“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Stop doing that, Morgan,” Drew warned, set Nicky on the floor and came to me. “Let me see your phone.”
“Oh, my god, Drew. There’s nothing in my phone. I just want to go hang out with Alicia.”
“Because you don’t like the company here? Give me your phone.”
Slamming my phone to his hand, I glared at him.
“You need to stop.” Drew smirked. “What does this mean? This last message. The eagle has landed? What is that?”
“I don’t know. It’s Alicia. She is probably trying to tell me that Celeste is on her way over and I can come now.”
“Why couldn’t you go before Celeste left?”
“Because I have a ridiculous husband that tells me what I can do. I would have left already if I was allowed,” I smartly replied, forming quotation marks in the air.
“Should I take Nicholas? Marta asked, placing the tray with two cups of coffee on the table. Nicky instantly saw them and went after them. Marta scooped him up and blew raspberries on his belly, causing him to giggle and squirm.
I said no. Drew said yes at the exact same time. “I’m taking him with me,” I assured Drew. Marta didn’t wait for permission. She could feel the tension. Anybody could have felt the tension, it was thick.
“You’re not taking Nicholas. I thought you were going out to lunch. What are you really up to?”
“I am taking Nicholas, we are going to hang around the pool for a while, and then Jackie is going to keep the kids while we go have lunch.”
“No, she’s not. Nicholas can stay right here with me and Marta, and you can leave when I tell you, you can leave.”
“Great, Drew. That’s just great. This is it, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean this is my life. You’re always going to be a controlling idiot, and I just wasted a ton of MY money on Deidra. You’re never going to change, and you know what, Drew? I’m not sure I want to stick around and wait for it not to happen. I’m tired of hoping for an outcome that is so obviously doomed to fail.”
“What does that even mean, Morgan? You’re planning on leaving me? Because I assure you if that is what you’re saying, you’re sadly mistaken. And if you insist on that, you will never see your child again. You got that, Morgan? You will never see Nicholas again. You’re not going anywhere,” Drew vehemently spoke right in my face.
I didn’t even think. It just happened. “Fuck you,” I spit. Literally. I spit right in his eye and then grabbed my own eye when the back of his hand came in contact. I might have deserved that one a little.
“Morgan, I’m sorry,” Drew instantly responded, pulling me to him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. Go to Alicia’s for a while. I’m sorry.”
I wasn’t sure I could go to Alicia’s anymore. Not because of my eye, that didn’t hurt. Something else happened. I’m not sure what it was. I just felt something when Drew hit me, something abnormal. I’m not sure what it was but something just didn’t feel right. I brushed past Drew, grabbed my purse, and tried to keep my eyes focused. The room was a blur and I probably shouldn’t have driven.
Sitting in the car, I looked in the mirror at the puffiness already forming. Shit. Alicia was going to give me her lecture about it, we’d end up arguing, and I would tell her to mind her own business. What the hell was going on? Why was my vision suddenly blurry?
I was okay after a few minutes and drove the short drive over to Alicia’s. Waving at Celeste as we crossed paths, I pulled into the circled drive. I should call Drew. He was probably beside himself. No. No. I wasn’t calling Drew. This was his fault. All I did was tell him I wanted to leave. Well, that spit in his face. Okay, it was a little bit my fault.
Chapter 36
“Hey, I can’t stay. Do you have it?” I asked, looking down at the new tiled floor in the foyer—not because of my new shiner. It was more; I was trying to keep my balance from the blurred room again. I should call Dr. Tharp. Something didn’t feel right.
“What do you mean? I thought we were doing lunch? Where are you going?”
“I’m just not very hungry.”
“Morgan? What the hell? Drew hit you again, didn’t he?” Alicia asked, lifting my chin. Whoa, that was a quick movement. I needed to sit down.
“Don’t, Alicia. Do you have it or not? I’m in a hurry.”
“Hurry for what? What the hell’s going on, Morgan?”
“Nothing. We had a fight. I just want what you have.”
“Are you okay? You look funny?”
