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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

BECKHAM

Casey’s been trying to get me to talk since we got on the bus, but if I do, I might blow. But I won’t. Not right now. I refuse to let that woman have any power over me. And honestly, it’s more the fact that I saw her with Charlie that messed me up.

I knew being back in Pennsylvania was going to be hard, but I tried to stay focused on the game. Knowing my family was there, that Charlie was there, helped me to forget about the reasons why it was difficult, being here. I didn’t even know my mom had gotten out of prison, although we had known she was up for parole again in August. I’m guessing my dad knew she had gotten out and didn’t want to tell me because of the playoffs.

I sure as shit didn’t expect her to come to my fucking game. I wonder how she even got a ticket. They weren’t cheap, and I’m sure she’s had trouble getting a job with her record.

Coach pulled me aside before I got on the bus and asked me what had happened. He knows my family history and knows about my mom. I told him she was here, and he told me to let him know if I needed anything. Right now, I need to be anywhere but here.

All the guys are still hyped up from the game as we pull into the hotel. There are people standing outside, waiting for us to arrive, decked out in their Walker gear. Most of the people are family members, but there are some fans staying at the same hotel too.

I’m seated by the tinted window, watching everyone outside, cheering and celebrating. Casey nudges me to get up so we can disembark, but I wave him off.

“I’m good. I’ll wait for everyone to get off and then come in.”

“I’ll wait with you. I’m not letting you sit in here and walk in there alone. You’re my best friend, Beck. I’ve got your back, man.” Casey sits back down in the seat and lifts his fist for a bump.

I make a fist and bump his hand and nod once. I look back out the window to look for Charlie. I want to see her so bad, but also don’t. I have to explain it all now whether I want to or not. I can’t brush this under the rug anymore. And if I want a future with her, she needs to know it all.

Once everyone is off the bus, Casey and I get up to leave. We have to get our bags that the driver set out for us from the undercarriage. Our bags are the last two player bags left. We grab them and head into the hotel. Most of the family members and fans have gone inside now. A lot of them are still hanging around the lobby though. Some of the guys have stopped to talk to people, and I see Coach hugging his wife and kids. Everyone looks so fucking happy.

Casey is walking beside me and nudges me to get my attention. He tilts his head toward a seating area, where we see Charlie sitting by herself. She looks upset, and I hate that I’m the reason for it. I’d rather not have this discussion here, so I’m hoping to talk about it when we get home, but I have a feeling I won’t be so lucky.

“I’m going to drop my bag and go see my parents. You good?” Casey asks as we get closer to where Charlie is sitting.

“Yeah, I’m good. Will you take my bag up with you to the room?” I turn to him, and he reaches out his hand for my bag. “Thanks, Case. I’ll be up after I talk to her.”

“Okay. We can talk about all of this after you speak to her, but I do think it’s past time you tell both of us the whole story, don’t you?” He looks at me, eyebrows raised in question.

“I know. It’s just a part of my life I try not to think about.”

“Brother, it’s Charlie. Nothing you say will change the way she feels about you. You guys are in a really good place. Now, go over there and don’t make my sister cry.” He nods and turns to walk away.

I watch him as he gets on the elevator. I can feel Charlie’s eyes on me now. I can’t avoid this anymore, so I walk over to her. She’s sitting in a chair, and there’s an empty one with a table between them.

Her hand is on the arm of the chair, and I reach over and grab it.

“Hey,” I say quietly.

“Beck …” She starts to speak, but stops and swallows.

I’m sure she wants to fire out so many questions.

Her hand is still in mine, and I pull her up. “Come on. Let’s go take a walk.”

It’s still pretty cold outside, and I don’t have a coat on over my suit, but I can’t feel much of anything right now. But I do make sure she grabs her coat from the chair.

“Your gloves in your coat?”

She nods, lets go of my hand, and puts on her coat. As we get to the doors, they slide open, and a gust of cold air hits us. I hear Charlie gasp next to me.

“It’s not that bad. We won’t stay out here for long.”

“Beck, what’s going on? Are you, like, breaking up with me again? I’ve been sitting here, losing my mind. I’m so sorry I brought her onto the field with me.” She’s speaking rapidly, showing how nervous she is.

We walk toward an open seating area outside the hotel and sit on one of the benches. There isn’t really anywhere else to go. The hotel is located somewhat close to the stadium, but it seems like they probably use this hotel for conventions or something. We could find a place in the hotel somewhere, but some of the things I need to say, I don’t want anyone to overhear.

