I didn't react. My eyes were glued to the picture, but I felt him approach from the door. He sat on the side of my bed and took my hand. "I saw you drive by the café and came to get you, but what's going on? Viola's crying downstairs and baking at the same time. That can't be good. Your grandpa didn't even look at me. He's just sitting on the couch and staring at the television. There's some soap on. And now you…"
I rolled on my back and stared at Brady. He loomed above me. His tribal tattoo stood out on his arm underneath his sleeveless black shirt. I felt like it was shouting its existence at me. When I touched it, I grazed it with my nail.
"Why did you get this?"
He retrieved my hand. "Come on."
"You never told me."
He looked away. "There's a lot I don't tell you, Rayna."
"You told me once that you tell me everything."
"I lied." He hung his head.
"Everyone lies."
"Hey, come on." He twisted to look at me again, but I looked at that frame instead.
I mumbled, "I felt safe that day."
"What day?"
"I've never really felt safe, Brady, but I did that day because I knew you'd still be here. I'm not safe, though. I thought I could handle my last year, but things are so complicated. I never knew how complicated it could get, but it is. Everything is a lie. We all lie. I lie to you even."
Brady sat there for a couple of seconds in silence. Then he asked, "What do you lie to me about?"
"About how I feel about you. I lied to myself about how I've always felt about you." There. I'd let the cat out of the bag. He'd have to bite, but….I waited as my heart pounded.
Nothing.
Brady cleared his throat. "Is this all because of your mom?"
When I heard his answer, I closed my eyes and felt something tear inside of me. I rolled away from him until there was a foot between us.
"Viola told me that you're the wrong guy. I can't be around you anymore."
"What? Oh come on. What are you talking about? It's Kid that she doesn't want you around."
Frank Stephens could be my father. "I don't think Kid's a problem anymore."
"Rayna." Brady scooted close to me, but his legs didn't touch mine. He made sure. He didn't want to be too close. "What's going on with you? I feel like I'm losing you or something."
I looked at him finally and then sat up when I saw the nervousness in him. His blonde hair had been wetted down so it was a sharp contrast between dark and light, but his eyes were the best liars. He looked concerned, genuinely concerned, but I saw that he was hiding. When I looked closer and inspected him as he always seemed to inspect me, I saw that there was a lot there.
"What are you keeping from me?"
"Noth—," he started to lie, but stopped. "I keep some of my past from you. I don't tell anyone that stuff, Rayna. It doesn't mean anything about our friendship."
"Friendship," I said the word. It felt bitter in my mouth. "We are not just friends and I told you that I've been lying about my feelings. Why didn't you ask about my feelings?"
A wall fell over his eyes. "I've been thinking about this, and I don't think…ah, hell. I don't know. I just think that with Clarissa going after you and those other girls who made you cry—"
"You are not taking it back! You can't. We had sex, Brady. I gave myself to you, and I did it because it was you. You have been the one pushing it. You're the one so protective of me with Kid. You're the one hanging all over my inner tube. You're the one that calls me in the morning when you get arrested. You're the one who doesn't want other guys to look at me. You're the one who wants to kiss me after you get out of jail. You're the one who takes me to the doctor so that I can get birth control pills. You’re the one, not me! So don't you dare change things now because if you do, I will lose it. I can't have one more thing change on me."
Whoo. I fanned myself, but kept glaring at Brady.
Suddenly my door was thrown open and my grandmother stood there. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were wild. Her greying hair was frayed with strands flailing in the air. She took two hurried steps inside before she stopped abruptly and stuck her jalapeno potholders on her hips.
Brady and I looked at each other, but neither said a word. I didn't dare. I was still heaving from my speech to Brady and my grandmother looked like she would let loose in a second.
"Brady," Viola spoke in a shrill voice. "You need to leave."
"Oh. Okay. Rayna, I'll call you later?"
Brady started to get up from the bed, but stopped when my grandmother spoke further, "No, Brady. I mean, if the two of you are having intercourse, then you can't come over here anymore. You can't be in Rayna's life."
My mouth fell open. So did Brady's, but then his eyes narrowed. "You got a reason for this decision? You can't keep us apart. She's an adult."
