“Okay,” Harry replied, moving closer. He never took his eyes from the television, either. I had to close my eyes to enjoy it. I couldn’t look at his face, knowing that was what was making my pussy so wet. I let Harry come over every night after that. I let him finger me every night, but he never tried anything else. I had to do that, too.
Don’t get me wrong, the month that I spent letting Harry rub my pussy was grand, but just like the pornography I watched, it got old. I finally asked him if he wanted me to jack him off. He said okay and pulled down his pants. Harry was very well endowed. My fingers barely touched around his girth and it had to be a nine incher. He was huge, and I wasn’t sure I wanted that to be my undoing. And I couldn’t look at him while he fucked me. How the hell was I supposed to pull that one off? I was afraid of anything more than the customary missionary style sex would hurt.
I got him to fuck me by asking him if he wanted to play a game. He had to wear a ski mask and pretend we were at a party and I didn’t know who he was, yes that came from Alissa Sparks. My pussy thanked me for it later. I imagined Harry being Bradly Coper while he fucked me. It was easy after that night. My pussy wanted more and so did Harry. All I had to do was invite him over and tell him not to forget his mask. That old saying about putting a bag over their head…I did that.
“Hey wait a minute,” I said, leaving my college friend Harry in my mind. I wonder what happened to him. “Why didn’t you say anything about Garrison being gay?” Olivia looked out the window on her side, avoiding eye contact. She was hiding something. “Olivia?”
“It’s none of my business.”
“I’ve made everything else your business. I have no idea what the hell is wrong with me. I’m just letting them all spew out all of a sudden. Skeletons are running from my dark closet, left and right. It must be the hormones. Tell me,”
“I can’t believe you didn’t know.”
“What? How would I know?”
“He had all the signs. One of my best friends is gay. Garrison is just like Clay, only smarter.”
“Signs? Like?” I questioned.
“Shoes for one. Straight men don’t have a bigger shoe collection than their wives. And they sure as hell don’t have as many facial products as their wives. He watches every chic-flick that comes out. Have you ever looked at the movies in your theater?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve picked a lot of those movies out for him, too.”
“Exactly. You’re the only female I know who has ever bought their husband the gold plated Notebook DVD. Men hate the notebook. Jackson makes puking noises throughout the whole thing.”
“Just because he watches comedy romance doesn’t mean he is gay. That’s so stereotype,” I accused.
“Stereotype? I heard you call a little kid a nasty fuck, before you left to go to the beach house. The kid didn’t do anything but count out pennies for a candy bar.”
I almost told her kids like him aren’t supposed to shop there, but that was only going to point out my hypocrite stereotype. “Okay, I’ll own that one, but you’re right. I should have known. We never had sex, I mean we did, if that’s what you want to call it.”
“I’m glad you have Sam. I just hope this baby turns out to be his and Not, Garrison’s. Poor kid.”
“I’m not telling Sam.”
“What do you mean, you’re not telling Sam? You have to tell Sam.”
“No I don’t. And neither do you. I’m not going to see Sam anymore.”
“What’s going on? He said you left, saying you had to be here to sign papers and go over things, and then you wouldn’t answer his calls. He’s really worried about you.”
“No he’s not. I can’t be with a man that can’t trust me around his daughter.”
Yes that’s what my mouth did It crapped the crappiest crap that ever crapped before. I spent the next two hours spilling my entire unending mortification with my stepmother. I even spewed more than I told Sam, just things that she used to do to me. I told her about the abuse from the time I was four and finished up, sitting in the parking lot of the prison with Sam not trusting me to be alone with Savannah. I told the entire thing without one tear until the last part.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way.”
“He did, Olivia. There is no doubt in my mind that he did.”
“Come on, let’s go nail this guy’s balls to the wall,” Olivia offered, knowing I needed to get away from this conversation. I was about to add a whole lot more screwed up-ness. It was best to leave the past back there for now.
The realization hit me when I was being patted down and sent through an x-ray machine like they used at the airport. Olivia waited on the other side of the loud, electronic, locking door and I was taken to a room with nine other women there to see their loved ones. We were given a number and directed to a table when we entered the rec room. I wrung my hands, wondering if he would show up. He probably wouldn’t even remember me. And then I worried that he was going to tell me my child would be born without a brain or a heart, or something. I was moving on adrenaline.
I jumped and audibly gasped when the doors made a loud buzzing sound and let us in. We were told to walk single file down the short hall and were led to a cafeteria-like room with bolted down tables and chairs. Two guards stood at the door, acting as chaperones while the women walked to the directed tables. Mine was nineteen and he was there. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the doctor that hurt me. He looked around, gazing right past me, probably wondering who was there to see him.
Pulling myself together as much as possible, I squared my shoulders and walked to him. He looked up, knowing exactly who I was then. I knew he did.
“What do you want?” he asked, when I took a seat across from him.
“I want answers.”
“Well, you gotta ask the questions first,” he smartly replied. “Answers for what?”
“The first thing I want to know is if you have been signing papers for my mother.”
“Do I even know your mother?”
