Lisa yawned and sat up in bed. Her eyes blinked open, puffy in sleep. Brad smiled and went to the bed. "Hey, he said, sitting down beside her. "How ya feeling?"
'tired," she said, yawning. She had slipped into a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top and tumbled into bed the minute they'd entered the room.
"Want some coffee?"
"Yeah." She looked around groggily. 'First I need a shower. I probably stink."
"You go for it. Want some breakfast?"
"Yeah "'Ihe mention of the word'breakfast" perked her up. She stopped on her way to the bathroom and looked back at him. "Gimme some French toast and scrambled eggs.'
"FYench toast and scrambled eggs it is."-
Lisa went into the bathroom and Brad picked up the phone and ordered a pot of coffee, French toast and scrambled eggs for Lisa, and pancakes and eggs overeasy for him. As an afterthought, he also ordered orange juice. By the time he was finished, the shower had already started. As well as Lisa's crying.
Brad paused, listening. The shower wasn't on full-blast. He could hear Lisa sobbing quietly, as if she were trying to hide it. Brad's heart sank at the sound of it. She really wasn't doing so well, and he couldn't blame her. There wasn't a day that passed when she didn't mention Alicia and her infant daughter and how guilty she felt. For the first few days of Lisa's return home she had been quiet about it, holding it in. Then, when she'd begun to break down suddenly and without warning, Brad thought she was reacting to the ordeal she had been through-and what he still thought was her reaction to what she had originally told him and the investigating officers. Now that the truth had come out, he was realizing what a terrible burden she had placed upon herself. Holding all that guilt in for over two weeks, agonizing over it every day, thinking about it over and over.
Lisa's crying cut through the din of his thoughts. He wanted to go in and comfort her, but at the same time he felt incredibly awkward. Two nights ago, when she had broken down and confessed to what had really happened, he had been frightened by her state of mind. He had never seen her-or anybody-so depressed. I killed them, Lisa had cried. I killed them, f killed them! Those words packed such a powerful accusation that it was hard to argue with them. Oh, he knew she hadn't really killed them, hadn't really slashed them to death with a knife or pointed a gun at them and pulled the trigger. But from a subjective point of view he knew Lisa was blaming herself for the murders of Alicia and her daughter, as well as Debbie Martinez. He suspected she was really berating herself over the murder of the baby. Because let's face it, he thought. She dangled that baby up as bait. And they went for it. Oh, they still tried to back out on the deal and Lisa was lucky enough to get away. But she hadn't been lucky enough to save Alicia and her daughter. And now she's beating herself up over it.
When Brad had first heard the truth, he didn't know how to react. He'd been shocked. Then a strange numbness had set in. He began looking at Lisa in a different light, seeing her through new eyes. Thinking about what she'd done was making him question who she really was.
And one of the foremost questions was, l can't believe Lisa would stoop so lucking low!
Followed closely by Don't think that about her! She's your wife! What would you have done?
Brad didn't know the answer to that question. It was a question he thought of often.
He had no idea what he would have done.
Brad approached the door to the bathroom, hesitating. He could hear Lisa crying in the shower. "Lisa " he said, softly, knocking on the door before he opened it. "Lisa?"
Lisa didn't answer. All she did was cry.
"Lisa." Brad stepped into the bathroom and approached the shower. The curtain was drawn, but he could make her out behind it, standing under the spray of water, probably hugging her arms to her sides, head down, sobbing.
"Hey, do you want to talk?" Brad stepped up to the shower.
"No" She hitched back a sob, her voice a hiccup. "No, I'm okay, I'm just…
"Just… what?"
She didn't answer him. She cried, her sobs loud and so ferocious that for a moment she couldn't answer. Brad waited outside the shower until Lisa calmed down somewhat. "Lisa?"
"`] hat?.
Brad hesitated a moment, wondering what to say. He had never seen her so depressed. "Lisa, let's talk.'
'I don't want to talk, I just want to die!" More sobbing.
*Usa," Brad said, doing his best to remain strong, but inside he was breaking down. He felt so alone and so scared for Lisa and her sanity. For the first time he felt weak, unable to do anything to make it all better. "Lisa, don't say that"
"It's true," Lisa sobbed. Brad opened the shower curtain so he could see her. She was standing with her back to the spray. She looked up at him with haunted eyes, her face puffy and red. "I just want to die. If I could kill myself now, I'd do it. I can never forgive myself for what I did."
"Lisa.. " Brad made an awkward attempt at taking her in his arms. Lisa shuffled back.
"No, don't touch me!" she cried. "Just don't touch me! Leave me alone! I'm a murderer! I'm a monster, and I just…Ijust…
"Lisa… Brad felt helpless, unable to offer a word or gesture of support. It felt like he was watching her drown in a rough sea that he couldn't calm.
"You don't understand what it's like," Lisa said, sobbing so uncontrollably that it was sometimes hard for Brad to understand her. "You just… don't understand how I feel… to know that I… I… I helped them kill this poor innocent baby. I led them to her… I… I… fed her to that… that… monster!" She broke down completely. "I fed a defenseless baby to a man who killed her! I just can't help thinking what… what… what she probably went through… how they… how they…" Lisa couldn't finish; she broke down sobbing.
Brad wasn't even aware that he was crying, too. Lisa's accusatory tone toward herself was like having a spike penetrate his guts. "Lisa, please," Brad said. He reached out and tried to grasp her arm. She didn't resist this time. He gripped her upper arm gently. "Please come out and let's talk."
"I'm stupid!" And then Lisa drove a fist into the center of her forehead so suddenly and so ferociously that it caught Brad by surprise. The blow rocked her head back. "I'm stupid, stupid, stupid!" Each stupid was punctuated by another blow to her forehead, right above the bridge of her nose.
Brad grabbed her arm before she could hit herself again. "Lisa, stop it!"
"Let go of me!" She struggled to free her arm from his grip.
"Not until you stop hurting yourself!"
Lisa went limp and sank to the floor of the bathtub, crying. Brad turned off the shower, then knelt down beside her, trying hard to keep his own emotions under control. He held her clumsily while she sobbed into his chest.
Brad sniffed back his own tears. His throat burned. He felt a heaviness in his chest. Hearing her say that she wanted to die, watching as she hit herself, hurt him in ways he never would have imagined.
They remained that way for a while, Lisa huddled on the floor, crying, Brad holding her awkwardly. Her tears slowed to a trickle, and when they did she was able to talk a little more coherently. "You don't know how much it hurts," she said, still averting her gaze from him, keeping her face pressed against his chest. You just don't know… as a woman… putting myself in Alicia's shoes… as a mother.: "
"I know," Brad whispered.
… it just hurts to know what happened to them. And to know that I helped make it happen. That if it wasn't for my own… greed, that-"
Something burst inside Brad. "Greed had nothing to do with it, Lisa, it was survival.'