Broken Heart (Broken Heart #1) (5 page)

“All these years, I thought…I was the reason he hated my mother. I thought he didn’t want to have any kids. I thought maybe he wanted a boy.” My heart was crushed. I felt confused, and I could feel the bulge in my throat choking me. 

“That bastard hated himself. His father was a Christian man whose life revolved around God and the demon that lived inside of him. He was a worse drunk than Bobby… and beat him every day.”

He shook his head as he fumbled with his pen. The look on his face gave away that he felt sort of sorry for my father.

“I think that’s why she stood with him all of these years. She wanted to protect him at all costs. She knew there was a nice guy somewhere deep down inside his tortured soul. She just rarely saw that part of him, but when he did show her he loved her, she was the only person he cared about in

the world, and that’s how he got her. That’s how…he manipulated her.” He looked up at me, studying me closely with his eyes and waiting for the next question to spew out of my mouth.

“I wish I would’ve known this about my father. It would have saved me years of hating his guts,” I said, shocked as I lowered my head in thought staring at my hands that were clenched together

on my lap. I felt so guilty that I hated him so much. I wanted to forgive him, but my heart didn’t let me.

“You know, Jenesis, your father did love her, somewhere, deep down inside,” he said sympathetically.

“Yeah, well, it must’ve been really deep. If he did, he sure had a funny way of showing it.” I looked up at him ready to let go of the lump in my throat and burst into tears.

“Did he…ever…you know?” he asked curiously.

“Hit me? No…and yes…he never hit me…I mean, only a couple of times…but he killed me inside…beating her every day in front of me. You know, I can’t remember a day he didn’t hit her.

I have nightmares every night…sometimes even during the day,” I said letting go of the lump and sobbing into my hands. Uncle Mike stood up and walked towards me.

“Jenesis, come here,” he said as he held me around my shoulders and placed his chin on the top of my head.

I held him tightly and squeezed him around his waist. Then I stood up reaching for his collar and pulled tightly because I wanted to scream and lose my mind.

“Look, we can go over the policy tomorrow, if you’d like?” he whispered in my hair then sat me down on the kitchen chair. He kneeled in front of me, lifting my chin to face him.

“No, I’m fine. Really… Let’s just get this over with.” I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. Uncle Mike reached for a paper towel and ran it under cold water.

“Here, clean your face,” he said as he handed me the soaked paper towel. 

I wiped my cheeks that were buried under the mascara from last night that ran down my face from crying so much. My stomach was twisting and turning, and I got up abruptly to walk around.

I was wondering how Uncle Mike got the insurance policy. I thought I was the only person who knew where she kept her important papers. I wasn’t sure if she left it in the same place as when I

was a little girl. They were there for years in the same place. She had always told me when I was a little girl, “Jenesis, in the garage behind your father’s tool cabinet, is a tin box that has a

combination lock on it. If something were to ever happen to me, all of the paperwork to the house, insurance policies, and other important papers are in there. You have to memorize the numbers or

hide them in your room where nobody can find them. Now, show Mommy where it is. Hurry.” Then I would take her hand and show her, she would give me a hug, and say, “Good girl, that’s

my girl.” I still remember where I had hidden the numbers. They were in my purple pillowcase on my bed. 

“Uncle Mike, how did you know where to find the papers?” My question seemed more like an interrogation, but I didn’t care. I needed to know how he knew. 

“You and I were the only two people she told.” He smiled as if he remembered her face.

“Really? And here I thought I was special. Why you?”

“You are special. We were very close, your mother and I. Many times your mother went to church on Sundays and then we met at my house to talk. I knew everything that happened to your mother,

and even though I offered my support and advice to leave that son of a bitch…she never did. I was the only person besides you she could trust.” 

“Did you guys…you know…have an affair?”

“Jenesis! For God’s sake…I know you’re not asking me that question. How could you? I loved your mother but not like that!” His face was stressed, and the look of disappointment in his eyes

made me feel guilty. “Let’s go over this paperwork. I have to leave soon. Your mother had a great insurance policy. She left you $250,000 and the deed to the house.

Sit…sit.” He shook his head repeatedly and even laughed at my crazy insinuation of an affair. He opened his brief case again and took out a stack of papers. We sat and reviewed the policy, and I still sat in disbelief. This is crazy…so crazy.

“The insurance check will be made out to you. We can pick it up together at their office.” He stood up and started to pack his things.

“How long?”

