The Good Sister (28 page)

“That you slept with me?”

He paused and frowned. “No. Of course not! I’d never tell anyone that.”

She tilted her head back and a laugh bubbled up her throat. “My God, you take sex so seriously. I was kidding, Noah. Ha-ha!”

He smiled and tugged her hair as he held her head back. “Yeah, well, Lindsey how often did you ever kid around? It might take me a few times to get used to your attempts to be funny. Though, you’re not very good at it yet. Keep practicing.”

She socked him in the arm and stared at her fist after doing so. She looked up, startled.
Crap.
She didn’t mean to mimic Elliot that way. It wasn’t funny. She knew it wasn’t. He grabbed her fist in his hand and rubbed it with his thumb. “It’s okay, Lindsey. It’s okay to tease. To playfully hit me. It’s okay and what normal people do. They tease. They play. They comfort each other afterwards.”

She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. “It’s been such a long time.” She shook her head. “Anyway, yes you can tell your family. You can tell whomever you like to help you deal with it. And what I’ve put you through. It’s too much to ask of anyone, let alone, someone you didn’t even have a relationship with.”

“I have a relationship with you.” His tone was firm and quiet.

“I can’t—”

“You can count on me as your friend. As someone who cares. That makes us in a relationship.”

She exhaled. “Okay. I’ll consider that we have a relationship.”

He touched her shoulder. “Did Gretchen talk to you?”

“Yes. You mean, about what’s happening next? Yes.”

“It’s a start. I hope it works for you. She knows what it’s all about.”

“She does. And she’s safe. Yes, you’re right; it’s a start.”

He pressed his lips together and said softly, “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll be grateful to be done with this whole mess.”

He shook his head. “I’m not done, Lindsey. Not by a long shot. I’m just going home for a little while.”

Steeling her resolve, Lindsey picked up the phone and dialed her sister’s number. Jessie answered on the first ring, as if she’d been sitting on the phone.

“Lindsey?”

A strangled, strange laugh escaped Lindsey’s mouth. “Is that how you answer your phone now?”

“Yes. It is. Waiting for my stupid sister to let me know if she’s alive or dead.”

“What were you doing? Sitting on it?”

“Yes.  There isn’t much else to do while nursing a baby.” A long pause followed. Jessie blew out a deep sigh. “Oh, God. It’s you. It’s really you.”

She started to cry. So did Lindsey as she gripped the receiver tighter. Her throat felt raw when she finally found the ability to speak. “I couldn’t face talking to you until now.”

“I know. I know, Lindsey. Don’t waste your breath.
I
know.
I know it in ways most people could never understand
.
”

“I should have told you years ago.”

“I should have guessed it years ago.”

“No, it was all on me. It was my secret to tell. As well as get away from.”

“As it was mine with the general. Let’s not beat a dead horse. We’ve both been there, and done that. Those assholes did it to us, and no more will we take the blame.”

“Aren’t you curious why I let it go on?”

“For the same reason I did. Shame. Fear. Embarrassment. Scorn. Self-loathing. Jesus, I used to cut my flesh over it. I think I know why you kept it to yourself.”

“But for all those reasons, I should have at least been able to tell you. But the words, they always stuck in my throat. And… Elliot made such a convincing case of what he would do if I ever tried to leave. The thing is: he still could! He could still do those things to me! Yet, strangely enough, I don’t care. Can you believe it? I don’t care, Jessie! Not because I want to die or anything, but because I no longer fear what he will do to me. Not anymore.”

“That’s because once you’re free, you realize your abuser doesn’t have the power he pretended to. Not without you. When you’re there, under his abuse, you think he rules the world. But it’s no more than an over inflated delusion of omnipotence. I get it now. I provided it for the general. You provided it for Elliot.”

“I’m sorry for everything. For not telling you and for leaving Washington with Elliot. For not being there with you when your daughter was finally born. And for not even calling you. I’m so, so sorry.”

“You know what? I’m sorry we both found crappy people that hurt us. But no fucking more can we be sorry for getting abused, Lindsey. We didn’t do it. They did it. Say it. Now.
No fucking more.”

She smiled at Jessie’s insistence. “I don’t swear much. Except in my head. I’d constantly call him nasty, dirty names. Words that I would never, ever dare to let out of my mouth.”

“Then say it, now. No fucking more.”

“No fucking more.”

“Now, say it like you mean it. Like he’s right there in your face and you want to spit on him. Hit him. Kick him. Now scream it. Say it, Lindsey, like you would to his face.
No fucking more
.”

As Jessie talked, Lindsey shut her eyes and imagined Elliot hovering over her, kicking her, hitting her, holding her down, laughing at her, calling her names. She imagined every awful thing he’d ever done to her and her repressed anger started to boil and brew in her gut and her heart, until it was climbing up her throat. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as rage clouded her mind.  She didn’t scream it; she whispered it; she chanted it. Over and over and over again.
No fucking more. No fucking more. No fucking more.

The words reminded her of Noah’s,
it's not your fault.

Jessie started crying again too. “I need to be there with you.”

