Chapter 27 Laurie
Laurie
No bars. No service.
Laurie frowned at her phone for the umpteenth time that day. She had picked it up again to see if the network was back up, but still nothing.
“Do you have service?” she asked when Chris walked into the kitchen. “Mine’s been out all morning.”
“That’s because I removed you from my phone plan.”
She frowned and circled around to stand in front of him, thinking that she must have misunderstood. “You what?”
“I disconnected the line.” His expression was icy cold. “If you can’t be bothered to bring it with you, what’s the point of paying for it?”
Her mouth dropped open and she stood still for a moment, speechless.
Chris took a step closer and leaned forward, invading her space. “What’s the point of a phone if you just leave it here and take off with no notice?”
“I forgot it one time,” she said.
“Even when you do bring your phone, you just leave it sitting on a counter somewhere and I can’t get a hold of you. Why should I pay for a second line if I can’t reach you anyway?”
“Chris, you’re being unreasonable.”
“I’m being unreasonable?” He was shouting now, loud enough that Laurie reached up and surreptitiously turned off her hearing aids. She glanced at the kitchen door, hoping that Mia was too absorbed with her cartoons in the living room to hear him.
“You’re never even home anymore!” he raged. “You’re gallivanting all over the island, pouring my hard-earned money into the gas tank and burning it up. Maybe this will keep you where you belong. Here. At home. With us.”
“I’m always here!” Her eyes burned with tears that were more rage than grief.
Laurie had tried to placate him. She cooked three meals a day and kept the house clean. She only left the property to walk Mia to and from school, and she never left Hawi except for maybe once a week to visit her family.
Nothing she did seemed to matter. He had been cold and distant all summer – until she took Mia camping without his permission, and he finally exploded.
She had been grateful, in that moment, that Mia was still at school when he started shouting.
It was terrifying to see her husband lose his temper like that.
She’d apologized profusely for leaving her phone at home, but it hadn’t softened his heart in the least. All those days and nights of trying to repair things hadn’t made the slightest dent in his resentment… or his suspicions. She’d caught him going through the messages on her phone more than once.
“I need a phone,” she insisted.
“You don’t work,” he said, goading her. “We have internet here at the house.”
“What if Mia’s school tries to contact me?”
“They have my number.”
“What if you’re working down in Kona?”
“I can message you here. You’re on your computer all day anyway.” There was a strange edge to his voice, like their WiFi might be the next thing to go.
The thought of being completely cut off from the rest of the world made her go cold with fear.
“What about when I’m not at home?” she tried.
“And where do you have to go, exactly? You don’t work. I’m the one who does everything around here. I work like a dog while you’re off flitting around with God only knows who. I’m sick of it!”
She flinched away from the rage in his eyes.
Even though she wasn’t looking at him, he continued to shout.
Laurie could hear some of the noise that he was making, but it was muted.
Without her hearing aids, nothing came through loud enough to bother her…
but the way he threw his arms around, the contorted expression on his face, seeing him so out of control when he was usually so precisely controlled… that was scary.
She turned away, blocking him out entirely – and that’s when she saw her daughter.
Mia was hiding beneath the kitchen table, eyes screwed shut, hands clasped over her ears, and the sight of her daughter’s fear hit Laurie like a punch to the gut.
A memory of early childhood washed over her.
It was from when she was very young, smaller than Mia – before her hearing loss.
She remembered cowering just like that, hiding from one of her mother’s boyfriends, and she recalled with perfect clarity how the sounds of their shouting and banging landed on her like blows.
She spun to face her husband. “You’re scaring Mia.”
He kept shouting, too far gone to hear her.
Laurie stepped closer, putting her face in front of his, and spoke in a steady voice: “Stop shouting. You’re scaring our daughter.”
He grabbed a fistfull of her curls and yanked her forwards.
A sudden terror seized her. Chris had never laid hands on her like this. Not ever. But his eyes were wild now, mad beyond all reason.
Laurie bit her tongue until it bled, but she refused to cry out. She wouldn’t scare her daughter any further by voicing her own pain. Silently, she prayed that Mia’s eyes were still screwed shut, that she couldn’t see how Chris was hurting her.
His hand tightened on her hair and pulled her face close to his – too close to read his lips or understand anything that he was saying. Spit flecked her face as he continued to shout and rage.
