With Jenny’s permission as a small comfort, Bea continued to descend into what seemed like a dark abyss. The feeling of being outside of herself grew stronger as scenes from the night of the incident flashed through her distressed mind. She threw herself to the floor of Jenny’s office, though the change of position was barely perceptible from her perspective. In her head, she was back at Eagle’s Point on that fateful night. She could see the wretched man so clearly as he lie on the dirt, his body convulsing much like her own. His short, brown hair was stained with blood where the indentation on his skull was visible. Bea had thought his head looked like a jack-o’-lantern, smashed by rowdy teenagers at Halloween. She hadn’t known what kind of damage a baseball bat would do. She hadn’t taken the time to consider it before she’d swung wide and with all her might.

  In an instant, everything went black.

  18

  When Bea came to, she saw several sets of feet in front of her face, positioned sideways. It took her a minute to figure out she was on her side, splayed out on the floor of Principal Maguire’s office. She noticed two sets of feet wearing matching shoes and moving towards her. As Bea raised her eyes to follow the shoes upwards past the matching black pants and crisp, white uniform shirts, she realized that a pair of officials were here to take her away.

  “No!” she said to them as forcefully as she could manage. “I can’t go! My son…”

  “Take it easy, Mrs. Hughes,” Jenny said from somewhere in the distance. “You’re going to the hospital to get checked out. We’ll take good care of Max while you’re gone.”

  “That’s right,” one of the uniformed officials said. His voice seemed like it was coming from somewhere in the distance, too. “We’re EMTs. We’re going to help you. Try to relax.”

  Relax? They want me to relax?

  “I’ve got Max. Don’t worry. Let the professionals take care of you,” said a genial voice. Surprisingly, it belonged to John. Bea thought maybe she was imagining things, but he sounded… kind. Whatever had happened, it must have spooked him. His tone reminded her of the old days when they had first met. It soothed her and made her feel safe. She knew it would be fleeting and was mostly an act, but she clung to any small bit of support she could come by these days.

  Bea smiled slightly, then rolled onto her back. She tried to relax her shoulders. She knew she needed help. She decided she should get checked out. She would let the EMTs do their job and help her. She cooperated as they scooted her onto a backboard. She was calming down and the pain in her chest was starting to subside. Until her thoughts turned to Travis.

  Travis!

  No sooner did she think about Travis than he burst through the doorway, a look of grave concern on his face. “Babe!” he exclaimed through watery eyes. “Are you okay? What happened to you?”

  Bea felt whatever color was left drain from her face. Her mouth fell open. She was at a complete and total loss for words. “I… I’m…” she tried.

  Travis rushed to her side, kneeling down in an open spot beside one of the medics. He grabbed Bea’s hand and lifted it up to his lips to kiss. “I’m right here,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Bea could feel John’s eyes on her. And she could predict what he would say before the words came out of his mouth. He’d try to keep himself under control since there was an audience present, then he’d let Bea have it later.

  “Beatrice,” John began. “How about you introduce me to your friend?”

  The room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The male medic glanced down at Bea’s wedding ring, then at Travis’ left hand and finally at John’s. Bea felt ashamed. So much so, that she wished she were invisible. She wished she could sink down into the floor and remain hidden underneath. She thought about how sad her life had become. She’d known things would unravel one day, but this wasn’t how she’d pictured it.

  “Oh,” Travis said, releasing Bea’s hand and getting back onto his feet. “John Hughes, I don’t believe we’ve met. I didn’t see you over there.”

  Travis didn’t reach out his hand to shake John’s. He was polite, but he intended to stand his ground. His confidence made Bea both grateful and nervous. She was desperate for someone to love her so much that they would stand up for her in the face of any challenge. But on the other hand, she was petrified about what might transpire with Travis and John in the same room. Especially since Travis had called her babe.

