Page 89 of My One


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“Now we need to watch that movie again,” Nicole suggested. “I knew she looked familiar. I just couldn’t place her.”

“Me, too,” I agreed. We were silent again until I asked, “Anything else?”

“I have a question I’m dying to know,” Nic stated.

“What’s that?” Mom asked.

“Why was your house all white inside?”

“Yeah?” I questioned. “I don’t remember the Ventura house being like a hospital.”

Mother chuckled. “Spite.”

“Spite?” I balked.

“When Doug found out that you weren’t his, he changed. He became angry and unbearable to be around, but I stayed because he told me that he’d killed Avery, and I was scared. That night was actually the first night he’d ever laid a hand on me.”

“Where was I?” I asked because I had no clue that Doug had hit my mom.

“Where else? You were with the Crawfords.”

“Jimmy and Jane would have helped you,” I stated.

“I didn’t want them to be in danger.”

“God, Mom,” I groaned. “You could have gotten help. Could have gotten Doug arrested or something.”

She looked down at her lap. “I didn’t want to take that chance. I knew he had a cop friend and I was scared.”

“So, what did you do? Why was the house white?” I asked, bringing the question back to the original one my wife had asked.

“Well, he took away so much from me once he forbid me to keep in touch with you, so I started selling our shit. I refused to paint the walls, or have anything to make Doug happy.”

I chuckled sarcastically. “And he didn’t care?”

“He cared, but at that point, I didn’t care. You were in New York living your life, and I thought Avery was dead.”

“When did you find out he wasn’t dead?” Nicole asked.

“About a month before I supposedly died,” Mom answered.

“What took you so long to contact her, Avery?” Nic questioned.

“Because I wasn’t sure what would happen. It had been too long, and I didn’t know how she felt for Doug after all this time. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, and one night while I was drunk, I sent her a message on Facebook.”

“How did you prove it was you if she didn’t believe you at first?” I asked.

“I got her with one of my love notes like I used to leave her, and it took a little bit more proof to prove to her that it was me.”

“Like, you two Facetimed each other?” Nic wondered.

“Actually, yes,” Mom agreed. We were silent again until my mom spoke. “So, that’s the story.”

“It’s still surreal to me.” I gulped the rest of the beer before it got warm.

“Me too,” my wife agreed.

“There are a few more things that need to be said,”Dadstated.