"It's obvious that you two plan on continuing to have sex and I can't have that. I have to look out for Rayna. You can't be in her life. I can't trust that it won't happen again even if you promise me that."
Slowly, I stood up. "He is my best friend."
Viola stared at me. "Brady is wrong for you. You can't be around him."
"He's my only friend."
"Wrong? What the hell?" Brady stood and clipped out, "I haven't hurt her. Yes, I shouldn't have pushed for sex, but you don't know what I was feeling then. You don't know how scared—" He stopped suddenly and looked down as his fists clenched and then unclenched.
I watched, fascinated. They kept clenching and unclenching. Then I looked at his face. His eyes were tightly closed. His jaw mirrored his hand movements, clenching and then clenching again. He was so tightly strained. I was afraid when the control would leave him…
"I can't explain it. I'm sorry, Brady. I….," her voice faltered on a sob. "I am so sorry it has to be this way. I wanted you two to be close. I wanted you to grow up with each other and lean on each other. I just never thought…" She took a shuddering breath. "I never thought it'd end like this. I never thought in a million years…I mean…Brady's so different than my baby."
I should've been falling apart. I should've been wailing, pleading, or threatening. I wasn't doing any of it. I stood there and stared at the two people who I loved most. They were both falling apart and it was because of me. It was then that I realized that I had checked out. I was watching a show play out in front of me. I was the audience, but I had no bearing on the show's content. Or…maybe I was starting to figure things out, maybe for the first time.
"I can see Rayna if I want," Brady argued though he wouldn't look up.
My grandmother shook her head. Her hair strands flew around with the jalapeno potholders in the air. She choked out, "I can't. I can't risk it. I'm sorry, Brady. I love you like my own grandson. I do, but I have to think of Rayna first. This is detrimental to her."
"What? The sex? Are you for real?" The fury was right there, just swimming under his control. He took a step closer. "Rayna's going to be with another guy then. She's going to have sex, but he won't care for her like me. He won't be the guy for her that I can be!"
Everything seemed to slam against me. I felt myself hurled back into reality and it hurt. I whispered out, "How dare you stand there and say those things."
Viola cried out, "I'm sorry, baby. I am, but I can't…"
My eyes were glued on Brady. "You just sat on my bed and talked about our 'friendship.' You just tried to hide from me, hide from what we've become, and now when you're faced with losing it, you do this? Look at you. What are you going to do? Punch my grandmother? Because she said we couldn't be together when you're the one who was going to tell me the same thing?"
"Oh." Viola hustled back a step.
Brady faced me squarely. A storm of emotions flew across his face, but I saw the last one. Regret.
"Tell me you weren't going to say that. Tell me I'm wrong. You're not fighting against something that you were going to do anyway."
"Rayna," he started.
"Tell me!"
/> He broke, "I can't. I just…"
"You are such a hypocrite!" I screamed and then I grabbed the first thing I saw. I threw my pillow at him. When it bounced off him and he didn't deflect it, I threw the other one. Then I threw my blankets, a book, and I caught the frame in my hand. I reared back, ready to throw it, but stopped myself. I stopped with my chest heaving and stared at it in my hand.
He allowed me to breathe that day and now it was all gone.
When I looked up, I didn't care what Brady saw in my eyes. My heart was broken. "Get out. Get out. Get out!"
"Rayna, come on…"
"Out!" I screamed again and this time I chucked the picture frame at him. He ducked and it shattered against the door.
I fell on the bed. The pain was so strong. I didn't notice when Brady left until I finally looked up and only saw my grandmother. She held a hand to her chest and watched me in concern. I could barely stomach her concern, not now, not after everything she'd lied to me about.
It was then that I asked, "So is Frank Stephens my father…or Brady's?"
I sat there for a full minute; of course it was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like an hour. My grandmother stared aghast while I sat there, tear drenched. I felt like I was facing death. The idea of Brady and me being kin…or more…I shuddered and clamped my hands closed.
It was the only thing that made sense.
