by Naomi Amanda
Seeing it as a chance, I snuck some food into my book bag. I grabbed two granola bars, two apples, a carton of fruit juice and any other snack I knew Susan would miss. Then I headed upstairs quietly, just in case she was in her room.
I was making my way to my room when I heard muffled voices coming from my father's study. I knew that I should have ignored the voices and gone to my room but I couldn’t help myself. It sounded like he was fighting with Susan and they never really fought. The fact that they had locked themselves up in his study to fight meant that Cody was in his room. So I silently stepped closer until I could understand what they were saying through the safety of the locked door.
“But your parents despise me, Andrew!” she exclaimed and I almost laughed out loud.
At least there was someone in the world who despised her. Not counting myself, of course. And at least she knew that she wasn’t loved by everybody as she pretended she was.
“Despise is a strong word, Susan,” my father retorted.
Silence.
“What I mean is,” he started again. “They don’t hate you. But I called them today and they want to see their grandchildren.”
“So we’ll take them another day,” Susan snapped.
“We spend every holiday with your parents.” His voice changed to something sterner. A tone I had never heard him use on her. “My parents want to spend one holiday with their grandchildren and I’m going to give them that. They haven’t seen the kids since Cody’s christening!”
I could feel a wave of various emotions wash over me. One part of me was happy that my father was finally standing up to Susan about something. Another part of me was curious about what it would feel like to meet my father’s parents again. I had been pretty young when I had last seen them. I didn’t remember much about them because Susan had made it impossible to meet them after Cody was born. And the last part of me was slightly afraid of the consequences. Susan always came after me whenever she was angry, making me her human punching bag.
“Are mommy and daddy fighting?”
I snapped my head around to catch Cody standing in the doorway of his room. His eyes were filled with worry and fear and I felt my chest ache until the voices stopped. Then my heart jumped to my throat. I was so going to get caught.
I quickly rushed to Cody’s side as quietly as I could. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into his room, shutting the door behind us. Then I sat him down on his bed and repeated reassuring words in his ear, praying he wouldn’t say anything about me listening in on their fight.
As if on cue, Susan burst into the room ten seconds later, my father behind her. I quickly stood up and faced her head on, as if I had done nothing wrong.
“Congrats on winning the election,” I told my father with a straight face.
The courage I had gathered to confront my father about not telling me the good news disappeared. It was replaced by the fear of getting caught for eavesdropping.
“Thank you,” he answered, unable to make eye contact.
“I have a few assignments to start working on,” I announced to no one in particular. “So, I guess I’ll, uh, see everyone at dinner.”
I sidestepped Susan and my father and quickly made it out of the room, my heart in my throat and my stomach knotted up. It was only when I was in the safety of my room that I felt at peace. I checked my phone, reading Laura’s message which said that her parents were okay with me joining them for thanksgiving. I replied telling her that there was a chance that we’d be going to my grandparents’ house instead of Susan’s parents’ house.
I was down to my camisole and biker shorts that I wore under my skirt when Susan waltzed into my room. Despite the fear that washed over me in that very second, I reached for my shirt when she shut the door. I knew what was coming next but I also knew that Cody was in the next room. Would she really risk him hearing her abuse or worse, walking in on it?
“I didn’t like your condescending tone,” she told me and I stared at her, confused.
I honestly did not know what she was talking about. I hadn’t even spoken to her since I had come home. All I had said had been spoken to my father. I had congratulated him and made a quick exit.
“What’re you talking about?” I asked her, hugging my shirt to my chest.
“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” she asked. “You didn’t mean to congratulate your father. You’ve been meaning to wreck his chances of winning ever since that Kendall boy came to town.”
She stepped closer and pushed me backward, making me stumble and fall to the ground. Luckily my floor was carpeted so it didn’t hurt so much.
“I haven’t, I swear,” I told her and I really hadn’t been meaning to ruin his chances to win.
I mean, what reason could I possibly have had to ruin it for him? And why were things circling back to Logan? I had made sure that we never met in public. We had only spoken during school hours and that was with a group of other people. We had only secretly met up at his house when his parents weren’t at home or at Laura’s and no one had ever seen us leave together. I had never gotten into his car. I had always made it a point to go in Laura’s car. Had she heard something about us being together during the dance?
“Although it doesn’t matter anymore,” she said, stepping on my hand.
I felt an excruciating pain burst through it and into the extremities of my fingers. Tears blurred my eyes as I looked up at her, my throat closing up. I wished I could scream but I didn’t want to scare Cody. So I closed my eyes against the pain while she put her weight on my hand but not enough to break it.
“He still won, despite your whoring around,” she continued. “Don’t think he loves you, kid. No guy can love a slut like you. All you’ll ever be to men is your body but that shouldn’t be a problem. After all, you’re following in your mother’s footsteps.”
I felt the strong urge to defend my mother. Even though I had never met her and even though I didn’t know what she looked like or who she was, I knew Susan was wrong. My mother couldn’t be what Susan had made her to be. Susan would never speak well of my mother. I didn’t know why. But I swore to myself that I would find out one day and until then, I wasn’t going to believe a word Susan said about her.
