Page 127 of Heartfelt Pain
Her grounds for divorce have nothingto do with how he treated her as a wife. But about how she thinks he’s treated us. Like soldiers to be used.
Dad pieces it together just as I do.
“I love our boys,” Dad says softly.
Mom tenses all over again.
“I love them,” he repeats. “You know I do.”
“You forced our son to marry,” she whispers, her voice raspy after the bout of yelling. “And that was after you saw how Roma’s heart broke. How can you say you love them?”
“Did you ever doubt your parent’s love for you?” he asks. “And did we not marry for the better of our family?”
“I was twenty-eight,” she says. “If I had not truly liked you, my father would not have forced me to marry you.”
Dad frowns. Did he not know this or does he think Mom had been naive to believe it?
“I told you, you had no business messing with Aunt Macy’s business.” It’s a remonstrance. “You laughed at me and then my son stopped talking to me.”
I didn’t mean to. Not really.
My visits became few and far. I didn’t want to see Dad after the Ren debacle. I’d seen a side of him, I didn’t like. I wrongly assumed Mom had gone along with the idea as well. I had no idea she’d fought against it. That she harbored such hard feelings.
But that’s my mother. She hides everything deep down.
I think I do the same. Instead of facing my parents and having it out, I avoided everything. I never meant to hurt her in the process.
“Mom,” I say gently.
Her weary blue eyes cause a fission of nerves. They burn through the layers of my mind and suddenly I’m falling back through memories. Only this time I’m examining all the images, thoughts, and words from a perspective only time can bring.
“You told me to kill Cliff.”
I ignore the startle in the room at the abrupt change in topic.
“That day you saw me.” I’d just told Ren about it. How my mom found me puking in the bathroom right off the kitchen. For years, all I’d remembered was the burning shame of acidic puke coming up my throat. How I’d looked up to see Mom.
But the full memory comes back to me now. How she’d sunk to her knees and brushed tears out of my eyes.
“You told me to kill Cliff,” I repeat.
I’d thought it was a violent madness. That Mom and Dad deserved one another because all they thought about was blood.
But holy shit. . .
“You knew Cliff had put a hit out on Ren.”
Dima speaks for the first time. “He what?”
“You knew he was going after her.” Mom, with her watchful, silent nature. “That’s why you told me to kill him. You wanted me to save her.”
Grandma puts her arm on my shoulder, urging me to calm my breathing.
I hadn’t understood. I hadn’t understood and she could’ve died.
“If Nancy Mulligan hadn’t warned her. . .”
“Nancy?” Russ utters.
