by Trudy Stiles
“That’s amazing. You’re lucky to have all of them.” Sam met my parents about two months ago. I could tell that my mother adored her, and she kept throwing looks my way. I think she could sense something I wasn’t yet aware of. She looks a little sad, and I hope the talk of my big family doesn’t upset her. I don’t even know anything about hers. Maybe she has cousins out there somewhere too?
“What about your family?” I ask.
“I don’t have a huge family like you. My mother was an only child, and my father’s only sister is Aunt Peggy. I miss my parents so much and I hold them close to my heart. My mother gave me so many gifts, but the most important gift she gave me was to give of myself to others. I know she’s looking down on me right now, thrilled that I’m a nurse. She always told me that I had a higher purpose and I never believed her until I took that oath in nursing school.”
She pauses to reflect on the love she has for her mother.
“When my father saved me from drowning, he also gave me the desire and push to be brave. He gave me the gift of unconditional love and understanding. His gift allows me to open my heart to anyone, and it gives me the desire to help heal. He was a wonderful man, and Heaven is a better place with him there.”
“I know you’re right,” I say, and realize that my father is probably in Hell.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t pretend my life was a fairytale when I was younger, but I have to believe in the gifts my parents gave to me in order to make sense of their deaths.”
“Can you tell me about it?” I ask, expecting she’ll decline.
“About their deaths?” she responds.
“Yes.”
“They were murdered.” She tenses next to me, and I softly run my fingers up and down her arm.
“I know. But how?” My morbid curiosity takes control as well as my sudden desire to take this awful memory from her forever.
She inhales deeply and says simply, “They were blown up in their own home by a deranged man looking for money and drugs.”
My head begins to spin as the reality of what she just said sinks in. “What?” I ask, and I’m not prepared to hear anything more. I sit up in bed and place my head on my knees. Her voice becomes distant and is replaced by Bill’s voice.
“He killed himself,” Bill says to me solemnly through the phone.
I almost crumble in place as his words hit me in the chest. “How?” I ask again, but know I don’t want to hear anything more.
“You should come home,” he says, and I immediately deny his request.
“No! What good will that do? He’s dead. I haven’t seen him since I was seven, and he killed himself before he could see me now.”
“Garrett, you don’t understand. There’s more that we need to tell you,” Bill pleads with me, and I can hear my mother sobbing in the background.
“What more could you possibly say? He’s dead, Bill. He’s been dead to me for years.”
“He killed himself along with two other people. It was a murder-suicide.”
“What?” I ask, barely audible to myself.
“He was in a treatment facility not too far from here when he disappeared. They called your mother the other day to see if she’d heard anything from him. She explained that she hasn’t heard from him in years and had no idea he was even in this facility. They told her she was listed as his only relative and that if she should hear from him, they needed to know immediately. They explained that he was a danger to himself and others.”
I can’t take this all in. It’s too much to comprehend.
“Who did he kill?” I ask.
“A husband and wife in Newtown on Hickory Avenue.”
“How?” I ask in disbelief.
“The police believe he filled their home with gas from their stove and used a lighter. The explosion leveled the house.”
I drop my phone and make a mad dash for the bathroom. I puke up everything in my stomach and more. How could my father do this? Why would he do this?
I curl up in the bathroom stall and try to drown out the noise from the bar. Animated voices joking and flirting. People who have normal lives with normal families. None of them are related to a murderer.
None of them have to look in the mirror and be forever branded with the sins of their father.
“Garrett?” Sam’s voice echoes in my ears and I snap out of my daze. I flinch when she touches my shoulder.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” she asks, and her concern turns to fear.
“Sam…” I say weakly and place my hand over hers. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Garrett. Even though it was difficult, I’ve come to terms with their deaths in the best way that I can. Please don’t look at me like that. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a look filled with pity.” She pleads with me, and I can’t help but feel worse.
I need to tell her.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
“Stop,” she says, begging me not to continue. Her eyes are huge with fear.
“My father… died in a similar way. Sam, he’s killed people. He died at 842 Hickory Avenue.” I almost choke on the words that come out of my mouth.
Her eyes widen in disbelief, and she whimpers next to me. She begins rocking in place on the bed and shaking her head violently from side to side. “Stop. Stop talking,” she screams. “This isn’t true. No. No. No. NO!” she yells and starts hyperventilating. Her breathing is erratic and shallow.
I don’t know how to calm her down, and the memories of the days that follow are so vivid and clear.
“June McAllister, reporting live from 842 Hickory Avenue in Newtown. The scene of an apparent murder-suicide. Benjamin and Katherine Weston, unsuspecting parents of a teenaged girl, were overtaken in their own home by John Horton. We’ve since learned that Mrs. Weston was several months pregnant, expecting their second child. Family of Mr. Horton was unavailable for comment, but his former wife Claire Armstrong released a statement through her representative.
“’My heart goes out to the family of Benjamin and Katherine Weston. I can’t erase the pain John has caused all of you, but I can tell you I’m so incredibly sorry for your loss. I don’t ask you to understand his actions but that someday you find it in your hearts the power to forgive him. I’m so sorry.’
