Twenty-Five
I could hardly stomach the funeral. Watching my mom mourn over a man like Tim was nauseating and listening to her talk from the podium about what a loving husband he’d been over the years. My mom had deluded herself into thinking Tim had loved her. He hadn’t loved her. He never had. My eyes had drifted to Rachel’s a couple of times and I could see the disgust in hers too. I doubted my mom would ever see it though. I don’t think she’d ever known what real love was.
We’d come back to the house after an awkward mingling with the few people at the service. Back to the cigarette smell and memories I wished I could forget. I wondered how long we would stay.
I knew I was the one who’d decided to come. I’d thought I should come for my mom, but it was apparent she’d never change.
“I hope you will stay for dinner,” my mom said once we were settled back in the house. “My neighbor brought me a casserole. I can’t eat it all. Tim could’ve eaten the whole thing by himself, but all this food will go to waste if you don’t help me.” Her voice cracked again, the way it always did when she talked about Tim.
I looked over at Rachel and she shrugged her shoulders. As much as I wanted to leave, it was only dinner. We could stay for it and then leave. That would be the polite thing to do. Then we could go and I’d feel we’d fulfilled our obligations.
“We can stay,” Rachel answered and our mom smiled.
“I’ll put it in the oven then,” she said, turning towards the small kitchen.
“Can you tell me where the restroom is?” Gabe asked after my mom was gone.
“Come on. I’ll show you,” I said and he followed me down the hallway.
Once he was inside, I headed back to the living room, but then I stopped when I came to the door of my old bedroom. It was closed and I found myself staring at it, wanting to go inside, but afraid to at the same time. My hand was on the doorknob before I could think about it for too long and pushed it open.
It didn’t look much different than when Rachel and I slept in it and I went and sat on the bed.
Rachel and I didn’t have a lot of toys growing up, but my eyes drifted to the corner where we’d kept our toybox, an old footlocker Tim had stuck in the room. I recalled playing in the room, making the best with what we had. Despite everything else, Rachel and I had managed to make our own memories, good memories, in this room. I felt myself smiling as I thought about the actual good times we’d shared together, but then my eyes found the closet and the smile disappeared. It was replaced with fear now as I imagined Rachel and I inside of that same closet, the door shut, huddled together, my big sister trying to calm me as our mother cried and Tim beat the crap out of her. I had shut it off for so long, but it felt like only yesterday as I stood here now. It was raw and I hated it, but then my eyes drifted back to the door and the sick feeling returned as I closed my eyes, remembering the darkness. Remembering that door pushing open. Remembering the smell of cigarettes and too much alcohol.
Don’t cry, I told myself. I’d done enough of that already. More tears meant he still mattered and he didn’t matter anymore.
“Sam?” Gabe’s soft voice was coming from the doorway. I looked up and saw him standing apprehensively in the doorway. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said dismissively.
“You sure?” he asked, stepping inside. Our eyes met and I didn’t say anything for a second until I opened my mouth and lied to him.
“I’m fine,” I told him, but his eyebrow raised in doubt and he stepped into the room.
“Forgive me for not believing you,” he said, sitting beside me on the bed.
“I’m that easy to read?” I asked softly, trying to laugh.
“I’m getting pretty good at it,” he said and then reached for my hand, holding it in his as he traced over the back of mine with his fingertips. “I knew today was going to be hard for you,” he said, almost in a whisper, which I was grateful for since the door was still open. “But I guess I didn’t realize just how hard it was going to be.”
“I guess I didn’t either,” I said softly, looking up and meeting his eyes. “Being here though…” I began, but then hesitated, afraid to say too much.
“You can talk to me, Sam,” he encouraged gently. I knew I could. He’d made that abundantly clear and I saw it now. I saw it in his eyes and I felt it in his touch.
“Being here has brought back so many memories,” I continued, my voice a whisper, just as his had been. “Being in this room has brought so much back.” He held my hand tighter then and my eyes drifted to the closet. “That’s the closet I used to hide in with Rachel. When she’d hug me and tell me she’d keep me safe while Tim beat my mom. I’d cover my ears, but I’d hear her cries. I didn’t know what to do. We were just little girls. I thought that’s how it was supposed to be. I didn’t know any better. I should’ve said something. I should’ve told someone.”
“You’re blaming yourself again. You just said it yourself, you were a little girl. So was Rachel. You couldn’t do anything. Forgive yourself even though you don’t need any forgiveness.”
I felt my eyes growing warm as I moved them from the closet and back to the door.
“I used to be so scared and sitting here now, that fear feels as fresh as it did all those years ago.” I choked up and paused for a moment while I tried collecting myself.
“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” he whispered.
“Rachel always tried to protect me. That’s all she cared about. That I was okay, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t always protect me and she didn’t,” I whispered, the words starting to flow out of my mouth without a second thought now. A tear fell down my cheek and I batted at it quickly. “I hated him. I hated Tim,” I choked out. “What he did…” I couldn’t finish though because I heard footsteps down the hall and then Rachel stuck her head inside the room.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said and when our eyes met, I knew she could tell she’d interrupted a serious talk. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barged in like this.”
