Chapter 6
NOELLE
She laid awake a good long time after Ciela fell asleep.
Feeling her daughter’s back rise and fall under her palm, she started to drift off.
Noelle struggled to see it as a set back.
This was the first time that her daughter had been able to speak to her, in between long, terrified wails.
Blinking, Noelle tried to clear her eyes of the tears that had fallen as soon as she realized that her daughter had fallen asleep.
The first thing she’d do in the morning was call Doctor Barr and tell her what had happened. They’d schedule an appointment as soon as the therapist could fit them in.
The last thing Noelle wanted to do was put too much time between what happened and a session.
It was hard enough for a child as young as Ciela to work through the terror she’d gone through. The more time that passed, the harder it was.
The door softly opened and Noelle looked up to see her mother, standing in the doorway.
Her mother raised her eyebrows. “ASLEEP?”
She’d mouthed the question and Noelle nodded, mouthing back, “FINALLY.”
Her mother gestured for her come out of the room, whispering softly. “Dinner’s still warm.”
Almost on cue, Noelle’s stomach started to grumble.
Wincing, she wiggled away from Ciela, trying not to shift the mattress too much.
When she reached the edge of the mattress and her feet touched the ground, she used a hand to grasp the headboard and pull herself up.
Ow. Her back and the arm that had been between her body and the mattress were aching.
So sore.
She got up and moved toward the door on tiptoe.
Just before she reached the doorway, her foot found a squeaky board in the floor.
Both women froze in place.
Her mother leaned to the side to look at the bed.
Noelle held her breath until her mother’s shoulders relaxed.
Her mother put a hand on her shoulder and tipped her head toward the door.
They walked out together and left the bedroom door open so that they could hear Ciela if she woke up.
Ever since her daughter had been born she’d kept an ear out for her daughter.
Before her husband’s death, they’d both been attentive and nervous about the baby. One or both of them getting up at night to check on her even after she’d been accustomed to sleeping through the night.
After the shooting, they’d had to deal with nightmares.
Night terrors had been the phrase that doctors had given her.
Terror was an apt description.
She’d known plenty of it since that day.
As much as Ciela had suffered and developed a fair amount of separation anxiety, for Noelle it had been much of the same.
She found herself paralyzed at times if she had to let Ciela out of her view.
If she was with her grandmother then Noelle could white-knuckle it.
But trips to the store, any store, were put on hold.
Family would volunteer to do errands and bring things to the house.
With her work, she could work from home or her mother would volunteer to watch her daughter while she was working on her art.
It kept on that way until Noelle realized that she was hurting Ciela more than helping her.
They couldn’t hide away from the world if she wanted her daughter to heal.
She had to take a chance and get out of the house and move forward and that meant making the same efforts for Ciela.
Standing in the hallway, she looked up at her mother and let out a long, shuddering sigh. “Ma?”
Her mother looked at her and the love she saw in her mother’s eyes might just have been the only thing holding her together.
“What is it, Nena?”
There was something in that moment as they stood there in the darkened hallway of their home. Her mother reached out and wrapped her in her loving embrace.
The childhood nickname that reached her ears made her feel like she was just that, her mother’s little girl all over again.
Those years of fear and suffering were still there, but they had been pushed away far enough that she could breathe.
And the pain that had settled again in her chest loosened its hold a little.
Hugging her mother back felt like a balm to her soul.
“You don’t have to bear this all on your shoulders, Nena.”
She felt her mother press a kiss to her cheek and Noelle squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m her mother, Ma.” She felt her mom rock her a little and she fought to keep herself together. “I’m mom and dad now. I’m going to do what it takes for her to move past this.”
Her mother took a step back and looked into her eyes.
“You will. You both will. It’s just going to take time.”
“I remember what you said that day… at the cemetery.” Noelle nodded. “Souls are both the strongest things in the world and the most fragile. I agree. I’ve seen it. Felt it. I didn’t know that McCrae would come to the house. And I certainly didn’t know that Ciela would react like that.”
Her mother rubbed her back as they walked into the kitchen and took their seats at the table. “That’s the worst part of this. There’s no telling what’s going to happen on a random day. She might see a picture or a sign. She might hear a word, or the sound of breaking glass.
