Never Did Say

by C. M. Stunich

  “He had no motive,” my mother quips, glancing over her shoulder at me. “All he cared about then was fucking me and drinking away my money.”

  When she disappears around the corner, I close my eyes and hug my baby close. When I open them and look back at Ty, I find him sitting up and staring at me with a longing ache in his eyes, drinking me in like I matter.

  I matter.

  And that's all I give a wild shit about.

  12

  New Year's Eve and my mom is still at the cabin. Fortunately, she avoids Ty and me like the plague, but that hasn't stopped her from throwing barbs at everyone else. I even heard her give Beth crap over her haircut, like my sister isn't busy enough taking care of a half-dozen kids, most of which aren't even hers. I try not to engage, but it's like walking through a swarm of stinging bees and not swatting at each and every one of them.

  “Too bad I won't get any champagne tonight,” I say, resting my chin on my arms and staring at the bottles that Noah produces from a paper grocery bag. “No booze, no cigarettes, just a bellyful of baby, McCabe baby at that. He makes ornery little fuckers, if you didn't already know that.”

  Noah smiles and moves over to the freezer, opening it and peering inside.

  “No booze, but there are strawberries. Ty asked me to get some when I was at the store. Did you want a smoothie or something?” I smile as I put my hand on my belly. Not only did Ty remember my addiction, but I also find Noah adorable, even if he's not my tortured other half. He seriously needs to be a part of this family, one way or another. Besides, I can see it in both their eyes: my sister and Noah Scott are hopelessly, tragically, inextricably in love with each other.

  “I would love that, Noah, thanks.”

  He proceeds to get out the smoothie ingredients while I watch and wait, deciding exactly how I should bring up the subject of him and Zella.

  I decide to start with this.

  “So I hear you banged my sister in the pond.”

  Noah drops the bag of frozen strawberries and it explodes, sending bright red fireworks across the floor. He immediately drops to his knees and starts to pick them up, glancing over at me from beneath a fall of liquid gold hair. When I try to rise to my feet to help, I feel rough, warm hands close over my shoulders.

  “I've got it, babe.”

  Ty kneels next to Noah and doesn't even pretend he didn't hear what I just said.

  “You banged my sister-in-law, huh?”

  Noah grunts but doesn't bother to elaborate. If I'm not mistaken, a red flush colors his cheeks, bright enough to rival the round crimson spots of strawberry littered across the floor. Ty chooses not to take the hint and continues to prod at my high school sweetheart.

  “And in the pond? Must've been cold as dick out there. How'd you ever manage that one?”

  “It just happened,” Noah whispers, pushing the half full bag in front of him as he moves across the floor. He pauses for a moment and adjusts the shirt that Ty got him for Christmas. Yes, that's right. Not only did the love of my life name our kid after my ex, he also bought him a present. The shirt is tight and fits in all the right places. Don't get the wrong idea here, I only noticed because Zella did. She hasn't been able to take her eyes off of him. “I'm in love with her, but she … ” He trails off and stares down at the T-shirt like he's trying to memorize the design. The pixelated white knight stares up at him, sword raised, his blonde hair shining under a printed sun. Nice guys finish last, but usually, they get the highest score.

  My husband certainly has a thing for tees with catch phrases on them.

  “She thinks I'm still in love with you,” Noah says, not looking at Ty or me or anyone else.

  “No,” I tell him, drawing his blue eyes up to mine. “She's too afraid to find out what it feels like to have love, real, true, honest to God, shatter the heart and tantalize the spirit kind of love. It's a disease in our family, and only you can be the cure.”

  Ty chuckles, and I smile, but we don't get to revel in this feeling of friendship that's blossoming between the three of us because, of course, my mom won't let things be easy or right or perfect.

  “I found this,” she says, storming into the kitchen and lifting up the photo album that Beth gave me. Her fingers are curled around the spine like she wishes she could choke the life out of those photographs the same way Luis choked the life out of my Papa. If the bitch had stuck around long enough to participate in any family time, she would've already seen it. “What the fuck is this?”