“Funny? You mean because I have a blossoming black eye? Give me the damned box or whatever it is. It’s none of your business.”
“Yeah, okay, Morgan. You’re right. It’s none of my business,” Alicia reluctantly agreed, turning away from me. I sat on the bench beside the door. I had to, something wasn’t right.
Looking up, I stood, took the brown taped up envelope, and smiled. “I’m sorry, I’ll call you later,” I apologetically said.
“I’m worried about you. Open it here.”
“No, I’m fine. I promise. I’ll call you later.”
I took my prize, turned on my heels, and got the hell out of there. Sitting in my car, I looked over to the envelope. What was it? I didn’t find out right away. I wanted to get out of there, go somewhere alone. Where was that? Where could I go that I could see what I’d anticipated seeing for months? I couldn’t go where there were people. What if it was something that was going to cause a reaction?
I drove the way Drew wouldn’t want me to go, feeling nauseated. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling sick because something was wrong or if it was nerves. Hoping it was just nerves I shook it off, focusing on the two yellow lines running down the middle of the road while I rubbed the sharp pain in the side of my head with the tips of my fingers. I was going to call Dr. Tharp as soon as I laid this to rest.
I didn’t drive far when the curiosity got the better of me, that and I was having a little bit of double vision. I needed to pull over. I parked in a parking lot of some factory. Employees sat around picnic tables, smoking cigarettes and eating lunch.
I knew, feeling around the envelope that there was another key. Great. If I had to do this again, I’d surely lose my mind. Pulling off the copious amount of tape, I wondered why so much. It wasn’t like someone couldn’t just tear the paper. I blinked trying to clear the focus in my eyes. I blinked again trying to rid the dots and blurriness. I carefully opened the trifold letter with a Desert Springs Hospital header. That was strange. Why would Drew get a bank security box for that? What was it?
Unfolding the sticky note wrapped around the key, I read it first: Downtown store, safe in utility closet.
What did that mean? There was something else at the store downtown? Why wouldn’t he just put it at the bank with this hospital letter?
I screamed, jumping clear out of my skin when someone tapped on my window.
“You can’t park here. We have trucks coming in,” the burley looking man explained.
I started my car and nodded, letting him know that I was leaving.
Hell, I’d already come this far, I may as well go to the strip store and finish it. Drew was probably going to kill me anyway.
I jumped clear out of my seat again when my phone rang. I didn’t answer Drew. I couldn’t. I would lose my nerve if I did. Instead, I turned my phone off, not wanting him to be able to track me, pulled out, and headed to the jewelry store on the strip.
“Hello, Mrs. Kelley. What brings you in today?” one of the well-dressed men asked when I entered. My head hurt and I fought hard to feign a happy smile. It wasn’t a normal headache. The pain was more of a burning sensation right behind my eye.
“Hello, Norman. How are you?” I smiled. He bowed, returning the smile as I made my way back to the office, feigning smiles as I passed the staff in their extravagant work attire.
“Mrs. Kelley, pleasure to see you.” John
athan stood from behind the desk.
“Hello, Johnathan. Do you have the key to the closet here? I just need to pick something up for Drew.”
“Um, Drew didn’t call. What is it?”
“I’m not sure that is your business. No. I know that it’s not.”
“I should call Drew.”
“You should give me the key. You technically work for me, not my husband. If you’d like to continue your employment with Callaway Jewels, you should probably do as I say,” I threatened.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and handed me the key from the top drawer, leaving me alone.
Closing the door, I blinked again. I’m not sure why I kept doing that. It was doing nothing to help my vision. Opening the door to the supply closet, I looked around, spotting the safe in the back of the closest. I inserted the key, gratefully it opened. A small size box with an envelope was all that was there. I retrieved the items and thanked Johnathon on my way out.
I didn’t even remember driving to the cemetery. I sat, parked in the center of the cemetery, trying to recall the direction to Michael’s gravesite. My head was on fire, my vision was blurred, and now I felt like my balance was off. “What the hell am I doing?” I asked myself, walking in the direction I thought was right.
