“I know I’m not totally responsible but I still feel guilty,” he hardly mutters, his eyes meeting my roaming ones.
“You need help. I will not sit around and watch you destroy yourself. Look at you. This isn’t you. I know grief is a terrible thing, but I don’t think this is healthy.”
“Fine,” he sighs.
“Fine, what?”
“I will try to see a shrink.”
I hug him as tightly as possible.
“Thank you for trying. It’s all about potential and first steps. I promise to be there every step of the way, Honey.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter 19
I hastily pull up the zipper of my orange princess dress, as I’m already late for Thanksgiving dinner. I’ve tried on this dress every day since the week but ironically on D- day it doesn’t fit. I let out this loud grunt as I struggle with the zipper again.
“Let me help you,” David calls out from the other side of the room, buttoning his orange dress shirt, leaving the top buttons open.
I drop my hands to my side, waiting for David to assist me with the zipper.
Without any effort, he pulls up the zipper of the dress. I roll my eyes involuntary at how long I’ve been try to do this.
“Calm down. Everything will be fine.” He rubs my shoulder from behind.
“The past couple weeks have been so stressful. Between planning the wedding, work and trying to get this dinner together. I feel as if two spiked walls are closing in on me. I just want everything to go smoothly,” I express, rubbing my throbbing temples.
“And it will. Everything will be okay. Now let’s go finish dishing out the food until our guests arrive.”
“How do you mange to stay so calm, David?” I try to figure.
“Still haven’t found that one out as yet. Let’s go.” He extends his arm and off we go.
***
Ding- Dong
They're here.
“I’ll get it,” David hollers from the living room.
I hear the mutters coming from the hall but I’m yet to pick the voices up. Oh, it's Robynett and Clarke. I take off my apron and head towards the room of guests
Letting go off Clarke’s hand, Robynett dashes towards me and grabs me in a hug. I happily return the embrace.
“You ready?” I ask her, my heart throbbing away. I swallow, just to keep myself calm.
“Thank you again, Rach; you have no idea how much this means to me.”
“What are friends for? Now I could really use some help with this turkey.”
“Then you've got it,” she delights. We leave the boys to finish setting the table and getting the movie for tonight sorted out.
Ding-Ding
I turn on my heels as I hear the door bell. I know everyone in the room could hear the speed at which my heart throbs. And Robynett. The poor girl's so tense. I beckon her to the living room while I go get the front door.
I recite the serenity prayer ten times faster than I would in my head. After mustering up enough courage, I open the door.
“Mom, Dad.” I move forward, embracing them both in a tight hug.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” They sing, holding up a bottle of red wine.
I invite them inside and close the door.
“Where is she?” they both ask, as if seeing her is the only thing they’re concerned about.
I direct them to the living room. As they step inside, they both stop in their tracks. My heart pounds as I wait...
“Oh–– my God. It’s her,” my mom sobs, covering her mouth. She rushes over to her and literally grabs her in a hug. Quickly Robynett returns the hug. Soon enough, dad walks over to her and takes her in a tight hug too. My parents where almost like Robyn’s parents and hers almost like mine. Well, I can understand the way they're feeling right now. I just can’t imagine what it will be like when Mr. and Mrs. Black get here.
DING DONG, DING DONG!
Oh no. It's that desperate ring of the doorbell.
I close my eyes for a few seconds. I take deep breaths. I freeze to anxiety. I see a million goose bumps on my hands. My parents hold each other. David wraps a trembling arm around my waist. Clarke covers his eyes with two of his fingers.
Robynett literally sprints to the door. Everyone stands still. Cold sweat washes my entire body. We get ready for that million dollar moment .
Time stops.
Come on, come on, come on.
Robynett slows down as if she's having a change of mind.
Come on, Rob, do it.
She turns the nob.
I close my eyes, for just a second.
I exhale.
It's as if there's a thousand farm ants biting the bottom of my feet.
Robynett opens the door.
The moment's priceless. She jumps in the arms of both of them, Mr. And Mrs. Black. “Mom...Dad...”
Silky tears varnish my eyes. They’re a family again. Happy.
“Let the thanksgiving dinner begin,” my dad roars. Everyone agrees and proceeds to the dining room.
There is, however, still this pit feeling in my stomach. I quickly remove such thought from my head and sit at the dining table with everyone else.
Chapter 20
This is the best I’ve slept in months. I open my eyes, happily remembering the event of last night. That was this best Thanksgiving dinner I’ve had in the past three years. Man, my ma, pop, Mr. And Mrs. Black wouldn't give Robynett a break. Though it’s all over I just have this feeling something else is about to happen. I’ve been on edge since last night.