“No, you can’t. I’m sorry. I need to be here. With Gretchen. With someone who knows what to say to me and doesn’t love me quite as much as you do. I need to be anonymous for a while. I need to figure everything out, Jessie. I’ve never figured myself out. What I am beyond all this is a mystery to me. I never figured out who Lindsey is. Not Lindsey Bains, not Lindsey Johanson, but just Lindsey.”

Jessie blew out a long breath that sounded through the phone. “I like hearing that. I wish I could be there. But I get it.”

She touched her hair. “I closed my eyes and took a pair of scissors and cut six inches off my hair.”

Jessie was silent before she laughed. “You cut your hair? You’ve never had short hair.”

“I cut it all off. It looks like shit. Complete and utter shit.” She licked her lips, noticing how odd it felt to swear. It was such a taboo and previously denied to her. Elliot would not tolerate any women swearing in his presence. It was vulgar and completely unacceptable to him.

“Use Noah’s phone and email me a picture of you. I need to see it. I need to see you.”

She paused. “I guess Noah told you how I looked when he found me.”

“Yes. He did. But we’ll discuss that later, Lindsey. We don’t have to go through it all at once.”

Pieces. Let pieces of it dribble in on its own time. Gretchen’s words resonated with her. As did Jessie’s. It was too big, and too much to let in all at once. It made her limbs grow heavy and feel thicker. It was way too much for any one moment.

“I had sex with Noah last night.”

“What!?”

Lindsey had to hold the phone out almost a foot after Jessie’s screech and litany of curses. Finally, she calmed down enough that Lindsey could handle putting it back to her ear.

“I’ll kill him. What the fuck was he thinking?”

“Do you realize you talk worse than a truck driver?”

“It’s part of my girlish charm. Now, where is he?”

“He’s gone. He’s on his way back over there. But, leave him alone. He… saved me. My life. My sanity. My physical body. So, no, you best leave him alone.”

“He had sex with you and just left?”

Lindsey sat down on the sofa and looked out the window. There were people playing Frisbee in the park below her. She watched the small specks of noisy kids, running and playing on the swings and climbing the jungle gym. She saw the trees gently swaying in the breeze. “He changed the entire course of my life.”

“Oh,” Jessie said finally.

“Yeah, oh. I only ever had sex with Elliot. You know that, Jessie. The first time wasn’t very good. And it did nothing but get
much worse.”

Jessie’s sharp intake of air told Lindsey she realized.  “He forced you to have sex.”

Lindsey hesitated. No. It wasn’t anything like what Jessie went through. It was very different. It was…

She closed her eyes and nodded as if Jessie were watching her. “He did. Elliot often raped me.”

“And Noah?”

“Noah showed me what sex could be like with someone you love.”

“So, I guess I’m not killing him anytime soon?”

She smiled. “No. No time soon.”

“I really miss you.”

“I really miss you too. Now, can you tell me everything about my new niece? Can you send me pictures? Send them to Gretchen. When I get a phone, I’ll call you. Tell me everything. Every detail of the birth and what happened this week. What’s Will like as a father? What is Christina doing right now? And most importantly, how are
you,
Jessie? How is my little sister?”

“Are you comfortable?”

“For the moment, I am.”

“Okay, then have I got a story for you! It all began here at home. I had labor pains and Will started running around and grabbing things to go to the hospital. He had everything packed for three months, but forgot where he put it in the confusion of the moment. If he was ever like that when leading troops into war, we’re awfully lucky he managed to return to us…”

Lindsey was labeled “the good sister” from the time she was a young girl. It started early on. The rift between Jessie and her went back a long time and was deeply imbued. Her father easily bestowed all of his compliments on Lindsey, while ridiculing, picking on and criticizing Jessie. When their mother was still alive, she often intervened on Jessie’s behalf. But after she died, there was no one left to protect her. And Lindsey certainly chose not to fill that role.

They both attended private schools with prim, proper uniforms. By the time Lindsey left for college, she had not one original thought or action in her whole life. Jessie, on the other hand, was brainwashed to hate herself. The first mistake either of them made was just by being born girls. Travis Bains always wanted a son. He practically broadcasted that until it was well known. Consequently, Lindsey did everything she could to please him, always trying to appease his demand for perfection and make him proud. It didn’t matter that she was a girl as long as she could attain his approval. She got straight As in school and took up archery as an extracurricular activity. By the time she was eighteen years old, she had already won several state titles. She had no hesitation in attending college before she enlisted in the Army, as her father always wished the son he never had would do.

After becoming Elliot’s wife, he dressed her in a wardrobe that cost thousands. He had a personal shopper choose all her clothing, although he had the final say.  He either approved or disapproved and she dressed as he said, did as he said, went where he said, and became who he said she should be.

And now, today, she suddenly felt liberated and could be anyone she chose.

She got off the couch after the long, emotional, come-to-Jesus talk with her sister. She ruined her hair and wanted some new clothes. She had Will’s permission and credit card to get whatever she needed. He and Gretchen promised to cover her expenses until she got back on her feet. Will took the phone from Jessie to specifically tell her that. He didn’t ask any questions about what went on. He just said not to worry about any expenses.

