by Jordan Marie
“I’m not warning you again,” I growl, stopping him before he calls Petal anything else. He shouldn’t even be able to say her name.
“You’re picking her over your family again. Wasn’t it enough that she ruined your life?”
“She didn’t ruin my life. You never understood that. It didn’t matter how much I told you, you never listened. Petal made life better.”
“She destroyed everything!” he growls.
“How can you say that? You son of a bitch! She’s never done anything to you. She tried like hell to fit in our family, but you never let her.”
“She’s a lying bitch! She trapped you in that marriage!”
“She gave me a son I love!”
“She destroyed all your plans! Because of her—”
“Because of her, I’m happy!”
“Bullshit. You’re just thinking with your dick.”
“I don’t have time for this right now. I’ve got a call I have to go out on. You need to leave.”
“Not until we talk—”
“We have nothing to say to each other. You would think you’d at least try to get along with the woman who gave you your only grandchild.”
“I don’t even know if he’s your kid.”
“Daddy? What’s going on?” River asks from the door.
Fuck. That’s just what I need.
“Nothing, son. Go back to bed. Daddy will be there in a minute,” I tell him, doing my best to keep the anger out of my voice. I’ve got my fists clenched in anger to keep from tearing my father apart.
“What’s Papaw Parish mean when he says I’m not your kid? You’re my dad.” River’s face is full of worry and confusion as he confirms my worst fears in that he heard my father.
“Papaw is just kidding, River,” I try again.
My father snorts in disbelief. If I can get River back to his room, I’m going to kill my father.
“It’s not funny,” he says, rubbing his eyes. I can see the tears even from here.
“No. It sure as hell is not. Come here, sport.” I kneel down so I’m more on his level. He comes running to me and wraps his little arms around me. I stand up with River hanging on to me. “You need to leave,” I warn the man who might have fathered me, but is someone I don’t even recognize these days. Maybe I never knew him.
“This isn’t over,” he growls.
“Damn straight,” I agree because I’m going to make sure he never talks about Petal like this again. He walks out, leaving the door open as he goes. I watch him walk away, and I’ve got a bad feeling about what just went on. I need to talk to Petal. We need to be prepared. I don’t know what my father can do, but I know him well enough to understand he’s going to try and cause trouble between me and Petal any way he can.
“Papaw is mad,” River says.
I hug him a little tighter, watching as my father squeals his tires pulling out of the driveway. “Yeah, son. I guess he is,” I answer. “I guess he is.”
27
Petal
Present:
“Ms. Parish, we need you to come to the school,” Ms. Selfmore’s voice drones on my phone while I’m driving.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, but I already know that. Ms. Selfmore never calls unless something is wrong—and that usually means River has gotten into trouble at school.
“It’s not something I wish to discuss over the phone. I will expect you here at two, which is our usual dismissal time, as you well know,” she says in that condescending tone she always uses.
That right there is just one of the reasons that I can’t stand the woman. It’s her tone, the things she implies, and how she never lets anything go. I was late to pick River up one time. Just once! I had a flat and was thirty minutes late. You would have thought I was more like a week late from the way she carried on. I want to put him in a private school, but honestly I haven’t been able to afford it. Still, the help and understanding he is getting with his ADHD has been ridiculous. They’re doing nothing to help him. Actually, I think there are times that they make him feel worse, maybe even single him out. I hope that’s not the case right now, but I have a bad feeling.
“I’ve been out of town, but I’m on my way back. I may be about ten minutes late,” I answer nervously, glancing down at the speedometer and pushing down a little farther on the gas.
“Ms. Parish, this is very important,” she snaps, like I’m not aware that anything to do with my child would be of the upmost importance. I really would like to claw her eyes out, throat punch her, kick her… something.
“I’m aware of that, Ms. Selfmore. I’ll be there as fast as humanly possible. My hus— River’s father will be there to pick him up. You can talk with him until I get there.”
“I’ve already spoken with Mr. Parish. He wasn’t quite helpful. I’m afraid he’s at home sick today. He has his mother picking River up and dropping him off today, because obviously, there is no one else.”
“Luka is sick?” I ask, alarmed, ignoring her barb about me not being there to take care of my child.
Luka and I didn’t talk on the phone last night like the other two nights I’ve been gone. I didn’t get in until really late, and I didn’t want to disturb him. We did text through the day, however. He never mentioned being sick.
I miss him so much so that I almost called him my husband when talking with Ms. Selfmore. Luka has never really stopped being my husband, not in my heart. Still, it’s dangerous to keep thinking along those lines. Luka has never mentioned how he truly feels about me, and as much as I want my family back, I can’t do this. I can’t go through this with our families again if he doesn’t love me.
I keep telling myself things will be different this time. That Luka and I have both changed, that we’ve grown up, that our families are less of a factor, that this time we can be stronger—I’ve said it all in my head over and over. The simple truth, however, is that I don’t want to be without Luka again. I can’t see him with another woman. I don’t want to lose him. I love him.
I love him more today than before.
