Family Ties (10 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I wake sheathed in warmth, still in Jason’s embrace, but on a bed. I pry myself out of his arms like I’m ripping off a band-aid and scoot to the edge of the guest bed.

“Parker?”

I pull myself inward, wanting to fold up and hide. I’m damaged goods.

He slides behind me and slips his arms around me. I cringe and tear myself away, my torso throbbing from the kicking blows.

“I’m sorry,” he says, frantic and edges next to me. “Did I hurt you?”

I ignore his question. “You didn’t have to stay.”

“I was worried about you.” His hands settle on his thighs and wounded eyes pierce me, slicing so deep it hurts more than my torso. 

“You can’t want me now. Not after…after
that
.” Tears well, waiting for release.

“Parker.” His hands cradle my face. “I don’t care what your father did to you. That’s not who you are. That’s who
he
is. You’re still the same girl with the beautiful smile I fell for two years ago.”

I grab his wrists. “I’ve lied to you. So many times.” The tears fall. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I told you I’m not the girl for you.”

“You didn’t hurt me. I’m just relieved to know what was really going on.”

I nestle into him, taking in his acceptance. He can’t learn about the rest of it. He can’t. “What were you doing here?”

“I came over to see if you wanted to go out tonight. I still don’t have your number and it’s not listed. I couldn’t stop fast enough when I saw your dad kicking you.”

I break away, remembering the dull thud of flesh hitting flesh. “My father…you…you…” I flounder. “He didn’t hit you, did he?”

“No. Andrew was right behind me. He pulled your dad away from you. I carried you over here.”

I want to tell him I know, but Rose comes in and interrupts. “What time is it?” I ask.

Rose sits next to me, setting her arm around me. “It’s dinnertime. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“Arissa is at Damian’s. Your father came over here drunk and we didn’t want her near him. Jason refused to leave, though.”

The crying begins anew. “I’m sorry.”

“Sweetie,” she says, wrapping her other arm around me, “you have nothing to be sorry for. You did nothing wrong.”

“I didn’t do what he told me to do.”

Her hand massages slow circles on my back, soothing me. “That doesn’t mean you deserve what he did to you. How long has this been going on?”

I shake my head and look away, wiping my face with the back of my hand.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. We’re trying to talk your parents into letting you stay with us, but they are being unreasonable.”

My heart stops and I stare at her, not believing what I just heard.

“Would you like that?” she asks.

A reprieve. “Please,” I beg. “I can’t go back there.”

“You won’t if we can help it. Why don’t you call Damian and tell Arissa to come home? I know she’s worried about you. Tell her Damian can stay for dinner. Jason, you too.”

“Okay.” My voice squeaks from the emotional overload. Jason isn’t running from me now that he knows part of the secret. The Jerichos want me to stay with them. They’re doing the opposite of what I thought they would do.

“Thanks, Rose. I’ll call my parents,” he says.

I call Damian from the guest room phone while Jason use his cell. I go through rounds of “I’m all right” reassurances with Damian and then Arissa before telling her she can come home. She gives me the okay to borrow some clothes before we hang up.

I change into a shirt and a pair of shorts, then splash water on my face in the bathroom to get rid of the dry, salty tears. The fresh clothes and clean face renews me for the moment and I head downstairs.

A scuffling outside catches my attention when I reach the bottom of the stairs. I glance out the window and Father charges the door, but Andrew pushes him away. Mother screams in Rose’s face while Rose stands undaunted.

I fling the door open, yelling with newfound boldness, “Stop it!”

My parents gape at me like deer in headlights.

“I’m staying with the Jerichos.”

Jason steps behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders.

“We’ll call the police and have them bring you home,” Mother says, her chin in the air.

“Then I’ll show them these.” I lift the hem of the borrowed shirt to show the bruises forming on my stomach. Rose and Andrew close their eyes. I stare at my father. “I will tell them
everything.
And this time, there are witnesses.”

The last thing they want is trouble or anything else that will crumble their facade. The threat of the police will keep them away.

He gnashes his teeth. “What do you want?”

“I want to be
normal
,” I reply, closing the door between us.

Jason wraps his arms around my neck, away from the bruising. “I wish I had known before.”

“I was too afraid to say anything before.”

“Why?”

“My father would beat me if I did. We had rules and before I met Arissa and her family, I thought all families were like mine. When I realized I was wrong, I just thought my parents were right.”

“How could you think that?”

