Page 57

FIFTY-SEVEN

BECCA

I think I’ll keep Doc. Virtually, of course. I’m not ready to meet face-to-face, not sure if I ever will be, but over the phone, talking is easier than expected. It’s nice to vent my fears and frustrations. To word vomit everything and have no fear of retribution. No fear of being judged.

Doc actually listened. He told me my emotions were valid.

And then he gave me homework.

Write down three things I wish I could be, then say it on repeat until I believe them.

So here I am on a Wednesday afternoon, in the parking lot of church, repeating my newly formed affirmations.

I want to catch my folks before Wednesday evening service, and this is my best chance to corner them in a place where I know they can’t leave. I have some things to say, and it’s high time they listen.

I am strong. I am bold. I own my power.

With a deep breath, I stretch my legs out of my car and slam the door behind me, hoping the slight tremor in my hands doesn’t show anywhere else on my body as I walk inside.

The office door is cracked, so I push it open the rest of the way and go in. My heart beats so fast I feel it slamming against the bones in my chest. Momma is hunched over the desk, Papa next to her, both of their attention on papers strewn across the top.

“Hi, y’all.”

Papa’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as they land on me. “Rebecca, where’ve you been, young lady?”

My stomach jolts. How dare he act like they care? “It’s not like I’ve been hidin’, Papa. I just haven’t been here. ”

His arms cross, his green stare slicing through me. “And why exactly is that?”

My eyes bounce to Momma. She’s peering at me from where she’s still bent at the edge of the desk.

“Momma didn’t tell you?”

His eyes flicker toward her, his posture stiffening. “Tell me what?”

At this, Momma stands straight, her pearls bouncing slightly as they rest around her neck, the perfect accent to the facade she projects to the world. I wonder if I rip them off, would it strip her bare and show the world her ugliness?

She clears her throat. “We had a heart-to-heart the other night, and she didn’t take what I had to say very well. You wouldn’t be interested, darlin’. It’s woman stuff.”

There’s a glint in her eyes as she levels her gaze at me. I’m not sure if it’s a warning or a threat, but I don’t care either way. I’m done subjecting myself to what she wants at the expense of what I need.

Doc says people won’t give you power. You have to take it.

“No, Papa. It’s not woman stuff. She told me how y’all lied for years.”

Papa’s brow quirks.

“How she loved you but you never loved her. How you got her pregnant and had a shotgun weddin’, then moved here so you could pretend to be somethin’ you weren’t.”

“Rebecca Jean, that’s enough, ” Momma hisses.

But I ignore her, my ire a tsunami rising up to capsize everything in its path. Drowning the lies with truth .

“Is it, Momma?” I cock my head, locking eyes with Papa. “She told me how you’ve been lyin’ to everyone in town for years and lyin’ to me my entire life.”

Papa’s eyes widen slightly as he sits down in the chair, his mouth parted, his gaze breaking away and landing on everything but me.

Momma stands stoic, her spine stiffening more with every passing second that no one speaks.

“Well,” I finally snap. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? Either of you?”

Papa levels a glare at Momma. “Well, Rebecca, I’m not sure where you’d like me to start.”

“Pick one,” I bite back.

“All right.” He nods. “It’s true your momma and I moved here after our weddin’…when we were pregnant with you.”

I scoff. “And you didn’t think you could be honest about that?” I raise my arms out to my sides. “Why? Were you so ashamed of me before I was even born that y’all had to hide it?” A pang hits my chest, making the last word come out choked.

“We weren’t ashamed of you, girl. We were tryin’ to make our own way. We planned to get married and move here long before we found out about you. You just sped up the process.”

“What?” I shake my head, his words jumbling up the clear image I’ve formed of what happened. “But Momma said?—”

“I don’t know what you think you heard from me, Rebecca Jean,” Momma cuts in. “But clearly you’re misrememberin’ if you think I didn’t tell you that same thing.”

My jaw drops, nausea sloshing low in my stomach as I take in what she just said. “God Almighty, have you always been this manipulative?”

“Young lady, watch your mouth,” Papa snaps.

I spin back toward him. “Are you tellin’ me it’s not true?”