“I have copies with your signature stating that I am mentally incompetent. The last one was dated nine months ago,”
“I don’t know who your mother is. I’m getting paroled in nine months. I don’t want my name mixed up with something like that. I never signed shit for your mom. I forged some for my sister, but that was years ago. If she’s got papers signed with my name, she’s falsifying the dates.”
I stared at his black hair and long sharp nose, remembering that day, before I could ask. “Why did you do it?”
“Do what? I just told you I didn’t do shit.” Dr. Delgado was agitated with me. He was fidgeting in his seat, but I wasn’t sure why.
“You know what I am talking about. I need to know. I need to know what you did. You said I wouldn’t get pregnant. I was twelve. How could you do that?”
“I never said you couldn’t ever get pregnant. How long do you think birth control lasts? That procedure only lasts five to seven years.”
“But is it safe. I’m pregnant. I need to know what to expect.”
“Unless you got fucked up genes, the only thing you need to worry about is bringing the poor thing into a world like this. You’ve been clear to have a baby for years now.”
“Did Adriana know that?”
“No, I figured that was the safest bet for you. You were a kid. I knew by the time you were old enough to start having kids, you would be out of her house, and she wouldn’t care anymore.”
“Did you know what kind of a monster she was?”
The guy before me shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal when he spoke. I wanted to punch him in the face. “I knew. I could tell when I checked you out.”
“Do you have any idea how long I endured that? I was four.”
“Looks like you’ve come out okay.”
“Are you for real?”
“Look, I’m sorry you went through what you did, but I promise you whatever you went through with her, she
went through it ten times fold. Do you even know anything about her? Anything at all? She was five, not four. I was six.”
“What do you mean?”
“We were trying to escape a riot in San Fresze, Honduras. Both our mother and father were gunned down in the streets. We watched them die. Benedict Brannigan adopted us from an orphanage in 1962, two weeks after we were left with no one. He was there on the streets that day. He brought us to your country where everything was better. Mr. Brannigan was married to Pricilla.”
“Wait. You keep saying Brannigan. That’s my father’s name.”
“I know. Shut up and listen, will you?”
I nodded, wondering where this guy was going with this. How did he know my family name? “Benedict was good to both of us, but Adriana was the little girl Priscilla never gave him. Their four boys were teenagers, two were twins, Thomas and Theodore. They were fifteen when Adriana and I came there. Richard was seventeen and Daron was nineteen. Daron just started college when we came there. Adriana moved into his room.”
My heart stopped when I heard my father’s name and that’s when it hit me. My grandmother Priscilla died right before my parents’ divorced. I never knew my grandpa, he died before I was born, but I did know that my father had twin brothers, but I didn’t know their names. He never saw them.
“Priscilla didn’t want to raise more children, especially little Honduras ones. She was happy being the only female in the house. Benedict went from giving her a little attention to none at all. Priscilla resented Adriana, she was the cutest little girl ever, and stole everyone’s heart that came within three feet of her. Benedict loved her with all his heart. He worshiped the ground that little girl walked on. As soon as he entered the door, he would ask where his little princess was, and lavish her in fine gifts. Adriana would cover his face in kisses while Priscilla glared at her from across the room.
“Did Priscilla hurt Adriana?”
“She hurt her pride more than anything, but it was her fault about what started happening to her.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Priscilla took her stepmother job serious. She was the queen of stepmother bitches.”
“I beg to differ,” I admitted but Dr. Delgado continued, ignoring my statement that there was no way, someone could take that title from my own wretched stepmother.
“She started out by blaming her for things she didn’t do, just to punish her in cruel sick ways. It started out with just name calling, and—”
“What’d she call her?” I had to know.
“All kinds of things, but mostly she called her a nasty sewer rat from a disease infested country.” I knew it before I asked. I just wanted to hear it for myself. I nodded and he continued.
“Then she started spanking her, and making a show out of it for the boys, except Daron. He was never there. He was off at school. Then she started pulling her panties down in front of the boys and spanking her. Adriana always begged me to run away with her, but I didn’t know where to run to.”
“Did she do things to her? You know, like Adriana did to me?”
“Not at first, not herself. Her sons did, but she knew about it. She walked in on all three of her teenage sons, holding Adriana down while they did stuff. They wouldn’t let me in. They threatened to beat me up if I opened the door. I was seven, and although I knew something bad was happening, my seven-year-old mind was afraid of getting beat up. I knew from the whimpers behind the door, they were hurting her.
I stood there looking at the door, and listening. I remember being happy for Adriana when Priscilla walked up the steps and down the long hall. She opened the door, turned to look at me, and closed it. She messed up my hair and invited me to the kitchen for cookies, telling me they were just being boys. Priscilla made it a point to spank Adriana in front of the boys from then on out, especially if she caught her giving one ounce of attention to Benedict. The boys hurt her right up until the day Benedict died. As soon as he was buried, Priscilla tossed us both out. We were put into foster care and split up.
“Adriana married my dad out of malicious spite,” I said, placing a piece of puzzle in the hole that I never knew was missing.
