Tuesday, April 19th
Ronan
I successfully convince Cat not to go back to court this morning, not to sit through the rest of the trial, and instead go back to school. She’s missed too many days already for this dumb trial, and while I can understand her desire to be there for Steve, Zack, Shane, and obviously me when I had to testify, I don’t think she should jeopardize her grades so close to the end of her senior year of high school only to listen to whatever my mom has to say.
So she gets ready for school—with a lot of distraction and interruption by me touching and kissing her—and then allows me to walk her to school. All fucking eyes are on us when I kiss her deeply before I let go of her hand and watch her walk into the building.
By the time I arrive home, my dad, Penny, and Steve have already left for court. It’s uncomfortably quiet without even the pitter-patter of Onyx’s paws on the hardwood floor. I miss my dog.
I stand in the silent house, letting it all sink in. The last days, weeks, months… I walk into the kitchen—the place where so much of the abuse took place, like it was my own personal torture dungeon—and stand there, too. Then I walk into the living room and stand some more. When I’ve done enough of that, I make myself a bowl of cereal and sit in the quiet, wondering whether my mom has taken the stand by now, if she’s telling the jury about how much of a fuckup I was, how I couldn’t just do as I was told, how I deserved to be punished for my misbehavior. This quickly causes me to lose my appetite and restlessness to rise in my chest.
As if he somehow has a sixth sense for it, Shane calls me, disrupting the anxious thoughts. Thank god for him.
“Are you pensively sitting in that damn house all alone spiraling down some rabbit hole of doom?” is the first thing out of his mouth.
I chuckle. “How ever did you figure?”
“My spidey sense was tingling.”
“That sounds weirdly inappropriate,” I say, making him laugh.
“Only because your mind is rotten. Seriously, though, are you doing alright? I didn’t get a chance to talk to you yesterday, and you didn’t look so good there at the end…”
“Yeah… or, actually, no. I’m pensively sitting all alone at home, spiraling down a rabbit hole of doom.”
He grunts. “I figured as much, which is why I’m sitting in my car outside your house waiting for your ass to walk outside so we can go work out.”
“Okay, yeah, we’re definitely in ‘inappropriate’ territory, you fucking weirdo,” I say, even though I’m so damn grateful that he is, in fact, sitting in his car outside of my house.
“Ah, don’t act like you don’t love it. Get changed and hurry the fuck up. I’m double-parked.”
I do as instructed: change clothes and get into the passenger seat of Shane’s Jeep five minutes later.
“So, no court for you today?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “I figured you’d probably need me more today,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road.
I’m quiet for a moment, so damn appreciative of my best friend who’s been by my side, unknowingly yet unwaveringly providing me with stability and support since we were kids. Next to Cat, he’s the one other person who always manages to ease my mind, like he instinctively knows what I need. “Normally I’d throw some comeback at you, but… thanks, Shay.”
***
It’s not even noon by the time Shane and I are done with our workout, and I’m utterly surprised when we pull up to my house only to see my dad’s black Tahoe parked in the driveway.
“Dad?” I call as soon as I make my way through the front door followed by Shane.
My dad emerges from the living room, Steve and Penny right behind him. “Hey.” He’s still dressed in his court clothes—slacks and a fitted navy polo—while Steve and Penny still don their clothes from earlier this morning.
“I didn’t think you guys would be home so soon,” I say, creasing my brow.
He smiles at me. “The trial is over.”
That catches me off guard. “What?”
“Rica changed her plea this morning.”
I just stand there, finding myself unable to process exactly what he’s saying. “What did she change it to?”
“She pleaded guilty to everything,” he says, his voice steady, deep, warm.
“To everything?”
“Yeah.”
This doesn’t make sense to me. “Why?” Why would she go through this whole thing, have me testify, have the prosecutor painstakingly go through the surveillance footage of the last year, only to change her plea to guilty? Unless it was just another way for her to torment me, to revictimize me.
“Because of how incredibly powerful your testimony was yesterday, Ran,” my dad says, taking another step toward me, his eyes full of emotion. “Darren told me this morning that Rica’s attorney reached out to him last night about negotiating a new deal because he had realized that Rica didn’t stand a chance in hell after you testified yesterday. But Darren wasn’t willing to give even the slightest bit, so Rica just decided to plead guilty to everything instead of the defense putting on the case today.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling uncertain. “So, now what?”
“There’s going to be a sentencing hearing in a couple of weeks. Rica’s attorney is going to argue for the lowest sentence possible. But you get a chance to say something to the judge,” my dad tells me softly, putting both hands on my shoulders.
Ugh, I really don’t want to have to go back to court. “Do I have to?” I don’t want to have to face my mother again, don’t want to reinjure myself by talking about the shit she did to me.
My dad studies me. “No,” he says. “You could write something down and have Darren read it to the judge if you’d like. But you aren’t required to do anything at all, Ran. You did your job. Hell, you did more than your job.”
“I’m going to write something,” Steve says from behind my dad, and my eyes find him. “If that’s alright with you,” he says, studying me.
I shrug. “Sure. Do what you need to do, Stevie.”
My dad exhales deeply, then pulls me into his arms. I think he’s hugged me more in the last eight months than he ever has in my entire life. “Ran, you did so well. I’m so proud of you. I…” He trails off, at a loss for words as he’s overcome by emotion. He abandons his attempt at expressing himself verbally and simply holds me against him.