“Everything’s okay, Boss.” I squeeze her hand to try to reassure her.

“Beck, I need to know what happened with your mom. I feel like I’m missing a lot of pieces of the puzzle here. What did your dad mean about her parole officer? Was she in prison?” Her eyes widen in question.

“I was four years old the first time I remember my mom hitting me, spanking me, slapping my face. I don’t remember what I had done, but I will never forget that first hit. Brooke was just a baby, and she cried a lot. I remember feeling like my mom wasn’t okay. Because I was so little, the only way I could understand it at the time was that she just wasn’t herself, probably because that’s what she would say to me.” I pause and take a deep breath in and exhale.

“My dad used to travel a lot for work, so he would be gone on long trips. I don’t know if him being away made her mad or what, but she was left with two babies to take care of, mostly on her own.

“Don’t get me wrong; I don’t blame my dad for any of this. He didn’t know what was happening until the end really. When he came home, it was like she was a different person. She was happy and loving to me and Brooke, but when he was gone, we got spanked a lot. She would forget to feed us. She wouldn’t change Brooke’s diapers. I pretty much potty-trained Brooke on my own.

“And then, when I was six, she forgot to pick me up from school one day. Brooke was still in preschool then. After an hour of waiting, I walked myself to the preschool—which was probably about four miles away, thinking about it now. So, for a little kid, that was far.

“When I got there, I had to be buzzed into the building. The director came to the door, and when she saw me, she opened the door, looked around the parking lot, and pulled me inside. She asked where my mom was, and I told her I didn’t know. She took me back to Brooke’s classroom and brought me some juice and a snack. Brooke … she was just fine. She was happy to see me. I saw the director say something to the teacher and walk out. About an hour later, my mom came into the classroom. Her hair was all over the place. She looked like she had just gotten out of bed, and she smelled funny.

“It was the first time I knew that my mom had been drinking. That I understood what that meant. She had probably been drinking before then, too, but I was too little to notice.

“The director came in behind my mom, and I remember she looked upset. My mom got Brooke’s bag together and told me to grab mine. The director drove us home. Again, I was little and didn’t really understand what was going on, but I knew something wasn’t right.

“Of course, I found out later that my mom had been drinking all day and passed out. She didn’t hear the alarm she had set for herself to come get us. The director went to our house when she couldn’t get ahold of my mom or my dad, worried something was wrong. Then she’d brought my mom to the school because she was still too drunk to drive.

“When I was seven, I had been watching Brooke because my mom was asleep. When I went into the kitchen to get us a snack, Brooke fell off a chair. She had stood on the chair to try to reach something off one of the bookshelves and lost her balance. Her arm was broken, so I had to wake my mom up to tell her we needed to go to the hospital. Again, my dad was gone at the time. I have no doubt that when we got there, the doctor and nurses knew she was drunk or had been. She smelled so bad.”

I pause for a minute and look at Charlie. She has tears streaming down her face. I reach over to wipe her cheeks, and she grabs my wrist.

“Beck,” she says on a shaky breath, “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” She shakes her head, and tears start to fall faster.

“When we got home from the hospital that night, my mom was so mad at me for not watching Brooke properly. She tied me to a chair and put me in the closet. She left me in there all night. I hadn’t eaten, and I wet my pants several times throughout the night.

“The next morning, she opened the door, sober, and started crying when she saw me. She apologized over and over again. Begged me not to tell my dad about what had happened. Promised it would never happen again.

“Of course, the spanking and slapping never stopped, and as we got older, the hits got harder. I would try to insert myself in Brooke’s way to protect her. I was bigger and could handle much more than she could.” I lean forward, rest my elbows on my knees, and fold my hands together.

Telling someone I love that all this happened to me … is hard. I’ve never talked about it outside of my family and therapy. Tim and Carol know a little, but I never told them all of this.

“The final incident was when I was eight. My mom was in the kitchen, making something for dinner. I was sitting on the couch in the family room, doing my homework. I wasn’t allowed to watch TV until it was done. I wasn’t paying attention to where Brooke was, but she walked into the kitchen at some point, and I heard my mom scream. When I looked up, my mom had Brooke’s hair wrapped in her fist and was pulling her toward the stove. I jumped up from the couch and ran into the kitchen. I grabbed my mom’s arm and was able to pull her grip from Brooke’s hair.”

I look over at Charlie. Her hands are covering her mouth, and she’s still crying.