My wedding planning is all sorted out, Robynett has been reunited with her parents and David is finally scheduling going to his therapy session, after much work of course, but something just doesn’t feel right.
I push my thoughts to the back of the mind as I move toward the sliding glass door. It's such a beauty seeing the different colors of Fall leaves, parachuting to the ground, making an orange, yellow and brown ocean of foliage all around.
I change into sweat pants and a tee shirt then make my way to the kitchen to begin breakfast. I have seven mouths to feed. I better get cracking, making sure my guests are all ok.
I mix a large bowl of package batter, along with making some coffee, eggs and bacon; hopefully, this can keep everyone until lunch.
“Early start, huh?” my mom grins, sitting on the bar tool around the island in the kitchen.
“I do have guests to feed,” I say, flipping the pancake in the skillet.
“Well, can I help you with anything?” she asks, tying her white robe around her PJs.
You could set the table while I finish up with everything in here.”
I pause my pancake making, showing mom where the utensils are.
Everyone comes down shortly after and we all gather at the dining table.
Breakfast goes smoothly. Soon enough I feel a weight being lifted off my shoulders but it comes right back as Mr. Black open his mouth and asks –
“Robynett, dear, your mother and I have been thinking. We just got you back and– we want to make sure that everything's checked out. Would you feel comfortable doing a DNA test?”
I sink in my seat as the whole table awaits her response. I wish that the ground would open up and just take me in. What will Robynett think? At the moment several pair of eyes exchange glances, but no one says a word. A few minutes later , Robynett speaks.
“I have no problem,” she assures. “Maybe my best friend here, Doctor Rachel could assist.”
Wow, I did not see that coming.
“What do you say, Rach?” Mom asks.
“Sure.”
I have no doubt that this test will come back positive. I mean, she looks exactly like them, especially Mrs. Black.
Okay, good. Now everything is back almost to normal. We are about to leave the table but Mrs. Black suddenly begins to speak–
“Before we go any further, we have one more thing to tell you.”
Again, I sink in
my seat.
“Robynett, yo–”
Ding- Dong
“I’ll get it,” Robynett stands. I stand too, ready to accompany her to the door.
She pulls the door open and–
Oh no!
Time stops.
I stand frozen and so– does she. My whole body becomes frigid.
Robynett’s jaws drop. I clasp my mouth with shivery hands.
I look at the woman standing beside me–– and the one–– in front of me. I rub my eyes, making sure I'm not seeing the same person twice. I look back and forth, still in utter shock.
“Robyn,” I marvel, gawping the woman at the door, taking notice of the scar on her left hand, the scar she had gotten from falling off the monkey bars when we were kids. I look at her greasy dark hair. And why's she dressed like this? That skirt is way too short, Rob.
“What–– happened to–– your hair, and– all of you?” I tremble, looking at the girl I once knew. Did she–– return from the dead? Those eyes are wild.
“My baby...babies,” Mrs. Black cries out!
“Hold her! She's going to fall over! Quick!” David yells, after seeing Mrs. Black collapsing.
Clarke rushes to the aid of the now wobbly Mr. Black in holding his wife up.
“Get her some smelling salt, quick!”
“Ok, let's bring her to the couch.”
“Ok, don't crowd the lady around; she needs as much fresh air as possible.”
David and I continue fanning her.
Robyn and Robynett gawp each other...
Chapter 21
Five minutes after
“So, mom, you're saying that –– ”
Mrs. Black starts wiping her swollen red eyes again, “We–– couldn't clear that debt, Robina,” she sobs. David hands her a paper towel.
“Rob–– ina?” Robynett drills.
“That's–– the name we gave you before––” Mr. Black adds, holding his wife.
“Yes, as I was saying, Honey,” Mrs. Black continues, “we were going to lose everything, our house, our bank accounts... I asked the banker what else could we do.”
She pauses and then looks up at all of us in the room. She's greeted with this bitter stare from Robyn.
Clarke steps outside. I guess he figured he didn't need to hear all of this.
“The banker told us how badly she tried to have kids–– but couldn't. She told me and your dad that she–– could take our loans from off the books if we gave her one of the pretty little twin girls...”
“YOU!!!!”
“Robynett!!” we wail, holding her back as she races with fury toward her mom.
“YOU BETTER LET ME GO. YOU HEAR ME?”
“Come on, Robynett, please,” we beg, “don't.”
“I HATE YOU! HATE YOU. WHAT KIND OF PARENTS ARE YOU?”