“There’s no telling what will happen in the future.”
“Then what,” Noelle struggled to ask the question, “are we going to do to protect her from these memories? Or worse, if it’s not a memory but… a trigger that just… that sends her over the edge?”
Her mother lifted the lid to the serving dish and used a large spoon to give Noelle a good sized portion of the chicken and chorizo casserole that was still warm and steaming.
“You know the answer to that, which is that we don’t know.”
Noelle picked up a roll and added some garlic butter to it before passing it over to her mother. “It’s the problem with being human, right?” She picked up a second roll and buttered it for herself. “If we were like cars, you could just go to the parts store and fix whatever was broken.”
Noelle set the roll on her plate and her butter knife slid off of the side of her plate, making her grind her back teeth together.
“But that’s where I think what people have been telling us is wrong, Ma.” Noelle drew in a breath through her nose and slowly let it out as she pulled her thoughts together.
“I don’t think we’re broken. Or that we ever were.” She tapped her finger on the stem of her fork. “We were stretched thin. Sometimes brittle. Sometimes sagging under the weight of our grief. We were going under the assumption that we had to pass a line to be ‘better’ or ‘healed.’
“Holding her today and feeling her fight me. I think I realized that she wasn’t ‘fighting’ me… she was fighting the memory. Fighting the fear.”
Noelle looked across the table at her mother.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No more than I am.” Her mother shook her head. “There’s a certain amount of insanity that comes with being a parent. Thinking you can control the world around your children. That you can protect them from all of the dangers in the world, both emotional and physical.”
Noelle smiled at that. “You did a great job of it.”
Her mother lifted a hand to her hair. “And I ended up with more than my share of white hairs because of it.”
Noelle shook her head. “You barely have any.”
“I have a great stylist who does my color.” She fluffed up her waves. “You know that.”
“What I know, Ma, is that you’ve set a high bar as a parent.”
“I never tried to do any such thing. I just did my best to raise you into a functioning adult.”
Noelle lowered her chin and looked at her mom. “Does that include my fascination with ‘gross’ stuff?”
“Gross?” Her mother shook her head. “It’s probably the cultural connection with skulls and skeletons. People forget what a large part of our culture is connected to beliefs like Dis De Los Muertos.”
They ate in quiet for a few minutes before they heard a voice from the hallway.
“Mama? Abuelita?”
Noelle was out of her chair before she thought about it, crossing the open part of the floor to crouch down beside her daughter. “Hey, baby,” she lifted a hand and brushed the damp curls from Ciela’s face. “Are you hungry?”
Ciela nodded as she rubbed the back of one hand across her eyes. “Hungry.”
Noelle hadn’t heard the soft scrape of chair legs on the hardwood floor but she heard the sink turn on.
“I’m getting a cloth so we can wash her face and hands.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
Noelle watched her daughter’s expression carefully as the little girl hands on her shoulders. “Mama,” she sniffled, “sorry.”
“Oh, sweetie.” She gave her a smile and then took the warm towel from her mother’s hand. “No need to be sorry.”
Noelle folded the towel up and gently wiped her face. Starting with her sleepy eyes and then her other features, like her chin to wash away any drool.
Ciela shook her head, almost sticking her hair to her face again.
“I didn’t mean to yell at the man.” Her bottom lip jutted out. “I was just scared. I saw the badge.”
Noelle wrapped her arms around her baby and hugged her tight, kissing her daughter’s cheek when she leaned back.
“Honey, he knows that.” Smiling to lift her daughter’s spirits. Noelle folded the towel, flipping it over to put the used side inside, she took one hand after another, wiping it clean so she could eat.
“Come on, sweetie. The dinner Abuelita cooked for us is still warm.”
Her mother pulled out the chair that Ciela used, and Noelle helped Ciela up and into her booster seat. “Come and sit down. Time to eat.”
After she managed to put her daughter down for a second time, Noelle took a long, hot shower and slipped between her sheets to stare up at the ceiling above her head.
The fan blades cut across her field of vision giving her something to focus on instead of the rumble of thoughts in her head.
It had been weeks since Ciela’s last triggered event.