“My intention was to get her to stop altogether. Instead, she grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me over to the stove. There was a frying pan with oil in it. She was still screaming at Brooke, who had gotten into my mom’s makeup. Her face was covered in it. To teach her a lesson, she was going to burn her hand. But she burned mine instead. She put my hand right in the oil. I tried to fight her, but she was still too strong for me. At first, the pain from the burn didn’t register. I was kicking her, trying to pull her arm off me with my other hand. Brooke was wrapped around her legs. Nothing was stopping her though. About the time I started to smell the skin burning, I began to feel the pain. We were all screaming at that point. I’m honestly surprised none of the neighbors ever heard us. Screaming was a common occurrence.” I huff out a laugh.

Charlie stands up and squats down in front of me, resting her hands on top of mine. “Beck, I don’t even know what to say right now. I can’t believe this happened to you. To Brooke. How could a mother do something like that to her children? But also, why didn’t you ever tell your dad?”

Something about the tone of her question sets me off.

“Why didn’t I tell my dad?” My voice is rising, and I can feel my heartbeat speeding up. It’s not like I haven’t been asked this question before, but the way she asked makes me feel stupid and weak.

“Because my mother would threaten to starve and beat us if we did! Before he came home from a trip, she would be all sweet with us. Pretend to be the perfect mom. She would stop drinking the day before he came home. WE WERE CHILDREN, Charlie! The person who was supposed to take care of us hurt us almost every. Single. Day. She would gaslight us, manipulate us. So, she was not only physically hurting us, but she was also emotionally abusive. I obviously didn’t know the terms for all of it until I had to go to counseling, but that’s what she did.” I pull my hands from under hers and stand.

“So, what happened then? When did she go to jail? I’m trying to understand the timeline of all of it. Help me understand so I can help you.”

She reaches for my hands again, but I pull away.

“Help you understand? To this day, I’m still trying to understand how a mother could do this. And you want me to help you understand?! It’s taken me years of therapy to get over some of the stuff we went through. I thank God every day that Brooke doesn’t remember as much as I do.”

I start to walk away, but she grabs my arm. I can’t look at her right now. If I do, I might start crying.

“Charlie, you just don’t get it. You. Casey. Your family. And, hell, football. All of you helped me forget. You allowed me to have a place to push the past behind me, but now she’s out. My past has collided with my present, and there’s no going back.”

“Let us be that for you now. We’re still here for you.”

I pull my arm out of her grasp. I shake my head and clench my jaw.

Seeing my mom today, looking into her cold eyes, brought it all back. It doesn’t matter that, on the outside, she looks like a typical suburban mom. She had the fucking nerve to smile and act like she was the nervous one when, really, I was the one trembling on the inside. Just one glance, and I could feel her hands on me as she’d pummeled me with pain. The scars on my hands were on fire, and there was nothing to do to put them out. My mother—my very own mother—is the one who did this to me. Who made me hate myself for merely existing.

It’s been years since I’ve seen her. I did a great job of keeping that hatred inside me away, but one encounter with her, and it’s all back.

I’m nothing.

I’m bad.

I’m not worthy of love.

I claw at my scar as I pace in front of Charlie, trying to explain the basic fact that we will never be the same.

“You and Casey grew up with two parents who loved you unconditionally. And I’m so glad you didn’t have to go through what we did. But you won’t ever really understand.”

“Beck! I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what to say. I feel absolutely sick that you guys went through that. You’ve never told us anything about her, so I’m trying to process it all. I’m sorry. Please stay and talk to me.”

She’s pleading with me, but I need to be done with this conversation.

Charlie is all things good in this world.

She doesn’t deserve to be brought into my nightmare.

“Charlie, go back to your room. We’ll talk when we get home. I need some space right now. Seeing you standing next to her? All I could think was that the best part of my life was standing next to the worst part of my life. I thought maybe it was a sick joke or a hallucination from all the adrenaline from the game. But there she was, poisoning just one more good thing in my life.”

“Don’t let her destroy what we have. She was a horrible mother, but you’re an amazing man, Beck. Please don’t let anything she said or did ruin who you are.”

“It’s everything I am. Don’t you get it? Even you never thought I was good enough or else you would have never believed Britney. Which she was sure to remind me of when I saw her after the game against Chandler.”

“Wait, what ?”

“You thought the worst of me once too.”

“Beck, please. That was two years ago, and we already hashed that out. I told you I was sorry.”

“There was a reason you believed it. I was never worthy.”

“NO. Please. You can’t think that about yourself.”

She grabs my arm again, but I pull away.

“I gotta go.”

I walk back into the hotel and don’t look back.