“Kate, this is Madelyn—”
“She knows who I am, Ruth.” Madelyn said dryly. She didn’t care much for Kitty Kat Kate, after their one date together.
“Oh, uh, of course. So then, Kate, who is your lovely date?” A new notch for your bedpost?
“This is my beautiful young daughter, Cathy. Cat, these are my friends from work, Maddie and Ruth.”
“Oh…, Cat?” Ruth said, and then prayed, oh please, Lord, take that joke from my lips, before I bite my foot off. “It’s nice to meet you, um, Cat.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
“I’m sure you’re a chip off the old block… uh, I mean young block.” Ruth chuckled.
“Lord, I hope not.” Kate exclaimed.
“Well, I do draw the line at animals.” Cathy joked, to which Kate swatted her on the arm.
“Well you two enjoy your dinner.” Kate said, as she turned her head and winked at Ruth, who blushed instantly. Then they walked over to their table and sat down, still within Ruth’s vision, but not Madelyn’s.
“God, what kind of woman is that?” Madelyn asked snidely.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s raising her child to be just like her. She should be ashamed.”
“I don’t know, I thought they were cute together. Cathy has a wicked sense of humor.” Ruth said with a smile.
“Exactly what I mean.” Madelyn stated.
Ruth looked over at Kate, and when their eyes met, Kate pulled back her shoulders, and pushed up her breasts. Ruth choked on her laughter, and spit out her drink, all over Madelyn.
***
Samantha put on a robe and walked into the kitchen. Tears streamed down her face, as she pulled out a butcher knife from the drawer. The light glinted off its tip, when she tilted it back and forth, examining it closely. Her heart tried to convince her that she wanted to do it, but her mind was telling her heart not to. She grabbed a can of beer from the refrigerator, and with the knife in hand, walked into the living room, and slouched on the couch. Fighting the suffocating loneliness that pressed down on her, she thought about her attempts in captivity, to take her own life. After a few rapes, and several beatings, she had tried to end it all, to end her unbearable suffering, but something inside of her willed her to live. Much like the Scarlet syndrome, Samantha had the gift of being able to push something to the side, to think about tomorrow. After all, tomorrow was another day. But now that she was safe from the torture, was her will still strong enough to save herself? I don’t think so.
After giving it more thought, Samantha laid down the knife, and went into the bathroom. Reaching into the medicine cabinet, she searched until she found a bottle of pain killers, Aidan had left over from her surgery, when she was shot a few months ago. Though Samantha didn’t know the reason for them, she didn’t need to. Thank you, Aidan, this will do just fine. Taking her beer and the bottle of pills into the bedroom, she sat them down on the nightstand, disrobed, then pulled back the sheets and climbed into bed. Emptying the bottle of pills into her hand, she reached for her drink, but her hand found the envelope Aidan had left, instead. Curiosity suppressed her other thoughts, so she opened the envelope to find photographs of her baby. Adorable pictures of the preemie smiling, sticking out his tongue, and blowing bubbles. Samantha dropped the pills and clutched the photos to her chest. Any thoughts of suicide had been completely forgotten.
***
“Lucy, I’m home,” Aidan’s Ricky Ricardo imitation was only slightly worse than her Elvis impersonation, which left a lot to be desired in its self, but she didn’t care, it was fun.
“We’re out here, sweetheart,” Vicky and Jerry sat on the balcony, enjoying the warm southern breeze that stirred the Gardenia plants below, sending up a pleasing fragrance. Vicky had her usual glass of wine, and Jerry was drinking a beer. Aidan grabbed a beer from the hotel’s mini-bar, and joined them on the balcony.
“How did it go? Are you okay?” Vicky could see how worn down Aidan looked, and thought that it must have been an ugly breakup, if the forlorn look in Aidan’s eyes was any indication.
“It went about as expected. She hates me,” Aidan took a swig off of her beer.
Jerry offered, “She’ll calm down and come to see it’s for the best.”
