“Kirsten,” she says softly, “I know I can’t make up for most of it, I can’t undo it or take it all back, but I can apologize. Will you please look at me?”
Her pleading breaks my heart, yet it angers me at the same time.
“No, Mother, Kings don’t cry, you taught me that.”
“I was wrong. God was I wrong. I’m sorry, Kirsten, but I understand if you can’t forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” I hiss. “For which part?”
I cringe at her remorseful expression and shake my head in disappointment.
“I don’t know… maybe just one thing at a time. I’m trying here, doesn’t that count for something?”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me! Did I count for something for the last twenty years while I watched you drink and cheat your life away? Did I count when I was pegged in the fucking head with countless objects? Or how about when Dad killed himself and you went to the funeral drunk? When the fuck did I count?”
I watch her wipe the tears that run down her tired, beaten face as she sits there trembling. I don’t know if it’s what I said or the withdrawals that are causing her to shake, but I’ve seen enough. I want out of here.
“Where are you going?” she whimpers. “At least take this with you.”
I turn and stop to eye over the folder she has in her unsteady hand.
“Why? What is it?”
“Everything. His company, his house, his bank accounts, all of it. I’m giving it to you.”
“What the fuck? Why?”
“Because it’s the only way I know how to start over… and because he should have left it to you. I’ve made too many mistakes, and the truth is, underneath it all I loved your father, but I was also addicted to hurting him. I don’t know why, but when he took his life, he took everything I loved with him… except you.”
I understand it all too well, the addiction of wanting to hurt the person you love, and hearing her say it tells me I’m not much different then she is.
“I don’t want this stuff,” I say, handing her the folder. “I never wanted any of it. All I’ve ever wanted is to leave this place. Just get on the back of Pax’s bike and go.”
“Then at least take the money, Kirsten. Bless the world with your spirit and your compassion. Buy a seaside cottage somewhere and start a family with Pax, or open a bar that isn’t hidden in a shed.”
“Really?” I ask, both shocked by her genuine tone and the fact she knows about the Club.
“Yes, Kirsten, really… I want you to do what makes you happy.”
I laugh at the irony of her words.
“That’s just it, Mom… I already am, I have Pax. But maybe I’ll visit from time to time, and we can look back and laugh about the time I sucked Gabe’s dick.”
Her face goes cold and her jaw drops as she fumbles, reaching for her glass of water and I cover my head.
Some things will never change.
Twelve
Two Years Later…
The smell of the ocean is strong as I sit on the porch taking in the morning breeze.
Our house is small but it’s ours, it’s a fixer-upper because we wanted to build something, we could be proud of, that plus it has a wicked view. A sight that never fails to take my breath away.
“Put your arms out, hold them up like this, so you can catch the ball,” Pax babbles, showing Liv what he means.
Liv lifts her stubby arms above her head and giggles, not yet quite understanding what she’s supposed to do.
“Not up in the air, silly,” Pax laughs. “Like this, see, so Daddy can throw the ball to you.”
“She’s only two, Pax, maybe give it another year… I don’t think Olivia wants to be a football player just yet,” I point out.
“And why not?” he asks, now spinning her in the air. “This little monkey can be anything she wants, isn’t that right?” he finishes, now pretending to bite her porky little belly as she squeals in his arms.
I love watching them together, and I don’t think I’ve put the camera down once in the last year since we adopted Liv. She’s beautiful and full of life, reminds me of her daddy. Especially with the way he’s already got her little paws hooked on learning the ins and outs of the motorcycle.
The look on her pudgy face is priceless when her big blue eyes become all fascinated with the sound the bike makes when Pax starts it up. It’s the first thing she wants to explore in the morning, not that I blame her. She’s a thrill seeker. Like her momma.
I’m positive he’s only distracting her with the ball as a way to make sure today goes smoothly, no tantrums when he shuts the bike off.