Heat rises in me. It’s so easy for him to ask when he doesn’t know what it’s like. “You haven’t been in my shoes, Jason,” I say, my irritation growing with each word. “You don’t know what it’s like to be isolated from everyone to protect the secret. Always told how worthless and damaged you are.
No one
to tell you otherwise. As a kid, you think your parents are always right, because they tell you they are.”

“But they never acted like that with the Jerichos or they would’ve done something before now.”

“
Anything
to protect the secret!” I shout, throwing my arms in the air with abandon. He flinches at my response. “All the monsters are locked in the closets when outsiders are present. Once they leave, the monsters bust out of hiding. Back to life as usual in the Parker house. I never knew when the next beating was coming. You saw my father kicking me. That was a
good
day.

“He’s broken bones, shoved me to the floor, thrown me across the room, almost drowned me.” He winces, likely picturing everything, and I continue without mercy because I was never shown mercy. “Beat me with his fists, kicked me, called me every name in the book, told me I’m worthless, said I’m damaged goods. Shall I keep going?”

“At least you get to have a normal life now.”

“I’ve dreamed of what it would be like, but it’s not a switch. I can’t turn normal on and off,” I say.

“You’ll have more freedom,” he points out.

“Ah!” I scream, stomping up to Arissa’s room and slamming the door behind me.

Someone raps on the door.

Probably Jason wanting to work it out. “I don’t want to talk to you right now!” I shout, pacing the room.

“Sara, it’s Rose.”

I soften my voice. “Come in.”

Rose steps inside. “What is going on?”

“I’m mad. I’m frustrated. I’m confused. Most of all, I’m scared.”

“You have every right to be. Your world was just turned upside down and dumped in the middle of the street for everyone to see. But,” she says with a firm tone, “I will not tolerate you slamming doors in this house.” 

I stop pacing. “I’m sorry. Jason was saying things that made me mad.”

“He was only trying to help, sweetie.”

“But it wasn’t helping, Rose. I just got angrier.”

“Maybe we should look into therapy,” she suggests. “You’ve lived a lifetime of secrets that won’t go away overnight.”

Our attention shifts to a knock at the open door. Jason fills the doorway, hands in his pockets and head hanging. “May I talk to Sara?” he asks.

“Sure. Dinner will be ready in fifteen.” She pats his shoulder as she passes him.

“I’m sorry, Parker. I was being insensitive without realizing it.”

I sit on Arissa’s bed, keeping my hands clasped together. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“I did my fair share of pushing when you asked me to stop.” His hands wrap around mine and he squats in front of me. “I’m trying to process all this right now. You were like a rag doll on the ground when I drove up and I thought you were dead.”

“Be patient with me, please. Everything just changed for me in a flash and it’s a lot to handle right now.” 

“Anything you ask, Parker. Anything.” He cups my cheek with one hand, swiping a stray tear with his thumb. His other hand tugs me off the bed and into his embrace. I lay my head on his shoulder, allowing the tears to flow.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Rose and Andrew drop me off at Samantha Close’s office while they meet with the lawyers and my parents to formalize my guardianship.

While I wait, I picture her office with an old worn brown leather sofa for her clients and a wingback chair in front of it for her. Two walls lined with bookshelves, another with file cabinets and the last with her degrees and certificates above the sofa. A plain, boring office for a plain, boring therapist.

A young woman with long, dirty blonde hair hanging loose, wearing black pants and a white button down shirt, opens the door and calls me in.

Two framed degrees hang above her desk against the back wall. To the right of her desk is a floor to ceiling window; and a solitary four-drawer black metal file cabinet, along with a bookshelf full of books, is on the left. A circle of padded, metal-framed chairs fill one corner and a tray of sand sits in another corner. The wall next to the sandtray is lined with bookshelves packed with toys, games, puppets, puzzles, and dolls of all sizes.

“Hello, Sara. My name is Sam.” Her voice is light and she offers her hand with a radiant smile.

I take her hand and she gives a gentle, but firm squeeze before letting go. “Hi,” I respond shyly, making eye contact with her for a second. “Nice to meet you.”

Her hand sweeps around the office. “Have a seat wherever you’d like.”

I survey the room, tempted to sit on the floor with the toys because I never had my own. I decide on a chair, sitting with my hands squeezed between my knees. Sam chooses a chair next to me, spaced far enough from mine that I don’t feel too close.

“Do you have any questions before we start?” she asks.

I stare at her, dumbfounded. I get to ask questions?

She laughs heartily. “You’re not the first to be surprised at that question. How about I tell you a few things and then you can ask questions.”

“Okay.” My voice is meek with discomfort.