"Whose father is he because with the way you're acting, he's got to be one of our dads. So who is it?" I sounded firm, but my insides were turning inside and out. When I felt vomit come up my throat, I closed my eyes tightly and forced it back down. I couldn't go there…I couldn't deal with that….not knowing…
Finally I heard, "He's Brady's."
She whimpered like she was ashamed. I was disgusted and I turned away.
I took a breath.
"And me? Who's my father?" I'd never been told. I barely even knew my mother and I'd never asked. I wanted to know, but if it meant what I feared it meant I knew no amount of vomiting could empty my insides. I loved Brady. I loved him so much and if those words that she might utter passed through her lips…. I sat there paralyzed. They were the hardest words I've ever had to wait for.
Viola whispered, "I don't know who your father is."
"Explain." I didn't blink. I didn't ponder. I needed to know.
"Your mother was one of the most devout girls I've ever known. I was almost ashamed."
I shot to my feet and exclaimed, "I don't want to hear this! I want to hear who my father is!"
"I'm trying to tell you. I have to explain, Rayna. I've got to explain it all or it won't make any sense."
The need sat on me as if it was a separate entity.
Viola kept going, painfully, "You know I'm not no religion nut. Neither is your granddad, but he believes. I don't know what I did right, or maybe what I did wrong, but your momma grew up going to church. She wanted it. She asked every Sunday to go there. We went, but when she could drive, she drove herself. That was how it was."
She took a breath.
"I have never claimed to be the best mother. Ever. But with your mother…she was a lot like you. I felt like she raised me. I don't know what genes you girls got, but what's done is done. She ain't anything like me. She grew up going to church. She planned for the future. Leann liked bake sales. I have no idea why and then…" She drew in a quaking breath. "He came along. He was young. He was good looking. He was rich. He was on the rise."
"Frank Stephens?" There was nothing in me when I said his name, my possible father. I almost loathed him.
Viola nodded. "When Frank first hit the scene, he was dashing. I'll admit. He had a charisma about him. And he was funny. He could charm anyone. I was a bit taken with him myself, but that's all an old lady does. She looks at what might've been without a few years attached, but it don't matter. It all changed when he met Leann. Of course, he was married by then. Newly married, but he wasn't the marrying sorts. Everyone knew it."
My fingers pressed into my hands. Blood seeped from them.
My grandmother continued, "He took one look at her and thought he had the granddaddy of all challenges. Truthfully, I don't know who won that battle. Leann had stopped talking to me by then. She wanted to grow up in the church. I was having none of it. I wanted her to live. I wanted her to have babies. I wanted her to laugh, to cry, to get her heart broken. I wanted her not to have any regrets when she reached my age, but it didn't matter. She was so stubborn and the two of us didn't see eye to eye."
"Is he my father or not?"
Viola surrendered, "I don't know. Maybe. Hell, no. I don't know. I just know that he wanted your mother so badly and things got bad. Frank was pressuring Leann to have an affair with him. He said he loved her, he wanted to be with her, he'd leave his wife, etc., etc., etc. They all say the same things. It don't matter because in the end, if she gave in or not, Leann decided to go to Florida for some reason. She said something about maybe finding salvation down there. I don't know what that meant. I just know that Frank Stephens was heartbroken, if he could be heartbroken."
"What then?" I knew it didn't end there.
Viola seemed to crumble before my eyes. She'd been standing near the door and now she looked like the world conquered her. As she folded to the floor, she choked on a sob. "I have no idea."
"You must!" It couldn't end like that.
"I don't!" she cried in return and held her hands in front of her. She looked at them like she didn't know what to do with them. "I wish I knew. I wish I understood it all, but I don't. All I know is that she brought you up here about a year and half later. She asked us to raise you because it wasn't safe for you. Your momma and I don't have the kind of relationship where we tell each other things. We don't say nothing to each other. You don't think it eats at me? It does! I have a daughter who I don't know nothing about, but I got one thing from her. I got you! I got you, Rayna!"
I sat there and watched my grandmother. She'd been the fiercest woman I'd known all my life. She could've stared a bull down most days, but not today. As she sat on my floor, I knew my grandmother was crying for more than not knowing my father. My mother was in the room with us. Her presence was so strong, so powerful, that I looked towards my window and wondered if I'd see her.
