Innocent Little Crimes Read Free

you’re
gonna bite my head off. Let’s start with some names and addresses
here, all right?”
    After giving the dispatcher an earful, she
hung up the phone and fell back onto the couch. The reality of the
situation began to sink in. The fog in her head cleared, leaving
her with pure terror. She had done this—this terrible thing. And
whatever happened to her brother’s kids would be all her fault. The
police assured her they would be right over, that she should stay
put. She clutched the arms of the couch, feeling each second pass
in agonizing slowness. Unbearable agony.
    Della ran to the bathroom and rummaged
through the medicine cabinet, this time emptying an entire bottle
of pills into her hand. She didn’t even bother to look at the
label. Whatever she was taking, it wasn’t going to be potent enough
to help her face what lay ahead.
     
     
    The sound of the door opening summoned Della
from her euphoric haze. From her position on the living room couch,
the odd shapes moving in the dark formed into her brother and
sister-in-law. Her eyes then drifted over to Mark’s bandaged
arm.
    Della barely made out the words her brother
and his wife screamed at her. “How dare you, you ungrateful, lazy
tramp!” More curses, words accompanied with spittle. She saw and
heard them in a fog. The accusations floated past her. Della found
it amusing to see their polished manners crumble. They were giants
looming over her, pelting her with anger. Their anger took
grotesque shapes, gigantic fur-balls, which rolled off her and onto
the floor.
    A laugh erupted from her mouth.
    Her sister-in-law stopped yelling and
stared.
    “Edward, she’s flipped. Look at her eyes.
She’s on those drugs again. God help us!”
    “Fur balls,” Della muttered, then laughed
again.
    Margaret’s voice came out in a screech.
“Edward, why is she talking about her cat?”
    Edward turned and looked at his children
standing in the hall, watching and listening. He lowered his voice.
“Go into the kitchen. I’ll be right there.” After the children left
the room, he turned to Della, who was still sprawled on the couch.
Della kept chuckling, tears running down her face.
    Edward spoke through clenched teeth. “This is
the last straw, Della. You hear me? I’ve put up with your . . .
lifestyle for too long. I’ve tried to be patient—God knows I’ve
tried. But this is it. Tomorrow, you’re out, you’re on your
own.”
    Margaret pulled at his sleeve. “Edward, look
at her. Shouldn’t we get her to a doctor?”
    “Hey, if she wants to kill herself, it’s fine
with me. I’m through with this. I’m tired of being responsible for
her. She’s thirty-six and I have a family to take care of here. I
don’t need this.” He stormed out of the room and his wife
followed.
    Della lay for what felt like an eternity,
floating in the dark. She became aware of the quiet in the house,
then realized she had dozed off again. By now everyone had gone to
bed. Groping for furniture, she edged her way back to her room and
found her phone. This time her therapist answered.
    “Daniel. It’s me, Della. I need to see
you.”
    “Della,” he said, his voice tired. “I thought
I told you not to call my home number unless it was life or
death.”
    “I know. It is. I screwed up today. I really
blew it . . .”
    “Can’t this wait until tomorrow? Don’t we
have a session at ten?”
    “Yes, but can’t I meet you tonight? I need
you.”
    “Della. I thought we discussed this. I
thought we decided to keep to the schedule.”
    “Oh, Daniel, don’t do this to me. I’m a mess.
I’ve taken pills. Too many pills. Please.” She knew she was begging
but couldn’t help herself.
    “You always take pills. Until you get a
handle on the drugs, Della, I can’t see you outside the office.
Have you been listening to the tapes? They should help you
relax.”
    “I don’t need the damn tapes, I need you. I
need to feel you touch me and kiss me. Hold me . . .”
    “Della.