Chapter 36

 

 

“Hey, I can’t stay. Do you have it?” I asked, looking down at the new tiled floor in the foyer—not because of my new shiner. It was more; I was trying to keep my balance from the blurred room again. I should call Dr. Tharp. Something didn’t feel right.

“What do you mean? I thought we were doing lunch? Where are you going?”

“I’m just not very hungry.”

“Morgan? What the hell? Drew hit you again, didn’t he?” Alicia asked, lifting my chin. Whoa, that was a quick movement. I needed to sit down.

“Don’t, Alicia. Do you have it or not? I’m in a hurry.”

“Hurry for what? What the hell’s going on, Morgan?”

“Nothing. We had a fight. I just want what you have.”

“Are you okay? You look funny?”

“Funny? You mean because I have a blossoming black eye? Give me the damned box or whatever it is. It’s none of your business.”

“Yeah, okay, Morgan. You’re right. It’s none of my business,” Alicia reluctantly agreed, turning away from me. I sat on the bench beside the door. I had to, something wasn’t right.

Looking up, I stood, took the brown taped up envelope, and smiled. “I’m sorry, I’ll call you later,” I apologetically said.

“I’m worried about you. Open it here.”

“No, I’m fine. I promise. I’ll call you later.”

I took my prize, turned on my heels, and got the hell out of there. Sitting in my car, I looked over to the envelope. What was it? I didn’t find out right away. I wanted to get out of there, go somewhere alone. Where was that? Where could I go that I could see what I’d anticipated seeing for months? I couldn’t go where there were people. What if it was something that was going to cause a reaction?

I drove the way Drew wouldn’t want me to go, feeling nauseated. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling sick because something was wrong or if it was nerves. Hoping it was just nerves I shook it off, focusing on the two yellow lines running down the middle of the road while I rubbed the sharp pain in the side of my head with the tips of my fingers. I was going to call Dr. Tharp as soon as I laid this to rest.

I didn’t drive far when the curiosity got the better of me, that and I was having a little bit of double vision. I needed to pull over. I parked in a parking lot of some factory. Employees sat around picnic tables, smoking cigarettes and eating lunch.

I knew, feeling around the envelope that there was another key. Great. If I had to do this again, I’d surely lose my mind. Pulling off the copious amount of tape, I wondered why so much. It wasn’t like someone couldn’t just tear the paper. I blinked trying to clear the focus in my eyes. I blinked again trying to rid the dots and blurriness. I carefully opened the trifold letter with a Desert Springs Hospital header. That was strange. Why would Drew get a bank security box for that? What was it?

Unfolding the sticky note wrapped around the key, I read it first: Downtown store, safe in utility closet.

What did that mean? There was something else at the store downtown? Why wouldn’t he just put it at the bank with this hospital letter?

I screamed, jumping clear out of my skin when someone tapped on my window.

“You can’t park here. We have trucks coming in,” the burley looking man explained.

I started my car and nodded, letting him know that I was leaving.

Hell, I’d already come this far, I may as well go to the strip store and finish it. Drew was probably going to kill me anyway.

I jumped clear out of my seat again when my phone rang. I didn’t answer Drew. I couldn’t. I would lose my nerve if I did. Instead, I turned my phone off, not wanting him to be able to track me, pulled out, and headed to the jewelry store on the strip.

“Hello, Mrs. Kelley. What brings you in today?” one of the well-dressed men asked when I entered. My head hurt and I fought hard to feign a happy smile. It wasn’t a normal headache. The pain was more of a burning sensation right behind my eye.

“Hello, Norman. How are you?” I smiled. He bowed, returning the smile as I made my way back to the office, feigning smiles as I passed the staff in their extravagant work attire.

“Mrs. Kelley, pleasure to see you.” Johnathan stood from behind the desk.

“Hello, Johnathan. Do you have the key to the closet here? I just need to pick something up for Drew.”

“Um, Drew didn’t call. What is it?”

“I’m not sure that is your business. No. I know that it’s not.”

“I should call Drew.”

“You should give me the key. You technically work for me, not my husband. If you’d like to continue your employment with Callaway Jewels, you should probably do as I say,” I threatened.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and handed me the key from the top drawer, leaving me alone.

Closing the door, I blinked again. I’m not sure why I kept doing that. It was doing nothing to help my vision. Opening the door to the supply closet, I looked around, spotting the safe in the back of the closest. I inserted the key, gratefully it opened. A small size box with an envelope was all that was there. I retrieved the items and thanked Johnathon on my way out.