“It’s okay,” I said, standing up quickly, grateful for the interruption. If Rachel hadn’t come in, I would’ve kept talking and I wasn’t sure that was something I was ready for. “Let’s go eat.”
I didn’t wait for Gabe or Rachel to say anything else. I simply walked out of the room and made my way to the kitchen where my mom had set the casserole on the table. I sat down in the same spot I used to as a kid and a moment later, Rachel followed, assuming her old seat as well. Gabe stood beside the table. I could tell he was unsure where to sit. There were only two chairs left and he knew one had belonged to Tim. He looked to my mother for guidance.
“Go ahead and take a seat right there,” she said, pointing to the seat she generally sat in. She then sat in Tim’s old seat.
We quietly began dishing out the tuna casserole. I wasn’t hungry, but I picked at my dinner, taking a few bites to try and blend in.
The silence was starting to become uncomfortable as the only sounds to fill the room were the sounds of our forks hitting the plates and my mother chewing too loudly. I was glad when Rachel finally said something.
“So, Mom,” she said, looking up from her plate and over to our mother. “Do you know what you’re doing to do now? Are you going to stay here?”
My mom had been bringing a bite to her mouth, but then stopped half-way.
“Of course I’m staying here,” she replied curtly. “This is my home. Why would I leave?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe with Tim gone now you wouldn’t want to stay here. Maybe you’d want a change.” I knew Rachel was insinuating that perhaps our mother would finally want to get away from the monster who’d done nothing but make our lives a living hell.
“I don’t want a change, Rachel. I can’t even believe you’re bringing this up right now.” My mom’s fork fell forcefully back onto her plate. “Tim’s only been gone a few days and you’re already trying to make me forget him. You’ve never liked him. Never.” Her words were bitter and forceful as she stared at my sister.
“Let’s not do this, Mom,” Rachel warned.
“Do what? Address the fact that you and Sam never even gave Tim a chance? From the moment he came into my life you two did nothing but cause trouble with him. You’d make him angry on purpose just to spite me.”
“We did not,” Rachel interrupted.
“You did. He was good to us. He kept a roof over our head and food in our bellies.” Her voice was louder now and it cracked as it got higher.
“He beat you, Mom. He beat us,” Rachel said bluntly and you could’ve heard a pin drop at her words. I looked at my mom then. She looked angry. Not just angry. Furious.
“Are you trying to air our dirty laundry in front of a stranger, Rachel?”
Rachel’s gaze whipped over to Gabe. I could see he was uncomfortable and I felt horrible that he was witnessing this.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Rachel began. “That’s not my intention, but you’re sitting here as if none of that ever happened, as if he’s Ward Cleaver. I just want you to be okay. That’s all I want.”
“Bullshit, Rachel,” she snapped. “You are unbelievable. You think you’re so much better than me with your fancy nursing degree as if you’re a damn saint. You left this house when you turned eighteen and you never looked back. You took Samantha too and you never came back!”
“Why would we want to come back? Why? After everything he did to you. What he did to us!” Rachel returned, her voice rising now.
“You think you know everything. You think you know what it’s like to be me. To try and take care of two ungrateful children. You know nothing. Your father went and died on me and Sam’s father took off when we became too much of an inconvenience! I was alone. I had nothing until Tim took us in! But, you don’t see that. You don’t choose to remember those things. All you remember are the few times he lost his temper a bit.”
“A few times?” Rachel gasped. “It was every damn night practically! You don’t remember that. You don’t remember the way Sam and I sat in that closet, praying for him to stop. Praying he wouldn’t put his hands on us! How can you forget all that?”
I immediately felt shame at the way I sat there letting Rachel fight this battle. I didn’t know what to say though. We’d never spoken this openly about it. Perhaps my sister and my mother had, but I hadn’t been involved in the conversation and to hear the justification in my mother’s voice made me ill.
“Why don’t you just go? Get the hell outta here and stay gone!” my mother suddenly shouted. “If all you’re going to do is bash me and my husband, then you’re not welcome here!”
Rachel and I stared at each other for a few seconds, our mouths agape and our eyes wide.
“We’ve never been welcome here, Mom,” I finally said, unable to hold it back anymore. Her angry eyes darted to mine and I tried looking into her eyes to see if she really was as angry as she sounded or if it was something more. Something deeper.
“I said get outta here!” Her finger pointed sharply to the door and after a few heavy seconds, Rachel, Gabe and I stood up. I waited for her to apologize, but I shouldn’t have been surprised when she didn’t. She never had.
Wordlessly, we walked quickly towards the door, gathering our things and heading right to Gabe’s SUV.
“She’s crazy! She’s never going to see it. She’s never going to admit what he did! We’ll always be second!” Rachel shouted as she slammed the car door.
“It’s okay, Rache. It’ll be fine,” I said, turning around to the backseat and reaching for her hand as Gabe started the car. “We’ve always been fine.” I tried smiling at my sister. My wonderful strong sister who’d always done her best to keep me safe. She needed me now and as tears fell down her cheeks, Gabe pulled away from the trailer. I didn’t look back as we drove away. I never wanted to see that place again.