  “How do you two know each other?” John asked, crossing his hands at the front of his waist in what looked to Bea like his typical politician posture. Everything John did seemed to irritate her these days. She was beyond fed up with him.

  “We’re old friends,” Travis said, glancing at Bea. She supposed that description was as good as any.

  “Let me get this straight,” John said, his temper rising. “The two of you are old friends who just happened to be together the morning after my wife and son spent the night at a hotel instead of at our home. I doubt I’m the only one who thinks that seems a little suspicious.”

  “More like we’re old friends who can count on each other to be there when things get tough,” Travis replied, standing up straight and puffing his chest in a primal show of physical dominance. Bea didn’t think she had ever seen Travis this upset. He was an easy-going guy who was slow to anger. But not today.

  “I see,” John said sullenly. “You’re old friends who call each other babe.”

  “John!” Bea whelped. The sound that came out of her was more like a squeak than a voice. The pain in her chest was easing up, but bad feelings were rising towards her neck, determined to force their way out somehow. She thought she might vomit.

  When Travis heard Bea’s pitiful response, he stepped in front of her, placing himself between her and John.

  “Let me guess,” John began. “You think my wife needs protected… From me.”

  “I don’t know,” Travis responded, looking around the room at the medics and Jenny for a show of support. “Does she?”

  The tension in the room was becoming nearly unbearable. The medics continued to check Bea and get her properly strapped down onto the backboard, but she could tell they didn’t want to be in the middle of any of this. Jenny seemed to want to stay out of it, too, but Bea got the idea that Jenny felt bad for her. Bea thought they were all wondering if John would lose his cool like he had the night before at Honey Hog.

  “Mrs. Hughes,” Jenny said as she stepped close to Bea and placed a hand on her forearm. “Is there anyone you can talk to you? A professional, I mean.”

  Bea shook her head no, but the thought of it and what a relief it would be sent a flood of tears pouring out of her eyes. She wanted so badly to confess what she had done. She needed to get it off her chest. Holding it in was hurting her and turning her life to shambles. Bea began to sob. Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks, her body heaving as the emotion forced its way out of her.

  “I’m sorry,” Bea said quietly to Jenny. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Things are jumbled up. I don’t know what to do to make them right.”

  Jenny reached over and got a notepad and pen from the top of her desk. “Here,” she said as she jotted down a name and number. “This is a friend of mine who is a psychologist. His name is Martin Duffie. He was trained at Yale and is one of the best. I’ll tell him to expect your call. I think he could really help you.”

  Travis turned away from John and squatted down on the other side of Bea. “Babe,” he said. “I think she’s got the right idea here. Once they check you out at the hospital and clear you to leave, let’s call Dr. Duffie. I’ll wait with you and will drive you wherever you need to go. I won’t leave your side.”

  Bea was mortified that John was hearing all of this, but the doting felt good coming from Travis. She was realizing that she had been deprived of love and affection for so long that she craved it. She needed it. She felt guilty for needing it, but she did. She couldn’t help it. She was only human, after all.

  Tears continued to roll out of Bea’s eyes. It was as if a fountain had been turned on and the flow couldn’t be stopped. Wetness soaked the sides of Bea’s hair and the backboard below her. She had needed a good cry for a long time. Because John had always been so quick to tell her to suck it up, she had made a habit of holding her emotions in. She had even come to believe crying was too messy. A show of weakness. But holding her emotions in wasn’t working, that much was clear. Here she was, in front of Travis and relative strangers, crying her eyes out.

  “Babe,” Travis tried again, his voice gentle and soothing. His confidence in calling her babe in front of John was impressive. But before Travis could finish, Max burst through the door with Michael Cho and Annie Rogers following closely behind him.

  “Mom!” Max exclaimed as he threw his backpack down and rushed to his mother’s side. “Are you okay?”

  Travis stood and took a step back.

  “She’s fine, son,” John said while standing still. He didn’t move towards Max. “She got herself worked up. You know how she is. Nothing to be too concerned about.”

