The Breakup Mix (22 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Since U Been Gone

Michelle

I checked the time for the sixth time in five minutes and groaned as I stood in the long checkout line. That was me—always on the clock. I felt awful for leaving the kids with Chance for the last three hours and knew they’d all be ready for me to get back. I’d made good use of Chance’s money and picked out three outfits to update my wardrobe. I’d let her help me decide which one to wear to dinner tonight.

Once I finally made it through the checkout and outside, I tossed the clothes into the trunk with the mountain of Christmas presents for the kids and Brandon. And there may have been a thing or two in those bags for me.

I had to go home. There’s no way I can rip my family apart, not to mention Chance’s money would soon run out, then I’d be up shit creek without a paddle. There’s no way I could expose my children to the life Alissa had growing up, so I made up my mind to return to the house and deal with Brandon as I already knew how to do. I would suck it up and try to focus on the good things. At least now I could provide a good Christmas to our children and buy the groceries for our annual holiday feast. That’d taken a huge weight off my shoulders, and I owed Chance a kidney for her generosity.

By two o’clock, I’d gathered my children, picked out an outfit and hugged the life out of Chance. We piled into my car and headed toward the house.

Del Ray asked, “So did you have fun shopping?”

I grinned. “I did. I got you Christmas gifts.”

The mood in the car was borderline hostile. I glanced in the rearview mirror at the boys and asked, “You guys okay?”

Gibson asked, “Are we going home now?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

Martin said, “Dad’s going to be mad that you spent all that money.”

I stiffened. “That’s between him and me, okay bud?”

He shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

Del Ray asked, “Are you still going to Alissa’s tonight?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.”

Gibson sniffled, “Are you coming home, Mommy?”

My heart flopped as I caught his eye in the rearview mirror. “Oh honey, yes, I’m coming home. Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

Del Ray said, “It’s a valid question. All your friends are going to Florida after Christmas. Are you going, too?”

“What? No! No, guys, I’m not leaving you. I’d never do that, you hear me?”

Martin nodded. “Good, because I’d go with you.”

My sweet little middle child—my loyal son. Gibson whispered, “Me too, Mommy.”

Del Ray said, “Me three.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “Well, I’m very glad you guys love me so much, but listen, today was . . . I just . . .”

Martin said, “Today was awesome.”

I locked eyes with him then glanced at Del Ray. She nodded. “It was awesome.”

My mind reeled as I pulled onto our street. Were my children so miserable that they actually
wanted
us to separate? I heard each of them take a deep breath before they took off their seatbelts and open the car doors when we got home. They dreaded this as much as I did.

“Guys, go on inside and go to your rooms. I need to get these gifts in the house and don’t want you to see your presents before Christmas morning, okay?”

They grunted out their acknowledgements and walked to the door. Brandon swung open the door and hugged each of the kids as they walked in then leveled his eyes at me. The door slammed as he stepped onto the stoop and folded his arms over his chest.

I swallowed the lump of dread forming in my throat and popped the trunk before I got out of the car. The bitter wind swept through the subdivision and threatened to take whatever oxygen I still had in my lungs. I pulled a few bags out of the trunk and started toward the house.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What is all that?”

“Gifts.”

He was unmoved on the stoop. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Michelle.”

I dropped my arms and let the bags dangle off my fingers. “Are we going to do this outside?”

“You think I’m letting you back in our house? You just fucked up big time, Michelle.”

I groaned and started toward the door. “Brandon, let me in. It’s cold out here.”

“Guess you should have thought about that before you ran off this morning with my children and didn’t return one text or phone call to tell me where they were.”

“What about me, Brandon? What about
me
?” I screamed.

“You can rot for all I care right now.”

“Wow, really? Be careful what you say when you’re mad, Brandon. Those words might come back to haunt you.” I started toward the door again and he moved in front of me.

“No, Michelle, you’re not coming in.”

I felt my heart quicken as I heard my children in my head saying,
I’d go with you . . . me too . . . me three
. I started up the step again, and he blocked the door with his arm. “Brandon, let me in this house, or let my kids out.”

“No. You left. I’ll see you in court.” He turned and slammed the door in my face.

I dropped the packages and tried to open the locked door. I kicked and pounded on the door while screaming every word I could think. I heard Gibson and Martin shouting for me in the living room before their bedroom doors slammed and their heads poked out the windows. Both of my boys were bawling and pressing their faces to the screens screaming, “Don’t leave, Mommy, don’t leave!”

I ran to the car and got my keys out of my purse while mentally planning all the ways I was going to kill that motherfucker when I got inside. I raced back up to the door and put my house key in the lock, but it wouldn’t budge. I tried a different key thinking I’d pulled up the wrong one in my hysteria, but none of the keys on my ring would move the deadbolt.

Oh God, he’s changed the locks
. I screamed and pounded on the door and threatened to call the police. Brandon opened the curtain and flipped me off before he threw them back together and walked away.

“You son of a bitch! Give me my children! I’m calling the cops!” I ran to my car to grab my phone and threw it against the seat when I realized it was dead.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
They’re going to think I’m leaving if I really leave, but I can’t get to them. I looked at the height of their windows; if they jump, they’ll break their legs. I pounded on the door until my knuckles bloodied and slumped to my knees to weep. “Brandon, let me in! You can’t do this!”

He shouted, “You made your bed, psycho! Deal with it.”

I ran to the boys’ windows. “I’m coming back, okay? I’m coming for you. I have to leave . . .”

