I can do more damage.
We walk to the car in silence. I notice Dad waiting for us near the car, pacing, anger written all over his face, his eyes glazed over with hate. I have never seen him looking so outraged in all my life. I look at Mum and see she’s fighting off tears. I wish there’s something I could do to take away their pain.
“I’m sorry, Mum. I know I shouldn’t have done that. Something in me snapped and it just happened.” I grab her, stopping her from walking any further. I pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her. We stand there for a short time, holding each other, giving the support we both need right now. Dad comes over, joining in on the hug, and supports Mum and me while we cry. He always tries to be the strong one.
Mum pulls me out at arm’s length, looking at me with a mischievous smile on her face. She has red eyes and blotchy cheeks, but there’s a little shining light in her eyes. Looking toward Dad, she says, “You would be super proud of the punch she just gave that lowlife, honey.” She gives a sad chuckle, which sets me off giggling.
Dad looks surprised and confused. Then he pulls me into a Dad bear hug with a laugh. It feels good to be smiling and laughing with Mum and Dad again. I know it will take a while to get over our loss, but we have each other.
“Wish I could have seen it,” he beams proudly.
We let go, walking to the car.
“I love you, Mum and Dad.”
“We love you too, honey. We’re always here for you, no matter what. We need, more now than ever, to stick together,” Mum says, taking my hand giving it a light squeeze.
Someone standing near us clears their throat. “Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. White?” We all turn to face a police officer standing before us. My heart sinks.
Oh, gosh, that punch has come back be bite me on the arse.
I look to Mum and Dad, who look concerned, as I’m sure I do too.
“Yes, that’s us,” my dad says formally. “Can we help you?”
The police officer looks really nervous as I watch small sweat beads forming on his brow. He looks young, maybe too young to be a police officer. Perhaps he’s a newbie. He has a strong build, about six foot tall, jet black hair, and bright green, sad but kind eyes. Maybe it isn’t to do with my incident.
“Ah… yes, I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am for your loss. I…” his voice catches as though he’s on the verge of tears, and he clears his throat, “… I knew Abby. I met her one day at the park. I was doing my normal rounds and I saw her sitting there alone… crying. I approached her and noticed bruises on her arms. We got to talking and I tried to get her to put out a Domestic Violence Order out on this guy and she said she would. I even gave her my number if she ever needed anything. I’m terribly sorry I didn’t do more.” He hangs his head in shame. Each word spoken is low and touches my heart.
I’m on the verge of tears and my mother has tears streaming down her face, but Dad stands tall and walks over to the young, handsome police officer.
“What’s your name, son?” Dad asks.
“Blake Johnson, sir.” His voice shakes from the emotion, or fear—I’m not sure. I do know my dad can be a scary person sometimes.
Blake is taken completely by surprise when Dad, who is not a hugging kind of guy, pulls him into a short, manly hug. A lump forms in my throat at the sight of two grown men shedding a few tears.
“You did what you could, son. Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s no one’s fault but that lowlife’s sitting in that courtroom now with a broken nose… hopefully.” He beams proudly at me. I give a weak smile.
“I know. I guess I will always think I could… no should… have done more to help her.”
“It’s all right. Just pick yourself up and go help those you can help now. Don’t live in the past.”
“Thank you, sir.” He stretches out his hand and Dad takes it. Blake then turns toward Mum and me. “You and your sister are both beautiful women. She talked about all of you that day, how