  Travis and Jenny shot John the same disgusted look while Max ignored him.

  Hadn’t John shown a glimmer of kindness just a few minutes ago?

  “Really?” Travis asked John sarcastically, unable to stop himself.

  “I’m okay,” Bea said, finding her voice while embracing her son. “They’re going to take me to get checked out by a doctor. But I think I’m fine.”

  “I’m sorry,” Michael said to Bea. “Annie and I tried to stop him. We were almost back to his classroom when Max saw the ambulance parked outside and thought it might be here for you.”

  “I’m not sure how he even knew to think it a possibility,” Annie added with a chuckle. She seemed impressed by Max. “Your son broke into a sprint and we couldn’t keep up. I don’t blame him. I probably would have done the same to get to my mama.”

  Jenny gave a sympathetic look to her colleagues. She wasn’t upset with them and she wanted them to know it.

  “It’s understandable that you’d be worried about your mom,” Jenny said to Max. Then to Michael and Annie, “Don’t worry. Max Hughes is where he needs to be.”

  “Thank you,” Bea whispered. “Thank you, all.”

  There was a moment of silence as Bea and Max held each other and everyone else looked on, touched by the love between this mother and son. The two of them had a connection that other people wished for. It was a bond that could not be broken. Not by school bullies, not by John, and not even by a physical separation should Bea be arrested. Deep down, Bea knew she and her son would remain close no matter what happened. Her relationship with Max was the best part of her life.

  Suddenly, Max noticed Travis.

  “Who’s this?” Max asked. His expression was one of curiosity. It almost seemed like he recognized Travis.

  Could he remember? It was such a long time ago. He was so little.

  The adults in the room looked at each other, unsure how to answer. Travis smiled, a look of excitement on his face. He was eager to be officially introduced to Max now that the boy was older. He wanted both Max and Bea to be a prominent and permanent part of his life.

  “I’m Travis. Travis Earl. Pleased to meet you, Max.” Travis extended his hand towards the boy.

  “Hello,” Max said politely to Travis. Then he turned to Bea. “Mom, have I met this guy before? He looks familiar.”

  Bea’s eyes grew wide as she contemplated the best response. For years, she had worried about exactly what Max had seen the night of the incident. She had wondered if it would negatively affect him. She had wondered if it would mess him up. That was the last thing she wanted. Even if Max hadn’t seen Bea hit the man in the head with a baseball bat, he had certainly experienced terror that night. They say kids are resilient. But they also say childhood trauma can have adverse effects that last for an entire lifetime. Bea cursed the vile man who had brought trauma to her son’s childhood. Damn him.

  At several points, Bea had thought about taking her son to see a child psychologist. Every sign that hinted at a potential issue with Max’s development had thrust Bea into a panic. Common childhood occurrences like wetting the bed once in a while or pretending to talk like a baby had caused Bea great concern. In fact, she would have taken Max to a psychologist if she hadn’t feared what he might report. She had ultimately decided taking him to see someone was too risky.

  In place of seeking professional help, Bea had done her own research on child development. She knew she wasn’t qualified to really help Max, not like a professional could, anyway. But she figured she’d learn and do her best. It was another thing she had spent her time on while John was at work and Max was at school. Just like the letters and videos she created and stashed in the attic in the event of her arrest. Based on everything she’d read, she thought Max was doing okay. But even after years of research, her knowledge was limited. At least she felt like she was doing something.

  A myriad of potential issues flash through Bea’s mind as Max looked at her expectantly. This statistics for children of divorce were troubling. And the same for children of a mentally ill parent. Would she and John split up? Would she be diagnosed with a mental illness given her apparent inability to handle the stress? The statistics for children who’d had an incarcerated parent were the worst of all.

  “Travis owns a furniture store down by the bay,” Bea said, trying to put the rest out of her mind.