“John Horton’s son was also unavailable for comment, and his whereabouts are unknown. John’s former wife, Claire, asks that you respect her family’s privacy at this time and focus on offering prayers for the Weston’s orphaned teenaged daughter.”
“I’m so sorry, Sam.” I pull her shaking body into mine. “I don’t know what else to say. I didn’t know. Oh my God. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t touch me,” she screams as if I’m stabbing her repeatedly. “Get away from me!”
I release her from my grip and she bolts out of the bed.
“Sam?” I say as she pulls on her clothes and runs for the door.
“Sam!” I yell after her as I hear her running down the hall and the stairs. The front door opens and slams shut and tires squeal as she tears down the driveway.
I’m unable to move from the bed. I’m frozen in place with the vision of her family home charred and burned to the ground.
An ash-filled house of death where our families are forever entombed together.
Sam
Present
Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 24
I HIT SPEED DIAL OVER AND OVER again. It goes to voicemail every single time.
“Aunt Peggy,” I cry into the phone. “Please pick up.”
I bang my hands on the steering wheel and merge onto the interstate. I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t care.
How is this happening?
Garrett’s father killed my family?
GARRETT’S FATHER KILLED MY FAMILY.
I press my foot to the floor and accelerate as fast as I can.
My cell phone rings and I look down at the Caller ID.
Garrett.
I send the call to voicemail and throw the phone into the back seat. I slam my foot to the floor and drive.
And then I scream.
My tears flow through my wails. It’s hard to see, but I keep going. I grip the wheel; my knuckles turn white. Is this my fault? If Ben hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have ever met Garrett and Kai, and things would be normal. Right? This is a sick twist of fate that I don’t deserve. I realize I’m being selfish, but who fucking cares. I don’t deserve this. I fell in love for the first time in my life with not just one person, but two. Garrett and Kai. The reel keeps playing in my head, and I fast-forward to a future vision when Kai’s a toddler, running around and playing with his father. And me. I have no right to envision what could have been. They aren’t my family. Garrett’s father took that away from me.
My sobs fill the car playing a sad, sick tune to the emptiness. Memories continue to flash through my mind as if I’m re-living every single moment. Every piercing cry from Kai’s small body. Every touch and yearning look from Garrett. All of the highs and all of the lows. We spent the better part of six months forming a support structure to help protect and nurture his son. It all came crashing down today in a burning pile of ash.
I wipe my eyes and see a highway sign.
Hershey.
I’ve been driving for at least an hour and a half. I look down at my gas gauge and see I only have about a quarter of a tank left. And I don’t have my wallet or purse with me.
Fuck.
I take the next exit and turn around. I hope I can at least make it back to my aunt’s house with what’s left in my tank of gas.
My cell phone starts ringing again from the back seat. I reach back and tap my hand around, trying to find it. I finally grab it and see the caller ID.
Garrett.
Again.
Garrett
Present
Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 27
“HERE’S DADDY.” PEGGY’S CHEERFUL VOICE echoes through the kitchen where I’m pacing back and forth. I’ve been dialing Sam’s number constantly for the past hour since she left. She won’t pick up and I’m sick.
When Peggy walks into the kitchen with Kai, she freezes in her steps. “Garrett? What’s going on?” she asks hesitantly, and she looks alarmed.
“Not now,” I say and hit Sam’s speed dial again. This time it goes right to voicemail. “Sam, it’s me. Call me, please. I need to know you’re okay. Please,” I plead and end the call.
Peggy holds Kai close and asks again, “What’s going on? Is Sam okay?”
I stop pacing and look at her. She’s terrified, and Kai senses it too.
“Peggy, something happened. I can’t even begin to explain it.”
She kisses Kai on his forehead and says to him, “It’s time for your nap. I know you’re exhausted after the fun day we had.” She turns to me, “I’ll be down soon. Don’t go anywhere.”
I continue to call Sam’s phone and can’t get through.
Before I know it, Peggy is standing in front of me. “What’s going on?”
I drop my arms down to my sides and lower my head. “Peggy, there’s something you need to know. Something I just found out.”
She sits tentatively on the stool in the kitchen and her eyes widen. “Is Sam alright?” she asks, worried.
I plant myself on the floor across from her and tell her everything. All that I’ve found out about how our families are connected. What my father did to her brother and sister-in-law, Sam’s parents. As I recount the stories that I knew growing up along with what swirled around our local news stations, her eyes become more and more drawn. Tears spill down her cheeks and I feel like I’m personally responsible for them. For what my father has done. For the lives of their family that have been destroyed.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say,” I say to Peggy as she stares off into space. “What can I do?” I ask.
She wipes the tears from her face and inhales deeply. Her shock is tangible.
“There’s nothing to do,” she says simply.
“What?” I ask in disbelief.