  I stand up off of the stool because I don't like the tone of her voice, the insinuation in her eyes, like this album has anything at all to do with her. Inside, I've always been a mess. On the outside, I can handle my shit. I've fought off more unwanted advances than I can remember, told off more people that I care to count, and defended myself against the worst of words – many of which were true. Even if I'm hurting and my stomach aches and I wish my mother would spontaneously combust, I can still stand up to her. I did it before and it cost me everything. This, this is nothing.

  “If I didn't know any better,” I begin as Ty and Noah rise to their feet behind me, “I'd think you wanted to find a reason to hate me. You're cruel, Angelica, and you're lazy. Oh, and you're the most self-centered person I've ever met in my life. But you left my room locked and frozen in time for five years, so tell me, what is your problem? I can't figure you out.”

  My mother turns her head, just enough that her curls tumble over her shoulders and her earrings, a pair of bright blue butterflies, swing with the motion.

  And then she throws my father into the flames of the fireplace.

  A scream rips from my throat, a tearing sound that twists my heart in two. My dad is already dead, already an enigma, a mystery, a collection of forgotten memories, and now these few, few pictures, this symbol of love from my sister, is burning like the hatred in my mother's eyes.

  I rush forward before I can stop myself, but a hand wraps around my waist, pulling me back. Before I even realize what he's doing, Ty McCabe is reaching into the fire and ripping the album out of the orange and yellow, the flickering biting mouth of the fire.

  He drops it on the stones in front of the fireplace and shakes out his fingers, cursing as he steps on the book with his black combat boots. Within seconds, the book is smoldering but no longer in flames, crisped at the edges but still intact.

  My mother doesn't even say a damn a word, just turns and flees like the coward she is while I rush to Ty McCabe, my soul mate, my one in seven billion, and take his hand in mine. His rough fingers curl around mine while I try to assess the damage. A few pink spots dot his knuckles, like the wings of Ty's monarch butterfly tattoo are fading into his skin, stealing away its flight.

  I look up into his brown eyes and even though what he did was a stupid, stupid, stupid thing to do, I heart the fuck out of him for it.

  “We need to get something on these burns,” I say as he traps me in a hug with his right hand and pulls us together, firmly but not roughly, ever aware of the still healing scars on my belly.

  “Never,” he says as I try to pull away, to take care of him the way he's always taking care of me. Ty won't let, keeping me close, leaning down and finding my lips, tasting them softly. “I want you to look at me, and I want you to let it all fall away.”

  “Ty, I – ” He squeezes me a little tighter, just enough, his face so soft and tender and beautiful that I can barely breathe.

  “Just let it go, baby. Take a breath and say goodbye to the bullshit.”

  I can feel the frustration and the panic and the … rage. I feel so much rage right now, I can barely stand straight. My last memories of my father niggle at the edges of my brain, bringing up several thoughts that I've long since kept buried but never forgot. Why did Luis kill my dad? I'd wondered before if it was about custody (even if Angelica denies it), but then, Luis didn't try to make a reappearance in our lives until much, much later. So why? Why?

  “He had no motive,” my mother quips,
glancing over her shoulder at me. “All he cared about then was fucking me and drinking away my money.”

  My breath catches sharply.

  Because my mother asked him to.

  The revelation rocks me to my core, like the big Pacific Coast quake everyone's always worrying about. Luis is a lazy drunk, a drifter, a useless sack of nothing. Of course he wouldn't have come up with the idea to kill my father on his own. It seems so obvious now, but …

  Besides, why would Luis care about Jade anyway? Even if your father wanted her, Luis didn't.

  Angelica's words from last night flood my brain until it's impossible for me to form a single, rational thought.

  I take a shuddering breath and try to wriggle away from Ty, but he's not budging.

  Noah, on the other hand, looks like he's just snapped in half. Both Ty and I watch in bewildered fascination as the blonde haired, blue-eyed boy from my past whirls out of the kitchen like a demon wrenched from the depths of hell.