“Two days, I pushed them a little. I know you don’t want to hang out in the house too long. I know I wouldn’t. What do you plan to do?”

“Put the house up for sale…pay off my student loans at Penn State…and move.”

“Move? Why? I mean, I’m sorry to see you have to leave like this.” He gave me a quizzical look.

“Thanks, but I have to move on. She would have wanted that.” I wanted to stand, but I sat patiently waiting for him to stop asking me questions.

“Just don’t quit Penn State. You only have six months left. That doesn’t make any sense. Make the best out of it. Make her proud.” He kissed my forehead and started heading for the door.

“Uncle Mike, I was thinking maybe you could help me find a place in New

York,” I said as I stood up and followed him towards the door.

“New York? Why do you want to live there?” A perplexed look shifted over his face. 

“I need to start my life over; staying here will only stop me from growing,” I said trying to convince myself.

“I don’t know, Jenesis, that’s a big move, and New York has a bad rep. something bad can happen to you out there, besides no one’s there to help you. At least here you have your aunt and your

cousins,” he said as he frowned at me. His mouth tightly shut then he bit his bottom lip apprehensively.

“Isn’t Dr. Joe practicing in New York now? He’s known me since I was a baby. He always sent us a Christmas card, and he sent me a care package every year since I started at Penn State. I can get in contact with him.

Besides, what could possibly happen to me? I’m my mother’s daughter, remember?” I said proudly sitting up straight in the chair.

“This isn’t a joke. That’s exactly what I fear. If you have a heart like hers, someone’s bound to take advantage of you. You’re too…nice.” His face was dead serious, and for a moment, I was thinking that maybe he was right. This was a drastic move for me and maybe I should rethink it.

“But, I’ll ask Lindsay, remember her? She works at the pharmacy. Her daughter goes to NYU. Maybe she knows a place you can rent. Some place you can afford. And please, rent, don’t buy, you don’t know if you’re going to like it there. I’m sure you won’t. I’m telling you. It’s dangerous,

filled with weirdos and all kinds of nut jobs,” he said as he pointed his finger at me and made circles in the air next to the side of his head.

“Thanks. I’ll see you in two days.” I watched him as he shut the door behind him. 

I walked into the garage when he left. I saw boxes that were labeled bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. I peeked in the boxes and noticed they were empty. Were they moving? Or was she finally leaving him?

I walked back into the house and sat at the kitchen table thinking about my mother’s days cooking and cleaning and how tired she looked sometimes when I got home from school. She worked eight

hours a day, came home, and dealt with my father for the next eight hours until she went to sleep. They were always arguing about something or about nothing, but he always found a way to upset

her and get the best of her. She led a difficult and disheartening life. Part of her youth disappeared a little bit every day. He stole it with his philandering eyes and his cheating ways; but when he

was sober and showed her he loved her, he made it known to the world she was his everything. She would always try to find the best in my father. She searched in her heart every day until he

would beat it out of her, and then she would cry that he broke her heart, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

We lived in Pennsylvania all of our lives, and occasionally we visited New York City, at least once or twice a year. I thought New York City was the most magical place…the city of dreams. All of the tall skyscrapers, the lights, the rich people walking on the crowded sidewalks with their fancy,

posh clothes. People walked hurriedly through the concrete jungle with a sense of urgency to reach their final destination making me want to be like them, and…run, run away.

***

Two days came and went, and Uncle Mike was knocking on my front door early in the morning. 

“Ready?”

“Almost…give me a minute.”

He sat on the couch as I headed up the stairs to put some mascara on. I never left the house without mascara. I didn’t even stay in the house without mascara. I think it was an obsession. I finally came down ten minutes later. 

“Jesus, what took you so long?” he asked impatiently.

“Mascara, Uncle Mike, mascara,” I said laughingly.

He shook his head, and we got in his dilapidated Honda Civic and drove to the insurance office. We signed for and collected the check. We stopped at Wells Fargo bank in Brodheadsville, and I

opened a bank account and deposited the check. Mike looked over at me as I sat in the passenger seat staring out of the window as we drove back home. 

“Are you going to be okay, Jenesis?” he asked as he picked up speed.

“To tell you the truth…I don’t know.” I shrugged my shoulders at him as I slid my finger down the window.

“I didn’t tell you, but Misty and me…we’re getting married. We’re moving to North Carolina,” he said hesitantly.

