Ansley stood in the hall outside of Grace’s room, crying. Darlene pushed past her younger daughter and into the room, Brad on her heels. Chad was sitting beside Grace on the bed, and Darlene knelt down in front of her.
“Gracie, baby?” Darlene’s mouth moved, but hardly any sound came out as she eyed the blood on Grace’s powder blue shirt. Her baby girl’s hands were covered in blood. Tears were streaming down both her cheeks. Darlene looked down and saw the gashes on the inside of Grace’s thighs, slightly below her white shorts, which were also splattered bright red.
“Who did this to you?” She grasped Grace’s shoulders. “Tell me!”
“Oh, dear Lord in heaven,” Brad said as he pulled Chad out of the way and sat down beside Grace. “Gracie, baby girl. What happened? Who did this?”
Darlene didn’t take her eyes from Grace as she told Ansley to hurry and get some wet cloths. “What happened?” She glanced back and forth between Grace and Chad. Grace couldn’t catch her breath, so she turned to Chad, who was also crying.
“She—she did this to herself, Mom.” Chad swiped at his eyes.
“What?” Brad glared at his son, then looked back at Grace.
Darlene touched Brad on the leg. She could feel him trembling. When Ansley walked back into the room carrying a wet rag, Darlene asked everyone to leave. Brad started to argue, but he finally took Ansley and Chad by the shoulders, and they all went downstairs.
Darlene took a deep breath as she sat beside Grace on the bed and began to clean her wounds. She silently prayed and thanked God that Grace’s wounds weren’t deeper. She might have scars, but she didn’t need stitches. She left once to get antibiotic ointment, and when she returned, Grace was still crying just as hard as when she and Brad had first walked in. Grace just kept sobbing and saying how sorry she was, over and over again.
“It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.” Darlene was repeating herself too, but she didn’t know what else to say. Her main focus was on comforting Grace, even though her mind was spinning. Why would her beautiful daughter do this to herself?
Four fresh cuts ran along the inside of Grace’s thighs, and on the top of her legs, smaller wounds were scabbing over, making it heartbreakingly clear that this was not the first time Grace had done this to herself.
After she finished applying the antibiotic cream, Darlene couldn’t control the flood of tears that poured down her cheeks. “Why, baby? What made you do this?” She blotted her eyes, thinking maybe she should have let Brad handle this. But she couldn’t bear to leave Grace yet. Grace was so hysterical. She just kept shaking her head and apologizing. Darlene felt helpless.
After a while, she convinced Grace to lie down, and Darlene stayed with her until she fell asleep. She stared at her daughter, unsure of what to do. Where to go? Who to call? Why had Grace done this? Darlene felt like she might vomit.
Brad eased the door open, his eyes bloodshot. Darlene put a finger to her lips. “She’s sleeping,” she mouthed.
Brad motioned for her to come out into the hall.
“Chad said he knew she’d done this once before, but never this bad.”
“What?” Darlene lowered her eyelids as more tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Why didn’t he tell us?”
“I’ve already torn into him, Dar. He was just trying to keep a promise to Grace to not tell.”
“Keep a promise?” She hung her head and started to cry again, then whispered, “Why would Grace try to kill herself, Brad? Why? Why?” She fell into his arms, muffling her cries against his chest, gripping his white shirt until her knuckles throbbed. She’d never felt like more of a failure in her entire life. Forcing herself away from him, she stared into his eyes. “What do we do?”
She needed him to be in charge. Darlene didn’t have the strength. But when he just shrugged and shook his head, Darlene spoke up. “We need to call someone. A counselor, a psychiatrist, someone like that.” She dabbed at her eyes, knowing she needed to pull it together. For Grace’s sake.
Brad shook his head right away. “No. Let’s talk to her more after she’s slept. I don’t think we need to involve anyone else.” He paused. “It’s a small town. Everyone would hear about this.”
“I don’t care!” she fired back in a loud whisper.
“Well, I bet Grace would care.” Brad’s tone was equally as defensive. “I doubt she wants her friends at school to know about this.” He held up a finger at Darlene, the way he often did with the kids. “Just wait. Don’t do anything yet.” Darlene pushed his finger away, brushed past him, and darted down the stairs two at a time.
She was in front of Chad in a matter of seconds. “How dare you know something like this and not tell us.”
Chad sniffled but held his chin high. Ansley was crying, and Darlene could hear Brad coming down the stairs. “Ansley, go upstairs and sit with your sister until I come get you.”
Ansley nodded but was crying too hard to speak. Darlene turned to Chad again. “Tell us what is going on. Grace has done this before?”
Brad put a hand on Darlene’s shoulder. “Ease up, Dar.”