Her scalp burned, but the fear was so much worse. And, even deeper than fear, the humiliation. What had she done to deserve this? How had they gotten here?
How had she let things get to this point?
Knowing that Mia was witnessing the whole ordeal shredded her soul.
Chris released her so suddenly that she fell back against the table. Mia wrapped her arms around Laurie’s legs, and she felt her daughter’s body shaking with sobs.
“Please.” Laurie’s throat felt ragged. Her cheeks were wet with tears, even though she couldn’t remember crying. “You’re scaring her.”
She caught a flash of horror in her husband’s eyes before he turned and left the room.
Laurie collapsed to the kitchen floor and pulled Mia into her lap.
Her little girl sobbed and sobbed, her body wracked with tears.
“It’s okay,” Laurie murmured, rocking her back and forth. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
She had no idea how long they sat there together on the cold kitchen tile. Eventually, Mia’s sobs quieted. Laurie reached up to grab a napkin from the table and used it to dry their faces.
When she tried to stand, Mia’s grip tightened again in a sudden panic.
“I need to stand up,” she told her daughter, hoping that her voice was calm. “You can hold my hand.”
Together, they tiptoed through the house and peered out the living room window.
The van was gone.
Laurie slumped with relief.
Mia tapped her shoulder, and she looked down at her.
“Why was he so mad?” she asked, brown eyes wide behind her glasses. She signed the question one-handed, refusing to let go of Laurie with her other hand.
Laurie didn’t have an answer for her.
Don’t know, she signed haltingly. Sorry.
Suddenly, Mia’s expression was angry.
“What are you sorry for?” she demanded. “You didn’t do anything!”
Laurie nodded in acknowledgement, but her daughter’s words did nothing to shift the guilt that she carried.
How did we get here? she wondered for the upteenth time. Where did I go wrong?
She walked into the master bedroom with Mia still clinging to her. Once there, she opened her laptop and messaged the three sisters who were still in Hawaii.
We need someone to come get us. ASAP.
Laurie! Anne was the first to reply. We’ve been trying to get a hold of you. What’s going on? Are you okay??
No, she responded. It was all she could manage, that small admission.
I’m on my way, said Halia.
No, Oakley texted. I’m closer. Trent’s home with the girls. I’m leaving now.
Laurie folded forward on the bed and sobbed.
She felt wretched for venting her misery in front of Mia, but she couldn’t contain it anymore. Staying strong in the face of anger and cruelty was one thing, but her sisters’ immediate support had pushed her over the edge. Somehow, her gratitude undid her more easily than her grief.
Within a couple of minutes, she’d pulled herself together.
It would take Oakley about half an hour to get there.
Thirty minutes to pack up her whole life.
Laurie got to work, all the while praying that Chris didn’t return before they were safely out the door. Future worries – divorce, finances, custody battles – hovered on the periphery of her mind, but she denied them entrance. Her focus for the moment was on practicalities.
It took less than half an hour to pack up everything that they needed. Her clothes and her daughter’s. A bag of Mia’s favorite books and toys. Her laptop.
Mia stayed glued to her side the whole time, but she didn’t speak – not even with her hands. Not even to ask where they were going.
When their bags were packed, Laurie went to her bookshelves. She stood in front of the library she’d amassed over the years, considering – but in that moment, her most treasured possessions felt utterly unimportant.
What if he came home while she was loading boxes of books into Oakley’s car?
It didn’t bear thinking about.
She grabbed an album that held all of her favorite photos of Mia and pulled it down from the shelf. That was it. That’s all she took.
She could come back for the rest later, or not.
He could burn them for all she cared.
All of her books, even the most treasured, were replaceable. She wasn’t.
And so she turned her back on the bookcase and walked out onto the front porch to wait beside their bags. As soon as she sat down, Mia crawled into her lap.
They had only been there for a minute when Oakley’s car came peeling up the drive.
Laurie gently pushed Mia out of her lap and grabbed the two heaviest bags. Mia put on her backpack and held her favorite stuffie tight with both arms.
What happened? Oakley signed as she hurried over.
Laurie just shook her head and walked to the back of the car. Oakley opened the trunk, and they put their bags inside.
She opened the door and gestured for Mia to get into the car. But when she tried to get in with her, Oakley intercepted her and took her face between her hands.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, examining her like she was looking for bruises.