Always, Dylan
Sadness replaced anger, realizing that no matter how quickly she moved, nor how delicately, someone was leaving with a broken heart, and she'd be plagued with yet another festering emotional wound.
Dylan would never leave her again, he'd never left her to begin with. He loved her, and she knew it in a way she hadn't known before her mother spent weeks convincing her she'd been wrong.
Remembering Savannah's deception left her feeling gross, she stepped into the shower and let the water scald her skin while she combed out the tangled curls, and scrubbed away tears. She cried because she was angry, afraid it would take her the rest of her life to forgive her mother.
But if Rachel ever wanted to find true peace of mind, she knew she'd have to forgive her, not for Savannah's sake, but for her own.
***
Early Sunday she pulled into the gravel driveway and began unloading her few bags, still tired. But beyond telling Kenneth she wanted a divorce, she was nowhere closer to developing a plan for how to move on with her life.
She took a deep breath and considered the almost-empty bottle of Valium. Her cell in hand, she brushed the bottle away and scrolled to find the number, then hit the "call" button before she lost her nerve.
"Hey, dumplin'!" Savannah said, honey dripping from her tongue.
"Mother, are you home today?"
"Aren't you well, dumplin'? You sound upset."
"I am upset, but I'd rather not discuss it over the phone."
"Why ever not, Rachel? Is everything alright?"
"No. But it will be," she stilled the tremor in her voice, "I want to come over and talk. Are you home today?"
"Yes, we're home. We're just about to have brunch, Jameson has a noon tee-time. You're worrying me, Rachel, are the children okay?"
"They're fine, Mother. I'll be there in about an hour, please let the gate know to expect me."
She played over what she'd say, the questions she'd ask, and wondered if her mother would fly off the handle, if she'd deny everything or simply admit what she'd done. Rachel wasn't sure she was ready to hear the truth, it scared her. But she had to ask, and she needed Savannah to know that she'd uncovered her deception.
The gate to the small community was enormous, a wrought iron monster stretching forty feet across the stone paved road that led to a five thousand acre spread covered in million dollar homes, tennis courts, and private stables. Three golf courses and a private polo field brought in the high rollers who wanted to escape the bustle in Houston. Jameson had purchased one of the first homes for Savannah before they were married near the end of Rachel's senior year in high school. They'd moved in only a few days before graduation.
The acne-faced security guard smiled and waved her though, and the gate rolled back to give her access. She pulled up to their house and stared up at ten thousand square feet of brick pomp and overindulgence daring her to dismantle the years of carefully constructed deceit. She was petrified.
She needed a Valium, but didn't want to dull the rage that fueled her confidence. Stepping onto the marble stoop, she pressed the doorbell and waited for the housekeeper to greet her. When Jameson opened the door instead, she instantly regretted leaving the Valium in her car.
"Hey kiddo. What's up?"
"Hello Jameson," she said politely, stepping through the door and into the lion's den where Savannah waited, martini in hand, wearing her Sunday's finest.
"Well, dumplin', come on in, you've got me worried," she said, "Let's go back to the sunroom, can we get you a drink?"
"No, I'm fine, thank you."
Jameson excused himself to his library and the women made their way through the jungle of pageantry before they settled in the small sunroom off of the kitchen. It overlooked the custom designed swimming pool, and a scenic shot of the golf course sat just beyond the pool house. A flicker of a smile crossed her lips as Rachel imagined her mother giving Jameson head, seducing her way into the home she'd always dreamed of.
"Now what's the matter, dumplin'?" Savannah asked, her red lipstick frosting the edge of her martini glass.
Rachel looked out the window, fear threatening to choke out everything she'd wanted to say. Then she heard Lana's voice telling her, "It's easy to hide, Dollface, that's why people expect you to do it. Not hidin', that's the hard part. And if you ain't hidin', they know you mean business."
"Mother, when Daddy left, how long did you wait before you started seeing Jameson?"
"I don't remember, dumplin', that was 20 years ago."
"Daddy left on Christmas my senior year of high school. And six months later, you were remarried and we were living in this house. So, when Daddy left, how long had you already been seeing Jameson?"
Savannah straightened herself in her chair and set the martini on the table before giving Rachel a hard stare, unflinching.
"Well, Rachel, your father had been having affairs for years, so things deteriorated long before he left that Christmas. I'd been friendly with Jameson, we just fell in love rather quickly, that's all. What is this about?"
"Did Daddy really cheat on you? Or were you the one cheating on him with Jameson?"
"Of course not, Rachel, are you insane?"
"Remember when you told me you couldn't afford to buy me a prom dress, that I'd have to ask Daddy?"
"Well, yes, your father never did leave us enough money to manage all of our expenses, so naturally it was his responsibility."
"When I was in the hospital and Daddy came to visit, my therapist had me share with him how hurt I was that he'd never brought me the money. And he swore to me even then that he had. It was strange, because he'd always been so quick to accept the blame for things going wrong with y'all. And all this time, I thought he was just covering his ass, but now I think he probably did bring it, and you just decided to keep it."