“I hope you’re right, Jer. I really did not like doing that to her. I left some photos of her baby with her, I hope that comforts her a little. I mean she was held captive for a year, only to have me dump on her too. I just hate myself as much as she does right now.” Aidan took another gulp of her beer and sat back, dejected.
“Aidan,” Vicky said softly, “it’s easy for me to say this now, but if it had been me, you were breaking up with, I would have wanted to know, so that I could work through my feelings, and find a way to forgive you. You did the right thing. Now she can begin to heal and get on with her life.”
“I know you’re right, Vick, but it still feels lousy just the same.”
“Okay honey, you feel lousy, we understand don’t we, Jerry?” Vicky wasn’t trying to make light of Aidan’s torment, she was trying to assure her that she was not alone in this, that her friends supported her.
“Yeah, been there, felt that. But it does get a little easier, Sarge. Especially when you’ve got Scrappy over here. to look out for you,” Jerry winked at Vicky, who smiled back at him.
Aidan intertwined her fingers with Vicky’s, and rested her cheek on the top of her hand, as if she were drawing strength from it.
Vicky’s heart ached for the suffering Aidan was going through. She leaned close to her, and said softly, “We will take care of her, Aidan, until she can take care of herself. She will hurt for a while, and so will you, but together, we’ll see it through.”
“God, I love you so much, Vicky.” Aidan kissed Vicky’s hand, warmly, then her lips, tenderly.
“All right you two,” Jerry jested, “get a room already. Oh wait… never mind.”
Vicky laughed and swatted his knee, and then turned back to Aidan, “Sweetheart, why don’t you come with me today? I need to check on my parent’s house, and a long drive in the country, might do you some good.”
“Sure, I’d like that. It’ll be a nice trip down memory lane.”
“Okay then. And maybe we can all get together tonight for a pizza and a movie or something. Jerry, will you be all right here by yourself for a few hours?”
“Oh sure, Vicky, don’t worry about me. The doctor said I can go back to work in a few days, and I am absolutely pain free, so I’m good to go.”
Vicky looked at him knowingly.
“Okay, maybe not 100% pain free, but I’ll be fine. Go, have fun, and Aidan, watch out for that memory lane thing, it tends to bite you in the butt when you’re least expecting it.”
Chapter 6
Thomas Wolfe wrote a book in the nineteen-forties called, You Can’t Go Home Again, which most people today know as a wise old saying. But that saying, when taken out of context of the book, is completely wrong. You can re-experience the moment, whether good or bad, and in that moment, bring back the joy, or the horror, that was experienced during that time. Sometimes, it’s not good to go home again…
Walking into the Montgomery’s house, the first thing Aidan focused on was the old recliner, sitting in the corner. She walked over and removed the plastic that covered it, and put her hand on the head of the recliner, as if to say hello to an old friend.
“Aidan, you were just here a couple of months ago, helping my folks get moved, why are you acting like you haven’t been here in years?”
“Because your mother was here then, and I was too, uh, concerned with her, to let myself remember things. Now, I can, and I’m enjoying the memories.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Well you go ahead and remember those happy memories of us as children. I know I do, every time I walk in here.”
“Hey! Remember this?” Aidan excitedly pointed out a stain on the arm of the recliner. She laughed, remembering that she was th
e one who had caused that stain with her cinnamon sucker. It was one of those nights that Aidan was sleeping over, and they had snuck back up after Vicky’s parents had gone to bed. They wanted to watch a scary movie, but instead, fell asleep in the middle of it. Aidan had curled up in the recliner and with her sucker still in her mouth, fell asleep on the arm of the chair. The combination of drool and sucker left a nasty stain on the fabric. The next morning, though Aidan frantically tried to clean it off, nothing would work. She remembered trembling in fear of the repercussions, but Leonard shrugged it off, and cleaned it as best he could. He tried to placate Aidan, but an abused child feels that in order to be forgiven, they must be punished first. Only then will they trust that their infraction has been purged. As it turned out, Alice wasn’t as forgiving as Leonard was, and she did punish Aidan. She forbade her from ever sitting in that chair again. To her way of thinking, the chair was ugly enough already, she didn’t need Aidan adding to it.