“You look like you have a lot to say.” She smirked. “Go on, speak your mind.”
“I’m not sleeping with Mr. Kendall’s son,” I deadpanned and it was the truth.
We had done nothing more than kiss and even that had been in limitation. Not because I was afraid of Susan. Not even because I wasn’t sure about my feelings for Logan. I was pretty sure that I was falling in love with him. I just wasn’t ready to take things further. Not when I had so many scars that I was afraid to show him. It wasn’t because I thought he would find them ugly. I knew that seeing the scars under my clothes would make him spiral out of his understanding. He wouldn’t be okay if he saw them. He would want to help and I knew where that would take him.
“Does he not want a slut like you?” she asked, bending over me.
She grabbed a lock of my hair and pulled it toward her while I silently prayed for her to let go. I didn’t try to hold back or pull away because I knew it would just hurt more. I waited until she was done, because I had nothing more to say. And she finally let go, making me hit my head against the floor hard enough to feel the impact even with the carpeted floor. I saw stars in my blackened vision and I tried not to groan in pain as she stepped away.
“Pick out something to wear that’s worthy of the mayor’s daughter,” she sneered. “We’re going to your grandparents’ house tomorrow.”
She left the room, shutting the door quietly so that no one would know that she had paid me a visit in the first place. I finally let out a soft whimper as I tried to pull myself off the ground. The pain in my hand flared as I tried to use it to haul myself up. I quickly cradled my hand to my chest, still on the floor but leaning against my bed.
I wanted to cry but I had no tears left. I couldn’t fee
l a thing, except the physical pain Susan had left me with. I stared into space, my hand still cradled against my chest and my mind swam. An image of Logan smiling filled my mind but this time, I didn’t feel my heart race the way it always had. Then I remembered Laura but I couldn’t feel the guilt I always felt when I hid things from her. I couldn’t feel anything at all and this time, I welcomed the emptiness.
Chapter 19
“Get in the car, baby,” Susan told Cody the next day.
It was already Thanksgiving Day and I was already dreading the one hour car drive from Northwynne to Essex. My grandparents had a small house near the river and even though I hadn’t visited them at all after Cody’s baptism, I still remembered how beautiful the town was. I remembered because I had always been so captivated by the simplicity, old-fashioned style and river front. As a kid, I had loved it and as a teenager now, I knew I’d love it more. Actually, I’d love any place if it got me away from Susan.
I waited for Cody to climb into the car before I started to get in, too. I had one foot in when Susan dug her perfectly manicured claws into my arm.
“You better not open that trap of yours,” she hissed in my ear. “If they find out anything about what goes on in this house, all hell is going to break loose.”
I clenched my teeth, trying not to let the reflection of the pain be visible on my face. I badly wanted to tell her that hell seemed like a better place to live in than with her but I couldn’t. Not just because I knew I’d get it later but because Cody was watching, an unreadable expression on his face.
“They won’t see a thing,” I said instead, forcing a smile.
She let go of my arm and I got into the car, giving Cody a reassuring smile. He continued to look at me, not smiling back and his expression blank. So I reached over and put on his seatbelt for him. Then I reached into my pocket to text Logan and Laura that I was leaving for my grandparents’ place.
One hour of stifling torture later, we had entered Essex. I felt my heart pick up pace – half fear for the approaching lunch and half excitement to see my grandparents. The town looked the same, pretty little vintage houses lining the streets and giving it an old-fashioned look. I kept my eyes glued to the window, wondering how nice it must be to live in such a town. Then my father took a left turn, turning onto the line of houses that were right on the river front.
When he stopped outside our grandparent’s vintage, blue and white house, we all got out of the car.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I asked Cody, pointing to the river.
“Yes,” he answered, his eyes shining. “I like this place.”
We watched the small stars of light dance on the river through the leaves on the trees, until we heard the front door open. Then I took Cody’s hand and led him up the stairs to where an elderly couple with greying hair stood, grinning.
“Cheyenne! Cody!” My grandmother beamed, holding her hands out for a hug.
I let go of Cody’s hand and let her engulf me in a hug before she bent down to smile at Cody. I went over to hug my grandfather, my eyes travelling inside to the house that looked the same from when I was nine years old. My father and Susan were already inside; her icy glare on him as if he had forced her into something she didn’t want to do.
“Well, aren’t you special?” my grandfather asked. “I haven’t seen you since you were born. How old are you now, son?”
“Eight!” Cody told him and I smiled as they led us inside.
“I made your favorite,” my grandmother told me as we sat down in the living room to catch up. “Well, it was your favorite when you were nine.”
“Cheese and garlic mashed potato?” I asked and she nodded, her eyes gleaming. “I still love it.”
I felt my stomach grumble at the thought of the food. I hadn’t eaten a good home-cooked meal for longer than I could remember. I barely got to eat three square meals at home and out of the two that I did get to eat, it was portioned for me. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had gone to my room stuffed with food. And on top of all that, Susan’s cooking wasn’t all that good.
