Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

by Lisa Ann Porter

  Sable did not go to the opening; she wanted nothing to do with the Chadwicks and the press covering it. Instead, she went to the hospital and spent the day with Lorna. When Sable walked into the room, she could tell that Lorna was healing physically, but it was her mental health that concerned her most.

  “So,” Sable said as she sat next to the bed, “how are you feeling?” She asked quietly, taking Lorna’s hands in hopes of comforting her.

  “I’m fine Sable…just fine,” Lorna replied in a small voice as she looked out the window, lightly squeezing Sable’s hands. She appreciated the comfort; she needed it.

  With a faraway look in her eyes, Lorna told Sable how much her life had changed in the last couple of weeks. And Sable did not know it, but the pastor that she had seen in Lorna’s room was her real father. Sable was speechless. Lorna continued.

  “Sable, Nick wants to marry me.” Lorna didn’t sound excited about the idea. “I don’t know if I am ready for that.” Her voice was emotionless, her fingers slowly loosening their grip on Sable’s fingers, falling limply on her bed as if she lacked the energy to lift them.

  “Lorna? What else are you not telling me?” Lorna looked at Sable with the saddest eyes Sable had ever seen.

  “Sable, I grew up in a home with no love, no understanding. I was sexually abused by a man I thought was my father.” She laughed a little, but there was no joy in the sound, only sadness. “Sable,” she said so quietly Sable almost did not hear her, “my mother knew about the abuse,” Lorna revealed, as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Stunned, several emotions flickered across Sable’s face. “Lorna? Are you sure?” she asked incredulously, unable to process in her mind what she just heard.

  Slowly shaking her head yes, Lorna continued in a voice filled with so much pain that Sable’s heart ached, as tears clouded her vision. “Sable…my mother knew.”

  Turning her head toward the window, eyes blank to her surroundings, she spoke quietly. “She did nothing to stop him. And you know…every Sunday we went to church.” With sad eyes, looking toward Sable again, “I felt so dirty, so unworthy…” Her voice cracked, “I wondered what I could have done so wrong, that God would punish me in such a way.”

  Lorna’s voice trailed off in hopelessness. Wonderment. She looked away again, unable to meet Sable’s eyes for fear of what she thought she might see in them. Shamed, she spoke softly, “And all that time…while I was listening to Rev. Thomas…” unable to continue she cried silently, her body jerking from the boiling pain within clawing to get out.

  Sable sat in stunned silence. The tears that clouded her vision fell like a river down her cheeks. Reaching for Lorna’s hands, she held them tightly between her breasts. The sorrow and pain she felt inside for her friend shook her to the center of her being.

  “How could she, Sable?” Anguish filled Lorna’s voice, “How could my mother do this to me?” Sable had no answer. “She treated me like I was nothing.” Eyes pleading for understanding stared at Sable to explain, and then maybe, just maybe, it would ease the pain.

  “Nothing I did was ever right, Sable. I hate her. I hate what she let that man do to me.”

  Sable did not know what to say. Lorna’s mother knew! My goodness, what mother would allow her daughter to be abused much less sexually abused and do nothing?

  Sable knew Lorna had a lot to deal with, and marriage to Nick was not the answer. Lorna needed time to heal, not only physically, but emotionally as well.

  “Lorna, I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.” Crying openly, reaching over the bed, Sable hugged Lorna tightly to her. They both cried silently holding on to each other as if to let go would shatter them both in pieces.

  Finally, wiping the tears from her eyes, she lovingly cupped Lorna’s cheeks, wiping at her tears with her thumbs. “What are you going to tell Nick?” her voice barely above a whisper.

  Lorna, eyes red from crying, slowly exhaled, “I’m going to tell him no. I know that I love him, but I’m not sure that he knows what love is,” she said tiredly. “I’ve given Nick all that I can, Sable. I can’t give anymore. I’m tired, Sable…I’m so very tired. For my own sanity, I have to let him go.” She turned her head to look out of the window again, but saw nothing as silent tears clouded her vision.