I sat between Michael and Drew’s mother, more out of need than anything. I was going to fall if I didn’t sit down.
I opened the legal envelope first. A handwritten letter? This wasn’t Drew’s writing. If this was some love sick letter from Skyler, I may end up in prison for murder.
Andrew,
Know that I love you, son. I know that when a mother has a child her goal in life is to nurture, protect, and care for that child. I didn’t do that with you. I’m not sure that I ever knew how, Andrew.
“Oh, my god. This is a letter to Drew from his mother,” I said out loud, blinking again. I shouldn’t be reading this. This was personal.
I know that you think I left this world because I couldn’t live without Michael. That wasn’t the case. I did love Michael in my own way, I guess, but it was all for you. I’m sick, Drew. I’ve been sick for a very long time. I don’t want you spending your life, taking care of a mentally ill mother. You deserve better. I knew Michael would leave you everything. You deserve everything. There is something else that I need for you to know about me, something that shames me too much to live with for one more day.
I knew, Andrew, I knew. What kind of mother does that make me? It makes me the kind of mother that doesn’t deserve to breathe. I should have done something. I should have run away with you.. I knew what he was forcing you to do, Andrew. I knew, and I didn’t stop it. Why didn’t I stop it? I have no excuse for that. I let Michael brainwash me. The first time I found the photos, Michael laughed and told me he was teaching you how to be a man, and do what needed to be done to get what you wanted.
I didn’t understand that. He was hurting you. I saw it with my own eyes. I believed him when he told me that you liked it, and that he would never hurt you. He told me that he was teaching you everything you needed to know to takeover once the time came. I knew it was wrong, Andrew. I knew it and I let it happen. You were just a small boy, and the hollow look in your eyes in the photos that I saw, I knew it was wrong and should have been enough to die for you. I’m dying for you now son. I’m dying because I want you to live. I’m dying because you deserve that. Michael is dying because you deserve to live.
“Uh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
He was going to die anyway, right? I only helped him. I knew there would be no autopsy, and if there was, I’d be gone too. The man had cancer, he was sick, and was a very easy target. Had he not been such an ass and let the doctors and nurses do their job, he may have conquered the cancer. He got sicker and sicker because of me and because of an episode of Law and Order. Ethylene glycol, poisoning. It’s a toxic, colorless, odorless, almost nonvolatile liquid with a sweet taste, known to be lethal to humans.
It was easy to stir in a teaspoon into his hot tea, here and there. It was easy to keep the contents of the antifreeze hidden in a shampoo bottle. Thirty two ounces, Andrew. That’s what it took. I should have felt bad, watching him vomit green bile. I never felt bad, not once did I feel bad witnessing Michael convulse, vomit, and be so weak that, he couldn’t hold his head up. I remember laughing hysterically the first time he soiled his pants. The nurse made me leave, I was laughing so hard.
He’s never going to hurt you again, Andrew. I am never going to hurt you again.
Oh, my god. Drew’s mom killed Michael. She killed him and herself for Drew. What photos? What did that mean? I needed to see for myself. I didn’t want Drew seeing something that was going to set us back further than we already were. I had a pretty good hunch as to what it was, but I needed to see. I’d destroy them myself
I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry for the life I let you live, and I am sorry for not protecting you. Be happy son, live life in love. You have more than enough money to walk away and enjoy it. Don’t get consumed the way the Callaways did. There’s more to life than money, and I am sorry for not finding this out before I sacrificed us both. Once you have seen the horrific evidence of why you deserve everything you have, destroy it, and never look back.
I love you, Andrew, don’t hurt for me. I’m okay now.
Until we meet again…..
Mom.
You’re okay, Morgan. Get this over with, put it behind you, and move on. I pep talked myself. Opening the box, I removed a pink, satin hanky. It still had a lingering perfume smell.
I didn’t even gasp at the surprise. It was exactly what I thought it was. Drew was so little, and I could see the hollow look that his mother spoke of.