“Ms. Parish? Did you hear me?” she asks, her voice filled with annoyance.
I didn’t. I completely spaced out, but I doubt she had anything of importance to say.
“I’ll be there when River gets out of class,” I answer, and this time I don’t bother to be professional and let my annoyance bleed through my voice.
I also don’t offer a goodbye; I merely hang up the telephone. Then without taking a break, I use my phone’s voice option and tell it to call Luka. The last thing I need to do is get in a wreck trying to dial the dang phone.
“Hello,” comes Luka’s voice, and it sounds soft and sleepy like it did over the weekend, but it’s also different.
“You’re sick,” I whisper, hating the idea of him not feeling good.
“Lo’? You on your way back home?”
“Yeah, I’m almost back. I didn’t know you were sick. You should have told me.”
“I just woke up this way. I think it’s just a stomach virus. Hopefully it will be gone in a day or two. You didn’t call me this morning.”
“I started moving early, I didn’t want to bother you,” I tell him, and I’m only partially lying. I had hoped he would call me last night. I know it was late, but I haven’t gone the entire day without talking to him since we started… whatever this is between us. I wanted to call him, but second-guessed myself and didn’t. I thought for sure he would call me this morning, and when he didn’t…
“I missed you. I would have called, but I felt like hell,” he responds, and his words make my heart swell. How can someone missing you change your entire day? I’m not sure, but it does.
“I missed you too. I wanted to, I just wasn’t sure if it was okay… I mean… Crap, Luka. I chickened out. This thing between us…”
“Is good,” he answers firmly, even if he is sick.
“Yeah, it is. I’ll stop second-guessing everything,” I tell him. I really hope I can
do that.
“I need to do some of that myself. I wanted to call last night, but you had been out to dinner with your friends and coworkers. I figured you were having fun, and—”
“I really just wanted to be back in the hotel room curled up in bed and talking to you.”
“I would have rather you were curled up next to me talking to me,” he whispers.
“Me too,” I answer, but Luka starts coughing, and I cringe at how miserable he sounds.
“I’m making you talk too much. I’ll swing by and check on you after I go talk to Ms. Selfmore.”
“The old bat called you?”
“Unfortunately.” I laugh. “You can let your mom know I’ll be picking River up.”
I’d call her myself, but we don’t really talk. I don’t have anything for or against her, not really. She’s been decent enough to me—in that she mostly ignores I exist. She’s good to River, so I try not to hold it against her that she was married to Satan himself. I figure if anything I have her to thank for the good that’s inside Luka—because he sure didn’t get it from his father.
“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding miserable.
“Just rest. I’ll take care of it. If you want, River and I could come by and… No… you should probably sleep and—”
“God, Lo’. Please come by. I miss you,” he says, and if it was possible, I think I could fly in that moment.
“See you soon,” I tell him, smiling into the phone. I might also speed up even more. If I get a ticket, at least there’s a good reason.
“See you soon, honey.”
I hang up smiling.
28
Petal
“You need to leave.”
“Isn’t that rich, coming from you?” Luka’s dad sneers. “This is my son’s home. I have more than enough right to visit. You are the trespasser here, Petal Lucas. You always were.”
“Luka said I could come by and get my things today. I’ll be gone soon,” I assure him, but I keep the chain attached on the door, not opening it up for him. I don’t want him anywhere near me.
“I know. He told me. You can’t imagine how thankful we all are to finally see you go.”
“I never did anything to you, Mr. Parish. I never have.” I’m tired of trying to defend myself. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s the monster here. I may not know everything, but I know more than enough.
“You are just like your mother. You tried to sink your claws into my boy, just like she tried with me. It didn’t work for her, though, and despite River’s existence, it won’t work for you, either. It took time for my son to wise up, but he has. You won’t get another chance.”
“My mother should have pressed charges against you!”
“Charges? What tales has that bitch been telling you? It’s all lies, and if you start spreading them, I’ll make sure you regret it! She was a whore, spreading her legs for every man who looked her way.”
“She didn’t for you. Not willingly!” I hiss at him.
He makes me sick. I’m used to the way people talk about my mother. My brothers and sisters and I have had to get used to that. Whatever mom’s faults were or are, she’s always been an amazing mother, and she has always put her children first. Still, maybe I shouldn’t have accused him like this. I don’t know completely if he raped my mother, but after some of the things he’s said and after seeing the way he treats me, I would be stupid not to suspect it. If you add in how unreasonable Mom is when it comes to Luka…
“You cunt!” he growls, and his hand comes through the small crack between the doorframe and the door before I even think or get the chance to slam it in his face. “Your mother lied. She wanted what I gave her, and I’ve seen the way you look at me, too. You’re a gold-digging whore just like your mother. If you thought you could make time with me behind my son’s back, you would. It’s all about the money,” he adds. He can’t get his hand in enough to choke me, which I think is what he really wants. Instead, he wraps his fingers in my hair and yanks it to bring my face closer. I resist and pull away. His hand remains, only it’s covered in a small bunch of hair he just tore from my scalp. Tears sting my eyes, but I do my best to hold them back. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“Not if I were dying and my life depended on it,” I declare proudly. He pulls his hand back. I think he’s about to slam both his hands into the door to break the small sliding chain. Before he gets the chance, I spit on him. “Get the hell away from here, or I’ll call the law to deal with you, and I bet that wouldn’t go over well for the next election!” I warn him before slamming the door.