She spun around with the fury of a woman whose child was in danger. “Don’t tell me to ease up.” She turned back to Chad. “Tell us.”
Chad’s face was blotchy and wet. He wiped his nose with his hand. “I only know of one time.”
“Don’t you think that’s one time too many?” Darlene’s voice rose an octave as a tear rolled down her cheek. “When?”
Chad’s voice squeaked. “Not that long ago, and she promised it was the only time and that she’d never do it again . . . I’m sorry, Mom.” Chad’s bottom lip quivered as he blinked back tears.
Brad stepped up beside Darlene. “It’s okay, son. Go up to your room.” Once Chad was upstairs, he turned to Darlene. “This isn’t his fault.”
She faced off with him, her insides feeling like a volcano about to erupt. “I didn’t say it was his fault.” She hung her head, then looked back up at him. “I just need some answers, Brad. I don’t understand why our beautiful little girl would cut herself up like that. Why would she do that?”
Brad put a hand on his hip. “She’s not trying to kill herself. She would have slit her wrists if she were planning that. I know a guy—”
Darlene didn’t hear the rest. She recalled the razor blades that Brad had found in Grace’s room. “Oh, Brad. That’s what she was planning then. The razor blades.” Darlene started to cry again.
“Honey . . .” Brad rubbed his forehead for a few moments. “Did you hear what I said? I know a guy at work whose daughter did this. Grace was not trying to kill herself, but something is definitely wrong if she’s cutting herself.”
“What’s wrong?”
He raised his shoulders and dropped them slowly. “I don’t know. But according to Paul, his daughter did that for a while, and then she just stopped. Some kids think it’s cool to try.”
“Brad, Grace doesn’t look like a teenager who tried something cool and decided it wasn’t for her. Clearly she’s done this before, and she’s hysterical!”
“Well, you’re hysterical too! Maybe you need to calm down to be able to help your daughter.”
Darlene was sure her blood was beyond boiling, but she knew Brad was right. She took a deep breath, held it for a while, and blew it out slowly. “I think we need to find someone for Grace to talk to.”
“You and Grace are close. You should be the one to talk to her after you’ve both calmed down.” He reached out to her, but she backed away.
Brad threw up his hands. “Okay, Darlene.”
She put her hands on her hips. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t you think we need to work through this together?”
Darlene grunted. “Uh, usually I take care of things while you’re at work.”
Brad hung his head, shook it, then looked back up at her. “I’m going to let that go because I know you’re upset. We’ve always worked through everything together where the kids were concerned.”
Not true. She glared at him. “I’m going upstairs to be with Grace.”
She wasn’t even to the staircase when she heard Brad mumble, “Maybe if you’d been here, not working . . .”
She stopped dead in her tracks.
“I’m sorry, Dar. I didn’t mean that.”
She could hear Brad coming up behind her, but the damage was done. She bolted up the stairs two at a time.
Grace woke up, and it took her a few seconds to decipher why her mother was lying next to her on the bed, facing her, but with her eyes closed. It was dark outside, her room lit only by the Tinkerbell night-light she’d gotten when she was four. Then everything came rushing back to her, and panic took over. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like someone was choking her, like an elephant was on her chest. “Mom,” she managed to whisper.
“I’m here, baby.” Her mother jerked up, then wrapped an arm around her.
“I can’t breathe. I’m sorry. I can’t breathe.” As the memories of earlier flashed in her mind, she didn’t know how she was going to survive this. Her parents would never get over this, and neither would she. Stupid, stupid, stupid me.
Her mother pushed the strands of tangled hair from her face. “Everything is going to be all right, Gracie.” Mom kissed her on the forehead and pulled her closer. “Take a deep breath. Mommy is here. You’re going to be okay.” She kissed her again.
Trembling, she tried to do as her mother said, but the air in her lungs spewed forth in shallow gasps mixed with sobs. Mom tightened her hold and rocked back and forth. After a few minutes, Grace felt less panicked. Mom eased her away.
“Grace . . .” Her mother smiled, despite her red, swollen eyes. “You listen to me.” Her voice was firm, but soft and comforting. “There is nothing this family can’t get through.” She paused, brushed a hand through Grace’s hair again. “But, honey, can you tell me what made you do this?”
Grace shrugged, knowing she couldn’t tell her mother her true feelings. She’d never understand how one pain could so completely override a larger pain, give comfort despite the hurt. “Some girls at school used to do it,” she finally said. “And I know it’s wrong, Mom. I’m never going to do it again.”
Her mother kept her gaze fixed on Grace, and it was hard to tell if Mom was buying it.
“Do you want to talk to someone about this?”
