Fractured Secrets, page 11
“What am I going to do?”
Chapter Two
Dan
HE DROVE THROUGH the crowded parking lot tempted to plow through the Saturday morning shoppers who dawdled into his path, oblivious to his presence as they enjoyed the unseasonable warmth. The sun beat down on the top of his head.
“Where the hell are you?” he mumbled and maneuvered the car up another row. He pulled the convertible into an empty space. A group of teenage girls strolled by and waved.
“Nice car,” a ponytailed blonde called out and giggled.
Dan’s cheeks burned from the female attention.
“There you are,” a voice called out from behind the car. He cringed at the shrill, high-pitched tone. “It’s about damn time you showed up.”
“Hello to you too, Auntie,” he said in his nicest, fakest, voice.
“Hmpf,” she snorted as she plopped her hulking frame into the passenger’s seat. “Why must you insist on driving this thing? And, with the top down no less.”
“Because it’s a beautiful day and vitamin D is good for you.”
“If I get skin cancer it’ll be your fault.”
He rolled his eyes. I should be so lucky. “Yes, Auntie, I know.” His desire to live kept him from voicing his professional, medical, opinion that the sun’s rays had a zero percent chance of penetrating the layers of makeup slathered on her face.
“Like you give a shit,” she said, and buckled the seat belt around a protruding stomach that even the most durable of spandex underwear had little hope of containing. “All you care about is yourself. So selfish. Put the goddamn top up before we leave. My hair will be an absolute disaster if not.”
He glanced over at the curls plastered atop her head. It would require the assistance of hurricane force winds to move even a single strand of the over sprayed coif. “Fine,” he said under his breath, already exhausted by her nagging.
He pressed the button and waited for the car’s automated top to enclose the cab. He caught a glimpse of Auntie out of the corner of his eye as she utilized the time, and the car’s side mirror, to check her makeup and reapply her lipstick. He shook his head. Dear lord, what a loon.
“Really? Do you really need more lipstick for the five-minute ride to your house?”
“Just shut up and drive already,” she snapped.
Dan’s fingers curled around the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening beneath the pressure. “Right away, Auntie,” he hissed, and stomped on the accelerator.
“Hey!” she cried. Her back slammed against the seat as her hand slipped, leaving behind a zigzagged streak of red lipstick up and over her left cheek, in its wake.
Dan grinned. God, I love this car.
The Mustang rumbled into Auntie’s garage. Dan released a sigh, relieved he avoided seeing anyone he knew along the route.
“You just gonna sit there daydreaming all day like a retard or what?” Auntie said.
His short nails dug into the steering wheel, leaving crescent- shaped indents in the leather. “No, Auntie,” he said through gritted teeth.
He stepped into Auntie’s kitchen and winced at the virtual time- warp back to the 1970s. Dan squinted against the sea of avocado appliances and tangerine wallpaper. I despise this place. He glanced over at the two women in his life and frowned. Auntie shuffled past, her big feet scuffing against the linoleum, and the kitschy décor did not seem out of place. Both are hideous.
“We have a plan to help you,” Auntie said and sat down at the table beside Dan’s mother. The clear plastic seat cover crunched beneath her weight.
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this one,” he said and leaned against the world’s ugliest green refrigerator.
“It’s brilliant,” his mother said and smiled. “I’m going to pay Jack a visit.”
“You’re what? Are you mad?” He ran his hands through his hair. “Of course, you are. You’re both insane.” He shook his head. “How exactly will your visiting Jack help me?”
“I’m going to have a chat with him and try to find out how that bitch of a wife of his is dealing with the stress of Dr. Z.” She swirled a tea bag around in her cup. “You know, wouldn’t it be magnificent if she had an accident?”
“I think it’d be wonderful,” Auntie said and patted his mother’s hand. “I can imagine it crystal clear.”