“You got it. She had it all planned out. She spent the last of her teenage years, organizing it. We got to see each other down at the welfare department once a week. It was all she talked about. Your mother got in the way first, and then you. Adriana got hired on as a nanny. She knew the twins were both killed in Vietnam in 1975, and Richard married an evangelist. He didn’t believe in money or a career. His only job was to preach the Bible, and that’s what he did. All over the country. Adriana was home free and she was determined to do whatever she had to do to get the Brannigan money. The part she didn’t plan was falling in love with your father.”
“She didn’t have to do it that way. You have no idea how isolated I was.”
“I have a very good idea. Like I said, I’m sure Adriana had worse things done to her.”
“You knew. You’re a doctor. Where was your code of ethics? You were supposed to help me.”
“My hands were tied. My hands have always been tied. Don’t think this didn’t fuck me up, too. I may not have been the one being abused, but I let it happen. I didn’t save her.”
“You were a child. It wasn’t your fault,” I said, feeling sorry for the guy. I was crying. Why was I crying? I had no remorse for Adriana whatsoever. She didn’t have to do that. She could have gotten her revenge another way. Yes, I’m sure she was pretty fucked up after that, I give her that much, but that’s all she’s getting. She deserved something for what she went through. She probably even deserved the Brannigan money, but she didn’t have to sacrifice me. She made that choice.
“That’s why I am telling you this. I was a child. I couldn’t do anything, and you were a child. Break the mold, have your baby, and let it go. Life is like a recipe. You can add as much salt as you want, but you can’t take it out. Stop adding more salt. It’s time to admit that yeah, you had a fucked up life, so did I. At least you can learn from it now and not take the same path I did. Do the right things, and make good choices. Being bitter is a lonely place. Let it go.”
“Is that why you did those things, because she made you? She held it over your head, didn’t she?”
“Yes, and then dangled my tuition-free school above my head when she needed anything.”
“Like a signature stating how bad of a child I was?”
“Yes, that among other things.”
I could only imagine what else Adriana made him do. I’m not sure there was anything she wasn’t capable of, but I didn’t want to know.
“We’re almost out of time. Is there anything else you want to know?” Dr. Delgado asked.
“I don’t think so. Thank you, I think,” I rephrased. The only thing I could be thanking him for was the fact that explained how my hormones probably took a while to catch up with me after not having a period for all those years. He assured me that it also had absolutely nothing to do with carrying a baby. He was surprised I hadn’t gotten pregnant before. Of course, he didn’t know my history of sex with my husband. Who knows maybe Garrison was the one shooting blanks. The only thing that mattered was I was going to have my own baby girl and she would be the only thing I needed to worry about.
Olivia and I spent a couple more days at Garrison’s, preparing everything I needed before confronting my mother. I wanted to be able to walk in to her office and lay it all out for her. She wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. It’s wasn’t hard to prove the motive of my now money hungry bitch of a mother. It was money, of course, the root of all evil and the great temptation that would land her a public crook and a few years behind bars. A federal judge with an extortion and racketeering of other charges I planned to file would render her finished.
Not only would my mother hand over every penny she extorted from me and swindled Garrison to hand over, she would account for each cent she spent. I can assure you it wasn’t on me. The pub
licity alone would ruin her.
I assumed Sam was done, he hadn’t called for two days, and it relieved yet saddened me. I’m glad though. At least I could move on and plan my life with my baby. That excited me. All I had to do was think about me and my little girl and I knew everything would be okay. This trip however left me with a different feeling than when I had visited Dr. Delgado. I didn’t feel the nerves and anxiety the way I had when I went to the prison. This was different, like it was going to be fulfilling.
I laughed with Olivia more than I had in my life while coaching her to be the best damn attorney in all of New York. I didn’t need her, not really, other than wanting to add that explanation mark at the end. The plan was to not file charges at all. I didn’t want to go through the stress of all that, and I sure as hell didn’t want to have to testify, drag Garrison and even Dr. Delgado into the mess, but I would. I would do what I had to do hurt her. Taking her money was the only thing that was going to do that.
Olivia played the part perfectly, well, after a few glasses of wine and about a million takes, that is. I sat at Garrison desk, pretending to be my stuck up mother while she barged in and laid it all out. It took a while, but after a shit load of laughing, and retakes, I was afraid of going up against her in a court of law. She could have easily played the role on Law and Order or something.
Olivia rehearsed her role the entire three-hour drive. Every time she tried to back out, afraid of going to prison herself, I made her do it again. She had it, and there was no reason for her to be nervous.
“I can’t do this,” she whined for the tenth time. “I’m going to get busted. Your mom’s going to know.”
“She’s not going to know. You’ve got this, now stop being a baby. Have I told you how much money we’re talking here? You help me and I promise to make it up to you. You won’t have to worry about living in a house close to your mom. You can live where ever you want.”
“That’s extortion, too, you know?”
“I learned from the best,” I teased.
Sometimes I forgot that Olivia wasn’t well traveled like me. She was mesmerized by the city. I loved seeing the excitement on her face, staring straight up at the tall buildings. At one point, I thought she was going to jump out of the car.