Grace’s heart leapt in her chest. “No. You mean like a psychiatrist?” She shook her head. “No, Mom. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’ll just stop. I promise.” Her eyes began to fill at the thought of having to lie down on a couch in a shrink’s office.
“Okay, baby. We’ll see.” Her mother kissed her on the forehead again, then stood up. “Are you hungry? I think we both missed your father’s pot roast.”
Grace had heard everyone fighting downstairs earlier, and she didn’t want to face anyone right now. And she didn’t want to eat. “I’m not hungry.”
Mom tilted her head to the side like she did sometimes when she was thinking. “Well, I’m going to bring you something up here, in case you change your mind.” She blinked back tears, and Grace felt ashamed. “Grace . . . we’re going to get through this. God will get us through this, okay?”
“There’s nothing to get through, Mom. Really. I tried something I shouldn’t have, and I didn’t like it.” Please, God, forgive me. Help me.
“Grace, this wasn’t the first time, though, and—”
“I know, Mom. I know.” Grace slapped her hands to her knees as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, cringing from the pain of her fresh wounds. “I messed up! I shouldn’t have done it. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” The tears came full force, and Grace knew she shouldn’t talk to her mother like that. But Mom had a way of pushing until she heard what she wanted to hear. Didn’t Grace just assure her that it wouldn’t happen again?
“Okay, baby.” Mom held up one hand as her own eyes welled with tears. “We can talk more later.”
Great.
“Do you want me to stay up here with you tonight?”
“No.” She sniffled, wishing more than anything that her mother would just leave. “I just want to be alone.”
“Okay.”
Her mother had almost closed the door behind her when she peeked her head back in. “Grace?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Skylar didn’t have anything to do with you doing this, did she?”
“No, Mom.” She rolled her eyes. If you only knew what a good person Skylar is. Grace thought about the way she’d treated Skylar. And felt another wave of self-hatred.
“Okay.” Her mother paused, tears in her eyes. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“With all your heart.” Grace choked the words out. And I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.
Mom blew her a kiss. “Yes, with all my heart. No matter what.”
Please just go, Mom.
Brad spit mouthwash into the sink, then stared at himself in the mirror. Lord, why is this happening?
He’d waited years to make partner. It should have been a day to celebrate. Instead, a war of emotions raged within him at the realization that he and Darlene had somehow failed one of their children. He pulled a white T-shirt over his head as he searched his mind for clues as to why Grace would harm herself like this. She was the middle child. Did she not get enough attention?
He walked to the bed, sat down, and tried to think. They’d never had any problems with Grace. The door to the bedroom opened. A tense, drawn face greeted him, and Brad swallowed hard.
“How is she?”
Darlene’s bottom lip quivered as she stood in the middle of the bedroom. “I don’t know. She said it was just something she tried and that she’d never do it again.” She sat down in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, her fingers tensed in her lap. “But I think there’s more to it than that. She needs to talk to someone, Brad. A professional.”
Brad rubbed his forehead, sighed. “She said she’d never do it again, Darlene.” He locked eyes with his wife. “Maybe we just need to trust her.” His fears matched his wife’s, but he didn’t want his daughter’s reputation ruined in this small town if there wasn’t going to be another incident. Being a teenager was hard enough without the added label of “mentally ill.” “The minute she steps foot into a shrink’s office, this whole town will know about it.”
“I really don’t care.” Darlene’s lips barely moved as she spoke. “I’m only concerned with our daughter’s well-being.”
“Like I’m not?” Brad stood up and walked toward her. “I’m just as worried as you are, but I don’t want us doing anything rash either. We need to think about this.” He put a hand on his hip. “Let’s just sleep on it, and we can talk tomorrow.”
“I’m calling someone tomorrow.” Darlene stood up, brushed past him, and went into the bathroom. Brad followed.
“So you’re just going to make that decision on your own? Did you even ask Grace what she thought? We’re not in Houston. You know how everything is public knowledge around here. The local psychologist is probably a classmate’s father, uncle, or grandfather.”
Darlene turned to look at him through the doorway of the bathroom. “Brad, our daughter is in trouble. She’s not old enough to make decisions about what is best for her. We’re her parents. That’s our job!”
“Yelling isn’t going to help.” Although Brad felt like hollering at the top of his lungs too.
“Well, neither is pretending that it didn’t happen.” Darlene threw her hands up in the air. “Brad, she’s got cuts all over her legs, and I’m sure those scars on her arms aren’t from barbwire. She’s already lied to us. Do you want her to hurt herself again?” Tears started to pour down Darlene’s face. “Our beautiful Grace. Why would she do this to herself?” She raised her head and dabbed at her eyes.