He leans back in his chair, straightening his tie. “Depends on which part you’re askin’ about.”

Frustration rips at my chest, my teeth grinding so hard my jaw aches. “Quit speakin’ in riddles! For once, just tell me the truth. Treat me like an equal. I deserve to know.” Tears break the dam and overflow, trickling down my face, the salty taste lingering on my dry lips as I wait for an answer I’m not even sure I’ll get.

“We moved here, yes.” Papa rests his elbows on the desk. “We were pregnant with you, yes. We didn’t tell anyone the truth, yes. But I loved—” His voice cracks and he glances at Momma. Her jaw clenches, fingers clutching her pearls like they’re the only thing tethering her to the ground. “I loved your momma. She’s the one who didn’t love me.”

“What?” I gasp. “What are you talkin’ about?” I look toward her. “Momma?”

She straightens, running her hand down the front of her silk blouse. “Honestly, this entire conversation is tirin’. We have a congregation to get ready for. Don, end this nonsense, hmm?”

She moves to walk around me but I step in front of the door before she can reach it. “No, Momma. Were you lyin’ to me?”

“You are so naive,” she hisses. “Of course I wasn’t in love with him. My daddy forced me to marry him. I made a stupid mistake and the repercussions haunt me to this day.”

My heart throbs in my chest, the lacerations from her calling me a mistake as painful as if she reached in and punctured the tissue herself.

“You think I wanted this for my life?” she continues, waving her arm around the room. “To be stuck in this small town, bein’ the wife of a preacher and a mother to a daughter who can’t keep her name outta everyone’s mouth?”

I always knew Momma was unhappy, but I foolishly assumed it was because of Papa’s actions. I never once considered it was because she didn’t want to be here at all. “For years you made me believe Papa was the one who broke your heart. You made me feel sorry for you. Why would you lie about this?”

Disgust creeps through me at all the moments I wasted crying for her when she didn’t deserve a tear.

Her lips curl. “To make sure you left. I know that boy is back. And I just knew you wouldn’t stay away. Knew you’d be the talk of the town once again, and I won’t stand for bein’ the gossip, especially when it comes to you. Do you know how bad it makes me look? Like I can’t even control my own daughter?” Her eyes scan me up and down. “Elliot Carson will do nothin’ but break your heart, or worse, knock you up and trap you forever.”

I shake my head, trying to make sense of things. “No, but, back in Florida…you made me think Papa broke your heart. That he fell out of love with you.”

Momma lifts a shoulder, peering down at me. “I saw the way you two looked at each other in Florida, knew it was a scandal waitin’ to happen. I was honest with what I told you that night. You’d have gotten stuck. Just like I did.”

I stumble back a step, disbelief coating my insides at the levels Momma has gone to be the mastermind behind my life. This whole time I thought it was Papa pulling the strings, but it’s always been her.

A lone curl comes loose from her bun, falling on her forehead. She stops everything to fix it. Of course she does. Can’t have an imperfection tarnishing her image.

“Lust is one of the seven deadly sins for a reason. I did what I had to do. Besides, you’ve always been so easy to mold with words, Rebecca Jean. It’s one of your biggest flaws.”

A burn starts in my chest, whipping through my insides and licking at my bones, torching through my veins and swelling my throat. I breathe deep to keep the ache under control.

I am strong. I am bold. I own my power.

I look toward Papa to see his reaction, but he’s still as stone in his chair, his hand moving back and forth across his head like he can’t be bothered with what’s happening right in front of his face. Like he doesn’t even care. Like it’s just one big headache he’s trying to rub away.

I’ve always looked at Papa as a strong man, but now, all I see is weakness. I don’t know why I continue to let myself be surprised when they disappoint me.

I turn back to Momma. “Have you ever said a single truthful thing in your life, Momma?”

“You should be thankin’ me. I’ve been tryin’ to save you. I do what I have to do in order to protect my family.”

I huff out a laugh because she’s still trying to manipulate me. “No matter who you hurt.”

She scoffs. “Please. You don’t know what hurt is, Rebecca. Grow up.”