“Okay, you two, times up!” I remind. “Help daddy put the deflated football away and hop in the van. We still have a forty-minute drive ahead of us.”
“Yes, Mommy!” Pax says in his sweetest Liv impression. “Grab the ball, monkey, that’s it,” he praises, making airplane sounds pretending she’s flying over the ball.
I load the last of the luggage into the trunk and slide the side door open for Pax. He has a slight obsession about making sure she’s properly strapped into her car seat.
I climb in the passenger side, laughing to myself about the conversation we had last year just before the adoption was finalized.
I’d come home from a shift one night from the beachside bar Pax and I opened when we first moved out here. It’s not far from our counsellors office in the center of town.
The bar has become a hotspot, and it’s so happening we ended up having to hire extra hands to help us maintain it on the weekends.
I could tell Pax was antsy one night, not quite into it, so he’d left early. I remember him mumbling something about wanting to make sure we had everything in place for the then one-year-old girl we’d fallen in love with at the local orphanage.
Needless to say, I walked home along the beach when my shift was over to find Pax growling and beside himself, stressed, trying to attach the car seat to the back of his bike.
I’ll never forget his reaction when I told him he’d be driving a minivan, as I explained that we would not be carting our daughter around on the back of his Hog.
He walked straight into the house, took a pair of scissors, cut all of his hair off, and then threw on a baseball cap. At first, I was shocked until I saw the look of pride on his face. I knew right then that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to be the best father to her.
“There we go,” Pax says excitedly, “Liv’s all buckled in, and ready to ride!”
I smile at him and roll my eyes as he starts the car and I reach behind his seat to hand her a granola bar. She looks adorable with her headphones on and her eyes are lit up by whatever Pax has playing on the movie screen. I’m sure it’s some National Geographic special about snakes or lizards, his idea of teaching her to love what he does.
“What’s so funny, Vix?” he asks, noting the smirk on my face.
“You,” I say handing him his own granola bar. “I was thinking about the time I came home from the bar and you were hellbent on strapping her baby seat to your bike.”
“You promised you would stop bringing that up,” he says as we hit the highway. “And I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to your mother.”
“Why not?” I shrug. “Even if she actually does show up to meet us at the cemetery to visit Dad’s gravesite, it’s not like she was the perfect parent. She can’t possibly judge you, because you are an incredible father and husband,” I say, kissing his hand. “And if she does,” I whisper, “I can always make it up to you in the cemetery washroom.”
I watch his eyes glance in the rear-view, likely trying to make sure Liv’s headphones are still in place.
“As much as I’d thoroughly enjoy that, I’d still prefer you not mention the car seat incident, but feel free to brag about what an awesome husband I am, because we both know I look like a complete nerd driving a minivan.”
“You do not look like a nerd, Whiskey! You look hot and stop worryin
g, please, I’m already freaking out inside about taking Liv to the Hill. I mean, what if she ends up cursed and hates me by the time she’s twelve. I don’t think we should do this, maybe we should just turn around,” I say, feeling the panic set in.
Pax gives me the fuck that eyes and pulls onto the shoulder of the road.
“I know you’re worried, Vix, but you have me,” he says, gripping my hand. “It doesn’t matter what happens today. You are not your mother and you never will be, just like I am not Carl or Dana. We are good people, just like you told me once, and that little girl behind us will understand what being loved is supposed to feel like the same way you’ve always shown me.”
I look into his eyes that glisten with both hope and pain, still not used to the fact he can say their foul names out loud now.
Carl and Dana, the predators. It turns my stomach to hear him mention them, but I’ll never tell Whiskey that.
He’s come to terms with what they did to him, and I don’t think I will ever be able to repeat the things he’s told me, even though our shrink says we should talk about it.
