Page 80 of Home Tears

“No, you can’t. It’s rolled up in a whole other slew of barrels, and you’re barely holding it together as it is. You think this lie is bad? There’s a whole bunch more when you find out who he is and his twisted story.”

“What do you mean?”

Sandra plopped her feet onto Dani’s lap again and settled back once more. “Don’t worry about your daddy. He’ll come to you when you’re ready. I know that much, if I don’t know a lot else. Let me tell you about your granddaddy. How about that? He’s another story.” Sandra chuckled. “Your granddaddy’s name is Oscar Bendsfield. Oscar Senior.”

Mr. Bendsfield. Dani’s eyes lit up.

“That’s right.” Sandra chuckled again. “Nanery Bendsfield used to be my best friend until her husband up and left her. He didn’t leave her for me, so she never suspected a thing, but I hope you don’t got the O’Hara curse for stupidity.”

“What do you mean?” Dani repeated.

As she talked, her fingers began moving on her lap. Sandra was making the motions like she was crocheting. There was nothing in her hands, but that’s what she was doing. “I was stupid. I went back around for more and more. He got me pregnant again and again. I lost the last kid—which is what I think set off my crazy spells. He never made no promises with pretty words and such, and we were never together in the ‘official’ sense, but I loved him. I kept going back for more and more.”

“Does…”

“Does Nanery know?” Sandra nodded her head and grinned wickedly. “She sure does, but she didn’t find that out until years later. It took her nearly twenty years before she got told what her precious Oscar was up to outside their cold bed, long before their marriage went stale.”

“You ruined a marriage.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “The marriage was ruined long before Oscar came sniffing around.”

“You didn’t help it.”

That got her grandma, and Sandra sat back. “Huh. Got a point.”

“Marriage is sacred.”

“Theirs wasn’t. Theirs was just wrong.” Sandra’s fingers went back to air crocheting. “Sometimes partnerships aren’t meant to be. And sometimes they only do bad more than good. Theirs was one of those. They weren’t meant to be married, and Oscar knew that.”

“Lilies and daisies,” Dani announced.

Sandra grew still. “What did you just say?”

“Lilies and daisies. Her husband. My grandfather. He liked lilies and daisies. She told me that two days ago, didn’t he?” But Sandra was looking away. That was her answer. Dani stood up slowly. “It was sacred in her mind. Isn’t that all that counts? That it was sacred to one of them.”

“They just flowers.”

“Funny.” Dani’s voice dripped in disdain. “Those were her words, too.”

Sandra O’Hara looked away.

“She cared enough to remember him. She named her son after him.” Dani turned away. “Those were my mother’s favorite flowers, too. Lilies and daisies. They’re my mother’s flowers, so don’t say they’re just flowers. They’re more than that. They meant something.”

“Why are you doing this? Why do you care after all these years? These are secrets better left buried. They just…they just bring pain to everyone involved.”

“So says the one who’d rather have her sins left buried.” Dani shook her head. This was wrong. It was another wrong that was being buried. This wrong affected people. The cycle had to stop. The pain had to stop. “You’d like everyone to forget about you, don’t you? You want to forget what you did, what you did to your daughters. You don’t want to be remembered because then you gotta look at your decisions.”

“It’s not like that.”

Dani’s blood began to boil. “That’s all this family has right now: secrets. I barely talked to two of my sisters growing up, and I don’t talk to the one living now. Julia’s like an anal, obsessive-compulsive stranger who just knows all my hurts. Secrets got us where we are right now. I think I have a right to find out who I come from!”

“You’re going to tear up this family—”

“There’s no family to tear apart!” Dani cried out. “We got the same name. That’s it. There’s no family anymore, and it started with you!”

“Now, I didn’t—”

“You told your daughter to give her children away. You told her that Mae could have me, if she cleaned up her act. You acted like we were cattle to give away to the richest owner. You told your daughter, who came to you—knowing that she was dying—you told her to split her children up.”

---