Jackie scrunched up her lip, eyes rolled back and forth searching her mind, thinking, examining her feelings and as she'd always been, was the same right then, perfectly honest, "Yes, okay?"
"Mom!"
"Do you want me to lie to you?!" She huffed.
"Yeah mom! For the sake of how I see you, yes - lie to me! That's not nice! Don't be jealous, aren't you happy? I thought you loved Evan?"
"I do - but - well, it's nothing - you're not a woman, so you can't understand!"
"So you don't like her?"
"Yes, she's nice - I do like her - yes I do, but still - she got him! How in the hell did she do it!?" She was mildly baffled.
"Mom! Listen to you! Cut that out, right this minute! I don't like it! Be - have!"
She giggled in her cute way, looking duly chastised, rolled out her lip, and hugged her son, "I know, I don't mean to think like that, but I just can't help it. And you're right, he probably won't cheat." Her eyes gave her away, she giggled again because she could tell by the look on her son's face, he didn't like it or believe her right then.
"Paul! You're such a stick in the mud! I'm still a woman! I still think like one! I still see your dad as the big one that got-a-way! And I dare any woman, who once really wanted him, to stand and say, she doesn't feel just a tiny bit of - of - envy - that she got him instead. But I'll only admit that to you, promise."
All he could do was shake his head, leave the matter at that and load up the truck; his father was letting him use it to pick up some things; he was out of town, would be home that evening. Last trip back in, he called to his mother on the way out, "All right, this is it, come give me a kiss, behave yourself now that I'm not around to keep you in line." He tormented gently, meaning well.
"I'll be oh so good, in fact, I'm going shopping to buy them a wedding gift, something really nice for their home, what does she like?"
"Antiques, old stuff, French - Victorian - paintings - nothing modern."
"Hmmm, okay - I'll look around, get them something really nice, now get - take good care of her, show her what a man I've raised." She winked.
Paul dropped his last box on the floor, and gave his mother a double arm hug, picking her up to him, "I love you mom, Jackie number one. You'll always be my first lady - know that right?" he asked, holding her up.
She grabbed his head, laid a motherly kiss on his chops, couple of slaps to his head, "Yes, of course - bet that's what you say to all the Jackie's you fall for!"
He laughed, put her down, grabbed up his box and headed out; from the truck, he waved and took off. He was excited, the prospects of living with his father and Vivian made him feel good. For one thing, he'd soon have a car. That old Volkswagen that was in his father's garage had been given to him, he'd been buying parts for it to get it running. Between his grandfather, Vivian and his dad, it would be on the road soon. She was something else, Vivian. There was no reason for her to give him what she had, but every now and then, a delivery would come for him, it would be a new part for the car. His dad would make a face, and then turn to look at her. Yes, she was special. One would think she'd put herself first in wanting the car for her own use, instead, she was coming out of her pocket to get him what he needed, so was his dad and grandfather. He supposed if he hadn't been sending so much money to Jackie, he would have had enough, but he'd been forced to make sure, she could get a divorce. His father, and grandfather, thought he was socking the money away for college, if they knew the truth, they'd probably hit the roof. After all, he was sending money to a women he hadn't heard from since they'd left Chicago, that was over two months ago. He just hoped that what all thought, wasn't true, that he was being a young, romantic fool in love. He wasn't going to start thinking negative, he wasn't going to start having his doubts; some how, some way - Jackie would end up with him, and they would marry. They didn't know her, like he felt that he knew her - time would tell.
* * *
Victor was finally back to work; had been back a month now. Because of the time he'd been off during the recouping of his injuries, even with sick pay, he couldn't afford to take any more time; which meant he wouldn't be attending Jake and Vivian's wedding with Crystal. Not that he would have anyway. She didn't push him to ingratiate himself into the McPherson clan and he'd given up on trying to get her to break away from them. Any attempts to try and get her to cut them out only ended up in silence between them. She wouldn't fight with him over it, but neither would she give in - with the family arrangement, they gave up on trying to reach an agreement. Then there was the talk of them remarrying that kept coming and going - neither one in truth making an extreme issue of scheduling ia date to do it all over again. The few times Victor had asked what would be the best time, she'd always answer - "Let's face it, we can get married any time we want. Let's just wait until we're in a good place to make it happen again this time." She'd answer. Victor would look at her strangely, with a dull flatness in his eyes, "That the only reason, you don't want to?"
