The Truth Lucy Spoke (The Truth Turned Upside Down Book 2)

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The Truth Lucy Spoke (The Truth Turned Upside Down Book 2) Page 3

by Penelope J Bristol


  What chance did a baby have in their family? How long would Alex stick around, waiting for a girl who did not want to get married regardless of being pregnant with his baby? It would be entirely reasonable to expect him to pursue other opportunities, to date women who would commit to him, if Anne continued to keep him at bay.

  As jagged foreboding thoughts about Anne’s future swirled around in his mind, a pink swath of fabric caught his eye in the rearview mirror, Lucy’s fuzzy, pink neck-pillow. If ever there were two different types of girls, he had one of each.

  “Lucy’s a lot more like me,” John thought, smiling and remembering his mother’s loving affirmations, “In all the good ways.”

  4

  Careless Conversation

  Lucy and Finn sat comfortably, on the back porch, throwing popcorn at each from each end of a mint-green, metal glider. It had been a long week at school, and they were both excited for a lazy, Netflix binge-watching Friday night. Dianna and John were still at work, and they had Alexa on full tilt, with the back sliding-glass doors wide open.

  “You know they say sophomore year is the easiest year in high school, right?” Lucy yelled over a song blaring out of the gaping hole leading into her kitchen.

  “I guess so, I don’t really care anymore,” Finn replied, flatly, picking popcorn out of his hair. His round baby face had become longer and dotted with a scruffy, patchy beard. Scowling and sitting cross-legged in joggers and a hoodie, he barely passed for her best friend anymore.

  “Stop saying that!” Lucy bellowed over the music. “Your parent’s life is not your life, Finn!”

  Charlotte had become a different person over the last few years, and in essence, Finn had lost both his parents over his father’s infidelity. Now that Lucy and Finn could drive, he spent a lot less time at home, which seemed to cheer Finn up. She wished she could find the right things to say to him about his parents. Lucy wanted Mark and Charlotte to get a divorce instead of continuing to live under the same roof, sleeping in different bedrooms, dragging it all out -and right in front of Finn.

  Finn often commented his house felt like a graveyard and that everything inside of it, was dead. Lucy wondered how Charlotte could let herself change so drastically other than it was apparent; her heart had broken. What was harder to understand was why she stayed with Mark? She wondered if the decision was more about what Finn wanted her to do than what Charlotte needed.

  Lucy couldn’t begin to relate to Charlotte because she had never even had a boyfriend. At sixteen, this was a complete embarrassment. She had always got along better with boys than girls, case in point, Finn, her best friend. But, Finn was like a brother, so he did not count. Everyone at school thought they were dating, but they would never gamble on their friendship like that.

  Finn crushed on girls at school, and about twice as many liked him back, but he never dropped Lucy to sit with any of them at lunch or hang with anyone but her, at pep rallies. Lately, he missed a lot of school, and Lucy was beginning to worry about him being depressed. She had talked to the guidance counselor about it and was waiting for him to blow up any day now, after being called in to discuss her concerns. He would know she was the anonymous someone who had reported him.

  There was a lot of buzz at school these days about suicidal ideation, and although she had never heard Finn mention taking his life or hurting himself, she was ready to have that conversation if those words or anything close to them ever came out.

  But tonight, she playfully pushed the soles of her tennis shoes against his and rapidly fired popcorn in his direction, until a glimmer of a smile spread across his scratchy, hooded face, and they laughed like they were twelve again, and nothing could hurt them.

  Dianna slammed the heavy car door, dropping her leather purse as she tried to balance two pizzas, a salad, and her diet coke. As she stacked the pizza on top of the car, she noticed Mark’s truck was gone while Charlotte’s car sat obediently in the carport. She scanned the road leading into their cul-de-sac, looking for Anne’s silver sedan.

  “She should be here by now,” Dianna thought to herself and pulled out her phone to text her oldest daughter.