Pax and I wanted to make sure we were free of our afflictions when we decided to adopt, so we agreed to go to counseling together. Doctor Dell is nice, but I think he takes my not-so-perfect childhood far too seriously. He asked me once how I deal with the reality of it, but I wanted to keep just one thing between Pax and I sacred, so I never told him about our hate-fuck therapy sessions. Instead I told him that the easiest way to tame my demons is simply to look at Pax; he makes everything bad disappear. That was the same day he asked me to marry him and I didn’t need to think twice.
“Earth to Vixen,” Pax murmurs into my ear. “You know I’ll pull over at the next motel we see to fix that look on your face if you don’t put a smile on it,” he growls.
I snap out of it and take a deep breath before I glance back at our sleeping angel and smile, instantly filling with more affection than I knew was possible.
“No, I’ll be okay, just keep driving… let’s hold off on the therapy, at least until we reach Hate-Fuck City. If it goes really bad today, at least we can get Jimmy and Jack to watch Liv.”
“That’s my girl, always planning ahead… just like a good mommy.”
I shake my head at his corny tone.
“Just get driving again, please, before I change my mind.”
He nods and refastens his seatbelt as I sit wondering what mother will look like. I haven’t spoken to her directly since we left the Hill, and I’ve only talked with Gabe a couple of times. Last I heard, he mentioned she’d gotten her five-month sobriety chip, and that he was planning to marry her. I guess he’s forgiven her for smashing the glass on his head and chucking the Bible at him the day Pax and I left.
It still cracks me up when I think about the look on Pax’s face as Gabe cried like a pussy, I think the words that left Whiskey’s mouth were: That about makes up for you letting Vixen suck your dick, shmuck.
“Heads up,” Pax states, turning into the Hill. “Do you want to do some sightseeing first?”
I shake my head no.
“I don’t think reminiscing about the stupid things we did before we became parents seems appropriate with our little monkey in the car.”
“Good call,” he says as we pass the Club.
It doesn’t even look the same, seems the rebuild of the wall I took out made the Marron brothers decide to rebuild the entire thing. It looks like an actual bar now, complete with a patio and a parking lot.
It’s not even half as fucking cool as the one we run on the beach.
We pull into the cemetery lot behind Dellwood Park, and I glance around, panicked for a second, questioning why we came back.
“It’s good, Vix,” Pax says shutting the car off. “I’ll be right beside you, and so will she.”
For a second, I think he’s talking about Liv, until I realize he’s staring out my window as I turn my head and see my mother standing there with a bouquet of orchids.
I smile politely but feel my motherly instincts take over and all I want to do is shield Liv from her as my heart drums mercilessly in my chest.
Pax rolls down my window and grabs my hand firmly as I squish my eyes closed tight, trying to calm my nerves.
“Hi, Helen… Gabe,” he greets warmly, “I think we need a minute to recover from the drive, would you guys mind if we met you at Robert’s plot? We won’t be long.”
“Oh, of course, dear,” Mother states. Her voice sounds almost as nervous as I feel, and the sound of Pax rolling the window back up tells me it’s safe to open my eyes.
I peek back at Liv, relieved she’s still out of it, dreaming of amphibians or pythons, not demons and devils.
“She’s going to be fine, I promise, just take a deep breath, like Dr. Dell showed you.”
“Easy for you to say,” I undertone. “Just don’t let Olivia out of your sight, in fact, don’t even put her down… if something gets chucked, I’ll protect my own head.”
Pax sighs and kisses my cheek.
“I hardly think she’s going to beat you with a bouquet of flowers, but fine, I’ll keep the little princess safe, same as I will you,” he pauses to kiss me. “Nobody messes with my girls.”
The slight growl in his tone hits me square in the stomach as I lean in and grip his hair, forcing his lips to mine. I want him so badly, and I know we’ve both been so focused on Liv, sex has been on the backburner.
Just kissing this man gets my body fired up lately, and I can’t help but run my hand over the thickness in his pants, wanting to hear him growl the words.
“Bad Mommy! Yuck!” Liv squeals in her playful tone. “Bad, Bad, Bad!”