“And I heard that you love spaghetti with meatballs.” She smiled at Cody and his eyes lit up. “So I made that, too.”
“Mom, that sounds delicious,” my father told her. “Thank you.”
“Thank her after you see the other dishes she made.” Grandpa chuckled whole-heartedly. “So kids, tell me about school, your hobbies, everything.”
“I’m in third grade,” Cody told him as if it was the greatest accomplishment. “I love drawing and playing hide and seek.”
“Well, I’d love to see your drawings the next time you come over, Cody,” grandma said with a warm smile.
I felt the anxiety from before slip away as it was replaced with warmth. I had forgotten how kind my grandparents were since I hadn’t met them in such a long time. And what made me feel even better was that Cody seemed to trust them and like them, too. He wasn’t always so carefree with people he hadn’t met or didn’t remember.
“I’m almost done with senior year,” I told them, praying they wouldn’t ask about colleges. “I’m the head of the cheerleading team and I like writing, I guess.”
“Writing?” they looked genuinely interested. “That’s something Cam-” she stopped midsentence.
I raised an eyebrow, willing her to continue but a warning look from my father later, she shook her head. I looked at my father who wouldn’t meet my eyes and then at Susan. She looked peeved beyond reason and I felt like my heart was being squeezed with worry. What had my grandmother meant to say? Why wouldn’t she complete her sentence and why did my father stop her? And most importantly, why did Susan look so pissed?
“I think its best we eat,” grandpa cut into the tension in the air. “Maria just finished cooking so everything is hot. Let’s continue our talk at the table.”
Everybody got up and I kept my eyes on my father and Susan. Susan seemed to be arguing with him about something in hushed whispers. I wanted to know what my grandmother had meant to say but I knew better than to ask about it. Nothing good ever came out of it. So I headed to the table, stopping short when I saw the number of dishes placed on the table. The sight of the stuffed turkey, gravy and cranberry sauce was enough to make me drool.
I quickly took my seat next to Cody and promised myself that I was going to eat until I felt too full to eat for the rest of the day. I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to eat to my heart’s content again.
Everyone silently took their places at the table which was already done up with the colors of fall. The plates were porcelain with orange, yellow and brown leaves designing them. The table cloth had cute pumpkins all over it and the food was already making me salivate and my stomach rumble.
We said Grace and then we passed around each and every dish until all of our plates were filled with food. No one spoke as we ate, the awkwardness surrounding us and making it hard to breathe. I tried to ignore it as I ate, just like Cody who didn’t seem to understand what had happened.
“Who still has space for pumpkin pie and ice cream?” grandma asked after she and I had collected and put the dirty plates in the kitchen.
“Me! Me!” Cody exclaimed and Susan looked at him, telling him that he could only have a small piece.
She was always trying to cook and bake him ‘healthy’ things and rarely ever let him eat a snack or junk food. She claimed that sugar was the devil’s poison. I badly wanted to roll my eyes at her as Cody’s expression faltered.
“It’s Thanksgiving. I think he can have a piece of pie,” I found myself blurting out without thought.
“Excuse me?” Susan asked, her cold gaze snapping in my direction. “He is my son and I don’t think you have a say in matters like this.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat and I swallowed against it. I was going to get it later. I mentally slapped myself for opening my mouth, while also wishing to tell her that I never had a say in any matter. It didn’t matter who in the family it was rela
ted to. I was never involved in anything and even the decision making conversations which were related to my life and future were not discussed with me.
“Cheyenne, would you help me get the dessert?” grandma asked and I followed her to the kitchen, happy for the diversion.
She quietly cut six slices of pie, all of them deliberately the same size. Then she placed them on individual plates and scooped vanilla ice cream on the top of each of them. She handed me a plate, her expression void of any emotion.
“I’m sorry that Susan is that way with you,” she said softly so she wouldn’t be overheard by everyone else at the table. “I don’t particularly like her, especially because of that bad attitude of hers.”
I felt an odd swirl of emotion in my chest and I had the strong urge to tell her everything that Susan had done to me. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed and I knew that if I told an adult, they would try to do something about it. And if she spoke to Susan about it, Susan would probably kill me.
Unable to deal with the emotions, I dug into the pumpkin pie. I shoveled several spoons of it into my mouth, trying to get it off my mind. She watched me in silence for a few seconds before taking two plates at a time to the table. I was done with my plate and kept it away by the time she had come in for hers.
“If you’re done, come with me,” she told me and I looked at her, confused. “I’m showing Cheyenne to the bathroom upstairs,” she called out to everyone else.
Where did she want to take me? And why was she lying to everyone?
I followed her upstairs in silence, confused and the nervousness making my palms sweaty. She stopped in front of one of the rooms upstairs and pushed the door open, beckoning me to enter.
“Sit.” She pointed to the bed and I did as she said. “I never did approve of Susan’s relationship with your father. She was a horrible young lady back when they started dating and she seems to have gotten worse.”