"You know what it is?" She asked growing exasperated, "...every time I give it a thought, I have to ask myself, whose gonna come? Whose gonna bother? And if by chance some do come, what are they gonna be sitting there thinking?"
"So let's just go to the justice of the peace, like before."
"I don't want to marry that way again, no. Once I convince myself that it doesn't matter what they'll be thinking-..."
"What? What are they gonna be thinking?"
Crystal sighed as if trying her best to be patient with him, "Victor ..... come on, you know what! It was a mistake the first time, why do it again!" She huffed.
"No - it wasn't a mistake."
"It was, but - we have two little boys to think about."
"Exactly..." He stared at her a moment, thinking, "You really don't love me the way you used to, do you? You really don't."
Hearing those words, in his tone, made her feel like she was betraying him and her own declaration to do all she could for them to make it. Yet, she knew, if that were true, she'd give him a date, so they could get married again - but she couldn't get her mouth to form the words to placing a date to get it done. The declaration she'd made to herself was proving to be easier said - declared, than done. As for Victor, in order to keep the peace and them growing together, Victor brought it up less and less - until he stopped all together asking. Both had their own reasons for avoiding the truth of what existed between them, for their own reasons - Victor's - his mother. Walking away, would make her right - accepting what he was dreading would make his destroying his parents home and marriage, done all in vain - no - it was too much to bear - he would make it work, if it was the last thing he did.
As for the boys, even though she'd made an effort in keeping them; Isaac would not bend, he would not give his father a chance to bond with him. He simply went quiet, did what he was told, but there was no open, loud, playful behavior one would expect from a little boy in their father's presence. Darren stuck to Crystal; while he would talk to Victor and even laugh at him now and then at the things he did trying to play with him, he would not under any circumstances, however, be left with him without a fuss - he always threw a fit. They went from having the boys full time at home, to slowly letting them stay back by her moms. If Sylvia and Shawn didn't have them, their other grandfather would try to have them for the day. That hadn't gone well at first, but Percival was not going to give up - he wanted his grandsons to know him and the woman he would soon be marrying not long after his divorce was final from Natalie. In the meantime, they needed to remember their aunts and uncle - so he picked them up from Crystal or Sylvia's once a week, consistently. His determination was paying off, the boys were responding to him, much better than they had with their own father; to the point that he would be keeping them the night of the wedding and reception - so that Crystal could freely enjoy herself.
Crystal wasn't sure if she would be able to enjoy herself. She wasn't feeling well; and so Sheila, who was there with her boys staying wit
h Vivian up to the wedding, while Dennis would be coming down soon - thought she might have the flu bug she had, saying to her, "Chile I'm telling you, I was sick as a dog with that; I thought I was pregnant, for real - had me feeling that way, you sure that's not all it is?"
"I'm over a week late."
"That's why I thought I was pregnant, I missed it 3 weeks in a row - was about to find out, woke up, my period came on. Bad colds, viruses, all kinds of things can throw your cycle off." Sheila advised her.
Crystal didn't think that was her case, she was pregnant - again. She hadn't taken a test, or gone to the doctors because she simply didn't want to face it, deal with it at the moment. Not now, while she was still mourning the loss between her and Ben. Having to face a test, or a gyne telling her what she already knew would seem to be the final nail on the coffin of their friendship. It was killing her inside that he couldn't, wouldn't look at her anymore. Because of the close proximity of family - it was impossible not to run into each other. Slowly, but surely, he was drawing away from her, away from their - "friendship" - and it was killing her. She had no idea it would be this difficult to bear, to face - to cope with day by day. She thought that at the very least, they could be friends, speak to one another - be kind, or smile.
