I lowered my head and continued, “After he was finished, he just passed out. I pushed him off, but I was so weak and traumatized, I couldn’t do anything but cry. When I was finally able, I fixed my clothes, snuck out of the party, and trudged back to my dorm.”
I lifted my eyes back to Aunt Sharon. “I wanted to die.” I blinked away tears. “I didn’t get out of bed for two days. My roommate threatened to call my mom on the third day, so I told her what had happened. She insisted I go to the police. But I couldn’t.” I sniffed. “She took me to the hospital, instead. A forensic nurse, named Bobbi took care of me. She was an angel. I was treated for STD’s, infection, and possible pregnancy. Bobbi told me I should see a gynecologist regarding the trauma to my womb and urged me to report the crime. But the thought horrified me. I didn’t want to think about the rape. Much less talk about it. The thought of going to the police scared me to death. And I’d never been to a gynecologist, so that frightened me too.”
Aunt Sharon’s face was wrenched with grief as tears trickled down her cheeks. She licked her lips and finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Thank you for sharing your story with me, sweetheart. That took a lot of courage. I know it was terribly difficult to relive, and I’m extremely proud of you for being so brave.” She smiled at me through tears. “I love you, and I care about you so, so much. You are incredibly important to me, and what happens to you is incredibly important to me. You believe that, don’t you?”
I swallowed hard and nodded my head.
“I am so very sorry this happened. I want you to know it is in no way your fault. I don’t know if you think it is, but don’t, because it’s not. You did not bring it on yourself, and you are not to blame. I just wish you would’ve come to me sooner. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through all these years. It breaks my heart to pieces to even think about you carrying this burden all alone.”
I took a deep breath and let it out, already feeling like the weight had been lightened. My secret seemed less dark and my shame, not so overwhelming.
“Aunt Sharon, please don’t tell Momma.”
She gently patted my arm. “You have my word. Cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul.”
“It would absolutely crush her. And Daddy too.” I gnawed my bottom lip and shook my head. “If they had known, they surely would have made me come home.”
“Oh, honey, is that why you didn’t tell them?” Aunt Sharon pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed under her eyes. Then she pulled out another one and handed it to me.
“Partly. I just wanted it to go away. The fewer people who knew about it, the better chance I had at putting it behind me.”
“Baby, that’s not how it works. That’s not how you heal from this.”
“Maybe I just wanted to keep from hurting anyone else.”
“Well, because I know you, I can understand you feeling that way. But you’re the victim. You’re the one it happened to. Not your parents. Not your family. Not your friends. You. You’re the one who needs to heal. You know I’m here for you, and you know you can trust me.”
I wiped under my eyes with the tissue and nodded again.
“I want to help you any way I can. If you want to join a support group, I’ll join too. If you want to go talk to a professional, I will go with you. If you want to just have coffee every morning, pick the place and I’ll buy.” Her mild smile and kind eyes were filled with compassion. “You are my angel, and I will do anything and everything I can to help you heal.”
“Thank you, Aunt Sharon. That really means a lot.”
“Did you go to the police?”
I shook my head.
“Okay. Well, did you see a gynecologist?”
“About two months later.”
“I’m sure that was difficult for you. What did the doctor say?”
I drew in a breath. “He told me everything appeared fine, and he’d let me know about the results of my pap smear.”
“That was it?” Her voice was still gentle, but it was now laced with frustration.
“He said my uterus was sharply tilted.” I paused to swallow and shook my head. “And it would be difficult, if not impossible, for me to ever conceive without seeing a fertility specialist.”
“Oh, Rebecca, I know how that breaks your heart.” She scooted her chair around the table and pulled me to her. Her warm embrace was comforting.
I felt safe and loved. A tinge of hope made me think I would eventually be all right.
After a few moments, she lifted her head and looked me in the eyes. “Did you tell Jackson?”
“I told him everything.” I sighed with remorse. “Except the part about getting pregnant.”
Her eyebrows gathered in concern. “That isn’t something you should keep from him if you think you two may get involved. You know that.”
