Diary of a Black Widow
Quick note: Dear gentle, #Steemit readers, this is a fictional story. I must confess that I personally have never truly enjoyed reading anything written in the first person. While I have no problem writing in the first person when they are my personal experiences, this is my first attempt at writing fiction this way.
I also want to note that this is not a happy tale. It has strong language, violence and sexual violence...and while I know the difference between reality and fiction, getting into Lainey's head to tell her story before transitioning to her mother's story has probably been one of the most difficult pieces of writing I've ever had to do on an emotional scale. I am committed to writing this and I hope you enjoy the journey.
Please be aware that this is a rough draft, original work which I hope to compile, edit, and publish later on down the road. All rights reserved. Thanks! ~ Meredith
Chapter 2
"I don't think I can go in there right now."
"You don't have to...but you're going to eventually. Why not just get it over with? I'm here if you need me."
"It's not..." Elaine tried to gather her thoughts. "It's just that everything I know about my mother is completely wrong. I've got nothing but wonderful memories in this house, but at what cost to mom?"
Jimmy took the large manilla sleeve containing mom's autopsy x-rays. Stepping in front of me, his large, tall frame effectively hid the house from my view. I couldn't help stare straight into his chest because I couldn't quite accept the compassion and care in his eyes. He gently traced the yellow and green bruise around my eye, which had finally begun to heal. "I'll go inside with you and make a fresh pot of coffee. Before we do anything, you are going to tell me what the doctors told you and just get it out of your system, okay?"
It was an order of the gentlest kind; not a demand, like my husband usually gives before he hurts me.
"Look at me, Lainey." He nudged my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. His lips twitched in an attempt to hide a grin. "I'll catch you."
Dammit! I tried not to grin back. How many times through our childhood and into our teen years has he said that to me? And every single time we got into some kind of trouble - like the one time he encouraged me to get on the cliff-side swing rope and drop about 20 feet into the water below. He was treading water and knew I wasn't a strong swimmer, but the idiot stayed there and waited for me as I landed right on top of him, nearly drowning us both. Or the time when he dared me to climb the stupid tree in our back yard and couldn't get back down... So many ridiculous memories from good days.
My temporary sense of ease disappeared with the shrill ring of the telephone. I knew it was Brian on the line.
"Jimmy...don't!"
"Reynold's residence." I could see the tick at his jaw as he grit his teeth while struggling to remain civil on the phone.
I still hadn't crossed the threshold of mom's house, but I could hear Brian's voice on the other line. "Who the hell is this?"
"A friend of the Reynold's family. Who is this, please?" His voice remained calm, but his eyes were steely. I saw his knuckles turn red and felt danger. Oh yeah, I learned to read the signs. White knuckles usually meant an argument and maybe get slapped around a little. Red knuckles meant rage and fists.
*"You put that bitch whore on the phone right now. I know she's there. You fucking her? Is that why she didn't answer?"
"Sir, you've obviously got the wrong number."
"Hey, asshole. Put Elaine on the phone now or so help me god I'm..."
I didn't realize until the line went dead that I had pulled the line from the phone. Jimmy turned to me and I flinched waiting for the backhand. His face went from murderous to horror as I instinctively stepped away from him. Dropping the receiver, he gathered me up into his strong arms and just held me.
He hushed and soothed, but my entire body quaked. I felt his warm breath in my ear. "Lainey, no. Shh... I would never lay a hand on you, sweetheart."
"He'll kill us, you know. He'll kill us both. He's crazy like that."
"Let's just concentrate on fixing a pot of coffee and talk about what the doctor said about Mama Rey, okay?"
Sitting at the kitchen table with a hot cup held tight between my hands, I couldn't help feeling nervous as I checked the time then glanced out the street-side window. If Brian was coming, he'd probably drive hellbent to get here, which would take him about two hours. Jimmy had spread mom's x-rays across the white counters, holding each one up to the flourescent lights to get a better look.
"The doctor said from the looks of those, she had been severely abused. Five broken ribs, multiple fractures on her arms. He said both shoulders looked like they had rotater cuff damage beyond 'normal wear and tear', and multiple hairline fractures on her skull, possibly from concussions, and her leg was broke at least once." Jimmy whistled low as he traced every unnatural line on the film.
"It doesn't make sense, Lainey. I came by nearly every day and she was always okay. I never saw her fall or lose her balance. She never showed any signs of physical pain like that. What else did the doctor say?"
I shook my head and took another sip of coffee. "He said without really knowing her history, he could only presume that those were from decades of abuse. Decades." Jimmy looked right at me. No... He looked at my healing eye, but I stared him down, daring him to say out loud what I was already thinking. The apple may not fall that far from the tree after all. I was relieved when he didn't say anything. "He also said some of them where from her youth."
