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Rocky, A Christmas Story, and Back to the Future.
Field of Dreams, Ghost.
The Outsiders.
“Hope,” I whispered.
A DVD player, a turntable, dozens of vinyls.
My hands shook.
My nose stung.
I turned away.
Where there used to be a mirror, a beautiful painting. The one Hope bought for herself.
I smiled.
My girl was moving in.
Above it hung a horizontal wall sconce, two small switches mounted beside it.
I flicked the first switch. Soft lighting lit up the painting beneath, lending the details startling dimension. The second switch unfurled a wide viewing screen to cover it entirely.
Bracing my hands on my hips, I tipped my head back.
Closed my eyes.
Me. I’ll stand between her and your childhood.
When the doorbell rang, it was those words I held close. Those words that buoyed me. Because I knew I wouldn’t have to shield her alone.
Now, I studied the broken man seated in front of me.
“I need answers.”
“I’ll tell you whatever I can.”
“Why did you marry her? Was there any indication she would treat me the way she did? And be fucking honest,” I barked.
He took a deep breath as his mouth turned down. “I married her because she was pregnant. She was the first, and only, after losing your mother.” The tear he didn’t bother to brush aside attested to the grief that shaded his world. “We worked together. At first, she was kind and she made me laugh. We went out a few times, and I told her I wouldn’t ever fall in love again. I don’t think she believed me.” He winced with regret before meeting my eyes. “By the time she figured it out, she was pregnant for the second time and dependant on a man who would never love her back.”
“It’s no excuse for how she treated me,” I bit out.
He shook his head. “It’s not. But it’s the reason she chose the way she did.”
“Why didn’t you leave her?”
“Because I didn’t see how bad it was until there were two more children who needed me.”
“And Viola?”
He huffed out a short laugh, not entirely devoid of sorrow. “By that time, we were little more than hostile roommates. Viola was the best mistake I ever made.”
I looked away, thinking about my little sister. Her sweetness. The tenderness she brought to my life. The love I took with me when I left.
“I can’t disagree. I don’t know who I would have been without her.”