Looking around, Vicky noticed the photo album was open on the coffee table, with several pictures missing from it. She figured her mother was probably doing something with them. She looked around and noticed that everything else was as it should be in the living room. Vicky knew that her mother had brought her jewels with her, but except for their clothes, that was all they brought from here. Her parents had only planned to stay at Vicky’s house for a few months while she was in Syria, but then Leonard had a heart attack, and Vicky hoped to keep them there at least another month while he recuperates. Longer, if she can convince them to stay permanently. So Vicky decided to pack a few things up, to take back to them, hoping that would make them feel more at home.
Walking into the bathroom, Vick gasped with shock. The medicine cabinet was open and its contents strewn about on the counter below. “Aidan,” she called, “someone’s been in here!”
“Someone’s been in here too, Vicky,” Aidan called back. Vicky joined Aidan at the pantry in the kitchen, and saw that it also had been ransacked.
“So they went through the medicine cabinet and the pantry. What were they looking for? Drugs and green beans?”
Aidan pointed to the empty wine rack, “More like drugs washed down with wine.” She wiggled the door handle to the back door in the kitchen, and said, “This is how they got in. The lock has been jimmied. I’ll replace that before we leave today.”
Vicky and Aidan walked down the hallway, toward Vicky’s bedroom, where she stopped in front of the door, and looked at Aidan with a sheepish grin. “When you were here recently, you didn’t get to see my room, because Mom had you busy with covering everything in plastic, and storing stuff in the garage, and things like that. So, let me warn you now, my mother turned my room into some kind of time warped shrine.”
“Oh! Let me in, so that I may worship at your shrine.” Aidan teased.
“Oh you gobber.” Vicky stood to the side, and let Aidan walk into the room first. A flood of memories rushed over her. The room looked like a teenager lived in it, and fifteen years ago, a teenager had. Aidan still remembered the pink canopy bed, and the matching vanity table with the larger mirror. Smiling, she remembered how Vicky used to put a pillow case on her head and prance around like a model. Aidan would play photographer, posing her subject, encouraging her to pout, smile, and make love to the camera. What Aidan wouldn’t give to have had a real camera back then.
Looking around the room, Aidan marveled at the things she had missed when Vicky was a teenager. Pom-poms lay on top of the dresser, posters of movies and rock stars, adorned the walls, and stuffed animals filled the corners of the room. Aidan pulled out a high school album from the bookshelf and looked for Vicky’s picture. As she thumbed through the book she found a photo of Vicky as a cheerleader, waving her pom-poms on top of a human pyramid. God I missed so much of your life.
“It doesn’t look like anything’s missing from my room, not that it would have been any great loss if there were.”
“I disagree. I would have missed this gem,” Aidan showed her the photo and grinned.
“Oh gosh, that horrid thing? I was so fat back then, and very awkward.”
“Well, I think you were adorable looking. Can we bring this back with us?” Aidan was serious; she wanted to know more about the life she missed with Vicky. And though Vicky didn’t know her reasoning behind wanting an old school album, if Aidan wanted to have it, that was all that mattered.
As Aidan fixed the lock on the kitchen door, Vicky filled up a box of things she wanted to take back with them, and soon they were ready to leave. They piled the box in the trunk of Aidan’s Mustang, but just as Vicky opened the car door, Aidan walked over to the tree house in her back yard, and Vicky followed her.
The tree house, built by Aidan and Vicky as children, represented not only their childhood, but their coming of age. The small makeshift hut, with a large tree limb protruding through it, looked like a castle to them back then. Now, it was falling apart, but still sturdy enough to hold a distraught Aidan a few months ago, when her childhood memories came rushing back.
“Want to go up?” Vicky asked to which Aidan shook her head no.
“I’d probably get stuck up there like you use to do,” she laughed.
As she turned to leave, Aidan looked at her old house. A house that was already falling apart when she was a child, now, like the tree house, it was completely dilapidated, with broken windows and unhinged screen doors. That house was never a home for Aidan; it only represented pain and tears. Still, she found herself going inside for one more look. A last look, as it were.