  Sable understood. Nick was angry and selfish. It was always about him, and Lorna took whatever Nick dished out. Deep down, she was happy Lorna was going to break things off with Nick. Nick’s not going to like it one bit; she knew he was going to try to talk Lorna out of it.

  After all Lorna had been through, she hoped Lorna had enough strength left to break free of Nick. Nick had allowed his ex-wife’s treatment of him to spill over into how he treated Lorna.

  Lorna. The only thing she had done wrong was to love him. Because she did, he chose to treat her as his ex-wife treated him—with abuse. Taking for granted that love would always be there. He was wrong.

  Chapter 27

  Several hours after Sable left her bedside, Lorna sat contemplating her life. She was glad Harry was not her father; she hated him. He had taken her innocence, her childhood, her strength. She felt so empty inside.

  Everyone she’d ever loved had hurt her. Harry, whom she thought was her father. Nick, who always found fault in her, and her mother…her churchgoing, judgmental mother. Lorna hated her most of all. As Lorna was deep in thought…Jean Carter walked into the room.

  “Oh Lorna darling,” she squeaked, leaning over to hug her. Jean had never hugged Lorna. “How are you? I’m so glad that you’re okay.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she began to rub Lorna’s hair as if she were a child.

  “Get your hands off me.” Lorna said the words so quietly that Jean was not sure she heard her correctly. Pushing Jean’s hands away, “How dare you sit here acting like you care…get out….get out!”

  Screaming the words repeatedly, Lorna’s hysterical voice could be heard at the nurses’ station. Rev. Thomas, Dr. Reed, and Nurse North came running into the room just in time to hear more of what Lorna was saying to her mother.

  The venom in her voice coated the air in the room like thick smoke. “You,” she said, “allowed him to use me for years!” Crying, her voice cracking from pain. “You never did anything to stop him! You even blamed me for him not coming to you as a wife!” She screamed as tears rushed down her cheeks like rivers of angry waters.

  “You allowed him to sexually abuse me…while you verbally abused me…and now you walk in here like you care! Get out! Get out!” So hysterical her heart monitor started to beep faster, and faster. Seeing the veins in Lorna’s temples expanding, the doctor ordered Jean out of the room.

  Nurse North grabbed Lorna to silence her outburst, but she kept yelling for her mother to get out of her room. She yelled her hatred, and anger to the point of anguished violent tears. Tears that would not stop, even when Nurse North put her arms around her, rocking her as if she were a child having a bad dream. For Lorna it was more than a bad dream; it was a nightmare that she feared would never end.

  How could her mother, the woman who gave birth to her, who was supposed to protect her, who was supposed to love her, do this to her? Lorna was crying with such anguish; Nurse North started to pray right then and there, and dared anyone to object.

  This child needs God, she thought with absolute conviction. She needs to know that despite what she had to live through, there is hope in life. So Nurse North, who survived sexual molestation, only to marry a man who once beat her so badly both her breasts had to be removed; broke hospital rules, and risked public scorn, got on bended knees beside Lorna’s bed and silently started to pray. As far as Nurse North was concerned, God was Lorna’s only hope.

  She knew this because if it had not been for a late night televised sermon, she would have pulled the trigger of the gun she had pressed against her temples, when she heard a voice saying, “Don’t do yourself any harm. You are important to God. He loves you.”

  So surprised by what she had
just heard, her broken finger had eased off the trigger. She did not remember falling asleep in front of the television with the gun still in her hands. But she did remember clearly how she felt when her eyes opened the next morning. She had hope, and that hope had started her on a new journey. Life.

  Rev. Thomas, surprised by the nurse kneeling in prayer at Lorna’s bedside, was even more surprised that he didn’t think to do it first. Dr. Reed knew of Nurse North’s religious convictions and was not surprised; she openly lived as a Christian. He was a Christian too; he just did not bring it to work. He did not want to offend anyone.

  While Nurse North continued to pray, Dr. Reed made notes in Lorna’s chart. Rev. Thomas sat on Lorna’s bed, holding his daughter, and cried with her. He silently prayed…God…God…help me…help US.