“Oh, congratulations! That’s great news! Who’s misty?” I said surprised, though I really didn’t care.

“Some chick I met…she’s nice…she has two kids. Enough about her, I’m worried…I want you to be okay.” He extended his hand and held my hand in his. I squeezed his hand tightly.

“I’ll never be okay again, never. She’s gone, how could I?” The tears once again began to flow like a river. I held my face in my hands. I was so tired of crying, and I felt guilty because I didn’t

cry once for my father. I hated him. I hated him so much. Uncle Mike handed me a tissue, and I wiped my nose and glanced over at him.

“Uncle Mike…I miss her…I really miss her. I feel like I’m going to go crazy without her. Am I really ever going to be okay? Am I?” I wanted an answer from him. I searched in his eyes for comfort, pleading for him to tell me that this was all a dream. I wanted him to tell me that the pain

would subside tomorrow. I cried so hard, holding onto him for dear life. He held me with one hand and the steering wheel with the other.

The memories were eating away at me, and I just couldn’t seem to get any rest. I kept having nightmares about the accident. I could see my mother, her mouth wide open, screaming, and the

tears drowning her face because she was facing death head on. I knew she held on to him tightly before they crashed. I could see my father grabbing her by the arm to shield her from harm or

leaning over her to protect her. He might have been a drunken bastard to her, but he never let anyone or anything hurt her or us. He was extremely protective of us, and my mother loved him like no other woman could. She loved him unconditionally, that unconditional love that no matter what he did to her, she forgave him. She loved my father like no other, and she accepted him for who he was, an aggressive drunk, an abuser, a lousy father, and a lousy husband who didn’t want her, yet didn’t want anyone else to have her. Well, he finally got what he wanted. He was drunk all of the time, he beat her all of the time, he didn’t love me, I don’t know if he loved her and then…he killed her, so she never got the chance to meet anyone else.

I was always afraid for my mother, and now I know why; my father was a fast-talking, good-looking, manipulating, drunken, ticking, time-bomb who she couldn’t resist or control, and one day, when he would stop ticking… so would she. 

CHAPTER 3

I only had six months until to graduation, but I withdrew from Penn State University despite Uncle Mike’s advice. I knew finishing my degree was important, but at that moment, the only thing that

was really significant was leaving Pennsylvania and moving on with my life…and leaving those tormented memories behind. It would be a new beginning for me in every aspect. 

Though the house was up for sale, I had no prospective buyers at the time. It was Thanksgiving morning, and a flood of emotions and memories hit me like a ton of bricks. I called Uncle Mike to let him know I was leaving…today. I didn’t pack up the house, and I didn’t take anything with me

except the pictures on the mantle, the peach throw blanket from the sofa, and my mother’s keys to her car. Before I walked out of the house, my cell phone rang. It was Vivian.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Jen, where have you been? I’ve been calling you.” She sounded nervous.

“I had my phone off.” My voice cracked.

“When are you leaving?” she asked.

“Right now.” 

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I just can’t take it, Viv. It hurts too much.” I sighed deeply. “I love you, Viv. You’re the only person I have left in my life. I don’t know what I would do without you.” I swallowed hard, pushing down the ball of emotions I had stuck in my throat.

“You’re my best friend Jen. I’ll be here for you always. Be careful on the road. Call me when you get there.”

“I will.” 

I grabbed the keys, the pictures, and the throw blanket and locked the door. It took everything for me not to lose control and fall to pieces. I ran to the car, opened the driver’s side door, and started

it up. I glanced over at the house and then leaned my forehead against the steering wheel and whispered, “God, please, I can’t take much more.”

I picked up my cell phone as my hands shook and called Uncle Mike again.

“Uncle Mike, I left the name and address of the movers to donate the furniture to the church on Cherry Hill Road. I left them a check on the table. Barbara from Keller-Williams will be contacting you after she sells the house.”

“Jesus, Jenesis, Just like that? What are you thinking? I don’t even know if the apartment is ready for you to move in.”

“I can’t stay. I guess I’ll find out when I get there. By the way, Happy

Thanksgiving.”

“Jenesis, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to rush things.”

“There’s nothing left here for me, don’t you get it?”

“Jenesis, please, are you driving?”

“Yes, I already left.”

“Okay…calm down. I’ll call you when the movers pick up the stuff. Don’t change your number, please.”

“I have to go. Take care.”

“Jenesis. I’m sorry. Happy Thanksgiving. Why don’t you come and have dinner with me and Misty before you take off?” “Good bye Uncle Mike, thanks for everything.”