Where does get this sort of energy from, I try to figure as we try to keep Robynett from off her parents.
This man, who has a thick moustache, looking somewhat like a Mexican, walks through the front door. Robyn races towards us.
“Is everything alright, Robyn?” I howl.
“Where you think you going? You were not supposed to leave.”
“I'm not coming back,” she hesitates, her eyes looking so wild. The poor girl's frightened.
“Wait, are we missing something here?” I intervene, as we let go from off Robynett.
“How about minding your own business?” the stranger belittles.
“I–– beg you–– pardon? You happen to be in my apartment. And whatever happens in here is my darn business.”
“You coming or what, Raven?”
“Raven?” Mr. Black intervenes, “our daughter is not Raven.”
“I own her.”
“I BEG YOU PARDON?” her mom stops.
“Let––go off me,” Robyn shrugs.
“Listen, man,” David steps in, “if the woman doesn't want to go with you, you just can't force her against her will.”
Huh!
He points this gun, which he pops out from seemingly nowhere, towards David's forehead. “We could sort this out,” he giggles.
My heart works faster. I look around, searching for something to break on the head of this red-haired lunatic, who's pointing a luger at my fiance.
“Yes–– we could sort––this out,” David stutters.
“Let's go, Raven. You just wait till I get home. I'll teach not to run away again!” he slams.
“Good Lord,” my mom cries out.
“Shut the heck up, WOMAN!” He points the pistol at her, much to the rage of my pop. He challenges the man. I knew I poppa wasn't going to take this, having some idiot talk to my mom like that.
“Daddy, DONT!”
BANG, BANG, BANG!, BANG, BANG!!!
He jerks at each bullet that pokes his body. He falls over to a thud on the floor, which greets his bloody embrace.
I cover my eyes with my hands for a second or two. I only see this type of stuff in westerns.
Phew.
David holds on to dad as he sits there, trying to recover from his panic. I could hear his wheezing chest. “That boy's lucky,” dad breaths out, nodding his head. “I–– was going to–– end him myself.”
Like really, Dad? Hadn't Clarke hit this psycho, upon coming back inside my apartment, things would have turned out the other way. Too happy I am. I could hug Clarke for being such a hero, saving my poppa.
I quickly dial the police department for backup while Clarke guards this wounded stranger. Quite shaky for a hero though. He must be still surprised at the way he had taken down this psycho.
“––Honey, who's–– he?”
Robyn turns to her mom, giving her this wild stare...
“Robyn?”
She turns to her dad...
“Robyn,” I beckon, with a smile.
“.... Three years ago, my car was hit. I wasn't wearing seat-belts. I was flung from my seat. I rolled over this cliff...”
“Robyn,” Mrs. Black sniffs. She stops and looks at her mom.
And then she continues, “I had been unconscious for–– couldn't say how long, but I knew I woke up to this man.” She looks at the man, lying on the floor, in his own pool of blood. “He has taken care of me since but, he has never allowed me to leave the underground basement of his house, where I've lived since...”
“Three years? Oh my god!” my mom spits out, holding her head. Dad holds her.
“––Neither has he told anyone that he has found me since then.”
“Look, Robyn, and ––Robina... I mean, Robynett,” Mrs. Black whimpers, holding on to her husband. “We've been so stupid–– for giving one of you away–– and not telling the other what happened...”
“Girls, I know we're the worst parents you could imagine having,” Mr. Black adds. “Tell us,” he continues, “will you forgive us?”
Robynett and Robyn look at each other. Only God knows what they're saying in their mind.
Time stops, as if it waits on either of them to answer. It isn't hard to hear a pin if one falls to the floor right now.
“If you don't forgive us, then that's ok. We deserve it,” their mother gulps, wiping her swollen eyes.
The girls look at David–– and then they look over at me––
The End
Thanks for reading.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marcaila Edwards is an author and a poet. She enjoys singing and playing the piano, cooking and baking, creative writing, watching medical dramas, photography and graphic designing.
“From the moment I watched Grey's Anatomy, the work of Shonda Rhimes immediately inspired me. 'If I should ever write a book, it would be a medical drama. The others would be mystery. If I decide to write another,' I told myself. Marcaila express.
Marcaila Edwards is a jovial, hardworking, independent and artistic young woman. G
od, family and friends are the most important persons in Marcaila's life.
Marcaila is a lover of quotes. the following are just two of her favorites:
“We have a choice:to live or to exist.”
-Harry Styles
“Your best teacher is your last mistake.”
-Ralph Nader
Everything They Didn't Tell Page 6