He starts cursing. I hear him just as the door slams closed. I quickly turn the lock and then rest with my back against it, preparing for him to try and break it.
He slams on the door. I close my eyes as disgust, fear, and this sick feeling in my stomach all wash over me. There was a part of me hoping he could tell me I’m wrong, deny it, or make me believe he didn’t rape my mother. Instead, he’s just made me more certain.
“I am the fucking law in this town! You crawl back to that whore you call a mother and you stay away from me and my family! Do you hear me? You ever try to sink your hooks back into my son, and I will finish all of you!” he threatens.
After a few minutes, he gives up. Now, if I could just stop crying.
Present:
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my anger still close to the surface after dealing with Ms. Selfmore. The woman is just a bitch. There’s no other way to put it. Her very important issue with River was that he didn’t have his homework to turn in today, which admittedly is bad, but I still can’t believe it’s something the principal needs to involve herself with. When I asked how many other kids had she gotten involved with over lost homework, she gave me a song and a dance about how River was a repeat offender and a constant issue—which is not true. He’s had issues with his attention span, but he’s a good child. I just think that she doesn’t like me, and that’s bleeding over through her job.
I didn’t leave things on good terms with her when I left the meeting. I still haven’t made up my mind on if I want to take River out of school or talk to the County Superintendent. I want to talk to my sister about things. She knows the education system best. Maybe she can give me direction. Still, I have all of this running through my head. River is clearly upset, and I want to check on Luka. The last thing I need is to run into Luka’s father. I never want to on a normal day. The fact that I’m running into him at River’s school is even more worrisome. He has no business being anywhere near River.
“I was told that my grandchild caused trouble today at school. I thought I’d come down here and see what’s going on for myself.”
I lean down and pull River’s face close to mine, doing my best to keep the tension out of my voice. River doesn’t need that. He feeds from my tension and negative emotions. They make him nervous.
“River, I’m going to talk to your grandfather for a minute. Why don’t you go over there where the snack machines are and find something to eat? I’ll be right there,” I assure him, giving him a dollar.
“Can I have a cookie?” he asks slyly.
“If you have a cookie, you can’t have any of my fried chicken I’m making for dinner,” I warn him, knowing that chicken is his favorite.
“Man! Okay, fine. I won’t have a cookie!” he all but yells as he speeds off to the vending machines. I watch him go, take a deep breath, and then stand back up to look at the man who tends to terrorize my worst nightmares—for many reasons.
“No one should have contacted you. You have nothing to do with River. You and I have an understanding,” I whisper, keeping my voice down so that we’re not overheard.
“I warned you once before. My reach is all over this town. You should have never crossed me.”
“Luka and I are divorced. What more could you possibly want? I stayed away from him so he could do whatever he wanted in life.”
“It’s your fault he stayed ar
ound this small town. Yours and that child you try to pawn off as his.”
“Luka was free to take the training at Quantico. He was free to do whatever he wanted. I never stood in his way. And despite what you think, River is Luka’s! Nothing you can say or do will ever change that!”
“He didn’t want to leave his son. You see, Petal, unlike your mother, I raised my child to stand up to his responsibilities. He just never had the brains to see he should have never fooled around with trash. I had that flaw, too, but at least I had the good sense to scrape her off my shoe before—”
I slap him. I don’t plan it. It just happens. I do it without thought. He holds the side of his face and appraises me. There’s pure hate in his eyes, but also something else. I think maybe it’s interest, and that causes fear and revulsion to coil inside of me.
“You need to leave me alone. You got what you wanted. Luka and I are divorced, and we have been for a while,” I tell him, my voice sounding slightly unsteady. I don’t look at him—I don’t have the strength. I go to walk away, to get to my son and get out of here. He grabs my upper arm, stopping me and inflicting enough pain on his hold that I’m rooted in place.
“You have more courage than your mother. Maybe I should give you a whirl. Maybe then I would see what has my son all tied up in knots.”
“I would die first,” I snarl, keeping my voice as hushed as I can.
“That could be arranged, too,” he says calmly. Too calmly. He lets go of my arm, practically pushing me away. I stumble, but recover quickly. “Keep away from my son, Petal Lucas.”
“Is there a problem here?” This comes from Daniel, one of Luka’s deputies.
Mr. Parish looks over at Daniel, and instantly all the visible ugliness he wore and the hate he was showing me wipes from his face. He even laughs. The change is both miraculous and terrifying at once.
“No problem, Daniel. Petal and I were just discussing how best to discipline River for getting in trouble at school today,” he explains, the sound of his fake laugh still lying heavily in the air.