  I'm almost as shocked by his actions as I am by my epiphany.

  “I want you out,” he says, voice low and simmering with an anger that could've only built after years and years and years of my mother's bullshit. It's so … deep. Angelica is the one who tore us apart, who broke Jade, who twisted Zella, who enslaved Beth. And Noah's had a front row seat to it all.

  “Excuse me, young man?” Angelica asks, her voice still perfectly portraying the damaged victim. Or maybe she's just shocked because Noah has always been so damn nice to her.

  “I want you off my property immediately. Pack your things and go.”

  Ty finally lets me go, our fingers curling together as I pull him towards the living room to see the confrontation taking place. He cringes a little when I touch his burned hand, but he doesn't stop, pausing behind me in the kitchen entrance.

  Beth is standing behind one of the couches with Darla's little fingers curled in her hand. Lettie and Lorri sit on the couch next to India, a book clutched in her frozen hands. Everyone looks confused, surprised, maybe even a little bit nervous, but nobody looks as bad as Jade.

  She stares at our mother with quivering lips and tears streaking her dark makeup down her face. Something else happened before my mother brought that album to me, something terrible. I can see it in my sister's face.

  “Noah, what's going on?” Zella asks, taking a tentative step forward. The lights in the living room, the glow from the second fireplace, all of it presses this warm cozy aura down around us that's so at odds with the emotions in the room that I could scream.

  “I want Angelica out. Now. Take your things and go. I've seen so much abuse from you and I've never said a word, but I'm saying one now. I can't fucking take it anymore. You … you're awful and you're wicked. I won't sit back and watch it anymore.”

  “Well, you can forget about showing your face on my property ever again,” my mother snaps, thrusting a hand out at Noah. The colored bangles on her arm ring, the sound a strange, terrible mimicry of the beauty that Ty's jewelry makes.

  Without another word, she turns on her heel and disappears up the steps to her guest room.

  I consider following after her, blurting the words from my lips that I've only just figured out.

  You asked Luis to kill Dad. You. You. You. Deny it all you want, I can finally see it now.

  I lick my lips, heart fluttering wildly in my throat, and then glance back at McCabe. He's starting at and through me, and I know he can tell I've come to sort some sort of conclusion. Then I catch sight of his injured hand, fingers curled, a slight quiver in his arm that he's trying to fight back. Going after my mom, yelling at her, confronting her, it won't do any good. I should know that by now.

  In that instant I have to make a decision: choose the past or the present, the rage or the love, my mother or Ty.

  I choose Ty.

  I'd choose Ty a billion times over.

  I step towards him, taking his left hand in my own, careful not to touch his burns.

  “There's some aloe vera in the kitchen,” I say, fighting back tears, frustration, knowing that none of it matters. My husband reached through flames for me.

  “What are you even doing? Trying to be a hero?” Zella asks, and I glance over in time to see Noah cringe. I have no idea what she's so angry about, but I don't have the energy to deal with her right now. “Just butt out, Noah. This is family business.” She darts up the stairs and disappears into her own room, slamming the door behind her.

  A few seconds later, Lacey and Trini appear, each carrying one of the babies who, as if they can sense the atmosphere, both decide to start crying. In the strange chaos that ensues, it's hard to keep track of everybody and everything that's going on.

  A few minutes after we hear my mom's station wagon pull down the driveway, Beth comes sprinting into the kitchen with sweat dripping down her face, her eyes wide and pupils dilated.

  “Has anyone seen Darla?”

  13

  Beth is sobbing so hard that she can barely move her lips, can barely tell the dispatcher on the other end of the line what the problem is. At least Lorri spied Angelica from the window by the front door, putting Darla in the backseat. At least we know she isn't in the pond or in the forest or something as equally horrific as that. Doesn't seem to be helping Beth much though.

  I stand beside her, my son in my arms, my eyes on the album that lies by my sister's elbow. Some of the pictures are a little warped on the edges, but for the most part, the smiles and the memories of my father remain. As soon as I get a chance, I'm going to scan them in and upload them to the cloud. As of right now, I have to watch as Ty gently untangles the phone from Beth's fingers.

