Even Mom assumed I’d sit in Liberty State Park by the dock, staring at the Manhattan skyline while grieving the loss of my husband. She had no idea I was heading to the Memorial Pools.
Tired of waiting, Paige rages on as tears well in her eyes and the betrayal she feels is visible on her face.
“For years I asked if perhaps we could visit the memorial, until I finally went to see it by myself when I moved there. I wanted desperately to see his name on the memorial, but you wouldn’t come any closer than Liberty State Park and watch the Tribute in Light from there. Why would you go without me? Why lie about it?”
“Honey, it’s…it’s something I needed to do on my own.” I take her hand and pull her with me to the living room where I sit down, waiting for her to do the same. “People deal with loss differently,” I say carefully when she finally sits. “I have my way to cope but never wanted that to influence the way you grieved his loss. The way you remember him.”
She yanks her hand from mine and abruptly gets to her feet.
“You have no idea how I remember him, Mom. Or maybe I should say how I’ve tried hard to forget him.”
My mouth drops open.
“Why would you want to—”
“Oh, come on, Mom,” she interrupts me, cutting her hand through the air. “You can’t be that blind. The man held a gun to my head. He threatened to kill me—it left me with nightmares for years—it’s the most vivid memory of him I have.”
“But…” I sputter, but nothing more comes out. I’m too stunned.
I remember right after he died she would sometimes come in my room at night to ask me if I was sure her daddy wasn’t coming back. Those were the only times she talked about him. I always thought she missed him and wanted to sleep with me for comfort. Turns out I was wrong.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I was afraid to upset you. Mom, I was five—not stupid. Dad always scared the crap out of me. Did you know my nightmares stopped when I saw his name chiseled in stone? I needed to see it for myself.”
She turns on her heel and disappears in the direction of the bedrooms. When I hear a door slam, I drop my head in my hands.
How stupid of me to think I could make her forget what he put us through. She’s right, even at five she had been sharp as a tack. Never said a word out of place when her father was around. Hell, other than occasionally asking me to take her to the 9/11 Memorial since it opened when she was fifteen, she never mentioned his name.
I should’ve known.
I rub my face in my hands and force myself to my feet, following her down the hall. My daughter is an adult and she deserves to know.
She’s lying on her old bed, facing the wall when I walk in.
“Oh, honey…” I lie down in bed beside her, staring up at the ceiling. “I’d hoped you’d never have to find out your father wasn’t a good man,” I start. “I was still so young and wide-eyed, living in the big city. I didn’t have a lot of experience and was swept off my feet when this older, handsome, and successful man paid me attention. I got pregnant, he wanted to get married, and you know? Life was pretty good for a while.”
I keep my eyes on the ceiling but can feel her turning in the bed.
“Until?” she asks softly.
“Until after I had you. I’m not sure exactly when it started, but I blamed myself at first. I was a brand-new mom and my support system lived halfway across the country. I didn’t recognize it as postpartum depression at the time. Your father was a busy man, he didn’t adjust well to sharing my attention and forced me to see a doctor, a friend of his, who put me on anti-depressants.”
I roll on my side and find myself looking into my daughter’s identical eyes.
“I saw less and less of him and days would go by where I wouldn’t see or hear from him at all. Whenever I had a chance to question him, he blamed it on me. It took a while, but I eventually started getting angry. I stopped taking the pills without telling him and booked a flight for you and I to go see Gram and Pap. I needed some space to get my head clear.”
She has a pained look on her face and I take one of her hands in mine.
“He wasn’t happy with me when he discovered. Told me, given my fragile mental state, he wouldn’t hesitate taking you from me. Claimed his doctor friend would attest to the fact I wasn’t of sound mind. He threatened if I tried as much as to leave the house with you without his permission, he’d have me committed. I was cut off from Gram and Pap, any friends I’d made. He canceled our landline and took my cell phone. If I wanted or needed to call, he…”
“Oh, Mom,” she sighs.
“I tried to get away, honey. Several times, but I couldn’t risk losing you. Your father worked for some shady characters. Dangerous and powerful people.”
“What do you mean? What kind of people?”
An image of a meeting in Rick’s home office I walked in on, after putting Paige down for a nap, surfaces. The door I’d just pushed open ripped from my hand, and a gun pressed to my forehead was my first real indication my husband’s business dealings weren’t aboveboard. I could read the ruthlessness from the eyes of the goon on the other end of the gun, and I promptly let go of my bladder.
Rick yelled at me. I can’t even
