“What are you doing, Mama?” Sara rubbed her eyes, squinting in our mother’s direction. The sunlight beamed through the kitchen window, and I stood in the doorway, a few feet away, wondering the same thing.
“I’m packing us a picnic.” Mama grinned as she peered over her shoulder at us.
“You are? We’re having a picnic?” I chimed in, a little confused. It was the first day of spring break, and it was only nine in the morning.
It was also the first time I’d seen my mom’s demeanor resemble any sort of happiness in over a month, and it set my emotions in overdrive. After the incident, she didn’t speak for a week. The guilt over not stopping it consumed me. So it was nice to see her happy—at least, it seemed that way. It eased the remorse that still lingered, even if just a little.
“I sure am. My boss has been letting me bring all the leftovers home from the dinner shifts, so we have plenty.” She continued to load food wrapped in aluminum foil into the cotton tote bag that she usually kept her sewing scraps in.
“Cool.” Sara stood beside her and peeked into the bag, trying to get a glimpse of what was inside.
“You two go get dressed and meet me out front.” She nudged us both in the direction of our bedroom. We did as we were told and got ready in record time.
Just a few minutes later, we were headed down our long, winding driveway toward the pond at the end of the road. There weren’t any signs indicating it was private property, and we’d seen little kids fishing there in the summer, so Mama assumed it was okay.
“This looks like a good spot.” She glanced around and pulled the blanket out of the bag, spreading it across the ground. Her reddish-brown hair blew in the wind, splaying across the tiny freckles that dotted her nose. Her blue eyes actually sparkled in the sunlight, and I couldn’t help but stare at her. She seemed…happy. And that made me overjoyed. Until I watched her hands while she straightened the blanket, and I caught another glimpse of it. She usually tried to keep it hidden, but the sunlight drew attention to the bright-red scar covering her ring finger. It was still raw and angry.
He’d made her pay when she dared to ask him where he’d been all the nights and days he was gone. Duane took her wedding ring off her finger and placed it on a fireplace poker before he shoved it into the burning brush of our only heat source. When the metal glowed with heat and searing intensity, he slid the ring back onto her finger, straight from the poker—reminding her who was in charge. Not that Mama told me any of those details, but I had an imagination and drew my own conclusions. It hadn’t taken much to paint the mental picture, especially since the poker still lay against the fireplace the next morning. That had been the reason for her deafening screams that night. And the smell of burnt flesh still lingered throughout the house.
The whole thing made me sick.
I tried my best to put the visions of what she went through that night out of my head and enjoy the afternoon. We didn’t get good days very often, and I wanted to take advantage of it while I could.
“So, are you girls happy to be out of school for spring break?” She began scooping some sort of casserole onto plastic plates, a grin still covering her lips.
“Oh yeah!” Sara beamed. “I’m going to watch cartoons all day.” It was the little things that made her happy.
“What about you, Rachel?” She squeezed my knee with her delicate fingers, her left hand folded at her side once again.
“I got extra books from the library. One of them, I’ve been waiting on forever.” I shoved a spoonful of the casserole into my mouth after speaking. Thankfully, the librarian had let me check out extra books for the break. Escaping to imaginary worlds was the only way to pass the time at home—it made things a little easier. My nights would be occupied with Jackson, but I never saw him during the day.
“Well, that’s good, I’m glad you like to read so much. I used to read a lot when I was your age, too.” She took her own bite and gave me a wink.
The three of us talked about school and Sara’s favorite new shows. Those rare few minutes were a little slice of happiness and peace. Mama had even brought chocolate cake. But just like clockwork, he always arrived just in time steal these precious moments from us and changed the course of any given day.
The sputter of his old clunker pulled closer to us. Mama’s body stiffened when he turned off the engine and rolled his window down. He didn’t say a word, but Mama offered him a smile and waited a moment before speaking.
“Do you want to join us?” she asked, a slight tremble in her tone.
Please say no. Please say no.
When he didn’t answer, she continued. “We have plenty here, but I saved you some at home, too.”
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, refusing to meet his gaze.
He didn’t reply or even acknowledge she’d spoken to him. He simply started the engine and revved it up before slamming it into drive and taking off.
“Aww man,” Sara whined. “Now there’s dirt on my cake.” Her bottom lip started to tremble, and hatred ran through me.
“I’m sorry,” Mama whispered, trying to wipe the dust off the cake, but it was useless.
“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.” Sara tried to reassure her, although it was clear she was still upset.
“Let’s just head home, okay, girls?” Her voice was meek and her posture defeated. With her eyes cast down, she swallowed hard and started to gather the food.
He always ruined everything.
Everything.