“Jenesis?” 

I hung up the phone and drove down the road, catching a glimpse of my house in the rear view mirror. I shook my head and stood staring straight ahead until I hit the highway. My heart was

trouncing as I drove off, and the tears flowed endlessly from my eyes, clouding my vision, making me want to crash into the nearest utility pole that I passed. I was breathless, gasping for air, and as

the sobs grew louder and louder, I worried I would end my life at that moment. I’ve never felt so confused, so abandoned…so alone. 

I drove for two hours, and as I approached the Lincoln Tunnel, it was packed, and I knew traveling during the holiday season would be a big mistake. I had nowhere else to go; there was no need to rush. I entered Manhattan slowly while pressing the round button on my cell phone to ask Siri to

find me a hotel as soon as I crossed the Lincoln tunnel. Her best advice was the Best Western Hotel. I called and booked a room then looked for a lot and paid for overnight parking. It cost me

a pretty penny for the two. I grabbed my throw blanket and picture frames and headed to the hotel. It was chilly outside, so I wrapped the throw blanket around me as I entered the hotel lobby. I

walked slowly through the lobby scoping out all of the visitors sitting and standing around waiting for a room. I approached the reception area and stopped at the front desk.

“Welcome to the Best Western Hotel, May I help you? The young man greeted me with a smile from ear to ear.

“Yes, Jenesis Heart. I just booked a room about a half an hour ago.” I felt nervous. I didn’t know if it was the drive or the fact it was Thanksgiving and seeing all of these people in the lobby visiting family while I was running away from my dead parents.

“Okay, Miss Heart, may I see identification, please?” He placed the palm of his hand upward.

I placed the frames on the counter as I grabbed my wallet out of my purse. I glanced up to the receptionist, and I caught him staring at the pictures in the frames. 

“Visiting family?” he said joyfully as my heart fell straight into my gut. I stared at him for a moment, not realizing my eyes welled up with tears and were already starting to overflow. “I’m sorry miss, may I have your ID?” he asked after noticing my reaction. I grabbed my driver’s license

and placed it on the counter. The tears slid down my cheeks, and I wiped them with my throw blanket still wrapped around me.

“Thank you,” I said as he handed me the card to my room.

“Third floor, take the elevators to your left. Enjoy your stay…and again,

I’m sorry,” he said as he smiled at me remorsefully knowing his question was the reason I began to cry.

I grabbed my frames and my license and headed towards the elevator. I thought I had my tears under control, but the closer I got to my destination the more the tears flooded my eyes. The people

in the elevator stared as I whimpered into my throw blanket, and one person even scoffed at my public display of sadness. The elevator opened on the third floor, and I walked out staring down

the old, snooty bat that made her feelings of resentment known in the elevator. Her eyes widened as I flipped her the bird as the elevators closed. I don’t know what possessed me to do that, but it

didn’t make me feel any better. I opened the door to the room and glanced around. I sat on the bed and sent Vivian a text message.

I’m in New York City. I don’t feel like talking. I’m going to sleep. Ttyl.

Jenesis

The room was so cold and impersonal. The cup of coffee and crackers I ate at the house was the last meal I had before arriving at the hotel, but I wasn’t hungry, and I couldn’t even think about putting anything in my stomach. I placed the frames on the bed and sat at the edge with the throw

blanket still wrapped around me, reminiscing of pumpkin pie and hot apple cider I shared with my mother on this very day every year, sitting on the porch.

The warmth of my mother’s hugs and the time spent sitting on the porch alone with her made me feel warm inside until I remembered the presence of the dark shadow that walked upon us, swaying

back and forth, tripping up the steps and mumbling curses under his breath…the devil…that’s who he was…my father…the devil himself. 

I awoke to the alarm clock that buzzed relentlessly in my ears. I rolled onto my stomach hoping my arms could reach that annoying alarm clock so I can push it to the floor, so it breaks into pieces.

I reached over and smacked the alarm clock with my hand. It hit the floor but kept buzzing so I got up slowly, slid off of the bed, and pressed the off button. I walked over to the window and

moved the curtain to the side. The streets were filled with people and a slight mixture of rain and snow fell as the pedestrians walked quickly to find shelter under a warm, dry place.   I needed to

get moving and drive down to the East Village to inquire about my apartment. I called Uncle Mike to ask him what I should do.

