Scarred Beautiful (26 page)

“You look wonderful, sweetie,” she says, her eyes brimming with pride. “Come, let’s sit.”

We grab a table by the window with a great view of the ocean. This was the perfect place for us to meet. She and I are very similar in that neither of us likes pretention. I may have a love for expensive things, but it doesn’t define me and I don’t flaunt it.

She reaches for my hand with a soft smile. “I’m so glad I got this chance to see you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot and decided we need to try to see each other more often. I love our phone calls but it’s not enough, you know?”

“I’d like that….” I pause, letting the warmth of her aura wash over me. “You look tired, Mom. Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course, sweetie. I’m just working a lot of hours at the salon and picking up some additional shifts at the restaurant to make extra money.” She takes a sip of one of the waters the waitress left for us. “I’m fine, though. Really I am.”

I hand her a menu and open one for myself. “So how long are you staying at Vivian’s?”

“Just until Sunday. Then I’m going back home. How is this conference of yours going and more importantly, how are you enjoying your new position as design manager?”

I close the menu, already knowing that I want the lobster. It’s kind of a no-brainer for me. “It’s good. I’m liking it a lot. The only part I don’t like, as you know, is the travel. But I managed to get through the flight okay, and the trip is going really well.”

“What was that?” she asks, a smile curving up one side of her mouth. “That little twinkle I see in your eye?”

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t ‘Mom, what are you talking about’ me. What’s responsible for that twinkle, or should I say who?” She taps her fingers on the table waiting for an answer.

“You’d never even believe it if I told you, Mom,” I offer, having a hard time believing it myself.

“Try me,” she replies, removing her hand from mine, crossing her arms and leaning into the table with interest.

“So I ran into someone at the conference. Someone who is Brad’s brother,” I say, trying to wipe the ridiculous smile off my face while I’m speaking, which is utterly impossible.

“Brad as in Gabby’s Brad?” she asks, and I can see the wheels spinning as she tries to put two and two together.

“Yes, that one. Well….” I let out a happy sigh. “I ran into him at the conference and we’ve been spending quite a bit of time together. I like him…a lot. Although.…” I know I’m starting to babble. “I’m leaving next week, so we’re just having some fun and enjoying each other’s company. It’s nothing serious because we don’t even live near one another and well, that’s that, really.”

She presses a finger to her mouth with a smirk while she nods her head, the words continuing to tumble endlessly from my lips.

“So that’s it. It’s nothing really, but he’s a nice guy and he’s…really changed my perspective in some ways.”

“Hmph,” she replies, “yes, it sounds like you really like this boy.”

“Mom, he’s not a boy, he’s a man,” I say, a fact I’m fully cognizant of, and my skin tingles with that awareness.

“Well, I’m delighted, honey. It seems like you might finally be ready to move on from Kyle, and while I know that was difficult for you, it’s time. You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you, Mom.”

The waitress comes over to take our order and we make it very simple for her by both ordering the lobster special with extra melted butter on the side. We hand her our menus and she walks away.

“Fran, I’m just fine. Work keeps me very busy and when I have time I see my friends.”

Another waitress stops by to place a basket of bread with squares of butter in the center of the table. I reach over to break off two pieces of bread, handing one to Mom first.

“Still the carbohydrate queen,” she teases, and I laugh at the truth in her statement. Give me pasta, bread, or rice any day of the week and I’m a happy girl.

“Mom,” I begin, wanting to gather my thoughts together so my words come out right, “I—”

“Oh!” she interrupts, “I almost forgot!” She reaches for her purse on the chair and digs through it for something, a huge smile appearing once she’s found it. “So my friend Vivian likes those knick-knack things and I was in the basement the other day going through one of the boxes and putting some aside for her when I came across something I thought you might like to have.” She pushes a zip lock bag across the table that’s filled with tissue paper. “Open it.”

I pull open the bag with both excitement and curiosity, taking a quick glance at her face but she gives nothing away. As I rip the tissue paper apart, something gold and shiny falls out and my green eyes fly up to the twin pair across the table. A lump forms in my throat and I close my eyes that are now filling with tears. She lays her hand on my arm as I clutch the precious object firmly to my chest, and the memory comes rushing back.

I turned nine years old today and I got to be with Mommy. She didn’t work tonight so we could celebrate with my favorite chocolate cake and fudge ripple ice cream. Daddy wasn’t there when I blew out my candles because he was snoring on the couch and he smelled really bad so I didn’t want him anywhere near my cake.

After I blew out my candles, I made a wish that Mommy would never leave me again, that she would stay with me and Daddy would be the one to go away.

She let me have two pieces of cake and three scoops of ice cream, and she let me finger paint with my ice cream when I was done. I kept leaping off my seat like we did at my friend Tina’s birthday party when we played musical chairs, peeking out to make sure Daddy was still sleeping. He would’ve been mad at us if he had seen the mess we were making. I didn’t like it when Daddy got mad.

“I have something for you,” she whispered, taking a small pink box with a matching bow from her purse and I perked up in my chair.

“Yay! A present! I love presents, Mommy!” I tried to keep my voice down because I didn’t want to wake up Daddy.

“Of course, baby,” she said with her pretty smile and her big green eyes. “It’s something special for my sweet girl. Go ahead, open it.”

I untied the bow and popped open the top of the box. Inside was a gold necklace with half of a gold heart hanging from a chain. “It’s so pretty, Mommy. But…where is the other half?”

“Right here,” she said, scooping her shiny, dark hair away from her neck.

I opened my mouth and a strange sound came out. “Mommy, you’ve got a half, too,” I said, so excited that Mommy also got a special necklace. “If we put them together we can have one big heart, Mommy!”