I nodded. “I plan on telling him. It’s just hard to cover everything in a day or two.”
“I can imagine.” She touched my chin and offered a gentle smile. “Everything will work out, baby. He’s a good man.”
“He really is.” I smiled. “And I think he’s a great dad.”
“He’s a terrific dad. Amazing, considering the parents he had.” She shook her head.
“Had?” My brow lowered. “Did something happen to his parents?”
Aunt Sharon looked at me with a blank face. Her shoulders dropped as she sighed. “I thought you knew. I thought your momma already told you.”
“Told me what? Momma hasn’t told me anything. If you wanna know the truth, it seems like she’s determined to keep me away from Jackson. What’s the secret about his parents?”
“Lord, honey. This puts me in a terrible predicament. Your momma obviously wants to shield you from all of it, so if I tell you, she’d call it stepping over my boundaries.”
“I don’t care what she’d call it. I’m a grown woman, Aunt Sharon. And I love Jackson. I believe I have a right to know.”
She pursed her lips. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Begin anywhere. I’m about to have a manic episode here.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Frank Strickland went to prison for murdering Mr. Jack Owens. He hit him upside the head with a pipe wrench, then claimed that sweet old man had a heart attack and fell against the corner of his worktable.”
My mouth flew open, and I felt like somebody had punched me in the chest. My mind was immediately filled with questions and fogged with confusion, but all I could manage to say was, “What?”
“Frank used his denim shirt to wipe up the blood, hung the wrench back on the wall, and hid his shirt under some dirty rags in an old burn barrel. Thanks to his sloppy work, the detectives got plenty of DNA and fingerprints. The judge sentenced Frank to life, but he died in a prison fire about a year ago.”
“Oh my God.” I scrunched my face in disbelief. “When did all this happen?”
“While Jackson was in rehab in Orlando. Poor guy didn’t know a thing about it.”
“What?” I stared at her with pleading eyes. “That’s when I first got to New York. And Momma didn’t even tell me!” I clenched my teeth.
“Honey, you were already in a frail state. Besides, what good would it have done for you to know?”
“But it’s been ten years, Aunt Sharon, and she still hasn’t mentioned it!”
“I guess she figured you were better off not knowing. At the time, everybody was in a tizzy. Mrs. Ruby was about to lose her mind, and Regina just made things worse. She stayed high as a kite and blamed everything on Jackson. After Frank was sent to prison, she was arrested for stealing prescription drugs and spiraled downward faster than you could say wickitty-whack. Couldn’t keep a job, pretty much lost everything––her house, her car, most of her teeth, and apparently her family––all over drugs. She lives with this scum bum named Wayne, who’s a janitor for the city. Needless to say, after she treated Mrs. Ruby and Jackson like she did, they don’t have anything to d
o with her anymore. Can’t say I blame them, either.”
I was speechless. I sat there, trying to comprehend everything she’d just told me. Jackson’s dad, a murderer? And now dead? And his mom, a drug addict? And poor Mrs. Ruby. Why hadn’t anyone told me any of this? Why didn’t Jackson mention it last night? He only said there was no contact between Regina and Savannah. I certainly wasn’t expecting news like this. My heart was broken for Jackson and Mrs. Ruby. I wanted to cry and scream at the same time. And I wanted to shake Regina Strickland’s brains out.
I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes. “That’s a lot to take in.”
“You could say that. I surely didn’t want to upset you, but the facts are the facts. I don’t understand why your momma still wants to keep it from you.” She sighed. “I’m sure she has her reasons, but I can’t imagine what they are. Like you said, you’re a grown woman. You shouldn’t be sheltered from reality. Besides, it’s old news, really. The whole town knows.”
I thought about that a minute. “So, do you think that’s why Jackson and Mrs. Ruby never brought it up?”
“I think that’s exactly why they didn’t bring it up. They probably thought you already knew.”
I hadn’t even considered that. Aunt Sharon was right. They probably thought I’d heard about everything years prior when it all happened.
“They’ve dealt with it and moved on. And since they’re the two people most affected by the situation, if they’ve chosen to put it behind them, then so should everyone else.”