He never smiled - not anymore - and certainly not at her.
She knew that this was a treatment directed at her, and her alone, because Isaac would tell her, when Victor wasn't around - that Ben took him here, or Ben took him there, or Ben taught him this, and Ben, taught him that, and Ben promised, that he would always be there for him; the way that Ben had promised her that. Isaac had even gone so far as to ask her, would she keep Darren so he could have Ben all to himself; with Darren along, that wasn't so - Ben babied the baby - but included Isaac, who wanted him exclusively.
Crystal had wanted to cry on more than one occasion, because she understood exactly how he felt, he was keeping the promises he made to her sons, but to her - no - he was breaking her heart.
He said he understood!
He said he loved her!
That he would always be there!
Yet - now - he could not even look her way.
The cause of it all, her life, what she'd done to it, the decisions she'd made, her efforts in trying to live right, was sending her into a hopeless depression. Sometimes, she questioned her own sanity. Where no one saw her, could hear her; she quietly wept. She longed to be strong and feared that she was just the opposite of that. She longed to be in the state of mind she once had been when she first fell for Victor, but try as she might, she could not get back there. It was as if she'd crossed over a rickety bridge that fell to pieces once she passed from one place to the other, the other being, where she was now - looking back, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get back over - there was no way - it was tearing her insides to bits. And then, the first time after going back to him, she'd let him make love to her she'd had to drink - drink what he'd provided to, "get her in the mood" - she'd drank most of the wine, and even smoked a joint - so she could get high out of her mind and then, she let Victor have her; do to her what he would; use her body while she escaped the event in her mind. She'd bitten into her tongue not to speak, kept her eyes closed the entire time, start to finish, not to see the man above her; and in her mind, replaced him with another man - the combination of the other man, and the drink, and the marijuana worked as an aphrodisiac; pretending that it was Ben, she'd come - in her mind, she'd cried out his name - Ben's name.
Victor had felt on top of the world - assured by her actions when they made love.
He wanted her pregnant.
She wasn't on contraceptives, trying with all her might not to fight this - thing, she felt she must do.
Problem, she was starting to drink, a bit too much - a bit too often. She was starting to get high, a bit too much. So to the point that on one occasion, her father, her dad, Shawn had surprised her with a visit - he was doing that now - just showing up without notice to check on her. Mainly because, she was missing every other anger management meeting - making excuses for not going, for not keeping appointments with a psychologist chosen for her special needs.
One of his past visits - Percival had the boys, Victor had been sleeping - he'd had to work that night.
She was out in the yard, on the side of the house, sitting on the kitchen steps - high, drinking coolers. Gazing at her mobile phone messages, the last one that she'd received from Ben, read...
*Stop it - stop willing me to look at you. Stop willing me to come to you. I'm only human - I cannot bear the idea of you with him - I can not bear it!*
She'd wiped the moisture from beneath her eyes - Shawn was coming.
Pulling up to the house, Shawn spotted her there.
In spotting him, she'd moved the coolers out of view beneath their barbecue and charcoals while he was getting out and walking around the side to see her. His eyes; they were so perceptive, so all seeing, looking clear through her.
"Hey you - what happened to last night? That's another meeting you missed." He had pointed out right away.
Crystal's eyes went to him with a brief cloaked glance and then quickly away, feeling self-conscience.
He sat on the step next to her, waiting for her explanation.
"I aaah - wasn't feeling too good - laid down, and - slept passed the time." She gave for lack of anything better to say.
"You need me to start back picking you up?" he asked, watching her closely.
"No... I can drive, no - you don't have to." She was speaking low, looking at the ground instead of up at him.
Shawn sat a moment, staring at her, observing how she was fidgeting, trying to sit normal, she closed her phone, putting it away. There was nothing normal about the way she was moving, and avoiding his gaze.