I didn’t even remember driving to the cemetery. I sat, parked in the center of the cemetery, trying to recall the direction to Michael’s gravesite. My head was on fire, my vision was blurred, and now I felt like my balance was off. “What the hell am I doing?” I asked myself, walking in the direction I thought was right.

I sat between Michael and Drew’s mother, more out of need than anything. I was going to fall if I didn’t sit down.

I opened the legal envelope first. A handwritten letter? This wasn’t Drew’s writing. If this was some love sick letter from Skyler, I may end up in prison for murder.

Andrew,

            Know that I love you, son. I know that when a mother has a child her goal in life is to nurture, protect, and care for that child. I didn’t do that with you. I’m not sure that I ever knew how, Andrew.

“Oh, my god. This is a letter to Drew from his mother,” I said out loud, blinking again. I shouldn’t be reading this. This was personal.

I know that you think I left this world because I couldn’t live without Michael. That wasn’t the case. I did love Michael in my own way, I guess, but it was all for you. I’m sick, Drew. I’ve been sick for a very long time. I don’t want you spending your life, taking care of a mentally ill mother. You deserve better. I knew Michael would leave you everything. You deserve everything. There is something else that I need for you to know about me, something that shames me too much to live with for one more day.

I knew, Andrew, I knew. What kind of mother does that make me? It makes me the kind of mother that doesn’t deserve to breathe. I should have done something. I should have run away with you.. I knew what he was forcing you to do, Andrew. I knew, and I didn’t stop it. Why didn’t I stop it? I have no excuse for that. I let Michael brainwash me. The first time I found the photos, Michael laughed and told me he was teaching you how to be a man, and do what needed to be done to get what you wanted.

I didn’t understand that. He was hurting you. I saw it with my own eyes. I believed him when he told me that you liked it, and that he would never hurt you. He told me that he was teaching you everything you needed to know to takeover once the time came. I knew it was wrong, Andrew. I knew it and I let it happen. You were just a small boy, and the hollow look in your eyes in the photos that I saw, I knew it was wrong and should have been enough to die for you. I’m dying for you now son. I’m dying because I want you to live. I’m dying because you deserve that. Michael is dying because you deserve to live.

“Uh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He was going to die anyway, right? I only helped him. I knew there would be no autopsy, and if there was, I’d be gone too. The man had cancer, he was sick, and was a very easy target. Had he not been such an ass and let the doctors and nurses do their job, he may have conquered the cancer. He got sicker and sicker because of me and because of an episode of Law and Order. Ethylene glycol, poisoning. It’s a toxic, colorless, odorless, almost nonvolatile liquid with a sweet taste, known to be lethal to humans.

It was easy to stir in a teaspoon into his hot tea, here and there. It was easy to keep the contents of the antifreeze hidden in a shampoo bottle. Thirty two ounces, Andrew. That’s what it took. I should have felt bad, watching him vomit green bile. I never felt bad, not once did I feel bad witnessing Michael convulse, vomit, and be so weak that, he couldn’t hold his head up. I remember laughing hysterically the first time he soiled his pants. The nurse made me leave, I was laughing so hard.

He’s never going to hurt you again, Andrew. I am never going to hurt you again.

Oh, my god. Drew’s mom killed Michael. She killed him and herself for Drew. What photos? What did that mean? I needed to see for myself. I didn’t want Drew seeing something that was going to set us back further than we already were. I had a pretty good hunch as to what it was, but I needed to see. I’d destroy them myself

I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry for the life I let you live, and I am sorry for not protecting you. Be happy son, live life in love. You have more than enough money to walk away and enjoy it. Don’t get consumed the way the Callaways did. There’s more to life than money, and I am sorry for not finding this out before I sacrificed us both. Once you have seen the horrific evidence of why you deserve everything you have, destroy it, and never look back.

I love you, Andrew, don’t hurt for me. I’m okay now.

Until we meet again…..

                                       Mom.

You’re okay, Morgan. Get this over with, put it behind you, and move on. I pep talked myself. Opening the box, I removed a pink, satin hanky. It still had a lingering perfume smell.

I didn’t even gasp at the surprise. It was exactly what I thought it was. Drew was so little, and I could see the hollow look that his mother spoke of.

“Excuse me,” I spoke to a young boy, consoling a crying girl. He had a cigarette between his lips. I knew he had matches. “Do you have a light?”

“Keep it,” he said, tossing me a bright yellow lighter, walking his crying girl away.

I flipped through the photos of Drew growing up, abused. The first picture I set on fire above Michael’s grave, it was Drew bent over the same desk that I’d been bent over many times. His small butt bore bright red lines.