“Mommy, no! Please don’t go!”

“I have to go get the cops so they’ll let me have you, okay? I’m coming back.”

Sirens blasted at the end of the road as two patrol cars barreled down the street. I ran to the sidewalk and waved them down. “Please stop!” The cars skidded to a halt when they got in front of my house and four officers approached me with caution and hands on their guns. “Please, help me! My husband’s got my kids inside.”

“We got a 911 call from this location about a domestic disturbance. Are you okay, ma’am?”

I took a deep breath and sighed. Del Ray must have called the cops. “Oh thank God. He’s got my kids.”

“Who does?”

“My husband, Brandon.”

“Are they his kids, too?”

I nodded. “We got in a fight this morning, and I took off with the kids, but when I got home, he let them in but won’t let me in and now won’t give me my kids. And he’s changed the locks. I just want my kids.”

Brandon opened the door. “Oh thank God you’re here, officers. She’s a nut case and made all kinds of threats toward me and the kids.”

I gaped and screamed, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Brandon pointed at my bleeding knuckles. “Well just look at her hands, man! She’s tried to pummel everything she’s seen in the last ten minutes.”

“Are you out of your mind, you lying piece of shit?”

The officer grabbed my arm. “Ma’am, just calm down.”

“He’s keeping me from my kids!” I jerked my arm out of his grasp. “Give me my children, and I’m out of here.”

“Officer, she’s unstable. She’s on six different medications to keep her sane, and she’s in no condition to be around children. Hell, just look at her.”

Everything around me started spinning, and the voices I heard suddenly sounded very far away. Unstable, medications, bloody knuckles, attacked, unfit . . . he planned this whole thing. That evil bastard planned this. I stared at the man I’d spent my whole life loving and had never wanted to rip his heart out and shit on it more than I wanted to in that moment.

The officer looked at me. “Ma’am, do you think it would be best if you went somewhere else tonight to cool off?”

I leveled my eyes at him. “I’ll leave this house and everything in it including that bastard in the door if you will just give me my children. Those kids are my
life!
”

“Sir, do you mind if we come in and talk to the kids?”

“Sure, come on in, but she stays outside.”

“I’m pretty sure legally I’m allowed to enter my own house and at least retrieve ‘all those medications that keep me sane,’ right officer? Am I not at least allowed to pack a bag?”

The officer looked at another officer. “Why don’t you two sit in the car and stay warm? I’ll be back out after I talk to the kids.”

The officer guided me to the car and at least let me sit in the front seat instead of the back like a criminal. I stared at the neighbors who’d come out to enjoy my humiliation. “This is the worst day of my life.”

The officer nodded. “Yeah, this doesn’t look like a good situation at all.”

“He’s such a douchebag. Even under normal circumstances. The reason I left this morning is because he was such a complete asshole to me and the kids. We just wanted to have a normal day, ya know? Just once. And it was a great day.” I looked at him with tears spilling over my face. “It was a great day.” He handed me a napkin to wipe my face, and I stared at the door willing my children to come running out. “Will they get a choice, officer?”

“Most likely.”

A few minutes later, the officer came out of the house alone and approached the car. I opened it, but he held up his hand and motioned for me to roll down the window. “I talked to the kids, and they want to go with you, but he’s insisting we leave them here for the night and you can come back to see them tomorrow.”

“See them? Bullshit!” I started to open the door again, but he prevented me from doing it.

“Ma’am, I think it’s best for everyone if you find somewhere to go, calm down, and y’all can figure it out tomorrow.”

“Officer, I am not leaving this house without my children.”

“He’s got your journal, Mrs. Morehead. He read me a few things from it, and . . .”

I closed my eyes and put my head against the window. Words I’d written in anger, sentences I’d written instead of saying, paragraph upon paragraph explaining the chaos in my head and dissatisfaction in my life scrolled through my head like a television news ticker. My private thoughts and desire for my ink to give me some guidance had just been used against me. I mumbled, “My children will never understand what’s going on. That lunatic will spin this and they’ll never forget the day that their mom abandoned them after I just . . .
I just promised them I would never leave them
. Never! You don’t know what you’re doing! Why do you think I have to take so much fucking medication? It’s because of that asshole!”

The officer put his hands up. “And I’m sure that’s true, but my job right now is to diffuse the situation. You guys can hash this out in court.”

“Court? He will not keep my kids from me until then. I’ll pitch a tent on this fucking lawn before that happens.”

The officer chuckled. “Ma’am, you can’t do that. Now I’m asking you one more time to leave on your own.”

“Are you going to arrest me for trying to keep my children, officer? Really?”

He opened my door and reached for my hand. “Please. I’m asking you to go somewhere else and get your head on straight before this gets worse.” I got out of the car and started up the yard. “Ma’am, do not go toward the house.”

I screamed, “I’m going to get the fucking Christmas presents laying on the ground in front of my house! Jesus, why don’t you just shoot me and end this?”

Martin yelled from his window, “Mommy! Don’t go!”

I sobbed as I said, “I have to, bud. But I’m coming back tomorrow, okay?”

He screamed, “Can’t I go with you?”

I pointed at the window and looked at the officers. “Do you see this? Do you?”

The officers looked at each other then hung their heads as one pointed at my car. Brandon came to the door with a grocery sack. He tossed it on the stoop and folded his arms.

I picked it up and looked at my medication and a ripped piece of paper out of my journal that said,
You should have answered your phone.