“What? No! This was not part of the plan. I’m a doctor for god’s sake. I’m not going to hurt anyone. I heal people, not hurt them and I’m not going to let you hurt Sophie, or anyone. The plan is to scare her, that’s it.”
“Well, sometimes plans change.”
“Not this one, Mother. So, help me, if you.”
“You’d choose her over your own mother?” Auntie butted in.
Dan tossed his fisted hands in the air. Give me strength. “I’m not choosing anyone except me. I’m choosing to remain a free man, Auntie. I’m not going to jail. Not for you, or her,” he said and nodded towards his mother. “Leave me out of your sick plans from now on.”
“Then don’t help us,” his mother said. Her bottom lip pouted in and out like a petulant child denied a lollipop. “I don’t need you, never did.” She drowned the tea bag into the bottom of her cup with her finger. “You never loved me.”
“There, there, don’t let him upset you. We don’t need him. I’ll help you,” Auntie said and glared up at him.
He narrowed his eyes at the sisters. Psychotic, both of you. “Why? What’s in it for you, Auntie?”
“Is it so hard to fathom that I just want to help?”
“Yes, yes it’s impossible to believe.”
“Well, I don’t need either of you to help me,” his mother interjected. “Not to brag, but once I remind Jack of how great I am in bed he’ll be on his knees begging for me to take him back.”
“Ugh, gross, spare me alright. I don’t want to hear about your sex life,” Dan said and stared down at the faded yellow linoleum floor, unable to look at her, desperate to block the inappropriate images of his mother from forming in his brain.
“And once Jack remembers he loves me he’ll dump that mousy bitch,” his mother continued, oblivious to Dan’s discomfort.
He glanced up and over at his mother’s blue eyes. He recognized the glazed far, far away fairytale look; witnessed it too many times over the years. She stared off in the distance—at nothing—consumed by her private fantasy world.
“Great.” He slapped his thighs. “She’s gone off the rails. Prepare for impact. Here comes the Crazy Express.”
“Shut up!” Auntie snapped.
“Good God, Auntie. Can’t you see it? She’s insane. Nuts. Cuckoo. I can’t believe they let her out. She’s delusional,” he said. “Hell, you both are.”
“Don’t you dare disrespect your mother, or me, like that. You’re just like your father, so selfish, such an arrogant asshole.”
He rubbed his hands over his thighs. The coarse denim of his jeans further ignited the heat in his palms—heat that boiled beneath his flesh—beneath his mask.
“I couldn’t tell you, Auntie, now can I since I don’t know him. Not really. All I have are the bullshit stories you’ve both spewed all my life.”
“He used to be wonderful, until that bitch sank her claws into him and twisted his mind against me, against you,” his mother whined.
Dan walked across the kitchen. “From what I hear, Jack loves his wife.”
“That’s a lie! He loves me.”
Dan slammed the palms of his hands on the sticky tabletop, leaned across the table, and stared Auntie in the eyes. “Do you hear her, Auntie? She’s living in a fantasy world. And you’re enabling her. If you don’t stop and reel her back into reality, she’s going to end up back in a padded room.”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Get out of my house. We don’t want you here.”
Dan leaned towards his mother, trying to make eye contact with her. “You need to get a grip, Mother,” he said, his voice low and measured, in the same tone he used with pediatric patients. “You need to let go of Jack. It’s not healthy for you. You can’t make someone love you.” Believe me, I know.
His mother jumped up from her chair, her eyes wild with anger. “You bastard. You take that back. Do you hear me? Jack loves me.” She yanked clumps of her hair in her fists. “Do you hear me? He loves me. We’re going to be together, forever, once that controlling bitch is out of the picture.”
He sighed. “I hate to be the bearer of sanity, Mother, but God knows someone needs to be of sound mind in this house. He doesn’t love you. He never did and never will. You were an easy lay during a drunken college stupor. He tossed you away like yesterday’s used cat litter. Get a clue. He’s married. You need to get a life and move on already.”