When they were kids, Aidan would never allow Vicky inside the house, but this time, Vicky didn’t asked, she just followed her through the door. The first room they came to was Aidan’s bedroom. A small room in the back of the house, it had an even smaller bed, with a ratty looking bedspread on it. There was a dresser that needed varnishing, and curtains that were torn, and falling off the rod. The carpet was mildewed and thinned with age.
“The weather sure has taken its toll on this room,” Vicky said innocently.
“Uh, Vick, this is how my room looked when I lived here,” Aidan replied flatly.
Vicky gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. “My God. Are you serious?”
Aidan nodded her head, then walked over to her closet and rummaged through the clothes still hanging on the rod, while Vicky looked at the few comic books that lay on top of the dresser. Underneath the comics were a couple of photography books that Aidan had borrowed from the school library.
Aidan knelt down beside the bed, and ran her hand up under the box springs, “There was one thing I forgot to get before I ran away from home. I wonder if it’s still there?” She pulled out a cheap, James Bond wrist watch. Aidan thought it was the coolest thing she had ever owned. She won it at the county fair one year and only wore it at school, then hid it the rest of the time, to keep it safe. Now, the watch was faded with age and had long since stopped working.
“Your watch! I had forgotten all about that thing. Does it still work?” Vicky asked hopefully.
“Nah, it’s trash now, I guess.” Aidan replied halfheartedly.
Vicky took the watch and examined it, “Why don’t I see if it can be fixed,” she offered. Aidan shrugged her shoulders, so Vicky tucked it in her jeans and they left the room. Walking into her father’s room, Aidan told Vicky how he would never allow her in there, but of course that only encouraged her to sneak in. Looking around, she found old porn magazines, a whip and mask, and a pair of handcuffs, tucked away in the corner of the closet. Vicky sneered at the sex toys, and turned her attention to the items lying on the dresser. It looked as though everything had been left behind. As if Harold made a hasty retreat.
“Do you think he left in a hurry?”
“Probably so, after he raped you…, oh shit!” Aidan stopped suddenly, realizing that she had brought Vicky into the very house that she had been raped in, “Oh shit, oh shit! You can’t be here!” Aidan grabbed Vicky’s arm to pull her out.
But Vicky pulled back, thinking that she was ready to face her demons. She put her hand on Aidan’s arm and said, “No, I need to do this, Aidan. I need to have some closure.”
Damn it! I’ve just brought her into the very thing we were trying to hide from her. Oh God, please, don’t let her remember that he’s still alive!
Before Aidan could protest, Vicky walked into the living room, and looked at the place by the front door, where Harold had held her down. Suddenly the room became claustrophobic, and her head began to spin, as she remembered struggling, screaming, begging to be let go. Feeling like she was going to suffocate, Vicky gasped for air, and ran from the room.
Aidan caught up to her outside, and Vicky flung herself into her arms. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry,” Aidan said, holding Vicky tight as she sobbed on her shoulder, “God, I’m so sorry.”
On the drive back to the city, Vicky was understandably quiet, and Aidan overly worried, “Are you okay, kid?”
“Yes, I’m sorry about that, it was just too much, you know? I didn’t expect it to be so hard.”
“Did you…,” Aidan didn’t know how to ask her question without giving away anything, but she had to know if Vicky remembered the session with Dr. Kline, “did you see your nightmare?”
“No, not at all, thank goodness. I don’t think I could have handled that too.”
Relieved, Aidan asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I just couldn’t breathe in there, that’s all,” Vicky replied.
“Baby, what was it like…, for you, afterwards?”
Contemplating how she should answer Aidan’s question, Vicky first asked, “If I answer you, Aidan, will you promise me you won’t take on the blame?” Vicky knew that Aidan felt guilty by association, she always had, and since Vicky couldn’t convince her otherwise, she didn’t want to add to that guilt.
“Sure, I promise.”
“No, I mean it, Aidan; I’m not going to talk about it if I think for one instant that you—”
Remember, You Love Me: Little Girl Lost Page 9