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“She won’t find out, Momma. Come on, let’s go to my house, so we can talk privately. I need you to tell me everything.” I say, turning my back to her, and leaving the room. Momma hesitates, then follows behind me. Savannah meets us in the hall, and I give her a hug, and thank her for dinner. Momma embraces her tight, and tells her she will be back later.
We drive to my house in silence, the only noise filling the car is Momma’s foot tapping the floor board. It’s annoying, but I know her nerves are shaken.
When we pull up the drive way, a slight whimper escapes her lips. She hasn’t been to this house in eighteen years. I can only imagine the memories or nightmares that are flooding back. I grip her hand in mine, and give it a light squeeze before shutting the engine off, and getting out of the car.
Chapter 23
I walk inside my house, leaving the front door open for Momma. I know she’s trying to gain her strength to come inside. I hang my keys by the door, and kick off my shoes. I pad into the kitchen to get a water, but decide Momma may need some liquid courage, so I grab a bottle of Jack and two tumblers from the cabinet. When I get to the living room, Momma is standing in the door, looking around the room in shock.
“Momma, it’s ok. You can come inside. Shut the door, and I’ll start a fire.” She does as I ask, but doesn’t say a word.
Her cheeks are stained red from the silent tears she cried in the car ride here. She takes a seat on the couch, wrapping her arms tight around her waist. I sit beside of her, and sit the Jack and tumblers down on the coffee table in front of us.
“Drink?” I ask her, but she shakes her head from side to side.
“I hoped you girls would never know the kind of heartache that I know, thanks to your daddy. I loved him like something fierce, Carly. You have to believe that. But I wasn’t enough. He had just purchased the second mines and was so tired and stressed all of the time. He began to push me away, and I let him.” Momma inhales a deep breath as she tries to steady her trembling hands. “He came home late at night, drunk. He would crawl into bed, smelling of whiskey and push himself on me. He used me like I was a piece of trash. I never rejected him. I tried to keep in mind that I was his wife, and he was just tired from working hard, building his empire.” She says, waving her hands around the room.
“Until he came home smelling of perfume. It hurt so bad to know that he could lay with another woman, when he had me here at home, vying for his love and attention. I never mentioned the affair, but every Thursday night, he came home reeking of cheap Avon perfume. I wanted to leave him so badly, but my heart belonged to him.” Momma pinches her eyes shut and releases a small whimper. I slide closer to her, and wrap my hand around her unsteady hand. She is trembling uncontrollably. Anxiety creeps through my chest, but I take a deep breath and fight the urge to cry. She needs to tell her story. I asked for it, now I need to stand tall, and deal with what she needs to say.
“One night, he came in drunk, and woke me up. I heard him downstairs, bumping into the tables, knocking the lamps over, shattering picture frames to the floor. I pulled the blanket up to my neck, and pretended to sleep. He kicked the bedroom door open, and came stumbling inside. No matter how hard I fought him, he was bigger, stronger than I was. I cried, screamed, and begged for mercy, but he didn’t care. He gripped my chin tightly in his palm, and told me I was his, and he could do what he pleased. He just laughed at me as I cried out.” She stifles back the tears, shaking her head.
“After, he passed out in the bed, I locked myself in the bathroom. I sat in the tub, with the shower beaming down on me, hoping the heat and steam would wash away his filth, and the pain he inflicted on me. He was my husband, but he raped me. I said no, but he didn’t care. I can still see the angry look in his eyes. The next morning, as I sat at the kitchen table, glaring down in shock at my coffee, he came into the kitchen and poured himself a cup, kissed my forehead and went on to work as if nothing had happened. I contemplated leaving him, but never could gain the strength to walk away. No matter how hurt I was, I loved him.”
I didn’t realize I had begun to cry, until I felt Momma reach her silky fingers to my cheeks to wipe away the tears that were flowing. She patted my leg, and continued. “A short while later, I found out I was pregnant with Savannah, and things got better for a while. He was so happy our little family had come together, which is what we both always wanted. Simon Energy continued to grow. Your daddy and I picked this house out together when I was pregnant with you, ya know. I was confident John had ended his affair, as he spent most all of his time either at the mines, or here at home with us.
“Then there was the accident. Picketing was serious business. Men wanted higher wages and better benefits. The miners had been on strike for a couple of weeks, when it happened. The story told, was that Matt Varney, a mine foreman, was called into a meeting at Simon Energy. When he crossed the picket line, he was shot down. You were about one year old when it happened. A few days after the accident, I heard him on the phone, asking about Drew, telling her he loved her. He began to scream and cuss, before slamming the receiver down. For weeks after that, he was never here. He spent all of his time at Simon Energy. There were federal investigators crawling the place day and night, trying to solve the picket line murder. You know the man that died that day, his wife was your daddy’s mistress. Her name is Emma. Her son, Drew, well I am sure you have already dug up that buried secret.” Momma stifles back the tears, as she reaches across the table to get a Kleenex to dry her face.