“This office will be a safe place for you. What we talk about, I have to keep in confidence unless you have a plan to hurt yourself or someone else; you tell me someone has hurt you; or I am ordered to in court by a judge.

“So no one has to know?”

“Unless it is one of the exceptions I just told you.” 

“Okay.” My muscles loosen and I splay my hands over my thighs. It’s like an official Secrets game. I can tell my secrets and she has to keep them. But I won’t tell her about the rapes or the pregnancy. That one is mine and mine alone.

“I’ve been in practice for four years. Before that, I worked in a psychiatric hospital for three years.

“Most of what will help you in therapy is your willingness to make changes, especially difficult ones.”

“How often will I see you?”

“I like to start with once a week. It all depends on your needs and what you are agreeable to doing.”

My knees fall open slightly. This won’t be so bad. “Will I have to take medication?”

“I prefer my clients not take medication if they don’t really need it.”

“How will you know if I do?”

“You’ll have symptoms that indicate you might need it.”

“Symptoms?”

She smiles and continues patiently. “Some of the symptoms will be physical problems you tell me about, almost like when you’re sick or injured. Other symptoms will be behaviors you exhibit. So, if I see a certain combination of these and if what we work on in sessions isn’t helping you when you apply it outside of here, I will refer you to a psychiatrist.”

“What’s the difference between you and a psychiatrist?” I lean against the chair back.

“A psychiatrist has to go to medical school and can prescribe medication. I went to graduate school instead of med school and can’t prescribe meds.”

“Why do you have all those toys?” I ask, nodding towards them.

“Ah, the real fun begins,” she responds, smiling. “I use those in sessions.”’

“You use
toys
in therapy?”

“They can help you express yourself or tell a story when you have difficulty telling me directly.”

We spend the rest of the session talking about my likes and dislikes and I’m laughing by the time Rose and Andrew arrive.

I can do this.

I take my empty plate and glass to the sink after dinner, turning on the faucet to wash them.

“Sara, sweetie,” Rose says. “Leave them. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

I return to the table and pick up the platter of roasted chicken.

Rose wraps her hand around my wrist with tenderness. “I’ll take care of the food and clearing the table.” Her smile that usually warms me, rubs me the wrong way.

“Hmph,” I grunt. I head for my room and curl up on the bed, hugging my pillow.

Andrew and Rose packed up my clothes and books and brought them over yesterday. I don’t have much, so my room still looks like a guest room. Purple bedding with white flowers. A small, white lamp on the nightstand next to a phone. A bare dresser, desk, and vanity.

The starkness doesn’t bother me because I’m safe now. Truly safe.

“Sara!” Arissa squeals, throwing herself on me.

I groan from the weight of another body on mine as the bed bounces under us. “Riss!” I roll out from under her.

She giggles and sits up, leaning on her hand. “Let’s call the guys and go out.”

“We have school tomorrow.”

“So? Mom and Dad will let us go.”

“Fine,” I say, giving in. It’s no use arguing with her.

The sun dips into the Pacific Ocean, painting a rust orange line across the horizon. I sit next to Jason in the sand, my arms pulling my legs into my chest. Jason’s arms rest on his bent knees.

I should feel the serenity I normally do when I’m with Jason, but I’m unsettled from Rose not letting me do dishes or clear the table. 

“How was therapy?” he asks.

I shrug. “Better than I expected.”

“What’s wrong?” He pulls my hair back and plants his hand behind me.

“Nothing.”

“Parker, I know you too well.”

I huff at being called out. I can’t lie anymore. Not unless it has to do with my father raping me. “I’m having a hard time.”

“With what?”

“Being normal.” I drag my fingers through the sand absently.

His brow pinches together. “I don’t get it.”

“I’ve spent my life following my parent’s rules and expectations. Now I’m living with rules and expectations that are almost the complete opposite and it’s frustrating.”

“You’ll get used to them.”

“Will I?” I snap. I rein myself in with a deep breath. He’s trying to be supportive.

“Your sense of normal is different from mine.” He plays with my hair then brushes his fingers along my shoulder. “I know Andrew and Rose expect a lot less of you than your parents did. I think it’s a good thing for you. You can stop being a pseudo-adult and be a real teenager.”

“I don’t know what to do with myself. My time was filled with chores, homework, and trying to avoid being beaten.”

He flashes a crooked grin. “You could always call me. You were never allowed to do that before.”

I smile and his mouth skims across mine, testing the water. He cups my jaw and I take in a shallow breath. Our lips searching, getting to know each other for the first time. 

Butterflies swarm through me and for the first time in my life, I feel alive.