"I can't imagine your dad ever laying a finger on her. He practically worshipped the ground she walked on."
"I don't know. Daddy's been gone for five years now. I know they got married in their late 30s and I was kind of their miracle child a couple years later. But who knows what they went through before I was old enough to remember anything. He could have been a heavy drinker or..."
"No." Jimmy interrupted. "There is no way your dad ever laid a finger on her. People like that don't change, Lainey."
His words were like a soothing balm to my heart. I wanted to believe that my father was a good man. I had to believe it.
"Was there anything else the doctor said?"
"No..." I clasped my hands in front of my mouth wondering if I should share the last phone call I got from my mother on the day she died. "It's just that... Do you know anyone named Hannah?"
"Hannah? No. Not anyone in the neighborhood. Why?"
"One of the last things mom said to me was 'Hannah will take care of you' and I've never heard of her before. I thought I knew her, Jim." Spreading my arms to encompass the room I realized, "I didn't know her at all. Why wouldn't she tell me any of this? Why didn't I know?"
"Hey, hey, hey... Listen to me. We don't ever really know someone beyond what they want us to know. We grew up together and I can tell you Mama Rey was happy and she loved you and your dad. I've seen her angry before, but the woman never flinched at a thing. She was the strongest woman I've ever known...next to you."
"Ha!" I barked. I couldn't bring myself to look in Jimmy's sincere eyes. I felt like a lost child. A loser. And with his words, I felt like a phony. "I'm not strong at all."
He gently lifted my chin; his face so close to mine. I could feel my heart slow to a hard, steady beat. "You are stronger than you know." And then he kissed me. His lips were so soft and warm against mine and as a felt a rush of heat run through my body, he deepened the kiss and I let him, escaping for a brief moment to kiss him back before reality struck me like an ice bucket over the head. I'm not sure if I pushed him away or stepped back. My legs were shaking and I felt a little unsteady on my feet. "I think you should go."
"Lainey..."
My fingertips touched his soft mouth effectively quieting him. The hurt (or was it regret?) clear in his eyes.
"I think I need some time alone. Don't say anything. Please. Just...go."
He took a breath to argue, but his shoulders fell in silent defeat. With a quick nod, he walked past me and I knew I was alone when I heard the distinct sound of the door closing behind him.
My body still vibrated as I stood there with my eyes closed, touching my lips still moist from the sweetest kiss I've ever had - and regretting the new knowledge that one could be so gentle. I had forgotten how tender it could be but nearly ten years since I've had any real kindness from a man.
For a moment, I thought about keeping the house; leave Brian and stay here in my childhood home. But here I am standing in my mother's kitchen, the echoes of laughter and joy long gone and I knew that coming back here would be like taking a step back somehow. No. I needed to move forward and as heavy as it made my heart feel, I knew I was going to put the house on the market as soon as mom's estate was in order. With that it mind, it was time to sort through her things. Working from the top down seemed to be the most logical way to go.
I threw the deadlock on the front door and headed up the stairs to the second story. I wasn't ready to walk through the bedrooms quite yet, so I reached for the pull string revealing the stairs to the attic; the one place I was never allowed to venture in my youth. I'm just working from the top down.
I was surprised that the incandecent light still worked in the dust-filled attic. It wasn't as musty or smelly as I had envisioned it to be. Everything seemed to be perfectly placed in some kind of order. All the boxes were labeled: Elaine's baby clothes newborn to 4T; books; china... But something caught my eye. Just past the entry to the attic was an ancient looking leather travel trunk. It wasn't that it was odd being up here. What caught my attention was the fact that the leather had been treated and was in magnificent shape; the brown was almost a deep sable...and it was the only thing up here that didn't have about 40 years of dust on it.
My curiosity got the best of me, so on hands and knees, I crawled to it like a mosquito to a blue light. My hands caressed the softness of the leather. To my dismay, I realized it was sealed tight with a strange looking lock. I wanted to get in there but at no point in time was I going to break it. The lock appeared to be made of brass or something, with intricate engraving and inlays. I wondered how much a locksmith might charge me to get it opened. It was getting hot up here and I desperately wanted a cigarette. So carefully grabbing the trunk, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen and set it in the center of the dining table. That's when I felt mom's pendant jab me as it caught on the edge of my bra. Could it be?
Taking the chain from my neck, I looked at the strange skeleton key. It too was brass colored, but not as shiny as the lock; probably from years of being worn next to her heart.
My hands shook with anticipation and I felt like I'd won an award when the key slipped unabetted into the lock. With a half turn, I heard it give way with a solid clunk. Carefully putting the lock and key aside, I reverently opened the trunk to reveal its contents.
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Meredith Loughran blogs at ScribblingBandits.com | Follow her on Twitter & SnapChat or LinkedIn
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