  The text sat as delivered for several seconds and then registered as read. Dianna waited, but Anne did not respond. She put away her phone, grabbed dinner, and walked into the house, deflated. The music was so loud she could barely hear herself speak as she stood in front of Lucy and Finn, trying to communicate she had brought home dinner. Both kids strained to keep a straight face, but Dianna knew, inwardly, they were laughing at her. She turned, walked back into the kitchen and yanked the cord to the Alexa speaker from the wall so quickly, a blue spark flamed from the socket.

  “Dinner is ready,” Dianna called out, smiling, having had the last laugh. She opened the cabinet closest to the sink and made short work of a tall glass of red wine.

  Lucy and Finn made their way into the kitchen, grabbing paper plates and silverware from the usual spots. They piled their plates high with hot pizza, grabbing canned sodas from the fridge before ducking back down the narrow hallway and into Lucy’s room. The door slammed abruptly and locked. Moments later, the door suddenly opened, and two voices cried out, in an exaggerated off-key unison, “Thanks for the pizza Mom/Miss Dianna.” Then, the door slammed for the second time, lock clicking in place.

  Dianna rolled her eyes and then closed them. High school had done nothing to mature those two goofballs. It was a good thing they had found each other, she thought. As she sipped her wine, she heard the unmistakable sound of Mark’s truck pulling into his gravel driveway. Dianna thought of Charlotte, alone in the house, waiting day after day for Mark to come home, and it made her shudder. Lucy had told her parents that Finn thought his dad was having an affair, and by the looks of Charlotte these days, things were definitely, off-kilter over there. She shook the uncomfortable thought loose and glanced over at her phone, lying on the counter. There was a text from Anne.

  “Caught up at work, be there soon. No Alex tonight, just me.”

  Dianna read the text and exhaled. She sat at the kitchen table and waited, hoping that tonight would be just another Friday night and that Anne would be here soon.

  Anne walked in the door, thirty minutes later, just as Dianna started her third glass of wine.

  “Hey, Mom, sorry I’m late. I went home to shower after work, where is everyone?” Anne blurted, all in one breath, her round belly heaving up and down.

  Dianna looked up slowly from where she sat at the kitchen table, the wine working its way through her body, calming her nerves and lengthening her reaction time.

  “Lucy and Finn are doing whatever it is they do in her room, and your dad is working late, trying to inventory a shipment of meds that came in today, where is Alex?” Dianna asked, pointedly, raising her eyebrows.

  “I don’t know where Alex is tonight, Mom. We don’t live together- you know this,” Anne snarked back, before taking a seat across from her at the table.

  “I know you don’t, but you are still dating him, correct?” Dianna asked firmly.

  “I guess, yes, we are still dating,” Anne replied.

  “Anne, you are only dating Alex, correct?” Dianna asked.

  Anne said nothing, stood up and defiantly grabbed a fork. She opened both boxes of pizza and took a piece from each box, slapping them haphazardly onto her plate. Dianna sat very still in her chair as Anne moved, dramatically, around the kitchen like a bull in a china shop. When she finally sat down, neither woman spoke until Anne finished eating.

  “I’m not a little girl any more Mom, I don’t need you to rescue me from my life or the people I love. He’s not a bad person -you don’t know him,” Anne said quietly.

  “I know he’s married Anne and more than twice your age!” Dianna hissed back at her daughter. “I know he had no business looking at you, much less starting something with you when you were barely older than Lucy is now. Mark is a predator, and I forbid you to have anything more to do with him. We’ve
had these conversations before, and I thought you had moved on. My God, you are pregnant with Alex’s baby Anne, what the hell are you thinking?”

  Anne stared at her mother with empty eyes, as Dianna’s panicked demands fell to the floor, sliding easily down Anne’s polished, impermeable exterior.

  “You are jealous of how happy he makes me, Mom, that’s really what this is all about,” Anne said evenly. “Dad makes you miserable, and Mark makes me incredibly happy, and you hate that.”

  Dianna’s eyes flashed as her shaking hand slammed down, hard against the kitchen table, reminding Anne of an undeniable fact, neither of her parents would ever accept her relationship with Mark.

  “You are pregnant with another man’s child, young lady, and I suggest you end this dysfunctional relationship and focus on a future with Alex before it’s too late,” Dianna reasoned, emphatically, placing her hand on top of Anne’s swollen belly. Tears were beginning to stream down her mother’s cheeks now, but Anne did not care.