The sound of a siren passing by them on the road led to a quick pullover and lots and lots of hugs and kisses.
But this time?
It had happened so close to home.
Right on the porch.
Noelle was worried that this might lead to her daughter seeing home as something triggering.
There was no way to know until the next morning.
She let out a breath and closed her eyes, trying to settle down.
Her phone buzzed on her bedside table and she turned her head to see the alarm clock on the wall. It was a few minutes short of ten o’clock.
Noelle let out an exhale and turned on her side.
She turned her phone to face here and had to squint at the screen, reading the message pop up a second and third time before it all sank in.
(210) 555 - 6612: Noelle? This is McCrae
McCrae?
Bracing herself up on an elbow, she answered the text with one of her own.
NENA: McCrae King?
(210) 555 - 6612: Yes
The three dots appeared on the screen and she waited to see what he was typing.
It stopped.
And started again.
Just when her eyes started to drift closed, her phone pinged.
Noelle opened her eyes and saw the message on the screen.
(210) 555 - 6612: How many McCrae's do you know?
She chuckled and the phone in her hand shook so she couldn’t see the screen or type.
(210) 555 - 6612: As far as I know, my mother is the only one who saddled a kid with that name.
Saddled, she laughed softly.
What a cowboy.
She shook her head and managed to still herself enough to type.
NENA: Just you
NENA: Sorry, Half asleep
(210) 555 - 6612: Sorry, should have looked at the time
Her eyes were heavy, but she had a feeling that McCrae was upset about what happened earlier in the evening.
While they didn’t know each other well, she had a feeling that it really bothered him. She’d met his mother. She’d seen how they were together. And he’d been very careful with her while she’d been on site as his family’s property.
He might look like a hard man, but she’d seen the softer side of him.
She felt like she should try to soothe him. Maybe it might help her own unsettled feelings to talk to him about his own.
That thought-
That instinct felt right.
She lifted the phone and touched the CALL icon.
The phone rang once before it was answered.
“Noelle?”
She smiled at the question in his voice. “Who else would be calling you from my phone?”
“True ‘nuff.” He laughed on the other end of the call and then it faded away. “I’m sorry for what happened today.”
She heard the earnest tone of his voice. “Thank you.” Her body relaxed into the mattress.
Just his words helped to take away some of the stress she was still struggling with.
“I thought it would help to get you the pass in case we were called out of the office before you got there.”
“It was a nice thought, McCrae. Really. You had no idea- None of us did.”
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what he looked like at that moment. What he’d look like if they were having the conversation face to face.
His normally hard expression would be a little softer. His posture not so rigid and tense.
“Do you think… I mean, I don’t have any experience with the kind of trauma she’d been through… would it help to… to talk to her?”
She frowned, unsure of what he meant.
“I talked to her a little tonight. It was mostly to settle her down to sleep.” She was a little uncomfortable with the conversation, not because she didn’t trust him or because she was upset at him for what happened. She didn’t know what he was hoping for.
Or if that was his concern.
“I mean…”
She heard him clear his throat.
“Do you think I could talk to her?”
His words…
His words settled over her like a physical touch.
“I don’t want to hurt her. Those tears…”
She could hear anguish in his voice and she felt a measure of it herself. The feelings were welling up inside of her again.
“How can I help?”
“Help?” She probably sounded as hesitant as she felt. “I’m calling her therapist as soon as her office opens. I can call you after that- or I can text you if you don’t want to talk on-”
“Call me.”
His answer was immediate.
Well, he’d answered her before she’d even asked the full question.
“You can call me,” his voice was softer, his tone easier than a moment before. “Noelle? I’d like it if you called me.”
She smiled and a yawn started a body-long stretch.
“Sounds good.” She snuggled deeper into the mattress. “I’ll call you tomorrow as soon as I talk to Doctor Barr.”
“Good.”
She heard him exhale and it sounded like it was a relief for him.
“I’m… I’m going to look forward to your call.”
She drew her knees up and wiggled under the light blanket she used to sleep under. “‘Nite, McCrae.”
“Good night, Noelle.”
She was fairly sure that she ended the call at that moment, or maybe he did.
Either way she finally felt enough peace to fall asleep.
She hoped he did too.