"Rachel Kay, how dare you talk to me that way?" she said, her eyes ablaze, "I did no such thing, you've always been the most important thing in my life, I've always bent over backwards to make sure you had the finest things. Of course I'd never have denied you something like a dress to attend your prom, not if I could help it. Your happiness is everything to me."
She must have had too many martinis already, or she'd never have allowed herself to sound so venomous. Rachel steeled herself and continued.
"No, you're right. You absolutely always made sure I had the finest clothes and jewelry, that I was the envy of every other girl in Harrison Township."
Savannah's face softened, she nodded in agreement.
"But that's why I'm so perplexed. You'd always complained about never having nice gowns to wear to school dances, and you always made sure I had those things, so it strikes me as strange that for that one event, for that one event in my youth, you couldn't be bothered to make sure I had a new dress to attend."
"Rachel, really. Where are you going with this?"
"Remember when I came home with a dress, the dress Dylan bought for me so I could go with him to the dance?"
Savannah's eyes narrowed, the wheels turning in her head.
"Yes, I remember."
"Do you remember what you said?"
"Rachel, that was a very long time ago."
"I was so excited and I wanted you to come up to my room and see it, and you said that Daddy hadn't given me enough money to buy it."
She rolled her eyes dramatically, "And so what, Rachel? Can we please get to the point here?"
"And when I told you that Dylan had bought it, then you said that I was no better than a girl walking the streets in downtown Houston, that Dylan may as well have just handed me the cash to sleep with him."
"Rachel, I'm done here," she said, standing to leave.
"Did you deliberately keep Dylan from seeing me after he left to work with his dad?"
Savannah sat back down, folding her hands in her lap and smirked, "Oh dumplin', is that what this is about? I knew that seeing him was just going to bring up painful memories for you. That boy was no g
ood, Rachel. He had sex with you and then left you when you wound up pregnant. Men do that kind of thing, it's time you learned to let it go."
"No, Mother, I talked to Dylan. He said that you and Jameson refused to let him see me, that he called and called. He said you told him I had an abortion and was dating Brent."
Savannah's face went white and she reached to fiddle with the cocktail napkin on the table. She was nervous, and her silence betrayed her guilt, but she was too shrewd to deny it any further.
"Rachel, I want to explain something to you. You are my only child, and it was my responsibility to protect you. Your little crush on that boy was fine while you were still in school, but when it came time to grow up you needed to accept that you were better than him, you deserved a man who was capable of giving you all of the things I never had. I'm sorry if you're hurt that we kept him from you, but surely you see now that it was all done with your best interests in mind."
"But, Mother, then you pressured me to go out with Brent. You told me to sleep with him so I could tell him I was having his baby! You romanticized our relationship to him, you convinced us to elope. Remember when I was six months pregnant and I called you crying because he'd pushed me? You told me to go apologize to him! Was it really my best interests you were looking out for? Or was it your own? Were you really concerned about what I needed, or were you afraid the little world you were building would all come crashing down around you if people found out your only daughter had been knocked up by the local Indian's kid?"
She shook in her chair, amazed that she'd had the courage to confront her.
"Lower your voice," Savannah hissed, "You have always been a selfish, selfish girl. I told you it would have been better to have an abortion, but you wouldn't do it. You'll never understand what I suffered to give you the kind of life I never had growing up. And you will not blame me because you behaved like a slut, or because that boy put his hands on you. That was a tragic thing that happened to all of us, and you should want to put it behind you. You have two beautiful children and a devoted husband who loves you. Stop digging into things that don't matter anymore. I'm done here, you can call me when you've calmed down."
And while Rachel sat shaking in her wicker chair, Savannah left, Jameson calling after her from the library to ask if she were well.
"Just a touch of a headache, lover, enjoy your round of golf," she called down as she ascended the stairs to her room.
***
Jake's car was in the driveway when Rachel pulled back up to the house, he and the kids were unloading their backpacks and heading inside. He smiled and waved on his way in, she put the gearshift into park and sat with the engine running.
The tears flooded her face. Her mother had destroyed her chance at being with the man she'd loved since she was a child. She'd lied to her, manipulated her, turned her against her father. She'd pushed her into staying with an abusive man and then convinced the hospital to keep her locked up until enough time had passed for her friends to stop asking questions.
And now that she'd been confronted, she wasn't even sorry.
Was Rachel the selfish girl Savannah said she'd always been? Was leaving Kenneth another act of self-indulgence sure to destroy her children? Had she really expected her mother to apologize? To make her understand?
Savannah had never given her the kind of compassion or love she'd needed, this wasn't new. But understanding now the lengths her mother would go to in order to secure her own happiness, at the expense of Rachel's well-being, it was a knife in her chest. What else had she done?
The pain in her chest suffocated her.
***
The kids were in bed by the time Kenneth made it home from work. After a long afternoon and evening of tears and pep talks, Jake had finally departed for Mark's.
"Still wanting to love your mother after knowing what she's done to hurt you doesn't make you crazy, Rachel," he'd said before he left, "There are children every day who still want to love their parents even after they've been beaten, molested, raped. It's human nature to need your mother's love. But Savannah will never see the wrong she has done you. She will never apologize for it or accept any responsibility for who you are, or what you've been through. So if you're expecting that to happen, don't hold your breath, honey."