“This is for you, fuck face,” I audibly spoke, dropping the burning photo to the grave. One by one, I watched the photos of a lost little boy burn in flames, all the way through his teenage years. Drew lied. Michael did way more than fondle an innocent boy; these were repulsive pornographic pictures. Not one of the pictures showed Michael’s face, only Drew’s. The pictures only displayed Michael from the waist down.

I was appalled and stopped looking, placing the photos on my self-made fire. I couldn’t stand to look at one more thing my husband endured from this man, horrific things that no child should know about.

Once the last photo was up in flames, I picked up the envelope. This time I did gasp, unfolding the paper with the hospital header. “Paternity Test,” I read out loud. What the hell was this? Did Drew have another child somewhere too? Nicholas Andrew Kelley, I read. That’s when I felt faint. The test results were inconclusive and would need to be retaken.

This didn’t make since. I saw those test. I saw that Drew was 99.9% the father. Why would he have an inconclusive test locked up in a bank? That was a dumb question. He didn’t want me to ever find it. Did Drew pay for a bogus test? No, he wouldn’t do that. Would he? Yes, Drew would do that. I knew he would. But would he do it knowing there was a fifty percent chance of him raising another man’s child?

I was suddenly furious. This was the last straw and I was getting to the bottom of it; the lies, every last one of them were coming out. Oh, my god. What if Nicholas wasn’t Drew’s at all. What if he was Dawson’s? We would never survive that. I was sure of it.

“Hey, you can’t have a fire here,” I heard a male voice say. Looking at the smoldering photos turned to ash, I felt the tears run down my cheek. Wiping it away and feeling the soreness from Drew’s hand, I looked at my fingers, puzzled. I was crying blood? That didn’t make sense. I stood to leave and that was the last thing I remembered.

***

I couldn’t see. Why couldn’t I see? Where was I? I could hear voices. I could see a bright florescent light but something was covering my eyes. Was I in a coma again? Nicholas? Oh my god, where was Nicholas. Did he wreck with me. Wait. Was I in a wreck? What the hell was going on? Why couldn’t I see? How long have I been out? Nicolas wouldn’t know who I was after five weeks again. Who was talking? I had so many questions going through my mind, questions that I wanted answers to. Where was Drew? Where the hell was I? I wondered as I drifted back into darkness.

“Drew,” I croaked the next time I woke or tried to wake. I still couldn’t see and had no idea how long I’d been out.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” I heard the music to my ears. Drew took my hand, comforting me with his warm touch.

“What happened, Drew?”

“You’re okay now. You’re going to be just fine.”

“Where is Nicky?”

“He’s with Marta. He’s fine.”

“How long have I been here?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer. I couldn’t handle knowing that I was away from my son for five weeks.

“Around twelve hours.”

Drew explained to me that I’d had a bleed in my brain and had to be rushed into surgery. The doctor said that it had been bleeding for a while and could have gotten worse due to a sudden jar, or even a light bump. We both knew what the jar was, although neither of us would mention it.

I spent three days in total darkness, afraid that once the bandages came off I’d be blind. The doctor assured me that I wouldn’t, but I was still scared. I couldn’t wait until that evening when he removed them. I wanted to see Drew and my baby. Somebody had to bring me my baby.

I slept, resting in total darkness for I’m not sure how long. I was woken up by familiar voices. Who was there? It was Drew, I knew that much, but who was the female. Why was I having such a hard time waking up? Deidra! It was Deidra. She was mad. What was she saying? I squinted my eyes as much as possible, trying to concentrate on the conversation.

“She’s got a black eye,” Deidra observed. I knew she was close to me. She was right beside me. I tried to turn my head when Drew spoke.

“Yes, she has two black eyes. She just had brain surgery,” Drew pointed out.

“Did you hit her, Drew?”

“No. I just told you. She had brain surgery. The doctor said it was expected.”

“Hmm, I get that. I get this and this,” Deidra stated. I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. “You know what I don’t get, Drew? I don’t get this right here. You see this dirty yellow right here? That’s an older bruise, healing. For Christ sake, Drew. You could have killed her.”

Drew? I needed to wake up. Why couldn’t I wake up? Drew was crying. I could hear him sobbing. His face was buried beside me, holding my hand. Drew, it’s going to be okay. Drew? I wasn’t talking, not out loud anyway. Damn it. Wake up, Morgan.

I didn’t wake up, not until, well, I don’t know how long. I didn’t remember anything else that Deidra said to Drew. The last thing I remembered was Drew, crying.

The next time, I woke up—well, I didn’t really wake up, but I could hear voices again. My mom was there with Jason and Justin, my little brother was there too. Why can’t I wake up?