I listened closely and took what she was saying to heart. I knew Aunt Sharon wasn’t just talking about Jackson and Mrs. Ruby. She was also speaking to me, encouraging me.
“Sometimes it’s better to let things go, Rebecca. Let people go. Don’t ask for explanations, don’t chase answers, and don’t fight for closure. Flick that mosquito off your arm and keep going. Don’t let it suck out another drop of your blood. I know it’s hard, honey. God knows, it’s easier said than done. But sometimes the best thing you can do is forgive someone, let it go, and just move on. Life’s too short and too precious to let things that are beyond your control steal your joy.”
She was making a whole lotta sense. Why had I wasted all this time? Was it fear? Or shame? Or was it self-pity? “You’re absolutely right, Aunt Sharon. Life’s too short to let the past ruin it. Everybody gets dealt a crappy hand at some point. That doesn’t mean you gotta fold.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” She put her arm around me and kissed me on top of the head.
I squeezed her tight. “No one’s promised tomorrow, and we’re not getting any younger.”
“You can say that again,” she groaned. “So, whatta ya think? Too early to start drinking?”
I laughed out loud. “We just had coffee!”
“You don’t realize how long we’ve been here. Besides, I’m not talking about hitting the hard stuff.” She sat back and crossed her arms in front of her. “Mine will have to be a virgin, anyway. I can’t get sauced before going to work.”
“Well, you already know I’m a lightweight.”
“So how about a Bushwacker then? Dolly and Daisy make the best in the panhandle.”
“A Bushwacker?”
“Ever had one? They’re like creamy, chocolatey, scrumptiousy milkshakes made with Kahlua, Baileys Irish Cream, and all sorts of tantalizing ingredients. Dee. Lish. Us!”
My mouth fell open. All I could think about was that drink and Mrs. Darlene, and suddenly I realized why Dolly and Daisy looked so familiar. That’s it! I looked at Aunt Sharon with such surprise, it felt like my eyebrows nearly flew off my face.
Aunt Sharon nudged my arm, jolting me from my stupor. I guess I was zoned-out for a good minute because I hadn’t heard a word she said after Bushwacker. My eyes darted all around the coffee shop. The two sisters had disappeared somewhere in the back, but there were photos everywhere. I rose from my seat and glanced at the bookshelf, searching for the picture.
“Hold on a second,” I told Aunt Sharon, then headed to the back of the shop to retrieve the five-by-seven bedazzled picture frame. “Ha!” I laughed to myself in amusement. Sitting right next to the picture was a rock about the size of a flattened baseball. It was painted red and purple, and written across the top in black and white and gold cursive were the words Live, Love, Laugh. I thought, Why didn’t I see this before? I grabbed both the rock and the picture, then rushed back to our table. “Look at this.” I held them for her to see.
Aunt Sharon was clearly confused regarding my enthusiasm. “It’s a photo of the Red Hat Ladies. And their motto painted on a rock.”
“That’s right.” I placed the rock on the table. “And see this? I have this exact picture in my apartment in New York.” I pointed at the lady in the middle of the photograph. “And this is Mrs. Darlene.” I tapped my finger on the glass repeatedly. “We’re girlfriends!”
She chuckled. “She’s Dolly and Daisy’s older sister.”
“Sister?”
She arched a questioning eyebrow. “Can’t you see the resemblance?”
I flipped the picture around and studied the three women standing in the middle of the group of Red Hat Ladies. Oh my goodness. Of course they’re sisters. Other than the major difference in fashion taste, they could almost pass for triplets. Same petite figure, same hair, same smile. I looked at Aunt Sharon, then back at the picture, and grinned. “What a small world,” I muttered.
“How did you meet Darlene?”
Still baffled, I put the picture on the table and took a seat. “She’s my roommate’s… Well, she used to be my roommate’s grandmother. I mean, she’s my used-to-be roommate’s grandmother. I mean, my roommate used to be my grandmother. Oh, shoot. Hold on a minute. Lemme think.”
