Page 63 of A Twist of Faith
Air shot out of Reese’s lungs. He leaned forward from the impact. “Your mama killed your daddy?”
“She might as well have. Because of her problems, Daddy had to collect her from the local bars. She’d find a ride with some loser and then stay in the horrible place until Daddy or Jay picked her up.
Reese took a few steps forward. “Oh Dee, honey. I’m sorry.”
“One day, he got a call about her right after he’d picked me up from school. He usually didn’t take me with him to those places, but it was on the way. He had to carry her out because she couldn’t walk on her own.” Tears slid from beneath Dee’s closed eyes. Reese made it to the top step and took her hand.
She looked up at him, the anguish of the memory telling more than her words. “We were hit, ironically enough, by a drunk driver.” Dee’s voice broke but she cleared her throat. “The car hit the driver’s side and sent us into a roll. Daddy took the brunt of the impact and when ambulances arrived he was unresponsive.”
Reese stood transfixed by the pain in her eyes, a pain he knew too well.
“I rode in his ambulance, bleeding from a few scratches and shaken up. When we arrived at the hospital, I wouldn’t leave his side and stayed with him as they wheeled him into the elevator. That’s when he opened his eyes.”
The tears spilled faster. A sob shook her shoulders. Reese reached out and she stepped into his arms, resting her cheek against his chest. “He looked at me for a few seconds, never saying a word, and I watched the life drain out of his eyes. I watched him die and …” Her voice caught. “And I was trapped in that elevator with him and death.”
She turned her face into his shoulder and shook them both with her sobs.
“That’s why you don’t take elevators.”
Dee nodded against his chest.
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” He stroked her head, loosening her bun until her hair dropped around her shoulders. Cool and soft against his fingers, he caressed her head until her sobs stilled and her grip on his jacket loosened.
“I hate her, Reese. I hate her.”
Reese drew back and tipped Dee’s chin. “Hate is a strong word.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Honey, this hate is eatin’ away at your life. Don’t you see? All this worry and fear you carry?”
She shook her head like a little girl, eyes wide and watery. “I can’t.”
Reese’s heart broke for her.
“Unforgiveness is a sickness.” He used his mama’s exact words from two years before. “It takes up the space in your heart meant for better feelings, until there’s no room for good things. It causes you to mistrust people, fills your mind with negative thoughts, and hardens you into somebody you don’t want to be. You’ve gotta forgive her so you can live.”
“How can I expect you to understand?” She pulled out of his arms and turned her back to him, shutting out his argument. “You’ve had a golden world compared to mine. You’ve never been hurt like this.”
Reese strung his thumbs into his jeans pockets and leaned against the porch post. “You sure about that?”
“Look at your life. Look at your family. You may understand the grief of losing a father, but you have no idea what it’s like to feel betrayed—from someone who is supposed to take care of you and have your best interests at heart.” She swung to face him. “If she’d just thought of others instead of herself, then none of this would have happened.”
“Dee, I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. I’m sorry your mama had a serious prob—.”
“Hasa problem. It’s still there. Did you see her eyes?”
“Alright, I’m sorry shehasa problem, and that she’s brought her problems to your door. But bitterness isn’t hurting her as much as it’s hurting you. You’ve got to let go or you’re going to get hard inside and no one will get in.”
“Let go?” She sent a dry laugh into the cool air. “Let go! Let go of years of living between an absent mother and a verbally abusive one? Of proving I can rise above the lifeshechose? Of fearing an ounce of her blood in me might damage my future as a wife and mother? Years of wondering if my father will ever be proud of me?”
The lostness in her eyes drew him closer, until his hand caressed her damp cheek. “I hate to say this, but you need to take this pressure off yourself about your dad and look at what you’ve already accomplished. Your past is chasing you like a hound.”
“And I can’t outrun it.” Her bottom lip quivered again and he drew her back into his arms. “I just want to rest. I’m so tired.”
Her declaration nearly brought him to tears. Years of working so hard for things that could never feed her hungry heart, and trying to live up to the wishes of a ghost? Yeah, she probably was exhausted. “Let it go, Dee.”
She shook her head, unable to grasp the concept of letting go. She understood how to work and prove, but bitterness tangled truth into a murky mess. The idea of releasing something she’d gripped so long wasn’t bound to happen in one conversation—not without some Heaven-help. “She ripped my childhood apart. I don’t even know how to do this.” She waved a hand between the two of them. “Don’t spout off forgiveness to me.”