“That’s right, sweet girl. You see, you’re the other half of my heart, so even when I’m not right next to you, you’re always with me…and I’m always with you.”

“Oh, Mommy,” I cried, tears mixing with the chocolate on my cheeks while Mommy came over and hugged me so tight, I felt the other half of the heart beating underneath me. “I love it, Mommy. Can you put it on me, please?”

“Sure, baby,” she said, and she lifted my messy nest of hair and clasped it around my neck before letting it fall back over my shoulders.

“It’s so pretty, Mommy.”

“Just like you.” She looked over at me, smiling at the frosting in my hair and globs of ice cream on my pink shirt. “We need to go get you clean so you can be ready for school tomorrow.”

I hopped off my chair and ice cream dripped onto the floor as I looked around the corner into the living room. My tummy started to hurt and I felt like I might throw up. “Daddy likes to get my baths ready,” I told Mommy.

“Daddy is sleeping, sweetie, and you need to get clean. Come on.” She pulled on my little hand and I went with her, but I knew soon that I was going to be in big trouble with Daddy, and when we reached the bathroom, I started shaking.

I stood in the corner pressed against the wall while Mommy filled the bathtub up with water and strawberry bubbles.

When it was half-full she turned around to me. “Come here, Fran. Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes.”

“No. I can do it myself, Mommy.”

My heart started beating very fast and I wanted to run away, but I didn’t move because it felt like my feet were stuck in mud, and my fingers and toes felt weird, like someone was tickling me but I couldn’t laugh.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Mommy asked, and when I didn’t move she crawled over and kneeled in front of me. “You’re crying. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I couldn’t answer her because I wasn’t supposed to tell and now I wasn’t only scared for me, I was scared for Mommy, too. I just stood there shaking my head as Mommy wiped away my tears with her soft fingers.

“Let’s get you undressed. I think a nice, warm bath will make you feel better.”

I stared at the dust flying around the room and wouldn’t look at her as she lifted my shirt up, and that’s when I heard a scary sound come from Mommy’s mouth. It sounded like she had sucked in a big gulp of air or something and I knew she saw what Daddy did to me.

I felt her fingers touching my belly and it hurt because some of my boo boos were new but the band-aids had fallen off.

Mommy held my face and started crying hard. “Dear God, F-Fran…w-who did this t-to you?”

When I didn’t answer, she took my shoulders and shook me but it didn’t hurt. Mommy would never hurt me. “Baby, you need to answer me. Tell Mommy who did this to you.”

My eyes filled with more tears and I sniffled and wiped my nose with my finger…and then I whispered, “I can’t tell you, Mommy. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“Fran. I need you to tell me and Mommy promises you won’t get in trouble, okay? Do you believe me?”

I nodded my head. I did believe Mommy.

“So tell me who did this, baby?” she asked, and I noticed her lips were doing this funny quivery thing.

I leaned in as close as I could to Mommy and whispered, “Daddy did.”

Mommy pulled me into a hug on her lap and rocked me like when I was a little baby, telling me that everything would be okay now, that she would make sure of it. I cried with Mommy on the floor for a long time and then she got in the bath with me and we cried together some more.

Later that night, while Daddy was still snoring, Mommy and I snuck out in our pajamas and left him. It didn’t matter where we were going because I was with my Mommy now and together we had a whole heart.

When I finally open my eyes, my next words come out in barely a whisper. “That was the day you saved me, Mom.” Silent tears wade down my cheeks as I recall it once again. “I remember. You carried me out to the car in my froggy pajamas when it was pitch black and the moon was the only thing I could see, then you kissed my forehead and said, ‘we’re together, you and me baby, and we’re going to be okay.’”

Her tears are falling, trying to catch up with mine. “I wish I’d saved you sooner, Fran. I’m your mother and I should’ve known. I should’ve protected you. That’s why I was put on this earth, and I failed you.”

I’m so glad we’re finally talking about this, because throughout the years whenever I’d try to bring it up, she would avoid the subject altogether, the pain and guilt too much for her to bear. Maybe a small part of me blamed her, too. But I can’t let this go on any longer, let it rule her life any more than it already has. She’s lost so much.

I get up off my chair and crouch down in front of her, taking both her hands in mine. “Mom,” I say quietly, “you didn’t know. Dad made sure of that. And you were scared, I get that. I understand now and I don’t blame you. I forgive you.” I cup her wet cheeks, gazing into her eyes with intent. “I
forgive
you…and now I want you to forgive yourself.”

“Oh, Fran,” she sobs, gathering me up in her remorseful arms, squeezing me tight. “I love you, sweet girl, I love you so much.”

She holds onto me until the waitress comes over with our lobster plates and that’s when she pulls back. “Look at the two of us, we’re blubbering messes.” She drags a finger under my eye to no doubt wipe away my runny mascara. “We better get it together if we have any hopes of tackling these lobsters.” She laughs, and I laugh with her…and it feels good, like everything’s going to be okay. Just like she told me it would be.

After hacking our lobsters apart and devouring every last bit of meat on our plates, I pay the bill and we head out arm in arm into the sunshine. That’s when a brilliant idea strikes me.

“Mom, let’s go get pampered. Manicure, pedicure, maybe a new haircut, whaddya say?”

“Sure, honey. That sounds great, but don’t you have to get back?” she asks, angling her face up to absorb the warmth of the sun.

“No. There’s no rush.” Even though I’m anxious to get back and see Matt, this time with Mom is so important. “I want to check out some of those shops I saw on the way here.”

She stops short and I stumble backwards. “Francis Marie Heller, is there something you want to tell me?” she asks, as we come upon the Aston Martin and I suddenly feel like I’ve been caught sneaking a lollipop from the kitchen cabinet. “Whose car is this?”