Brad couldn’t keep the tears from forming in his eyes again. There was a long, brittle silence before Darlene spoke again.
“And since this is my fault for not being here to supervise my children, I will handle it.”
Brad hung his head, shook it. He was surprised it took her this long to bring up his comment. “Dar, I shouldn’t have said that. And they are our children. We’ll handle it together. We don’t need to be fighting about it, we just need—”
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about quitting my job. I’m going to give notice tomorrow.”
“Don’t do that because of what I said.”
“I’m not.” She turned toward the sink and turned the water on. “I need to be home for my children.”
Brad knew this was a direct repercussion of his earlier comment, her attempt to lash out at him. Didn’t she realize he was hurting too? “Whatever. Quit then.” He turned to head back to the bed, his head splitting and his heart filled with worry about Grace.
“Yeah, whatever,” she said, slamming the bathroom door.
He crawled into bed.
Congratulations to me for a long-awaited, well-deserved promotion.
It was possibly the most selfish thought he’d ever had, but it had surfaced just the same.
Darlene leaned her head all the way down to the sink and let the tears fall again, hoping the running water would drown out her sobs. Brad wouldn’t have made the comment if he didn’t at least believe it to be partly true. Maybe if she’d been home, she would have noticed a change in Grace, possibly prevented this from happening.
Even though she felt bitter about having to quit her job, losing her independence, and leaving the students—especially Cara—her own kids were more important. And Grace needed her.
She washed her face and brushed her teeth, all the while thinking about how hard it was going to be to give notice to Myrna. But the vision of Grace’s legs, the blood on the bed, in her lap, on her clothes . . . Darlene shivered.
As she climbed into bed, she stayed far on her side. This wasn’t Brad’s fault. She wasn’t sure if it was her fault. But one thing she knew for sure, she needed to find out more about this cutting and get Grace some help. No matter what Brad thought.
At breakfast, no one said much, and Brad left early for work. Grace almost acted like nothing had happened, and she seemed to be trying to lift everyone’s spirits. She joked with Chad, who didn’t react much. And she offered to take Ansley shopping on the square in Round Top later that afternoon. It was unusual for all the kids to be up so early during summer break, but they’d been waiting to watch the space shuttle on television this morning. Darlene was glad to see that Grace had gotten up for it.
She’d already instructed Chad to keep an eye on Grace, thankful that he didn’t have to work today, and even though her insides churned, she knew she had a responsibility to go to work. But maybe Brad was right. Maybe Grace was just trying something out, and it would never happen again. Her intuition told her otherwise, though.
Chad reached for the last cinnamon roll, and Darlene blew them all a kiss. “See you tonight.” She glanced at her son. “Call me if you need me.” He nodded, and with much anxiety, Darlene left for work.
Myrna took the news much better than Darlene expected, probably because Darlene had told her the truth about Grace, despite Brad’s worries. Myrna also gave her the name of a psychologist who specialized in “these types of troubles,” as Myrna had called it. Darlene had offered to give two weeks’ notice, but Myrna told her that she would combine her granddaughter’s one-on-one study with Cara’s until she could find Darlene’s replacement, insisting that Darlene needed to stay close to Grace and get her some counseling.
When she’d voiced her concerns about the children at the school, especially Cara, Myrna said that God would guide them all. At the mention of God, Darlene realized that she hadn’t said any prayers last night, for the first time in as long as she could remember. Too much on her mind with Grace, but she knew that Grace’s situation was even more reason to reach out to God for guidance.
Myrna thought it best not to say anything to Cara or Dave today, although Darlene felt terrible that she’d just stop coming after today, never showing up to teach again. When Dave showed up at five o’clock to pick up Cara, Darlene could hardly look him in the eyes.
“Glad it was another good day,” Dave said after Darlene gave him a report on Cara’s accomplishments for the day. He offered a weak smile, and Darlene thought again about how Dave had opened up at the gala, then shut down afterward. Sometimes she still wondered what she’d done to cause him to run cold again. Not that it mattered, she supposed. Today was her last day. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” He reached for Cara’s hand, and together they left the classroom.
Darlene’s whole body felt like a lead weight. She wouldn’t see them tomorrow. Or the next day.
God be with you, Cara.
And please be with Grace and our family.
Darlene walked down the hall to tell everyone good-bye. She knew in her mind and in her heart that she needed to be with Grace right now, but Brad’s comments, his blaming her, rang in her mind, as if he accepted no responsibility for Grace’s actions.
All she’d ever wanted to be was a good wife and mother. Was it so wrong to seek just a little bit of independence outside of those two roles?
Apparently so.