Page 73 of Becoming

Willamena put her hands on her hips, looking pointedly at her niece. “You tell me. The last time you stopped calling me it was because Samantha was… was.” She threw her arms up and whirled around so Rebecca couldn’t see the tears.

Rebecca frowned. “Stopped calling?”

“Two weeks, Rebecca! You promised to call me every day or at least once a week. So, explain to me why I haven’t heard from you in two weeks!”

After all of these years, Rebecca never realized just how much what Samantha did affected her aunt. She knew Aunt Wills carried the weight of guilt, but it was as unfounded as Rebecca’s was. This? This was more than just guilt. This was anger born out of grief.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Wills.” Rebecca walked up to the agitated woman and put her arms around her. “I’m sorry.”

REBECCA PLACED A cup of Aunt Wills’ favorite tea down in front of her, then sat down beside her.

“Before we delve into this,” she began, “I want you to know that Cassidy has done nothing wrong. I thought you knew her better than that.”

Willamena lifted a brow. “I have thought things before, Rebecca. I can’t afford to be wrong again.” She sighed. “I don’t truly believe that Cass has it in her to be cruel. But I had to make sure.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did. A couple of times. But you never answered.” Willamena looked over at Rebecca. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have the image of you broken and bruised every night when I close my eyes? Over the years, it got better. When you met Cass, the visions came back until I realized Cass was good for you. But when I didn’t hear from you…”

Rebecca lowered her eyes. She saw those calls come in from her aunt, but there was always something more important than returning them. Or so she told herself. Was she subconsciously avoiding the calls?

“Something did happen recently, Aunt Wills.” Rebecca saw her aunt’s hands tighten around her cup and quickly explained. “Nothing bad! Cassidy took it upon herself to prove to me that I wasn’t responsible for Samantha’s death.” She explained what Cassidy had done and Hunter’s medical opinion.

Willamena sat back and listened carefully to Rebecca’s words. She watched her actions and the look in her eyes as she spoke. The psychiatrist in her observed the subtle differences in Rebecca’s behavior. As Rebecca’s aunt, she noticed the enormous weight that had been lifted from her niece’s shoulders.

“You didn’t call me back because I make you think of her,” Willamena surmised.

“No, you don’t!”

“Dr. Woodrow does. And, since the doctor happens to be your aunt, you couldn’t distinguish between the two. Do you feel you no longer need therapy, Rebecca?”

“Since I can’t ‘distinguish’ between the two, who am I speaking with now?” Rebecca asked moodily.

“Both. I get that by alleviating your guilt, Cass has allowed you some peace. However, as I recall, you were still having nightmares a mere three weeks ago. Was it all due to your guilt? And, now that is gone, so are they?”

There were times when Rebecca hated having a psychiatrist as an aunt who raised her. This was one of those times. Would she ever be able to have a normal conversation with her aunt? Or would Samantha always hold something over their heads?

“They were gone. So was the pain and fear.” Rebecca sat back and sighed. How could she be mad that her aunt had the same exact thought Rebecca had earlier. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I was afraid to talk to you because I thought this good feeling would go away. I didn’t want to have to think about it anymore. It has been more than fifteen years, Aunt Wills. I’m tired. I want her out of my head. Out of my life. I’m even selling the club.”

That news got raised brows from the doc. “That’s a huge step, Becca. I’m proud of you.”

“I should have called you,” Rebecca conceded. “I should have let you know what was going on.” She leaned closer. “Have you thought about seeing someone, you know, professionally, for these visions you get?”

For the first time since she arrived, Willamena laughed. “Oh, lord. Do I really sound like that?”

“Kind of, but I was being serious. What happened to me was not your fault, Aunt Wills. I need you to know that. To understand that. To believe it.”

“I talk to someone,” Willamena confessed. “I have been for years, though we psychiatrists prefer to think of it as simple conversation between colleagues. I think there’s a clause on our Cracker Jack diploma.”

Happy to hear her aunt joking, Rebecca chuckled. “I’ll accept that. If you try to do what I’m trying and let it go. Fifteen years is a long time to carry a burden, Aunt Wills. Believe me. We deserve better.”

“You’re right. We do. And, since I happen to love talking with you, how about we cut back on the therapy. As needed. All other times, I’m simply Aunt Wills.”

“SO, UH, HOW long is your aunt staying?” Cass made little circles on Rebecca’s bare shoulder with the tip of her finger. Her insanely hot girlfriend was naked beside her and Cass couldn’t “get it up” so to speak.

“Just a couple of days,” Rebecca answered quietly. “Is it okay that she’s here? I can have her stay at my place.”

“No, no! I mean, yeah, it’s great that she’s here.” Plus, I hate that you still have a “my place,” she thought grumpily. “She’s welcome anytime. You sure she’s okay on the couch?”

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