Page 95 of Told You So
“He’s not a loving man, I know that, but he’s not heartless, even if he seems like it at times. We’d tried to have another child many times after you were born and it didn’t happen. It’s part of the reason your father and I grew apart. So, I did something I’m not proud of, my deepest shame and darkest secret. He’s a better man than you realize, if for no other reason than he didn’t turn me and Jesse away after your brother was born.”
“What a saint,” I mutter. “He didn’t turn his own child and wife away simply because he had abrokenson.”
She eyes me without response, as if she’s waiting for me to understand. Her words are muddled in my head, and when they don’t register, I frown. “What do you mean, he didn’t turn you away?”
She peers into my eyes, only blinking as she inhales a deep breath. “Jesse is not your father’s son.”
“What?” I lean onto the counter, gaze unwavering.
“I had an affair.”
“What?” I repeat. “And you’vebeen judgingme, acting like I’m such a disappointment?”
“I didn’t want you to follow down the same path—I was scared.” Expression unchanged, tears well in her eyes as she sits there, prepared for a verbal lashing, but I can’t speak.
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I’m hurt or surprised or simply confused. “Who is Jesse’s father?” I whisper and glance up at his closed bedroom door.
She shakes her head. “One of your father’s old clients,” she whispers and tears stream silently down her cheeks. “I wasn’t going to tell your father that I was pregnant. I was going to leave him, but I was frightened. I didn’t have a job then. I was home with you at the time and when you father found out—well, the rest is history.”
“You cheated on Dad,” I say again.
“He tried to forgive me, and that’s the man you know today. Angry. Betrayed. Maybe even heartbroken.”
The sudden sympathy and respect that swells inside me for my dad is strange and overwhelming.
“He resents Jesse, but not only for the reasons you think he does. There’s so much more behind it.”
“But—why are you guys still together if you’re both so unhappy?”
“I started working my ass off to have a stable career so that I could start a new life for us, but it’s been so long, I’ve lost sight of why I was doing it to begin with.”
The late nights in her office, the weekend meetings...This whole time there was a haunting shadow following her—a drive in her I didn’t understand. I didn’t realize how little I know my mother, until now.
A tear trickles down my cheek, for Jesse and my dad, and I wipe it away. Looking at her, I don’t know what I feel, but I see her through a lens I never have before.
“I hate myself for what I’ve done,” she admits. “I’ve hated myself for it since the day Jesse was born, and even more when I realized Charles would never forgive me. There has always been a life-sucking secret between us instead. I ruined us, and I’ve turned this family into something so far gone, I don’t know if I can turn it around again...but I’d like to try.” Even in her most revealing moments, she’s so much in control it almost hurts me to watch.
“I’m going to talk to your father about a divorce when he gets back from his trip. I can go part-time at the firm. I’d like to spend more time with Jesse before I lose him, like I’ve lost you.”
This time, I wipe tears away for me and the mom I never had. For the woman in front of me who’s more broken than I ever could’ve imagined. The mother I’m seeing for the first time.
“I understand if you don’t want to stay here any longer, but you will always have a home here, if you decide you want to come back.” She eyes my journal again. “I know things are difficult right now for you, that you’re worried about school and Jesse, and I don’t want you to struggle needlessly about a place to live. I will help you with your graduate program—your father will help you, too, no matter what he says. He’s too good not to, even if you’ve never seen that side of him before.”
I nod, unable to formulate any words. In the past few minutes, I’ve learned that my parents are nothing like I’d always known—or thought I knew. That my brother truly is a black sheep in my father’s eyes, but not for the reasons I’ve always assumed. I’ve learned the true depths of my parents’ unhappiness, and I swallow a sob in my throat.
My mom takes a sip of her wine and folds her arms over her chest again. “I know I’ve been absent from your life for years now, Bethany, but as your mother, no matter how much you hate me—”
“I don’t hate you,” I hear myself say.
Her face softens a little. “I’d like to request one thing.” She leans forward and rests her elbows on the countertop. “I’d like you to take that dyslexia screening—I want you to get help, for yourself. Not for me or your father.”
I feel the creases in my brow deepen.
“Let Mrs. Turner help you. She’s a good woman, and she’s better at the nurturing stuff than I am.” It’s a self-deprecating joke, but I can tell she’s trying.
“I will,” I promise.
She nods and takes another sip of her wine. A pause turns into a few breathes, and I wonder what she’s thinking as the silence stretches between us. The clock ticks. The laundry machine beeps in the other room, and a dog barks outside the house as we’re wrapped in shadows and darkness.