Part of me wants to cower. Lie down in my despair and let her words affect me the way they always have. It’s comfortable to stick with what you know, even if it’s unhealthy.

Another part of me wants to defend my emotions, because how dare she say I don’t know what it means to be hurt when she and Papa have hurt me the most? But if I do either of those things, she wins. So instead, I take a deep breath and repeat my affirmations.

I am strong. I am bold. I own my power.

I give her no reaction and give my attention to Papa. “So, what about Sally? You chose to make vows to Momma, and you break them like they mean nothin’.”

“What are you goin’ on about now, Rebecca? How do you know anything about me and Sally?” His voice is quiet and breathy, the way it gets after a long day.

“I saw you.”

“You were sloppy, Don,” Momma says. “How else would she know?”

Her voice sends a chill cascading over my body. She’s speaking to him as if this is something normal, like it’s something they’ve discussed a thousand times. And it hits me in this moment that maybe Papa didn’t sleep with Sally behind Momma’s back.

Maybe he did it with her blessing.

I don’t know for sure, and I don’t want to know. It won’t bring me peace. It won’t help me stitch back together our relationships. I don’t think there’s anything there to mend anyway.

A weight lands in the center of my chest and spreads, sinking my stomach at the realization that in order to truly cut my chains, I have to cut them .

“Rebecca, Sally and I?—”

I raise my hand. “I don’t wanna know, Papa. Truly, nothin’ you say will make a difference.” I close my eyes, trying to find ground in the center of this tornado. When I open them, Momma has moved back to stand by the desk, her hand on Papa’s shoulder.

A picture-perfect moment, even behind closed doors. They deserve each other.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Momma, but I’m stayin’.”

Papa nods. “That’s the right choice.”

I shake my head. “No, you’ve misunderstood me. I’m stayin’ in Sugarlake, but I’m not stayin’ with this church. I’m not stayin’ with this family.”

Momma huffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rebecca Jean. If you wanna stay, then stay , but don’t pretend like you’re not gonna be part of this family. The entire town will talk.”

I shrug. “Let ’em talk.”

“This is absurd,” Papa insists. “You will get over whatever issue you have with the choices your momma and I have made, and you’ll do your duty to this family.” His fist hits the top of the desk, bringing my eyes to the oak that’s caused me so much discomfort over the years. Now when I look at it, I feel nothing.

It’s not my problem anymore. It never really was.

“My duty ?” I laugh. “My duty is to myself. I’ve given more than enough to this farce of a family. I’m choosin’ to step away. You’re lucky that’s all I’m doin’.”

“One word from me and you’ll lose that precious job,” Papa hisses. “That place you love to rent. Gone.” He snaps his fingers. “You think my word doesn’t hold weight in this town? If I say I need you here, they’ll listen.”

“Maybe.” I suck on my teeth. “But I’d hate to see what happens when I tell everyone the truth.”

“What truth is that?” Papa’s brows raise.

“About how you preach purity and taint your soul with sins.”

Momma’s fingers tighten on his shoulder. “No one will believe you.”

“You sure you wanna test that theory?”

Papa’s jaw tenses, his eyes hardening.

Momma laughs. “So you’re just gonna ignore us while we live in this town together? You’re just gonna excommunicate us? We’ll have to tell people somethin’ .”

“That’s not my problem, Momma.” I smile softly, even though my heart twists in my chest. “I’d love to have both of you in my life. You’re my folks and even if I shouldn’t…I love you. I don’t know how not to. I just wish you’d love me back.” I shrug. “I’m not vengeful. I’ve accepted where we are, and I’ll learn to be okay with that. But I won’t let you manipulate me anymore.”

Papa looks away, and Momma stares for a long moment before finally giving a brisk nod. Dismissing me.

I leave willingly, relief at the closure I feel pouring over me and soaking into my skin, washing away the questions.

But with clarity comes grief.

I’m not sure what I expected, but even after all this time, I long for them to apologize. For them to seek redemption and for me to be able to grant it. I guess in at least one thing, Momma is right.

Fairy tales don’t exist.

Sometimes the villains continue on, thriving in their castles. And maybe happily ever after is finding peace in spite of that.

I am strong. I am bold. I own my power.