  “Yeah, I build the furniture myself,” Travis added proudly.

  “That might be why he looks familiar, Max,” Bea said. “We bought some furniture he made when you were little. Our big dining room table and several side tables in the house are from Travis’ store. Maybe you remember going with me when I picked them out.”

  “Right!” Travis said, more excited now.

  Max nodded his understanding as he continued to sort through memories. He squinted his eyes and put one hand on his chin as he thought.

  The mood in the room was still tense, but Bea thought maybe they were over the hump and that she would get through her school visit without any major upsets beyond what had already happened. She let out a deep breath she had been holding and relaxed back onto the board beneath her as the medics finished their final preparations to transport her to the hospital. They were moving slowly, which Bea took as a good sign.

  Max stood beside his mother and seemed content with her explanation until suddenly his jaw dropped and he looked like he might cry. Bea turned to see what he was looking at. To her horror, John was rushing Travis from behind, one arm positioned to wrap around his unsuspecting neck.

  19

  John’s attack landed on the back of Travis’ head with a thud. He gave it all he could.

  “You bastard!” John yelled as the force of his weight knocked Travis off his feet and took him to the ground. “It all makes sense now. You were sleeping with my wife! Are sleeping with my wife! How dare you? Who the hell do you think you are?” He sounded like a madman, ranting as he flailed around.

  Travis was younger, bigger, and stronger. John probably wouldn’t have mounted an attack face on. Coming from the back and using the element of surprise was the only way for John to have gotten a leg up on his formidable opponent. As the two of them hit the floor together, John used his fists to pommel the back of Travis’ head. Disoriented, Travis looked around to get his bearings. “Hey now, John!” he shouted. “Take it easy.” It was obvious Travis never expected John to make such a bold move. But it only took a minute for Travis to turn the tables.

  In what looked like an effortless maneuver, Travis reached one arm around, wrapping it across John’s back. Then using his other arm and his toes to lift himself off the ground with John still on his back, he flipped over, causing John to lose his grip. Travis had moves like a wrestler. He was agile and limber. Even when it looked like he was pinned and at a disadvantage, he knew exactly how to pivot to regain control. John was sent flying backwards while Travis sprung to his feet.

  “Dad!” Max cried. “Why are you doing this? You’re scaring me.”

  Max’s face was stoic, even as the emotion threatened to burst out at the seams. He was doing his best to handle the disturbance like a young man instead of a boy. Bea was at a loss for words, but she pulled her son to her and held him as he cried, the young man giving in to the force of his feelings. Bea had been afraid of what might happen with her two beaus in the same room, but was still surprised to see this skirmish taking place. She had hoped things wouldn’t get any crazier.

  The male medic pulled a radio from his belt and called for police backup. He didn’t wait to ask before doing so, which was unnerving for Bea. It felt like things were happening around her she couldn’t control. Like an inevitable chain of events had been set in place that— for better or worse— had to play themselves out. She hated what John was doing to Travis. She hated what he was doing to their family. She just wanted peace in her life.

  Is that really too much to ask?

  Travis went silent and Bea couldn’t get a read on him. She wasn’t sure if he was angry or whether he just felt sorry for John. She had never seen Travis in this type of predicament, so she wasn’t sure how he would react. He held the power. He could have returned John’s attack and easily beaten the older man. But so far, it looked like he was only defending himself, careful not to injure his adversary in the process. Bea appreciated the example Travis was setting for Max. If her son couldn’t count on his dad to keep it together, at least he was witnessing a good man who could.

  John, on the other hand, was coming unglued. His volatility was increasing. He apparently wasn’t able to control his temper anymore. Bea wasn’t sure what was going on with him, but she decided right then and there that she and Max would not stick around to figure it out. A small part of Bea appreciated the fact that John was feeling protective of her and jealous of Travis. But he had been so cold and distant for so many years that it was too little, too late. Not to mention, this wasn’t the right way to show it.

 

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