pick it off.
Fancy patted my arm when I kept quiet. “Okay, Lilly, I’ll just leave this here.” She set the bottle in front of me. “I’ll be here if you need me.” Then she sauntered off to the end of the bar to talk to Marlin, the oldest coot in town. Not my words, his.
I held the glass with two hands and slid it around on the bar in a circular motion, the rum never quite getting high enough to spill over the edges. When I stopped long enough to really think, my heart hurt, physically. Why did I stab my daddy? I couldn’t answer anyone because I didn’t know the answer.
We were in the grocery store, standing in the aisle with the pots and pans and other overpriced kitchen crap, and the next thing I know I’m standing over my daddy. I’m holding a knife, he’s bloody, and people are yelling and screaming. It was just so fast. Like, I got body snatched or something.
A familiar person slides onto the stool next to me. I throw back my second drink and stare into the empty glass.
“So, now you drink, too?” My best bud and lawyer, Bo Anderson, reaches over the bar top and grabs a glass.
“Guess so. I’ve got a list of things to do before my six months is up.”
“You need to slow down then. This town gets mighty boring when the to-do list is finished.” He laughs and pours himself a drink.
I rake a hand through my hair and rest my head in it as I look at him. “I thought you had some court thing today?” As the only lawyer in a small town, court days were few and far between unless, of course, old friends showed up, spilling blood on aisle six.
“I postponed it because the Blakely’s crops are getting beat up with all of the hail lately and they asked for my help to get it out of the fields before the next storms come through.”
“I forgot about that.”
“Yeah, you big city folks tend to forget about that kind of stuff.”
“Big city folk? I live in Austin. It’s a six-hour drive.”
“When a small city is in the rearview, it doesn’t take long to forget the little people.”
“Bo, what do you want? Did you come here to aggravate me?”
He laughed. It wasn’t like Uriah’s. Bo has a squishy laugh. It’s not like it was a bad laugh, but I like my popcorn caramelly not squishy. Plus, Bo and I did that dance right before high school got out. It turned into two left feet the moment his lips hit mine. He looked at me and I looked at him and it was over. Although, sometimes I think he was a little less certain than me.
I push my glass away and stand. “I’m going back to the hotel and packing my stuff. I’m renting that old cabin down by the woods.”
“Mrs. Thompson’s place?”
“Yeah, she’s visiting family out west and her daughter said I could rent the place while I’m here.”
“Need a ride?”
“Nah, I’ll just walk.”
“See ya, Lills.”
“Much later, Bo.”
