Chapter Ten
Savannah wandered through the empty spa, making mental notes of the things she wanted to change or rearrange. She’d closed on the place this morning, and this was her first walk-through as the owner.
She wasn’t in the least nervous about buying the place. She’d opened, owned, and operated a successful string of spas and didn’t see where this should be any different. She couldn’t use the name of the franchise she’d sold, but that was okay. This would be a different type of spa: low traffic, hopefully a steady clientele and affordable pricing.
Primarily, it was to give her something besides writing to focus on, and a way to help employ people in the town. A lot of jobs were created by the Legacy company in the new natural gas and wind farm business, but there was still a need for local businesses to hire more people. She intended to be part of that.
Her phone rang and she fished it out of her purse. It was Mason. “Hi,” she answered. “Is everything okay?”
“For the most part. I think I’m doing something wrong. Tommy woke up, had a bottle, and won’t stop crying. I tried jiggling, rubbing, patting, walking, and swinging and nothing works. Any suggestions?”
Savannah could hear the panic in his voice. “First, take a deep breath. If you’re nervous, he will be too, so you have to make him feel you’re at ease even if you’re not. I’ll head back to help you.”
“Thank you.” This time it was gratitude she heard in his voice.
“Sure. See you soon.”
She’d just hung up the phone when someone tapped on the front door. Savannah hurried to see who it was. It was Lily Matthews’ assistant. Savannah had hired Lily as her attorney in Cotton Creek to work with her attorney in New York on Savannah’s divorce.
“Hi, Mary.” Savannah said as she opened the door.
“Lily wanted me to bring this to you right away.” Mary handed her a manila envelope.
Savannah opened it and withdrew the papers inside. It took only a glance to know what it was. Dissolution of marriage. She was officially divorced, two million dollars in cash and assets poorer, but free.
“Thanks Mary. I appreciate you bringing this. Thank Lily for me, would you?”
“I will. Congrats, Mrs.—I mean, Ms. Harper.”
Savannah smiled. “Thanks, Mary.”
She watched Mary leave, shoved the papers back into the envelope, and then left the spa, locking the door behind her. With luck, by the time she arrived home, Mason would have gotten Tommy calmed down and would be a bit less frantic than he sounded on the phone.
While she’d like nothing better than to be the woman in Mason’s life, she had to tread carefully. Before Tommy showed up, Mason already had the power to break her heart. That power was exponentially increased because now he offered everything she really wanted in life: a man she was crazy about and a beautiful child. She might be a dreamer, but she wasn’t stupid and didn’t trust for a moment that she was going to have all she wished for just dumped in her lap.
Life had never been that easy for her and she didn’t think it was suddenly going to change.
*****
Mason made sure Tommy’s carrier was settled securely on the sofa before he picked up his phone and started reading Savannah’s story again. He couldn’t remember ever reading anything that bothered him as much as her tale. Maybe because it was a true story rather than fiction. Most likely because as much as he wanted to deny it, he was falling for her.
After her grandfather broke her leg, he also sexually abused her. No one knew until after her father got her to the hospital and she had been examined and her injuries attended to.
It was hard to keep my eyes focused. My vision kept swimming in and out and I was dizzy. I felt for my dad’s hand and he gripped mine tightly. “It’s okay, Vanna, I’m here. Daddy’s here.”
The doctor stood at the foot of my bed with a policewoman. She had a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. “Miss Kinsey, I’m sorry to put you through this, but I have a few more questions. After your grandfather hit you with the mallet, what happened next?”
I brushed at my face to wipe away the tears that suddenly streamed from my eyes. “I don’t know. My dad was there, telling me I would be okay.”
“You don’t remember anything else?”
“No. When he hit me the second time everything went dark.”
The policewoman nodded and looked at my dad. “Mr. Kinsey, do you have anything to add to your statement, sir?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Very well. We’ll be in touch.”
Once the policewoman was gone, the doctor spoke up. “I’m sorry but it’s my duty to inform you of the full extent of your injuries and to explain why the policewoman wanted to know if you remembered anything else.”
His words scared me. Wasn’t having a leg that was shattered enough? What else was wrong with me?
“What is it?” My dad asked.
“Your daughter was raped and sodomized.”
I’d never in my life been so humiliated and shocked. I wanted to disappear. My grandfather had done that to me? I looked at my dad and his face looked like a thundercloud. I’d seen my dad angry, but never like that.
“I’ll kill him.” My dad pried his hand from mine and leaned over to look me in the eyes. “I’ll kill him for what he did to you.”
“Daddy, no. Please don’t leave me. I’m scared.”
It wasn’t really a lie. I was scared. Scared that he would do what he threatened and that the police would find out and put him in jail. He didn’t leave me, not that day or any of the days I was hospitalized. He stayed there, holding my hand and promising me everything would be okay.
The police came to say they questioned my grandfather and he said I was lying. He had witnesses to prove that he wasn’t even home during the time in question. My mother and grandmother backed him up. They were with him, praying over a sick parishioner.