  Just as I'd feared, just as my mother had known, the police can't do anything. Beth might be Darla's mother for all intents and purposes, but legally, she has no claim on her. They're simply sisters, and Angelica is technically her mom. Technically. As in, the same way a guy that donates sperm at the sperm bank is a father to his long forgotten seed.

  It's a stretch.

  “I can't believe this is happening,” my sister says, her crestfallen face splotchy and tear stained. “Darla is … Mom left the day Darla came home from the hospital and didn't come back for six weeks. I fed her, changed her diapers. I made every doctor's appointment. I even named her. Did Mom tell you that?” she spins to look at me, hazel eyes piercing. I swear, the gold flecks in them glimmer with barely suppressed rage. “She told me to choose and I did. And now she wants to take my daughter and run off without answering her fucking PHONE!” Beth stands up and slams her palms on the counter, making Mini McCabe cry. Without a second's hesitation, my sister reaches out and takes my son from me, calming him down with a practiced hand and hugging him to her chest like a lifeline.

  I cross my arms over my chest and watch her, my heart breaking all over again.

  Angelica only took Darla to prove a point, to stab a needle into the family unit and watch it bleed. She doesn't give two shits about her own child.

  “What if she takes her to one of her awful friends' houses?” Beth asks, referencing a lifetime of 'sleepovers' that we were forced to endure. I remember once when my mom took Beth and me to some nudist party thing and made us sit in the corner while she smoked pot and had sex with some random guy. Beth was seven; I was five. “I can't even believe this is happening. I can't … I don't even know how to process this.”

  “We could drive back to the house and see if she went home?” Zella asks, looking over at Noah. Something strange passes between them, and I can only wonder what happened after Noah went after her. Because he did. That's right. He actually went up the stairs and used a skeleton key to force his way into her room. For once in his life, Noah looks like he's actually ready to fight for something. There's still tension between them, but since Zella's down here and not in hiding, they must've worked at least a few of their issues out. I see them exchange a glance, but can't summon up the energy to smile. Angelica's actions are overshadowing everything, including the fa
ct that the new year is less than minutes away.

  Beth nods sharply and hands Mini McCabe back to Ty. I watch as my lover takes our child in one bandaged hand and one ringed one, supporting him with a jingle of bracelets as we exchange a look of our own.

  “Go. But be careful. The roads are icy and there are always lots of drunk people on these country roads.” Beth pauses. “Not to mention the fact that it's New Year's fucking Eve.” Another pause as she puts her hands on her hips and spins in a slow circle. “You know what? Maybe you shouldn't go. I don't want to put you in danger, too.”

  “It's not a big deal, Beth, we'll be careful.” Zella takes a step closer to her and then stops. There's an awkwardness between them, born of Zella's expulsion from school and her subsequent lie. Yet another issue this family will have to deal with together. If I have to, I'll bring it up myself. I've seen what happens when someone runs from conflict; I've lived it. “You're not going to sleep or eat or even sit still until we find Darla. Let Noah and me go, and we can at least rule out one place she might be. Do you have Mom's new boyfriend's phone number?”

  “I don't even know his name,” Beth whispers, reaching down to touch the singed album. Her eyes alight with tears again and she shakes her head before another sob breaks from her throat. “Please let her be okay. Please, please, please.”

  I leave the room and Ty follows, moving up to stand beside me. I can't keep myself from looking at his bandaged hand.

  “I fucking love your face,” I tell him and he nods, like this is simple fact.

  “I heart the freaking shit out of yours,” he confirms, and I manage a slight smile. I haven't had a chance to talk to Ty about my seemingly obvious revelation. Mom wanted Dad dead. Period. How, why, I had never really made this connection before is just a sign of how damaged I am. It seems so obvious now. I mean, it's the only real explanation there is. Luis was a piece of shit, but why would he decide to hit our home, kill my father, all for no reason at all? The only connection here is Angelica. The only question left is why.