“You didn’t do this, Garrett. Your father did. You have no control over what that man did with his life. You yourself told me that the last time you laid eyes on him was when you were seven. How could you possibly know or even predict that he would murder two people at the same time he took his own life? It’s impossible. You can’t own his crimes. You can’t take the blame for his sins.”
“But Sam…” I say, hoping that she’s okay.
“Does she know?” Peggy asks, concerned.
“Yes, I figured it out an hour ago and told her. When she told me how her parents died, I realized immediately that it was my father who killed them. I had no idea, Peggy. How could I have not known?” When I found out that my father was a murderer, I shut out everything. I refused to watch anything on TV about what he did. The media was relentless, and the faces of her parents were everywhere. I shut everything out, including their names. Soon after, Epic Fail started touring and we wound up in Europe for months. Nobody knew me there and what my father had done.
She pulls me into a hug and rubs my back like my mother always did when I was younger.
“You could be asking me the same question,” Peggy says. “How could I have not known? I’ve been working for you for close to six years. I followed the story when it happened to the point of obsession. I tried to trace everything about that man and what made him tick. I tried to understand what would cause a human being to take another’s life from them. I did everything I could to unearth the mysteries surrounding your father.”
“My last name was changed when I was a teenager. My stepdad adopted me after my mother had my father’s parental rights terminated. I took the name Armstrong to make it official.”
“That explains why I couldn’t find his family when I was looking,” she says, nodding her head.
“I’m worried about Sam.”
“Me too. But one thing you need to know about her is that she rarely gets this upset. Her rational, logical mind always wins and takes over in almost all situations. She’ll be back.” But I don’t think that Peggy believes what she’s saying.
And neither do I.
Sam
Present
Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 24
“GOODNIGHT, DR. HAGAN,” I SAY as I walk out the door of the NICU. “Take care,” she says through her ever-present warm smile.
Since I’ve been back to work, my life has started to get back to normal. I think. My daily routine consists of a walk or jog, depending on my mood, a light breakfast and then an action-packed day at the hospital. So, yeah, normal.
My phone buzzes and I see a text message on the screen.
MAX: THANKS AGAIN FOR THE REFERRAL. KAI IS AMAZING AND THINGS ARE GOING REALLY WELL. TALK SOON.
I smile and place my phone into my backpack. I’m so relieved that Garrett hired Max. He was number one on my list to replace me, and it’s working out great so far. Or at least that’s what Peggy tells me.
Garrett and I haven’t spoken since I left three months ago. My heart is empty, and it still hurts. How can I possibly be with a man whose father murdered my family? Every time he looked at me, touched me, made love to me, I would think of all that was taken away. I’ve heard nothing but grief from Aunt Peggy about all of this. Our conversation last night replays in my head.
“How was work, Sam?” Aunt Peggy asks, making small-talk.
“It’s good.” I’ve been welcomed back with open arms, but it still feels weird. Walking into the NICU for the first time since the incident with Ben was surreal. It was also a crazy day with four babies admitted with varying levels of issues, so I didn’t have much time to lament and feel sorry for myself. I jumped right in and the days since have flown by. Everything is ‘normal.’
“Kai’s crawling,” she says and places a pot on the stove for tea. My heart pulls and I bow my head. I w
ish I could be there to see his milestones. I miss him.
“That’s awesome!” I respond, rolling the string of the tea bag between my fingers.
“He’s like a bullet, I swear. As soon as his knees hit the floor, he’s off. Max has his hands full.”
“I’m glad it’s working out so well.”
“It really is,” she says. “Oh, I forgot to mention that his occupational therapy is also ending soon. Nadia’s last day is next week.”
It’s truly amazing the strides that Kai has made. He’s come so far. My eyes tingle as tears threaten. I shake my head and sit up straight in the chair. “Please give her my best, if you see her.”
The hot water comes to a boil, and she removes the pot from the stove. After she pours us each a large cup full, she pushes a spoon across the table to me. “Sam, Garrett misses you.” She quickly realized after I left that something more was going on between the two of us. She could sense it, as much as Garrett and I tried to be discreet about the stolen kisses and longing looks. She believes that it was fate that brought us together. I don’t believe her.
Another stab in my chest and I inhale deeply. “Please, don’t,” I say as I swirl the tea bag in the hot water.
We sit silently until she speaks again. “You need to get past this. You’re acting as if Garrett killed your parents. We both know that isn’t true. That poor boy had nothing to do with the actions of his estranged father.”
I snap my head and glare at her. Doesn’t she get it? That sick fuck’s blood is running through Garrett’s veins. “We’re not having this conversation again.” I snap and push the tea away.
I feel bad the way I left her last night, but I just can’t go there right now. As much as I want to walk through his door like nothing happened, curl up next to him in his bed and wish all of this darkness to go away—I can’t.
The front door opens, and I hear commotion in the foyer. “Ba-ba!” Kai’s voice echoes through the halls. He’s here?
I rush to see him and he’s trying to wrangle from Aunt Peggy’s arms. “Kai, please give me a minute to get into the house.” She’s laughing as she drops her purse and keys on the table and then places him down on the floor.