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LANDRY WINDOWS COPPER
Hiding my despair ishow I’ve survived since childhood. Early on, I realized tears and other negative emotions drew unwanted attention to me.
Now, even as my heart feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, I smile for my children. Exhausted from their time at the clinic, they yawn as I tuck them into bed. I promise tomorrow will be better. As usual, I tell them lies. The truth would steal their innocence and dreams.
My promises can’t hide the cast on nine-year-old Blair’s left arm. I see her putting on the same mask I wear. She tells three-year-old Brooklyn how her arm doesn’t hurt. More lies to make life bearable.
I leave my four blond children in their crowded room. For ten years, this two-bedroom house has been my prison. I remember feeling relief when I arrived in Beehive Ridge with Neal. So thankful to escape my last prison, I hurried right into my new one.
With four kids and a baby on the way, I’m trapped. That’s why there’s no happy truth for Blair. We can’t get away from this life. I’m incapable of taking my kids, moving to a new home, getting a job, and supporting them.
Even if I could somehow financially stand on my own, Neal and the Copper family would never let me take the kids. To gain my freedom, I’d need to sacrifice them.
My body hurts as I change into my PJs. The house is quiet. When we returned from the clinic, I expected Neal to be home, but the house is empty. Not even our cat, Succotash, is around.
I sink into the lumpy family room couch and eat goldfish crackers. My brain tells me to watch trashy TV and distract from my aches and pains. Avoiding reality is how I’ve survived. Instead, I wallow in my heartache tonight.
I can still hear Blair cry out when Neal wrapped his fat fingers around her little arm and twisted until the bone snapped. Normally, I run interference for my babies and take the beatings, so they remain bruise-free. Earlier tonight, Neal had been in a foul mood, and Blair’s patience with her father ran out.
I heard them bitching at each other on the back deck while I changed two-year-old Beckett’s diaper. My fingers moved as fast as they could to finish up. I held my breath, willing Blair to bite her tongue. Soon, her long-haul-trucker father would be out of town again. She just had to endure his crap for a few more days.
I finished up with Beckett’s diaper and hurried around Brooklyn playing with her dolls. I’d just stepped over four-year-old Beau in the kitchen when I heard Neal yell “cunt” followed by Blair’s pained squeal.
I hollered his name, drawing his attention to me as usual. Neal swung around and elbowed me in the mouth. I nearly fell before steadying myself and cradling my swollen belly filled with our fifth child.
Glancing between his crying daughter and his heavily pregnant wife, Neal kicked the kids’ block bucket and told us to shut up. That only set off Beau, Beckett, and Brooklyn. As I took Blair inside, a pissed Neal grabbed his cigarettes and returned to the backyard to escape the kids’ tears.
With him missing but his truck in the driveway, I figure someone in his family gave him a ride. That or one of his girlfriends picked him up. When ten o’clock comes along without hearing from Neal, I let myself hope he won’t return for the night.Can’t he be someone else’s problem for a while?
Alone in the family room with only the TV for light, I stare at the screen and struggle against the useless tears burning my eyes. Besides my children, I have nothing to show for my existence.
As I sit on the lumpy couch, I’m haunted by Blair’s pained cry. I recall the judgment in the clinic staff’s eyes. They know I failed.
Not just today. My entire life led me to this moment. I fucked up early and often. At fourteen, I sealed my children’s fate by running away from home. I thought I was smart, but I locked myself out of a hundred opportunities. My babies weren’t born to a woman with a plan and stability. They got stuck with my loser ass instead.
Fighting the urge to cry, I recall my many poor life choices. I’ve only reached up to the age of ten when I hear a quick knock at the door.
I wait for something to happen. Neal might have locked himself out. Or one of his idiot family members might have shown up drunk. I never consider a psycho attacking the house, let alone thieves. Who would rob this dumpy house?
Hearing keys unlock the door, I sigh and wait for one of the Coppers to enter. I pray it’s not Neal’s father. Jakob’s a bigger asshole than my husband.
The entire Copper family has a collective screw loose. They start fights at the grocery store, set off firecrackers inside the house, and have kids they refuse to raise. Beehive Ridge—despite its lovely name—is a redneck toilet. Yet, even the local turds avoid the painfully stupid Copper clan.
I wait for one of the idiots to enter and turn a bad night into a true nightmare. As if to create a more dramatic effect, the front door swings slowly open. A massive shadowed figure enters.
Despite a lifetime of violence, I’m instantly gripped by fear. I can’t breathe. My mouth goes dry. I cradle my belly as the man comes into the TV’s light.
I stare in horror at the broad-shouldered beast standing over six foot six. His heavy chest expands with hard, angry breaths. His long, dark hair and thick beard give him an untamed aura.
In the back of my mind, hidden behind my current dread, I recall seeing him around town. There’s no missing a man of his intimidating size and rugged good looks. People move aside when he enters a room.
Now, he’s entered mine with keys he likely took from Neal. My stomach flips as I realize the way tonight ends.Is this how my son-of-a-bitch husband finds freedom?
Riding parallel to my icy fear, my temper balks at Neal’s audacity. The man brought me to Beehive Ridge and refused to let me leave. He knocked me up despite me never wanting children. Once I was sufficiently in love with our child, he threatened to steal her away if I ever wronged him. When I still attempted to flee this town, he tracked me down again and again.
For years, I was lucky enough to dodge another pregnancy. My hope was to successfully bolt when Blair was old enough for school. That would make working easier. We could start over somewhere.
Except I got pregnant with Beau. Soon, Brooklyn arrived. Beckett came not long after. Every baby anchored me to that petty man. After all that, Neal wants me dead?