  Jean Carter sat motionless in the hospital chapel. Every word Lorna yelled at her came to haunt her with all the dark memories of the past. She remembered hearing Harry leaving the bedroom in the middle of the night.

  She remembered hearing Lorna crying and pleading in an anguished voice, so small…chillingly frightened. Putting her fingers to her forehead, she tried blocking out the memories as she had always done, but they kept coming.

  She remembered putting her hands over her ears…telling herself that nothing was happening. She remembered the mornings at the breakfast table…Lorna looking devastated…Harry content.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, pressing her fingers harder into her forehead, a small cry escaped her throat. She remembered seeing the bloodstained sheet on Lorna’s bed…her virginity lost.

  She remembered the many nights hearing Lorna crying, pleading, and Harry grunting. She remembered. She remembered. And tears, crowding behind her tightly closed eyelids, silently eased down her taut face. She hugged herself and began rocking back and forth at a frantic pace. Where would she go for comfort? Richard?

  After what seemed like several hours, and Richard had not come to comfort her, Jean had to finally face the fact that she intentionally let her daughter be molested because she could not face her own fears. Because she could not face the truth, Lorna had to pay for her self-denial.

  She also could not deny that her anger toward Lorna, the morning in the bathroom, was because the look in Lorna’s eyes told Jean that Lorna knew that she’d known all along and did nothing. Not wanting to face that either, she blamed her daughter for the whole nasty sickness that went on in their home. At the time, it was easier that way.

  It all started when Lorna turned five years old, asking if she had a daddy. Jean found it easy from that point on to blame her daughter for anything that was not going right in her life.

  Jean Carter blamed her daughter for marrying a pervert, because Lorna wanted a father, who liked having sex with children. Jean knew it. She had always known. By the way Harry looked at children in the park, when they took Lorna there as a child. Jean chose to ignore it…after all…if you do not think about something…it will not manifest itself. Will it?

  Denial. Jean had gotten so good at it that she started to believe the lies herself. If Lorna was not doing something to make her life a mess, it was someone or something else. She was the victim! She had not, not intentionally anyway, every hurt anyone.

  Denial. It had cost Lorna her virginity and childhood innocence and Jean her daughter’s trust, love and respect.

  Jean looked up at the figure of Christ on the cross, and wondered for the first time how she could sit in church every Sunday and say that she was a Christian. In one brief moment, she got her answer. She wasn’t listening to the sermons…she was going because it was the thing to do. Everybody went…no one took this stuff seriously…did they?

  Then one morning in the pulpit, there stood Rick Thomas, her first love. He was a minister now; Jean had to prove herself worthy. So she joined the choir, the usher board, and worked on several committees. She even made sure that both she and Lorna dressed properly. No pants. All dresses mid-calve in length. He had to know that she was good enough. Good enough for him.

  Jean stared up at the ceramic-made cross, wondering what went wrong. She did all the things she was supposed to do…didn’t she? Sometimes, she had worked so long and hard to please Rev. Thomas; it was to the point of exhaustion. Many times, he would compliment her on the good work she had done. What else was there to do? She’d done all that she could, she thought in despair.

  Jean had lived in her world of denial and pretension for so long, that she had made it her truth and Lorna’s nightmare. Her truth…had plunged her into darkness. She had sacrificed her daughter. How could she live beyond this point? The pain was too much to bear.

  Looking around the hospital chapel, Jean wondered who would comfort her, as the tears continued to fall.

  Chapter 28

  Later that day…

  George Van Cleef had passed on the information he had gathered about the Chadwicks to a trusted reporter. There would be a press conference scheduled for later on in the day. Joseph Chadwick was in for a surprise.

  Walking into her father’s office, she found him doing what he seemed to be doing a lot of lately…staring out of the window.

  “Daddy…are you all right?” Sable sat in the chair in front of his desk. Between the mall opening and trying to be there for Lorna, she was exhausted, both mentally and physically. George said nothing for a while, just stared at her. The time had come for Sable to know the truth…all of it, he decided.