“Y-y-you’re—you’re evil,” she cried. Her fisted hands morphed into claws. She poised them in the air, lunged at his face, ready to scratch out his eyes. Auntie grabbed her from behind and restrained her arms.
“Get out! Get out of my house, you bastard!” Auntie screamed at him. “She wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for you. I wish you were never born.”
“Yeah, you and me both, Auntie,” he said, and headed for the garage.
He heard Auntie’s soft coos as she tried to talk his mother back to some semblance of reality. Dan glanced over his shoulder. Auntie stroked his mother’s hair and whispered into her ear like a mother does with a child. Auntie’s head shot up. Her cold, dark eyes locked with his. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled. He had gone toe- to-toe in the E.R. with psychotic drug addicts in fits of rage whose eyes possessed more compassion than what he saw in hers.
“Stay…away…from…her,” Auntie said.
“With pleasure.” He stormed out. “I hope I never lay eyes on either one of you ever again.”
He backed out of the garage, caught his reflection in his rearview mirror, and slammed his foot on the brake. He stared at his rugged face. At the bastard in the mirror. I’m so sick of being the bastard. So sick of them. The intelligent blue eyes looking back at him said something different. Hold your head up, Dan, his reflection said.
He glanced back at Auntie’s house. His parentage could not, would not, define him. He alone determined his future. I’m never coming back. I refuse to be the bastard.
“I’m done. I have no family. They’re dead to me, now and forever,” he vowed.
He took his foot off the brake and pulled onto the street. He left behind the baggage that held him hostage his entire life—flushed them from his heart with the ease of flushing a steaming pile of shit down the toilet—as he drove away. It’s time I live my own life, not theirs.
Chapter Three
Sophie
JACK CLOSED THE door. “Hiya, Lucas.”
Sophie clenched her jaw. Jack’s happy carefree voice grated on her nerves. “You bastard. You lying, deceitful bastard. How dare you be happy,” she whispered to herself.
“Soph, I’m home,” Jack called out.
She didn’t respond, glad she hadn’t apologized. Lying, cheating bastard. She curled her fingers into tight fists and forced Psycho Sophie back into the padded room in the dark recesses of her mind. Not for Jack, for me. She needed to keep her shit together and her brain focused. Images of the box on her kitchen table taunted her. She dug her nails deeper into the palms of her hands. She welcomed the sharp pain. She needed the pain to focus. Dr. Z. isn’t going away and neither are Jack’s mounting lies. She understood that both could destroy her world and one, Dr. Z., posed a mortal threat.
Jack’s heavy footsteps clumped up the stairs. The hallway floor creaked. He’s close. He’s coming. Sophie’s spine stiffened. She did not move. It wasn’t difficult to accomplish. She did not think she could move even if she wanted to. Her limbs, numb, tingling, and paralyzed from grief and betrayal, were unresponsive to her commands.
“Soph, you in here?”
Jack entered their bedroom and turned on the light. Sophie snapped her eyes closed as the light flooded the room and leaked into the walk-in closet. You bastard. All these years. All the lies. Our marriage. My entire life. All lies. She bit her lip and tasted the sweet tang of blood on her tongue.
“Soph, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Jack said in a hushed tone. She watched his body fill the doorway of the closet. “Hey, Hon, why are you sitting in the closet? In the dark?”
She pushed her back harder against the wall. “Turn-on-the-light- Jack,” she said, using every ounce of strength to keep her voice even and monotone. Let me see your face. I need to see your face when you discover I know the truth.
The click of the switch echoed inside the closet. Jack’s face travelled from concern to shock to horror to agony as he looked down at her. He stared at her, sitting on the floor of their walk-in closet. His eyes bounced from her face, to the slips of paper from the package surrounding her, to the blue birth announcement on her lap. His eyes widened. His hands flew to his cheeks and pulled down on his skin, distorting his flesh like melting wax, as he sank to his knees.
“Soph,” he whispered.
“Did you ever love me, Jack?”