"Look at me." He asked softly at first.
"Huh?" She responded, her eyes flicking to him and then away again.
"I said - look at me, look me right in the eyes, and don't - look away."
The request made her nervous, she reached up as if her scalp itched at the temple, scratching there, using her hand to partially shield her eyes, she slowly glanced up at him, as he sat on the step above hers; but her eyes kept darting away, as if she couldn't get them to focus on his face.
Shawn had been quiet, stunned. She was high. He could smell the weed on her; could see it in her eyes, they were pink, watery; almost vacant.
He looked away from her, sad - hurt - feeling at a loss. He was helpless to help her.
Because he sat next to her, quiet - she knew that he knew and could not remember a time when she'd felt more ashamed of herself, the longer he sat, offering no words, the worse his silence made her feel - she squirmed all the more, trying to get her mind, her brain to think of something to say to him, something to excuse herself, but she couldn't - nothing to her mind came.
"I'm - sorry." She murmured, starting to cry.
Shawn still couldn't speak, he reached over, pulled her against him, holding her, hugging her tightly, which made her softly weep.
"Shhh, come on, don't cry." He hummed gently, low, rubbing her back. "Don't cry..."
She couldn't help it, and admitted to him, in a voice low and gravelly from being high and weeping, "He - comes to - me - you know. I see him - all the time - taunting me; you know - saying how - worthless I am. I hate him - so much - so much. Ben said to me, he - he is my biggest - influence. That I live - my life - for him ... not for - me. Why?..." She asked, pausing, her hand gesturing open for a gift of understanding, waving it away, knowing she would get none, "... - why'd he - hate me so much - why'd he hate me? I don't under-stand... I try to understand, to think back - what did I dooo? What did I dooo?" she sobbed and couldn't stop.
Shawn held her there, rocked her, pulled her onto his lap, as if she were Angela, but - she was not. No matter what he did, he couldn't erase the damage done by her father. He sat holding her, as she sobbed - and knew, that to a daughter, her father's opinion
of her, direction given, love given, or... withheld - shaped them for years to come. What a father did to his daughter, could make her a leader among men, a star shining brightly in her time, a solid and strong woman glowing with joy and decisiveness, or - a child forever - unable to grow, move on, always seeking approval, needing to be loved and accepted - because from him - it had never been given. No matter how much love was poured into her from others - it seemed to roll off like water on an oily surface, unable to penetrate; but the bible said, that LOVE - conquers all. If that were to be true, Shawn realized, he had to keep pouring it on, and pouring it on, until that oily block thinned, leaving a porous space, an opening where the water, could eventually, soak in, slowly penetrate; even if only a bit at a time. If running water could cut through solid rock - then surely, his love for her - as a father would a daughter, it too would get through. He just had to keep showing her, that she was loved - that she was a good girl - that she was special, that he was wrong - and that there was nothing at all, wrong with her. Nothing at all wrong in making a mistake and being brave enough, to walk away when it was plain to see, a mistake; that she didn't have to suffer or sacrifice for the rest of her life to prove, that she was normal, loved, and wouldn't be looked badly upon - and if so, so what? She had family that knew her, loved her - just the way she was.
"I'm so-sorry - you - you ashamed of me?" She asked in a little girls voice, eyes red, wet.
"No - not ever. There is nothing to be ashamed of. You're not his daughter, you're mine - when are you gonna realize that, huh? You're mine. And because you're mine, you're gonna pull through all of this. Emmm, it's gonna take you a while - won't be overnight - but - my little girl - that's you, by the way - you will stand up one day; reach inside your head; and snatch the plug on that ugly recorder that keeps telling you - all those ugly lies. When you realize, that it was all lies - not one of them true, you'll take a deep cleansing breath; and you'll square your shoulders; dry your eyes and you'll smile. Oh my, and what a smile that'll be - a real, big, bright bold and lovely smile. That day, you'll be happy and you'll know, exactly what you'll have to do, and you'll do it, without hesitation, right?"
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