She'd told him she planned to leave Kenneth after the gala. He sat quietly and simply nodded his head. She wanted him to tell her it was the right thing to do, that he understood. But he hadn't.
"Hey," Kenneth said when he saw her still sitting at the kitchen table.
"Hey."
"The kids asleep?"
Rachel nodded.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Not really."
Silence.
He locked the door before making his way towards the fridge, avoiding eye contact. He was good at that.
"There's pizza in the oven," she said.
"Thanks."
She watched him pull a slice from the box and stare quietly out the window as he stood over the sink eating it.
"I'm going to bed," she finally managed, unable to tolerate another night of unspoken feelings because neither of them cared enough to open their mouths.
***
She woke in the middle of the night, panicked by the fear she'd had a lapse of judgment, that sooner or later she'd realize Dylan had been motivated by grief and she'd been motivated by loneliness. But as her racing heart slowed and she adjusted to the darkness in her room, she ran her hands over the sheets that covered her queen size bed and felt the cool space that had gone unoccupied for so long.
Those cold sheets made her stronger, her conviction grew, Rachel knew she and Dylan belonged together, and they would find a way to make it work. But Kenneth would be hurt in the process, and the prospect of finding a way to be friendly and co-parent their children in a respectful and symbiotic way felt impossible. How could she make Kenneth see that they both deserved more?
***
Rachel walked behind Lauren as they entered the Steps Beyond Childcare center, she juggled pink cupcakes in one hand and juiceboxes in the other as Lauren stopped all the other parents making their ways in and out of the building, "Hey, it's my birthday today, I'm four years old now."
They wished her happy birthday and made small talk, and Rachel stood patiently when Lauren held court in her classroom commanding her little friends to gather around as she made an announcement. She was late for a meeting with Lana and Megan, they were waiting for her at the office, but they'd just have to wait. Her baby came first today, no matter what.
"Today is my birthday," Lauren began, her hands held high to keep everyone's attention, "I am four years old and today I get to be the boss of you."
"Lauren Ashley," Rachel tried not to laugh, "You will play nicely with your friends today and share your cupcakes after lunch, and there will be no bossing anyone around, understand?"
Lauren shot her a death glance, and waltzed over to the play kitchen.
"That's her command center," the teacher laughed, "Don't worry, Rachel, she's all bark."
"I'm not so sure about that," Rachel smiled.
They chatted for a moment before she kissed Lauren goodbye and made her way to the office.
Jake sat in his office singing along to the radio, he was knee deep in table signs and Rachel knew better than to interrupt him. Lana and Megan were waiting in her office, sitting together on her sofa, and she walked in as Lana finished the punchline to some joke, "because vibrators can't mow the grass."
Megan chuckled quietly.
"Well, there you are," Lana whined, "I was about to call out the cavalry."
"I'm sorry, Lana," Rachel offered as she sat behind her desk, "It's Lauren's birthday, I was getting her set up at school."
"You're forgiven then," Lana said, "That little angel is a lot more important than an old fart like me. What did she get for her birthday?"
"I found her a tiara to wear with her dress for the gala, I'll give it to her tonight aft
er we sing happy birthday. Tell me what I can do for you, ladies. How are you, Megan? How's the apartment?"
She pulled her laptop out and set it on the desk.
Megan sat up and cleared her throat, "It's wonderful, Rachel, I love it. Thank you."
"You're so welcome," Rachel smiled, "How's the job hunt?"
"Well that's what we wanna talk about," Lana interrupted, "Megan's never had a job, or went to school. We're lookin' for something for her to do part-time, but we were talkin' about her going to school and takin' some classes, too."
"I think that's a wonderful idea, how can I help?"
"We met up with the financial aid people and she can get some grants and loans, they're gonna pay for her rent and her school, but that won't start 'til January and she needs a car to get to work and to school. It's not like there's a bus around here to get her there."
Rachel gritted her teeth, this wasn't the first time a client had needed transportation, and it wouldn't be the last. It was a huge barrier for most of her clients, not having a vehicle made it incredibly difficult to leave an abuser and become independent.
"Lana," Rachel said evenly, "You know that's a tall order."
"Rachel," Megan interrupted, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to ask, you've done so much for me already."
"Hush girl," Lana said, "You didn't ask, I did."
Rachel smiled at her and wondered if Megan would ever appreciate the bulldog advocate she had in the old woman before her.
"I can't promise anything," Rachel said, "To be honest, it probably won't happen, Megan, but I'll see what I can find. In the meantime, look around and see if you can find a dealer or an organization that might be willing to work with you. We should have a list of transportation resources in the volunteer handbook."
"You know I know that handbook front to back, Rachel," Lana smirked and stood to leave, "There ain't nothin' in there that I ain't tried. So you get your pretty little face on that computer and see what you can do. And we'll see you tomorrow at the Summit. Kiss that baby for me and tell her I'll have a special present for her birthday when I see her tomorrow."
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