Dr. Tharp removed the bandages around seven that evening. I was never so happy in my life when I saw the fuzzy Drew right beside me, holding my hand. Dr. Tharp explained to Drew and me about the importance of me resting—a lot. He was going to send me home with something the following day that would cause me to sleep several hours a day. That explained why I couldn’t wake up. I didn’t like that idea. I had a one-year-old to chase after.

“Your brain needs to rest, Morgan. I don’t want you watching television, reading, or anything else that will cause you to overthink things. Let’s give you the rest your brain needs, and we’ll see how things look when I see you next week. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed.

“I want to see Nicky,” I told Drew once we were alone.

“You can see him when we go home tomorrow,” Drew replied, sitting on the side of the bed and placing my hand in his. “We need to talk, Morgan.”

“I know,” I agreed. He had to know that I knew about the falsified paternity test.

“We need to stop.”

“Stop?” I questioned. Stop what?

“Yes, I want you to take Nicky and go to the beach house.”

“Without you?”

“Yes, I’m never going to lay a finger on you again. I promise.”

“What? You’re leaving me?”

“Don’t look at it that way, Morgan. I’m giving you an easy out. You deserve better than what I’ve given you.”

“Drew, we’re not getting a divorce. I thought you wanted to talk about you paying for a fake paternity test. Why did you do that? How could you do that?” I asked, wanting off the topic that Drew was insisting on rehashing.

“It was only temporary. I couldn’t stand the thought of Nicolas belonging to Dawson. He doesn’t, Morgan. He’s one hundred percent mine.”

“How do you know?”

“I did have the test done but not until Nicky was four months old. I wanted to do it before but whenever the birthmark on his butt cheek like mine went away, I was terrified. I couldn’t fathom him not being mine. I love him so much.”

“I know you do, Drew.”

“Morgan, I love you that much too. That’s why I have to let you go. I don’t want either of you to live with me. You deserve so much more than I can give you.”

“Drew. Stop it. You’re not throwing away our family. We’ll make it. I know we will.”

“Morgan, you have got to be the dumbest girl on earth. I hurt you. I did things to purposely hurt you. I hit you because your father hit my mother.”

“He’s not my father.”

 “I did horrible things to you because Michael did them to me,” Drew continued. I didn’t understand what he was saying. He wouldn’t let us walk out of his life like this. I knew he wouldn’t. Would he?

“I read the letter your mother left for you,” I admitted, looking down.

Drew didn’t reply. He looked to his lap, holding my hand and breathed a long breath.

“You never read it, did you?”

“No, not until I took it from your purse.” I didn’t even remember placing it in my purse, well, vaguely, I did. I think it was right after the caretaker told me I couldn’t have a fire.

“I went to the store. I found the photos,” I confessed. 

Drew sort of smiled. “And so I underestimated you again.”

“Drew?”

“Hmm?”

“I underestimated you too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I underestimated who you are and who you’ve become.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ve been through a lot and have come out on top. Drew, you’re not a bad person. You’ve just been dealt a bad hand. Please don’t do this.”

“Morgan. I almost killed you.”

“You did not. Dr. Tharp said I have had a bleed for some time. You hitting me probably saved my life.”

“Morgan, you can’t keep making excuses for me. I hit you. I hit you in front of our son. It’s never going to happen again. I promise you. I’m never laying another finger on you again.”

Drew had said this at least 10 times over the past couple years. This time was different. This time, I believed him. I didn’t like the reason I believed him. He was going to leave me. That’s what he was trying to tell me.

“Let’s talk to Deidra about it when we go to our next session.”

“I’ve already talked to Deidra about it. She agrees with me. She thinks we need to be apart. She doesn’t think I will ever be able to not control you.”

“You will. You’re getting better. I can tell,” I begged like a little girl afraid of losing the only thing that ever mattered to me.

Drew stood, held my face between his hands, and kissed me. “I hit you with a fucking brain injury, Morgan. Don’t you get it? I hit you with a brain injury,” he repeated like he was realizing that for the first time.

My mother and Justin came in that afternoon. It was so surreal seeing him like this. I tried my best to talk to them, sound happy, and not think about what Drew had said. Luckily they didn’t stay long. The doctor told them it was time for my meds and I’d be asleep for at least three hours.

“Take care of yourself and get out of here,” Justin smiled, kissing my cheek.

I smiled back. “You know I’m never going to get used to hearing that man’s voice come out of your mouth, don’t you? You’re supposed to be a cute little boy with seven freckles on his nose,” I teased.

“I still have three,” he teased back.

And sleep once again took over my body.