  Inhaling slowly, he turned away from the window. Walking behind his desk, he sat down wearily contemplating his only child. Sighing softly, she looked so much like her mother, he thought. “Sable, I want to tell you about your mother,” he said sadly.

  She said nothing. She had waited for this moment for a long time. In the past, whenever she asked about her mother, her father’s answers were always so vague, that she stopped asking. Feeling this was very serious, her father had a faraway look in his eyes she had never seen before; she waited patiently for him to speak. For the last couple of weeks he had been preoccupied with something more than the grand opening; she was sure of it now.

  Neither said anything for several moments. The silent ticking of the clock on his wall sounded like the chimes on a grandfather clock in the quiet office. Quietly, George began to tell Sable all about her mother. How they met and fell in love.

  Pausing, because the pain of remembering was as fresh as it was when he lived it so many years ago, he spoke quietly of the horrific death of his mother. Sable’s hands lifting to her trembling lips could not hold in her anguished cry.

  She watched as her father’s eyes unfocused, reliving the dark memories. His voice was even quieter, filled will awe, as he spoke of the day Sable was conceived, then the excruciating pain that ripped out his heart on the night that her mother died…his beloved Jennie. Taking a folder out of his desk drawer, George showed Sable a picture of her mother.

  Stunned. Sable’s mouth fell open when she saw the picture. She was the spitting image of her mother; this would explain why she would sometimes catch her father looking at her in a strange sort of way. She had so many questions, but her father was not finished with his story.

  “Sable…I loved your mother like no other. In fact…no other woman has ever captured my heart.” Tearful eyes gazed at Sable now, “Other than you.” His voice was quiet as he got up again and went to the window.

  She did not know she was holding her breath. She had waited so long to know the full story. “Daddy…I am so glad that you finally told me about her,” she said through tear-stained eyes. Her parents had loved one another, and her mother’s parents were against them, but they loved just the same.

  Blissful beyond belief, Sable’s heart sang with relief. She finally knew all there was to know about her mother. Questions that she had for years were finally answered.

  When George turned around to face his daughter again, he was greeted with a smile and tears, she was happy. She was about to come around the desk to hug him when the tone in his
voice stopped her.

  “Sable…I’m not finished,” George paused for a long moment, “…the man that killed my mother… your grandmother…is Joseph Chadwick…your mother’s father…your grandfather.”

  The picture she held so lovingly in her hands fell silently to the floor. Sable stood frozen in shock. No, her mind quietly screamed. She heard him wrong.

  Neither said anything for a few tense moments, and then glancing down, she saw the picture of her beloved mother staring at her. Bending down on weakened knees, she picked up the picture, dusting imaginary dust off it.

  Looking at her father, her eyes demanded that he recant that vile statement. Joseph Chadwick was not her grandfather! He was not! George said nothing. The look in her father’s eyes told her more truth than she wanted to accept. An anguished ‘no’ screamed out in her mind. She could not speak.

  Sitting down in the nearest chair, she momentarily closed her eyes. Slowly opening her eyes again, she looked at her father; she needed to know that she was not hearing things, but the look on his face told her that she was not. Joseph Chadwick…the man that she despised…had not only killed her grandmother and her mother, but also that monster was her grandfather.

  Sable sat in stunned silence. Just then the intercom buzzed; it was Betty announcing that Stephen Hart was waiting. Sable looked up at her father. “Daddy? Does he know?”

  “No, but he needs to hear what I did with the information you collected some time ago, remember?” She shook her head yes. “And you need to know how Stephen fits into all of this.” Before she could ask anything further, George told Betty to show Stephen into the office.

  Stephen was surprised to see Sable there. He had not expected it. What’s the matter with her, he thought. Why hasn’t she looked at him?

  Motioning for Stephen to have a seat, George got to the point. “Stephen, some time ago I acquired damaging information on Joseph Chadwick that’s going to come out in the news conference today…no, don’t ask how…just know that it will.”