  Lucy stood motionless in the hall, frozen. Her intentions to get more pizza and soda, forgotten, and now, she could not move. Her mind was thick with black fog and thoughts that made her feel hot inside. All these years, it had been her sister; Anne had been the “her” that had made Charlotte cry, and Finn grow to hate his life.

  Anne had probably gone on dates, overnight dates, with Finn’s dad while all the while, Lucy had been stupidly living her little kid life, thinking that what she saw that day in the backyard between her sister and a grown man had been fleeting, inappropriate flirting. Lucy had done nothing. She had told no one, and now look what had happened. This was her fault- Anne had needed help all those years ago, and she could have helped. She could have told her parents, and they would have helped Anne. The weight of these thoughts pushed so hard on Lucy that all the air rushed out of her lungs. Her hands began to shake violently, and her throat tightened painfully, the urge to get out of the house hit like an overwhelming tidal wave.

  Lucy glanced back at her open bedroom door, but she could not explain any of this to Finn now, or even look at him. Instead, she quietly turned and walked the opposite way through her living room and quickly out the front door. Once out of the house, she walked briskly to the mailbox and then immediately began to run. The cold night air hit her face, already burning hot with tears. As soon as Lucy thought she was far enough away for no one to hear her, jagged sobs sprang from her chest. She hugged herself as she ran and cried out loud that she was sorry, a million times sorry until all the tears were gone, and she slowed, eventually, to a walk. She walked like this until her feet hurt, and then, reluctantly, she turned around. Lucy arrived back home on tired legs to find her dad out looking for her, a dim flashlight in his hand. Anne’s car was gone, and Finn had been sent home for the night.

  “Where in the world did you go, Lucy?” John asked, slightly out of breath, hugging his daughter awkwardly, grateful to see her weary face looking up at him.

  Lucy shrugged and returned the hug, “Is everything ok with Anne and Mom?” she said, looking up at her dad, concerned.

  “As much as it will ever be,” John said, “Let’s get you inside, your mom ordered pizza.”

  5

  Lucy’s Confession

  Dianna sat at the kitchen table, swirling cold coffee around her mug with a dirty spoon. No one was awake yet, and she wondered how much time she had left to herself.

  Anne was not returning any of her texts, and she feared it would be months before they spoke again. This was her pattern, met with an attempt to discuss feelings honestly, she would completely cut off communication for unspecified lengths of time. There was no rhyme or reason to when Anne would establish contact again, but when she did, it would be as if nothing had happened. There would be no opportunity to discuss the cut-off, unresolved issues, or ensure that a similar incident would not reoccur. She knew Anne would not stop seeing Mark, he was too off-limits, which made him exciting, and Anne thrived on excitement.

  What Dianna could not figure out was how Anne planned to juggle the baby, Alex, and Mark. She seemed genuinely happy when she talked about becoming a mom. Honestly, there had never been another guy that Anne brought around the family the way she had with Alex. Ending the relationship with Mark, seemed the easy answer to every problem as Dianna saw it. Still, nothing was ever easy with Anne; she would proceed as she saw fit, unencumbered by anyone’s desires. All she could do was wait and see how Anne played her cards and hope for the best.

  Dianna had thrown in her cards too soon. She ended up saddled to a man who could provide for her, yet stripped away all her self-dignity. Maybe Anne’s perspective wasn’t entirely wrong. Dianna was sure of one thing; she was no expert on men. If Charlotte and Mark divorced, there might be a future for her daughter with that man. Dianna would hate it, but what choice did she have?

  “Hey, Mom,” Lucy said quietly. “You’re up early for a Saturday morning.”

  Dianna was startled to see Lucy standing in the kitchen’s threshold and nervously cleared her throat before smoothing her hair back, away from her unmade face. Her youngest daughter was wearing an oversized sweatshirt, black leggings, and knee-high, rainbow, fuzzy socks pulled up over her calves. Dianna wondered if this was in style, or just Lucy being incredibly unfashionable, she didn’t bother asking and went back to stirring her coffee.