“So you have known all along that Drew was Daddy’s son? Is that why you left?” I ask, in a weak voice. I’m trembling, chilled to the bone from the story she is telling.
“It took me a while to figure it out, b
ut yes, I have known for years that Drew was your daddy’s son. But that is not why I left. I left because I was terrified of the monster I was married to. I am certain that he had Matt Varney murdered, but there has never been any evidence to prove such a thing. After I pieced together the puzzle of Drew, your father and the murder, I began to hate him even more. I questioned my life entirely, and needed an escape. John and I had no relationship, we merely lived under the same roof, and were parents to the same beautiful girls.
“I began to skim money from our checking account, and eventually had a nice nest egg put aside. I went to him one night, and told him I was leaving and that I wanted a divorce. You don’t remember that night, Carly?” I shrug my shoulders, shaking my head.
“You were sitting on the steps, with your little face peeking through the banister, eaves dropping. Oh I will never forget the fear written across your face. It crushed my heart. You and Savannah watched as your daddy back handed my face, over and over. His strikes were never ending. By the time he had finished his assault, my face was black, and I couldn’t see from my right eye. I left the next morning, and never looked back. I was always so terrified of him, and what he was capable of.”
I clinch my eyes shut and try to think back, digging through the memories. Momma’s crying, begging for Daddy to let her go, and with each plea, he strikes her face again. Savannah’s sitting behind me on the stairs, gripping my shoulders tight, crying.
I don’t know why I’ve never thought of that night, or why I never connected this incident with Momma leaving. Maybe it was the continuous lies we were fed, made to believe that she didn’t want us any longer. “Momma, if you were so terrified of Daddy, why did you leave Savannah and me here? Why didn’t you take us with you?
“Because I was just that scared of him, Carly. He promised me that if I ever tried to take his little girls away from him, that he would kill me and bury my body so deep in the back of the mines that nobody would ever find me. I knew he meant business. When he promised me that, I knew in that moment that Matt Varney’s blood was on his hands. You never crossed John Simon, you never threatened his family.” Chest wracking sobs escape her chest, as mascara runs down her face. I scoot closer to her, and wrap my arms around her neck, and cry with her.
After Momma’s tears have dried, we just talk. She tells me about how happy she is in Florida, and that Garrett is the true love of her life. I’m glad she was able to move on from the abuse and hardships she endured being married to Daddy. She deserves happiness.
It feels good to have this time with her. We laugh, and cry over the few memories we cherish together. Momma and I bond, promising that we will build new memories together, to make up for all of those that were stripped from us. When darkness falls, I take her back to Savannah’s house so she can spend the weekend with Brailee and Braden.
Thanksgiving shaped up to be much better than I expected. I wasn’t alone, eating a TV dinner; I was with family. I created memories with Savannah and Brailee, preparing dinner, and playing in turkey guts. No matter how disgusting it was, we still had lots of laughs. I reconnected with my momma, after years of being estranged. We both harbor my daddy’s dark secrets, and I’m confident that we have created a tight bond with that, regardless of how twisted it may seem. Together, we will keep his secrets to protect Savannah.
Chapter 24
Colton
I hated not spendin’ Thanksgivin’ with Carly Jo, but I couldn’t persuade her to come to Tennessee with my family. She had already made plans with Savannah and her family. I understood. She’s buildin’ new relationships with her family, just as she is with me, and I’m sure they needed the time together. She told me she was expectin’ her momma to come home for the holiday, and even though she didn’t say anything specific, I could sense her reluctance at seein’ her again. I didn’t push, just figure she’ll talk when she is ready to open up.
I know Carly Jo has a strained relationship with Elizabeth, ‘cause she was never around when we were kids, and I can’t imagine how hard that has been on her. I’d never made it through life without my momma. She may have switched my ass hard as a kid, and she still smacks me upside the head and reminds me to keep my tongue in check, but without my momma, I wouldn’t be the man I am today.
I’ll be workin’ another long ass twelve hours today, since we’re just startin’ production up from the holiday shut down. I haven’t seen Carly Jo since Wednesday afternoon, and I’m itchin’ to get my arms around her. It’s just after four a.m., when I arrive at Simon Energy, so I know she’s still snug warm in her bed, hopefully dreamin’ of me.