It was a lie and I said so, but the police said I was confused due to trauma and the doctors said I probably wasn’t thinking straight and didn’t remember what really happened to me. I knew the truth and told my dad. He believed me and promised that my grandfather would never harm me again.
When I was released from the hospital, I was nearly sick with fear at the idea of returning home. The moment we pulled up in front of the house, I saw them. My grandparents and my mother. None of them smiled. None of them welcomed me home when my dad and I reached the front steps.
He looked at my grandparents. “This is my home and you’re not welcome. Come near my daughter again and I’ll kill you.”
“You’re a Godless heathen and your whelp is a harlot. You’ll burn in hell for this,” Grandfather yelled and pointed his finger. Mama and Gran just stood there nodding.
“Get off my property before I call the police.” Dad said. “Don’t make me throw you off, old man.”
“You can’t talk to my father that way.” My mother finally spoke up.
“Oh, but I can. And seeing as how you never once came to see our daughter and helped build an alibi of lies for that monster, you can get off my property as well because we’re done.”
“You can’t—”
“Wanna bet?” My dad took a step toward the porch and all three people standing there stepped back.
“You won’t get away with this,” my mom threatened as Gran took her arm and tugged her toward the side of the porch where there was another set of steps.
We watched them leave, then my dad helped me into the house. “Are you really going to make Mama leave?” I asked. I wasn’t close to her and she didn’t seem to care much about me, but she was my mom.
“I am, honey. We can’t tolerate what they did. It was mean and evil and I can’t live the rest of my life with someone who has that much evil in their heart.”
I didn’t see my mom or my grandparents for nearly a month after that. Not until one Thursday afternoon. My dad called to say he had to work late, so I should go ahead and eat and do my homework. I did that and then walked outside to sit on the porch. It was a hot evening with little breeze and we had no air conditioning. At least outside there was a bit of movement in the air.
The moment I saw my dad’s truck, I knew something was wrong. Fear nearly made me throw up. Without knowing why, I was filled with certainty of where he was. I grabbed my crutches and hurried to my grandparents’ house. The closer I got to the shed in the back yard the more nauseous I felt. The door was closed and my hand shook as I reached for the handle.
As many times as I’ve tried, I can’t remember what happened next. All I know is that my next memory is being on the ground. My dad was sitting there, holding me, and police were swarming all over the yard, in and out of the house and shed. I learned later that my grandfather was dead, bitten multiple times by his snakes that had somehow all escaped their aquariums.
Three days later, my dad was arrested and charged with murder. I screamed and clung to him when they put those handcuffs on him, begging them not to take him. No one listened. They called my mother and she said I was no child of hers so they had someone from child services come for me. I pleaded with them, with everyone. My dad wasn’t a murderer. Surely they could see that.
No one listened. No one at all. They just put me in a home and I didn’t see my dad again until after he had been in prison for a year for a crime I was convinced he didn’t commit.
The sound of a car brought Mason out of the tale. He set his phone aside, moved Tommy in his carrier to the floor, and then hurried to the door. Savannah parked and got out of her car as he stepped onto the porch.
“What’s wrong?” She asked as she walked up the front steps.
Mason couldn’t form the words just yet. All he could do was fold her in his arms and hold her.
“You’ve been reading my story,” she said as she pulled back.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. More than you can imagine.”
“Can you tell me?”
She looked at him for a few moments. “Yes, but can we go inside?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mason opened the door and held it for her, watching as she headed first to lean over and place her hand lightly on Tommy’s head. Then she took her purse to the kitchen and placed it on the counter.
Savannah opened a bottle of wine that sat on the counter and looked at him. “Want a glass?”
“No. Thanks.”
She nodded, poured herself a glass, and carried it to the dining room table. He noticed she sat where she could see into the great room where Tommy slept. He took a seat at the end of the table, cata-corner to her.
Savannah took a sip of her wine, closed her eyes, and then opened them and looked at him. She looked strained and tired and he almost regretted asking her to tell him about that terrible part of her past.
“For weeks after they put me in the home, I begged to see my dad.” Her voice was soft, almost as he would imagine it being back then as a teenager. “I asked a thousand times. No matter who I asked or how many times, no one would tell me why he wasn’t coming to see me, nor would they call him for me. I didn’t know why, but kept telling them that the police were wrong. My dad wouldn’t do that. He hated snakes and would never go into that shed.”
She had another drink from her glass, set it down, and watched it as she turned it around on the table. “My mother didn’t come to see me, nor did my grandmother. I was alone and scared and I didn’t understand.
“Until the policewoman who’d come to talk to me once before showed up. She said that my father confessed that when he got home that day my grandfather was in the yard and yelled at him about being a sinner and me being a child whore. He said he’d see us both be made to pay for our sins and I’d live my life with my legs spread, servicing men with my unholy body. My dad said when he started toward my grandfather, he ran to the shed and my dad followed.