That wasn’t even close, my little angel.
“Well, I think that’s our cue, you heard the lady,” Pax shrugs and laughs. “Now stop being a bad mommy like your daughter said and get your sweet ass out of the car.”
I stick my tongue out at both of them and stretch as Pax grabs Liv from her seat and sits her up on his shoulders.
I haven’t been back to my father’s gravesite since the day of the funeral, and as we approach, I’m thrown off by the memorial statue that now stands at the head of his plot. It’s a massive angel, at least fifteen feet high, made of grey stone that sits weeping over a rock.
I watch mother place her bouquet on the ground just beneath it, as she pulls out a flower and turns to me.
“He would have wanted you to weep for him,” she says, handing me the flower. “He loved you more than anything,” she pauses, staring at Pax and smiling as he yelps playfully, trying to remove his hair from Liv’s fists. Her eyes meet mine again as she runs her withered hands up and down my arms. “Wow! Look at you, you are so beautiful, Kirsten, so grown up,” she continues, “And look at her, she’s precious… oh my goodness, is she yours?”
I nod and smile.
“Not just mine… she’s ours, mine and Pax’s… her name is Olivia, Liv for short.”
“Olivia… what a beautiful name… can I hold her?”
Her eyes meet mine, pleading, as I take in her spirited tone that tells me she isn’t the mother I used to know.
She’s caring and kind, no hostility in her whatsoever.
I turn to Pax and nod, giving him permission.
I watch contentedly as Mother takes Liv into her arms, studying her precious little face and taking in the same magic we saw the minute we met her too.
“She’s perfect… absolutely perfect,” Mother coos. “Isn’t she Gabe?”
“She is,” he confirms, quickly looking in Pax’s direction.
I almost want to laugh but hold it in as Pax steps forward and extends his hand.
“I think we should try to be civil and let our differences go for my daughter’s sake.”
“Yes, of course,” Gabe agrees, “I’d like that very much.”
They get to talking as I stand in front of the weeping angel, running my fingers through Liv’s dark brown curls.
“I t
hought she looked like Pax the second I laid eyes on her; I fell in love with her even quicker than I did when I met Pax. She’s a King now, and I will teach this little girl to cry whenever the hell she wants too. Well at least when it comes to her emotional well-being anyway,” I add.
“I can see this little angel has an amazing mother already. She’s blessed. But how is it that she’s a King? I thought the two of you were married.”
“We are, but Pax took my name since he doesn’t know his.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following… how does the man not know his surname?”
“It’s a really long story, Mom, one that will take all afternoon and a giant box of tissue to explain. And in my family, Kings are allowed to cry, so I’m not sure you want to witness that.”
She grabs my hand, squeezes it, and brings it to her lips, her eyes lined with tears.
“I do, sweetheart, I really do. I’m ready to listen if you’d like to tell me.”
I shake my head and smile, knowing our story is one that I never want Olivia to hear, unless it’s the good parts. The good pieces of Pax and me that won’t cause her to drive a lawn tractor through our window or have her building a secret club behind our backs.
Or hate-fucking in the bathroom of a cemetery.
Scratch that, that part isn’t so bad is it?
I look over at Pax eyeballing me with that look that says he wants to eat me, and I realize I want him badly too.
“Hey, Mom?” I ask, watching as she fake nibbles on Liv’s tiny fingers, making her giggle uncontrollably.
“Yes, dear?” she says, lost in my precious cargo.
“Will you watch her for a few minutes?”
“Sure, take as long as you want, I’ll just be here telling her stories about her granddaddy, won’t I? Won’t I, you little darling?” she chants away in baby talk.
I give Pax the once over and bite my lip to the sweet smile plastered over his badboy face as he juts his head toward the funeral home and mouths the words, Come over here and get on this dick.
We are going straight into Hate-fuck territory, God yes!
Tainted Love Page 12