Aunt Sharon giggled. “Honey, you need a Bushwacker worse than I do.” She cupped her mouth and yelled, “Hey, girls! Woo-hoo! Where y’all at?”
The two sisters waddled out from the back like a herd of turtles, obviously arguing about something. Daisy was shaking her fist at Dolly, and Dolly was fanning it away as if she was shooing a fly. Here they came. Shuffle, jingle. Shuffle, jingle.
“You need something, dear?” Dolly smiled as she approached. “It’s hard to hear anything with this mosquito buzzing around by my ear.”
I looked at Aunt Sharon, and we both busted out laughing.
“Who you calling a mosquito? I know it ain’t me, you old goat!”
“Daisy, I told you it was an accident! Now settle down.” Dolly sighed. “I’m sorry, y’all need something?”
Aunt Sharon had to bite her lip to suppress her laughter. “Did somebody have an accident?”
“Humph! That’s what she called it,” Daisy grumbled. “Accident, my fanny!”
Aunt Sharon cleared her throat. “What on earth happened?”
“She’s making a big deal out of it. A mountain out of a mole hill.” Dolly shook her head. “We were back there stocking supplies and a box fell off the shelf and hit her.”
“Oh, dear! I’m sure that hurt.”
“Hardly, Sharon.” Dolly rolled her eyes. “It was a little box of powdered sugar.”
“Oh!” Aunt Sharon bit her lip again to keep from grinning. “I see.”
“And besides, it hit her on her hard head,” Dolly said.
Daisy shook her fist in the air. “I’m gonna hit you on your hard head!”
“Girls, girls. Now that’s no way to be. I’m sure Dolly didn’t cause the sugar to fall.”
“Well, she most certainly did, Sharon! She bent over and hit the shelf with her big fat butt and made it wobble,” Daisy grumbled.
Dolly sighed. “For heaven’s sake, Daisy. It was an accident. Besides, it was just a little box of sugar. How could it have hurt you?”
Daisy huffed. “Because it fell from twenty feet! And you did it on purpose!”
“It didn’t fall no twenty feet. Our ceilings aren’t even that high. And I did not do it on purpose.”
A
unt Sharon held her arms out and lowered them like she did before. “Now, let’s just calm down. I called you out here because I wanted to tell you something.” She reached over and picked up the picture. “Rebecca has this photograph in her apartment.”
Dolly and Daisy stepped closer and gave the picture a good look.
“Lemme tell you why. Because she and Darlene are close friends!” Aunt Sharon grinned. “BFF’s!”
Daisy made a face, “B-F-what’s?”
“No kidding?” Dolly grinned at me. “You know our sister?”
“Yes!” Aunt Sharon answered for me. “Darlene’s granddaughter and Rebecca were roommates for a couple of years while they were in college.”
“She’s older than us, you know,” Daisy growled.
Dolly gave her the stink eye. “Age is just a number.” Then she looked at me and said, “It’s true she’s the oldest, but she’s probably a lot more active than both of us put together. She’s got two great-granddaughters now.”
“That means she’s twice as busy as she was before,” Daisy added.
Dolly rolled her eyes at Daisy, then looked at me. “Do you ever see her?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I smiled. “Regularly, actually. Mrs. Darlene and I have dinner together at least once a week.”
“Well, then you must be the Rebecca she talks about all the time!” Dolly smiled.
I was touched. “She talks about me?”
“All the time, dear.” Dolly grinned. “I just figured you’d be much older. I never expected you were the same Rebecca our Jasmine lived with when she was modeling. It’s a small world, isn’t it? I don’t know why I didn’t put two and two together.”
“Cause you’re old, that’s why!” Daisy rumbled.
Dolly rolled her eyes at her sister. “Oh, be quiet, fuss-box, before I hit you with another box of sugar. You’re older than me!
Dolly took the picture from Aunt Sharon and gazed at the group of ladies. A wide grin spread across her face, and she chuckled slightly. “This was taken about eighteen years ago. It was our friend’s fiftieth birthday party.” She tilted the frame to show Daisy.
Worth the Risk Page 22