“My grandfather snatched the top off one of the snake aquariums and threatened to throw the snakes on my dad. My dad shoved him and Grandpa fell, as did the aquarium. The snakes started striking at Grandpa and at that moment the shed door opened and there I stood. Dad grabbed me and carried me out into the yard, away from the shed. He said he heard my grandfather screaming and yelled for my mother or grandmother to call for help.
“They supported that testimony. They called the police, but by the time the ambulance arrived, my grandfather was dead.”
Mason reached for her hand, stilling it from turning the glass. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You don’t have to finish if it’s too hard.”
She shook her head, but didn’t raise her gaze. “I don’t even remember seeing my dad or the police or any of it. Why is that? I’ve tried a thousand times to remember, but it’s like there’s nothing there. All I remember is my mother coming to the court the day I was made an official ward of the state. She gave up all rights to me and said she hoped I was happy now. Her father was dead and mine would rot in jail for the rest of his life and it was all my fault.”
Savannah finally looked at him. “She hated me from that moment on. So, I lost my whole family. As awful as it is, I could have lost my mom and my grandparents and survived just fine. But my dad? Losing him was the worst thing ever. He shouldn’t have done it—confessed, that is. He didn’t mean to kill my grandfather and he shouldn’t have said he did. I know he did it for me. He was trying to protect me, but it cost him everything. My grandfather died and my dad went to prison. He’s still there. Eligible for parole in six months and twenty-nine days.”
“Savannah I’m sorry. I— God, I don’t even know what to say. What about your mother?”
“I haven’t seen her since the day the court made me a ward of the state. I ended up getting placed with an older couple and lived with them until I graduated high school.”
“Were they good to you?”
“They were…indifferent. They only did it for the money they got from the foster system. But I had a roof over my head and I would have been the skinny gimp regardless of where I lived.”
“Skinny gimp?”
She gave him a smile that held no humor. “I walked with a limp for a long time because no one was around to pay for rehab. And the people I lived with didn’t believe in overfeeding their foster kids, so I gave half of my meals to the two younger ones. Thus, skinny gimp.”
“More like a kind young woman.”
“Everyone needs someone to care about them. Those kids had no one else.”
“And what about you? Who cared about you?”
“My dad. I worked cleaning houses and doing laundry, weeding gardens, babysitting and tutoring other kids to make enough to take the bus to see my dad once a week. He didn’t want me to come and for the first year refused to see me. But I kept going and finally he saw me. I remember how good it felt to finally hug him. All I could do was cry.”
Savannah cleared her throat and blinked back tears. “I cost him his life, Mason. He’s in that awful place because of me.”
“That’s not true. He’s there because of your grandfather and the horrible things he did to you.”
“That’s what my dad says.”
“I agree and I would have done it too.”
“No. My grandfather could have been made to pay, but not at such a high price. If it were my choice, I would have chosen to have my dad with me. He was the only one who ever loved me. In my entire life, there was only him.”
“But you were married. Your husband must have—”
“Loved my money.”
“I thought your family was working class?”
“They were. When I was a senior in high school, still in the foster home, I got a part-time job in a day spa. I worked afternoons and all summer and by the time I graduated, I’d earned a certification in Swedish massage.
“I found another job to work while I was in college and kept earning certifications. Before I graduated, I was doing sports massage for the university athletic teams, and I saved everything I could.
“When I graduated, I used all the money I’d saved and my dad titled his house over to me to sell. I used the funds to open my own spa. By the time I met Tim, I had six spas.”
“That’s pretty impressive.”
“It actually just fell into place with little effort. I found good people, trained them, and paid the fees for them to get certified, and the business just grew on its own.
“Tim and I became friends in college. He liked me, but was never madly in love with me. I was just a means to an end.”
“What end.”
“A comfortable life in which he didn’t have to do much except be the CPA for the spas.”
Mason had a hard time believing that. When he looked at Savannah, he saw a beautiful, smart, and desirable woman. “Why did you marry him?”
“Because he was the only one who ever asked. I wasn’t popular, I didn’t have many friends, and I spent my weekends going to visit my dad in prison. He was my best friend, my advisor, and the only one in the world who truly loved me.
“It was my dad who convinced me to have the surgeries to correct my leg, and then to get into yoga and running and he who talked me into expanding my chain of spas. It was even he who talked me into writing.
“It’s always been me and my dad. If I’m honest, that’s all it has ever been. No one else has ever loved me. Tim wanted my money and loved my success with the spa franchise, which, by the way, to be fair was his idea. But he hated my success with writing. But it’s okay. We’re officially divorced and he’s happy to live off my money and free to pursue the kind of life he wants.
“And here I am. In Cotton Creek. Counting the days until my dad gets out of prison and learning to reconcile with the real probability that I’ll never have what I wanted most in life.”
“Which is?”
“A home. A man who loves me. And children.”
“You can still have that. You’re young.”
“No, I can’t, but that’s part of the tale I’m not ready to talk about. In fact, I think I may have done enough talking for the day.”
Mason could see that telling him her story had taken a toll. He hated to cause her pain, but wanted to know. No, he needed to know who Savannah Harper really was.
After all, he was falling in love with her.