Her biggest problem was having no idea how to shop for herself anymore. She didn’t know what she liked, or what was considered fashionable. She couldn’t comprehend being able simply to walk out the front door and do whatever she wanted. She didn’t know how to begin her life with such a new viewpoint. She sighed, then turned and headed down the hallway to the bedroom that Gretchen was letting her use.

When she walked into the condo at sunset, Gretchen jumped up from where she was working on her laptop before her shoulders dropped with relief. Lindsey knew it might be a while before everyone calmed down and believed she was truly committed to going under cover.

Gretchen stopped dead, and stared, her mouth agape. “So, this is who you think you are? This is the real Lindsey?”

Lindsey shrugged. “It’s taken me a week to decide. I had to do something after hacking my hair off. So I did this. I’ve no idea whether or not I like it. It seemed like the thing to do, being as far opposite of who I formerly was with Elliot. Yes, it’s probably a bit strong, perhaps even ridiculous; and my choice will probably be something I’ll cringe over eventually. But right now, it feels perfect. Do I look utterly ridiculous?”

Gretchen’s eyebrows went up. “No. Just the opposite. You look awesome! I just, didn’t expect anything like this from you. And so soon! No offense, Lindsey, but you used to dress like a president’s wife, and not in a ‘Jackie O’ kind of way.”

Lindsey ran a hand through her hair. It felt… weird. Like really, really weird. Not just because it wasn’t long anymore. Now, it was barely two inches and the base color was brown, but highlighted throughout with purple. It was spiked and short. A very weird style. Her makeup wasn’t pretty and natural, but very much
there.
As in, dark and bold. The “smoky eye” on her was nearly black around her eyes. Her lipstick was that blackish shade of maroon she usually associated with girls who wanted to be vampires. She went directly from looking much older than her real damn age, to looking like a rebellious twenty-two-year-old punk.

Well, wasn’t she rebelling, after all? A rebellion almost thirty years in the making. She never once took a chance. Or a risk. Or was ever asked to.

She went to a thrift store and bought some faded, ripped up jeans. She wore a tank top and an old, very worn leather jacket. If Elliot, or her father, or even Jessie, passed her looking the way she was today, they would never have known it was Lindsey. Maybe that was the point.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look hot. Like bad-ass hot.”

“I’ve decided to go by the name, Lindsey Coal. It was my mother’s maiden name. Yes, I know it might be obvious to Elliot what name I’d use. But I need to use something. No more Bains. No more Johanson. I can’t make it legal of course, but hell, for now, it’s enough for me.”

She noticed Gretchen watching her closely and sighed. “I know Gretchen. I know I’m going off the deep end. I’m reacting to everything that was done to me. To my feelings. But… I don’t want to lie in bed, all catatonic and too depressed to bother trying to help myself. I don’t know how to help myself. I just know I want to start. And so, please just allow me to be crazy for a while. And maybe go off the deep end. I just don’t want to lie in bed any longer. Okay?”

Gretchen cleared her throat, as a long, slow smile brightened her face. “You are a surprise to me, Lindsey Coal. I thought I’d be the one coaxing you to get out of bed, at least for a few more weeks.”

“You might still be. I might crash and burn. I just have to not be the same Lindsey I was.”

“Okay.”

“I applied for a job.”

“Y—You did? How? Where? Jesus, Linds! Are you sure you’re ready for all that?”

“No. But yeah. I applied for a job down the street at that little café. I made up a phony name. If they do a background check on me, they’ll see I exist nowhere. So it probably won’t work out anyway. But at least, I tried.”

“A job as what?”

“Waitress.”

“As… a waitress? Are you sure?”

“Quite.”

Gretchen eyed her, no doubt, trying to figure out the psychology as to why Lindsey would take such a menial job. There was no indication before then that she intended to do such a thing.

“Have you called Janice yet?”

Janice Hensley worked with Gretchen at the battered women’s clinic. She was a therapist who often consulted domestic abuse victims. Lindsey didn’t want to be considered that right now. Not yet. Maybe never. “No. Is that a requirement for me living here?” She dared Gretchen to say so. Her mood was rather pissy of late and she sometimes, rather unfairly, took it out on Gretchen.

“No. Of course not.” Gretchen backed down. Lindsey sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve it. I can’t control my bitchiness lately.”

Gretchen laughed. “You don’t have to; that’s why you do it probably. So go ahead and do it sometimes. I’m a big girl. You can’t hurt my feelings that easily.”

“I’ll call Janice. I probably need counseling, huh? I mean that’s the obvious thing to do, right?”

“Yes. But the stuff you
are
doing might be the obvious stuff you also need to do. You’re angry. Use it. Live it. And fight with it.”

She was angry? She’d never allowed herself to be angry or confrontational in her entire life. She was quiet, obedient, and good. She went along with the program. She never tried to rebel or stir the pot. She was not an irate, rude, strange-looking woman.

But… suddenly, she was exactly that. And she felt more comfortable in her skin now, than she ever had before in her entire life.