"I don't know who your father is. I'm sorry, Rayna. I know it's so awful. Only your mother knows that and we haven't heard from her in six years."
I didn't know what to say. I'd been so terrified and then nothing. I got no answers. "What do I say to Brady?"
Viola shook her head.
I couldn't not tell him. I couldn't let him go on with his life not knowing why we couldn't be in each other's lives, much less knowing that I loved him.
"How do you know that Frank Stephens is his father?"
Viola looked me straight in the eye and spoke in a clear voice, "Because he brought him to me. He showed up here one night and said the mom didn't want him. He was his, but he wanted us to give Brady to Leann. He wanted her to raise his son. He didn't know where she was. He didn't know anything at that time except that she'd left. He kept asking us where she was, but we never told." Viola nodded with tears on her cheeks. She repeated, "Brady came from an affair that he'd had when he was chasing Leann. At that time, Frank was still with his wife. He hadn't divorced her yet, but it didn't matter. Everyone knew Frank Stephens was a skirt-chasing bastard, but on paper he was squeaky clean. It was always rumors. A kid would've been proof that he was the bastard everyone said. I went…" She took a deep breath and composed herself. "I went crazy when he offered Brady to us. I lost it. I'd been patient with him, but when he said that about a child—I didn't care if he'd been the devil, I would've taken a pitchfork to him."
I watched as she remembered that night. Her hands curled slowly into fists. Her voice raised, stronger and angrier.
She seethed, "I snatched that baby out of his arms and I ordered him to get the hell away from us. I told him to stay away from Leann and stay out of this c
hild's life. He had no right to act like God. He had no right to pass along a child like the child had no soul. No right!" She waited until she had calmed a bit. "He didn't give one damn about Brady. Not one care for him. I told him that Leann never wanted to see him, and if he ever tried to claim Brady as his son, I would go to the police."
I could almost see that night unfold. A younger looking and trimmer Frank Stephens stood at the door with a baby in his arms. My grandmother was on the other side, hearing what he had to say with horror.
Viola finished, "Frank Stephens didn't like anything I said. Something snapped in him too. After that night, he went crazy. I think he might've realized it really was over with Leann. I don't know. I didn't care, but he went through a host of women after that. Eventually his wife found out and they got divorced. By that time, she'd already had Kidrick, but it didn't matter. The damage was done."
"What about all those things about Mom? If she only slept with him, why does everyone say she's a whore?"
"He wanted to hurt us…me really. He knew how your momma really was, so he said the opposite. He knew it'd hurt us if people thought Leann was a loose woman. It did at first, but then I got mad. I got all my friends to freeze Frank Stephens out of anything and everything. Those women knew your mother. She'd gone to church with them. She'd baked beside them. They knew what really happened and I'll tell you that damage can be planned at a monthly Ladies Aid meeting."
She laughed to herself. "We knew what to do. Each of them went to their husbands and Frank Stephens was frozen out of every business venture he hoped to have. Any banking loans he wanted were cancelled. He was denied membership at the two country clubs he wanted into. Pretty soon he stopped saying those things about your momma, but it didn't matter. People talked. They gossip, they'll always gossip. But Frank Stephens was put in his place."
There was so much history in that room. It swirled around me and it hurt. It hurt Brady. It hurt my grandmother. For the first time, I wondered how it hurt my mother.
"I threatened Frank that I'd go to the police if he ever tried anything with Brady. I knew if he was willing to give the child away, he couldn't be trusted to raise him. I ended up going to the station anyway. Deputy Doug was working as the dispatcher that night. I told him what had happened. I had Brady with me and the two of us figured to keep it quiet. He had proof to bring against Frank if he ever did anything, but that's when Brady went into foster care. He stayed with us for a little while until Doug found a family to place him with. I'm afraid to say that Brady bounced around to a few homes, but Doug worked closely with the social worker. They finally found the Forresters right by us. I wanted him close. I wasn't stupid. By that time, I knew about you and I knew that Frank had been going down to Florida. I never asked, but I always wondered if you and Brady were siblings. I wanted the two of you to grow up together. I thought he could be the big brother to look out for his little sister. I just never…"
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