  “I heard you talking to Anne last night,” Lucy said. “She got mad and left, didn’t she?”

  Dianna stopped breathing momentarily and locked eyes with her youngest daughter. She instantly replayed the entire night in her mind. She saw Lucy and Finn tucked safely away in Lucy’s room. She remembered Anne sitting with her at the table, voices low, their discussion brief. She thought back to John, and how he had arrived home much later in the evening after Anne stormed out. Then it hit her, like the force of a massive freight train.

  She remembered Finn, wandering into the kitchen and asking where Lucy had gone. Dianna was so preoccupied with texting Anne to come back to the house; she had just sent Finn home, not concerning herself with where Lucy was or why she had suddenly left the house. Could Lucy have overheard her conversation with Anne last night? It made sense that she would be upset. Suddenly, Dianna began to shake.

  Lucy watched a red hue rise slowly on her mother’s face, and she was not surprised. Last night, as she lay in bed blaming herself for not telling her parents what she saw in their backyard, it slowly dawned on her that, based on the conversation she heard, her mother had known about the relationship, yet had done nothing to stop it. Lucy thought about this for hours last night and could make no sense of it. The thinking took her back further and further to the lawn mowing job, and how her mother had not wanted Anne mowing Finn’s lawn in her bikini. She had made a comment about someone looking at Anne’s body, and Lucy couldn’t help but feel, there had been an awareness that something was off all those years ago, even if Lucy had been too young to understand what it was, entirely. The sheer incompetence on her mother’s part of not acting on that awareness had brewed inside of Lucy all night, festering like a time bomb. It would blow sooner or later, regardless of her attempt to funnel it appropriately.

  “ I saw them, Mom, when I was around twelve,” Lucy said, her eyes, unapologetically, boring into Dianna. “I was going to bring her some water because she was out there, cutting their grass, and it was so hot. He was standing beside her. His hand was on her lower back, on purpose, and they were laughing, and then his hand slid into her bikini bottom, on purpose.”

  Tears began to run down Lucy’s cheeks, and she talked louder, telling her mom that she saw them, and she did nothing other than set down the water, and run to hide in her bedroom. She asked Dianna over and over why she had not stopped it between them, how she could have let this happen to Finn and Charlotte, much less Anne. Lucy rambled on about how damaging it must have been for her sister, to have been manipulated by Mark, an adult who knew what he was doing, when she was such a young girl. She believ
ed Anne must have felt alone, having to lie to everyone she loved so he wouldn’t get in trouble. She brought up Alex and the baby and how their family had a responsibility to do the right thing, for Anne, for everyone involved.

  Dianna had long since stopped shaking and had eerily regained full composure. She set down the dirty spoon and looked Lucy, directly in the eye, delivering her next lines, emotionless, like a viper contemplating its next move.

  “Whatever it is you think you heard last night or saw all those years ago, Lucy, you are mistaken,” Dianna spoke calmly. “Please do not bring up this nonsense with me ever again, or God help you, try to convince Finn or Charlotte that your sister is a whore. You will regret trying to get involved in this if you do, I promise you that.”

  Dianna stood up from the kitchen table and abruptly pushed her chair in, chucked the coffee mug in the sink, and walked out of the kitchen, without another word.

  Lucy stood there, stunned silent. In all the years of being rejected when the stakes were high, this knocked something loose in her. The lengths her mom would go to self-preserve were utterly, unfathomable. In times of crisis, being offered up in her mother’s place as a sacrifice had been the norm of Lucy’s entire childhood. She waited for the sharp burning in her left hand to begin and the sick feeling of isolation to envelop her, but what came instead was rage- a white-hot rage that she had not felt before.

  The rage moved, it started in her feet, shooting up through her legs and then, out the top of her, like a fast-moving bullet. She grabbed a chair and flipped it over, kicking it out of her way as she crossed the kitchen to tear open the back, sliding-glass doors. She stomped out onto the porch and looked down across their back yard and then into Finn’s back yard. No one needed their yard cut today. That was a job for a different time, where courses were alterable, and her sister’s future salvaged. And that was when it happened. Lucy completely lost her mind.

 

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