Skin and Bones

“I’d like to call him in as a witness on Thursday.”

The words keep repeating over and over in my head. I keep hearing his voice clearly, as if he’s right next to me in the car. I try to drown it in the lame song that’s on the radio, but it doesn’t work.

The car stops and I carefully get out of the car. Donna slams her door, while I carefully click mine shut. I turn to walk towards the front door, and I’m barely halfway when I hear the car door get opened and slammed shut behind me.
I turn around to apologies, but Donna only smiles and walks right past me with her keys in her hands.

As soon as we get inside, the soft ringing of the phone echoes through the house. Donna quickly throws her keys on the small table in the hall before she runs into the living room and answers the phone.

“Donna Way.” I lean down and untie my shoes.
“Oh, hello.” I feel bad for listening in on the conversation – half of it, at least – but I need to keep my ears and mind busy in order to get the voice of my mom’s attorney out of my head. I kinda feel bad for him. It must suck having to defend a child abuser.
“Well, we just came home, so you must have missed us by a second.” Donna’s laughing, but I can tell it’s forced. Her laughs are always warm and inviting. Right now, it’s warm, but defiantly not inviting.

I place my shoes near the door and hang my jacket on the overflowing coat rack.

“Oh, well why don’t you come over for dinner then?” On my way to the kitchen I glance into the living room where Donna has taken off her jacket, and I quickly divert my target and go to take it out of her hands. She smiles widely. The spark in her eyes makes it impossible for me not to smile back.
“Sure. How’s six for you?” It takes me a few tries to get her jacket to stay on the coat rack, but eventually it hangs still.

I walk into the kitchen and sit down at the dinner table. Just as my butt hits the chair, I hear – what I assume is – Donna’s jacket hit the floor in the hallway.

“Alright. See you tonight.” The fake enthusiasm in Donna’s voice makes me worry.
I hear her walk around in the hallway for about a minute, before she shows up in the kitchen. She goes straight for the coffeemaker. It’s no mystery where her sons get their addictive habit from.
“So, Mr. Adams is coming over for dinner tonight.” Mr. Adams! That’s the social worker’s name. Damn, how can I forget a name like that?

Donna puts the jug underneath the tap and fills it with water. She fills it all the way up before she speaks again.

“He said he had some bad news, but hopefully they’re not too bad.” I can tell she’s barely believing her own words, but I love her for trying.
I love her for being here for me.

She comes over and sits down across from me while the coffeemaker is purring in the background. I smile up at her, but she’s frowning down at her gathered hands on the table. Her right hand is wrapped around her left, and she’s turning her wedding ring in circles towards me.
I reach across the table and grab a hold of her hand, and when I look up again, her eyes meet mine.
I can’t help but smile when I realize how secure, safe and sound I feel when I’m around her.