“Where did you get these?” he asked as he picked up a receipt.
Something inside her snapped. “That’s all you have to say to me?” she screamed. “You, lying, cheating piece of shit! You find me surrounded by canceled child support checks and a birth announcement for your secret bastard, your son, and the first thing you say is where did I get them? No sorry? No explanation?”
“Sophie, it’s not what you think. I—"
“Not what I think?” She laughed. Tears streamed down her face and stung her cheeks, cheeks raw from hours of crying in the dark. “You can’t talk your way out of this one. They’re from your bank account. In your handwriting. All the years when we were so poor. It was because you were taking money from our family to give to this…this…whore, Rhonda, and her bastard son. Oh, and nice name, Jack. Daniel, eh? Did you tell her that was the name we’d picked out if we had a boy? What were you going to do if Maddie was a boy? Couldn’t use Daniel Jackson, now could you? Couldn’t have two sons with your name? I bet you were relieved Maddie was a girl. Lucked out of dealing with that problem, right, Jack?” She grabbed a handful of the checks and threw them in his face. “Every fucking one—yours—your signature. You piece of shit. I hate you!”
“Let me explain, Soph. I love you. I didn’t want to hurt you—"
“Too late. Get out!”
“Wait, Soph—"
“I’m done, Jack. We’re done. No more. I want you to grab all your shit and, just, just get…the…fuck…out…of…my…house…out…of…my…life.”
“Soph, please don’t do this. Let me explain. I love you. I always have.”
She glared at him, slumped on the floor, covered in the canceled checks, tears overflowing from his dark eyes. Not this time.
“I hate you, Jack. Get out, or I will. Oh, and you can stop with the crocodile tears. It’s not going to work this time.”
“You’re not even going to listen to me? Let me explain? You’re just going to throw everything we have away?”
“Ha! We don’t have anything left to throw away. You destroyed everything. The Mustang, the gambling and embezzlement, and now…now, this.” She shook her head. “No, it’s done. I’ve heard enough of your lies. I’ve seen all the proof I need to hate you forever.” Keep it together. Be tough. Don’t let your heart fall for his bullshit.
She stood up. Her legs buckled. She grabbed the shelf to keep from falling, ignoring the aches and stabbing pins and needles that pulsed through her legs, feet, and toes, ignoring the stiffness in her muscles, cramped from sitting on the floor for hours, and glared at him.
“Who’s leaving, Jack? You or me?”
“Is that really what you want, Soph?” he whispered.
“Yes, I packed a bag for you. It’s in the laundry room.”
She stared into his sad brown eyes; eyes sadder than the day they buried his mother and brother after the drunk driver took their lives, and sadder than when they buried his father, after cirrhosis consumed his liver and grief consumed his heart, five years later. Don’t crack now, Sophie. He’s a liar and a cheat. He’s been hiding his secret son from you all these years, her brain reminded her.
“I know you don’t believe me right now, Sophie, but I do love you. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, will love. I’m sorry. I’ll go. When you’re ready to hear my side, I’ll be at Kyle’s.”
“Don’t hold your breath. I know the story.”
“I love you, Soph. Forgive me…please.”
Sophie turned her back on him and closed her eyes. “Goodbye, Jack.”
He sighed and left the closet. She listened to his footsteps on the stairs and heard the back door slam. She tossed her body onto a pile of clothes on the floor and wept. Jack’s gone. He’s really gone. I’m all alone.
Chapter Four
Dan
“DOC Z., EVERYTHING okay? You look a little down,” Nurse Janie said and made herself comfortable in the empty chair across the table from him.
“I’m good. Fine, just have some things on my mind,” Dan replied.
“Well, I know how to get your mind off your problems.”
She leaned towards him and rewarded his eyes with a prime view of her cleavage. I’m sure you do. He raised a brow.
“Oh, yeah?”
“You need some fun—a night out. Come out with me and leave all your doctor worries behind for a while.” Okay, I’ll play along.