“Excuse me,” I spoke to a young boy, consoling a crying girl. He had a cigarette between his lips. I knew he had matches. “Do you have a light?”
“Keep it,” he said, tossing me a bright yellow lighter, walking his crying girl away.
I flipped through the photos of Drew growing up, abused. The first picture I set on fire above Michael’s grave, it was Drew bent over the same desk that I’d been bent over many times. His small butt bore bright red lines.
“This is for you, fuck face,” I audibly spoke, dropping the burning photo to the grave. One by one, I watched the photos of a lost little boy burn in flames, all the way through his teenage years. Drew lied. Michael did way more than fondle an innocent boy; these were repulsive pornographic pictures. Not one of the pictures showed Michael’s face, only Drew’s. The pictures only displayed Michael from the waist down.
I was appalled and stopped looking, placing the photos on my self-made fire. I couldn’t stand to look at one more thing my husband endured from this man, horrific things that no child should know about.
Once the last photo was up in flames, I picked up the envelope. This time I did gasp, unfolding the paper with the hospital header. “Paternity Test,” I read out loud. What the hell was this? Did Drew have another child somewhere too? Nicholas Andrew Kelley, I read. That’s when I felt faint. The test results were inconclusive and would need to be retaken.
This didn’t make since. I saw those test. I saw that Drew was 99.9% the father. Why would he have an inconclusive test locked up in a bank? That was a dumb question. He didn’t want me to ever find it. Did Drew pay for a bogus test? No, he wouldn’t do that. Would he? Yes, Drew would do that. I knew he would. But would he do it knowing there was a fifty percent chance of him raising another man’s child?
I was suddenly furious. This was the last straw and I was getting to the bottom of it; the lies, every last one of them were coming out. Oh, my god. What if Nicholas wasn’t Drew’s at all. What if he was Dawson’s? We would never survive that. I was sure of it.
“Hey, you can’t have a fire here,” I heard a male voice say. Looking at the smoldering photos turned to ash, I felt the tears run down my cheek. Wiping it away and feeling the soreness from Drew’s hand, I looked at my fingers, puzzled. I was c
rying blood? That didn’t make sense. I stood to leave and that was the last thing I remembered.
***
I couldn’t see. Why couldn’t I see? Where was I? I could hear voices. I could see a bright florescent light but something was covering my eyes. Was I in a coma again? Nicholas? Oh my god, where was Nicholas. Did he wreck with me. Wait. Was I in a wreck? What the hell was going on? Why couldn’t I see? How long have I been out? Nicolas wouldn’t know who I was after five weeks again. Who was talking? I had so many questions going through my mind, questions that I wanted answers to. Where was Drew? Where the hell was I? I wondered as I drifted back into darkness.
“Drew,” I croaked the next time I woke or tried to wake. I still couldn’t see and had no idea how long I’d been out.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” I heard the music to my ears. Drew took my hand, comforting me with his warm touch.
“What happened, Drew?”
“You’re okay now. You’re going to be just fine.”
“Where is Nicky?”
“He’s with Marta. He’s fine.”
“How long have I been here?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer. I couldn’t handle knowing that I was away from my son for five weeks.
“Around twelve hours.”
Drew explained to me that I’d had a bleed in my brain and had to be rushed into surgery. The doctor said that it had been bleeding for a while and could have gotten worse due to a sudden jar, or even a light bump. We both knew what the jar was, although neither of us would mention it.
I spent three days in total darkness, afraid that once the bandages came off I’d be blind. The doctor assured me that I wouldn’t, but I was still scared. I couldn’t wait until that evening when he removed them. I wanted to see Drew and my baby. Somebody had to bring me my baby.
I slept, resting in total darkness for I’m not sure how long. I was woken up by familiar voices. Who was there? It was Drew, I knew that much, but who was the female. Why was I having such a hard time waking up? Deidra! It was Deidra. She was mad. What was she saying? I squinted my eyes as much as possible, trying to concentrate on the conversation.