“Jenesis, how are you? It’s funny that you called. I just called the landlord. Your apartment has been ready for over a week now. He was actually going to rent it to someone else. What an asshole! Thank God, are you alright?”

“Yes, I slept well, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Good. He said to go directly to his office and pick up the keys. I didn’t want you to be “assed” out during this holiday season. You don’t have any furniture Jen. What are you going to do?” “I’ll shop for it later. Where’s his office?”

“It’s on the same block as the apartment building, just ask for Rhaji.”

“Rhaji? Okay…I guess. Thanks and I’ll talk to you soon.” I hung up and started to freshen up as I prepared to leave the hotel room in a rush. I startled myself as I saw my mother’s car sitting in the

parking space, reminding me that she was no longer with me. I swallowed hard as the valet parking attendant sat in the driver’s side and drove the car towards me. I handed him a tip, got in, and

headed to the village. I used my cell phone GPS, and my battery was running low. I plugged it into the car charger, I didn’t know where the hell I was, and I didn’t feel like getting lost. 

I met Rhaji at his office. As I entered the office, I noticed the stacks and stacks of files in every corner of his room. He wasn’t necessarily disorganized…you could say an organized mess. He was a tall, Middle Eastern man, with the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen and the bushiest

eyebrows sitting above his eyes like two Persian rugs. He wasn’t a bad looking guy…just a little odd.

“Please sit,” he said with a thick accent rummaging through the papers on his desk.

“Thank you.” I glanced around the office and noticed the door was shut. I was feeling uncomfortable. I needed to stand up and walk around.

“How long do you plan to rent?” He stared at my leg that was shaking up and down.

“A year maybe? Do you mind opening the door? It’s kind of stuffy in here.” I stood up and walked towards the door. I could feel a panic attack coming on.

“Sure no prob…” He didn’t finish his thought. He watched me carefully as I walked to the door, opened it, and stood in the doorway. I turned around and leaned against the door. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Here you go, sign here. Do you have cash or check?”

“I’m fine. Check…how much?” I asked taking a deep breath. My heart was sprinting out of my chest. I started feeling lightheaded. I walked over and grabbed my purse.

“Four-thousand-five-hundred,” he gawked at me to see the expression on my face.

“Here you go.” I grabbed my checkbook from my purse and wrote a check, and handed it to him.

“I really don’t take personal checks, but you seem honest enough.” His face was serious, but he tried to crack a smile.

“Excuse me?” 

“People write checks all of the time, and they bounce. It’s really bad for business.” He lowered and shook his head in disappointment.

“Oh, I see.” I felt stupid. I automatically assumed he didn’t trust me.  “Anyway, here are your keys, and here’s a copy of your lease. Welcome to

New York.” He smiled and handed me an envelope.

I nodded and smiled. I grabbed my purse and placed the envelope in my bag. I took off down the block looking for the numbers on the buildings. I scanned the buildings staring at the numbers. 

“Six ninety, six ninety-five St. Mark’s Place, here it is,” I said out loud as a passerby stared at me and gave me filthy look. I grabbed the keys out of the envelope, opened the front door, and headed up the stairs to the fifth floor. I could barely breathe when I reached the top step. As I unlocked

the door I realized how foreign everything was to me, even walking up the five flights of stairs. I walked into a tiny apartment that looked more like one big bedroom with a kitchen the size of a

bathroom and the bedroom the size of a closet. It wasn’t spectacular, and I even saw a couple of creepy crawlers scattering about in the sink as I flicked on the light in the kitchen. I walked towards

the window to find what looked like a gate across it and some metal stairs leading down to the street. I didn’t even have a nice view; I was lonely and didn’t know how much so, until I sat on

the floor of my apartment and looked around at the empty space that needed to be furnished, and the white walls that yearned to be colored, reminding me of the desolate times that lay ahead.

***

I really didn’t know how to decorate a “Manhattan” apartment; it always seemed like Manhattan was for the rich and snooty, and I was the last person on Earth who lived like a rich person, and from the looks of this apartment, I wasn’t living on Park Avenue. I knew I didn’t have the touch,

but I knew if my mother were here, she would make this place look like a palace. She was a simple woman, but she could make anything look beautiful under any circumstances. I remember the

dining room furniture having four different chairs that she purchased at a flea market because my father would break one at least once a month when he got home drunk. You would never know it though, the way she wrapped silk sheets over the chairs and tied a tight ribbon around them for