Page 135 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

But for now, seeing that Pops is healing, that he’s putting in the work… it’s enough.

57

Becca

I think I’ll keep Doc. Virtually, of course. I’m not ready to meet face to face, not sure if I ever will be, but over the phone, talking is easier than expected. It’s nice to vent my fears and frustrations. To word vomit everything and have no fear of retribution. No fear of being judged.

Doc actually listened. He told me my emotions were valid.

And then he gave me homework.

Write down three things I wish I could be, then say it on repeat until I believe them.

So here I am on a Wednesday afternoon, in the parking lot of church, repeating my newly formed affirmations.

I want to catch my folks before Wednesday evening servi

ce, and this is my best chance to corner them in a place where I know they can’t leave. I have some things to say, and it’s high time they listen.

I am strong. I am bold. I own my power.

With a deep breath, I stretch my legs out of my car and slam the door behind me, hoping the slight tremor in my hands doesn’t show anywhere else on my body as I walk inside.

The office door is cracked, so I push it open the rest of the way and go in. My heart beats so fast I feel it slamming against the bones in my chest. Momma is hunched over the desk, Papa next to her, both of their attention on papers strewn across the desk.

“Hi, y’all.”

Papa’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as they land on me. “Rebecca, where’ve you been, young lady?”

My stomach jolts. How dare he act like they care. “It’s not like I’ve been hidin’, Papa. I just haven’t been here.”

His arms cross, his green stare slicing through me. “And why exactly is that?”

My eyes bounce to Momma. She’s peering at me from where she’s still bent at the edge of the desk.

“Momma didn’t tell you?”

His eyes flicker toward her, his posture stiffening. “Tell me what?”

At this, Momma stands straight, her pearls bouncing slightly as they rest around her neck, the perfect accent to the facade she projects to the world. I wonder if I rip them off, would it strip her bare and show the world her ugliness?

She clears her throat. “We had a heart-to-heart the other night and she didn’t take what I had to say very well. You wouldn’t be interested, darlin’, it’s woman stuff.”

There’s a glint in her eyes as she levels her gaze at me. I’m not sure if it’s a warning or a threat, but I don’t care either way. I’m done subjecting myself to what she wants at the expense of what I need.

Doc says people won’t give you power. You have to take it.

“No, Papa. It’s not woman stuff. She told me how y’all lied for years.”

Papa’s brow quirks.

“How she loved you, but you never loved her. How you got her pregnant, and had a shotgun weddin’, then moved here so you could pretend to be somethin’ you weren’t.”

“Rebecca Jean, that’s enough,” Momma hisses.

But I ignore her, my ire a tsunami, rising up to capsize everything in its path. Drowning the lies with truth.

“Is it, Momma?” I cock my head, locking eyes with Papa. “She told me how you’ve been lyin’ to everyone in town for years, and lyin’ to me my entire life.”

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