Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) (36 page)

Savannah goes to a toy chest against the wall and pulls out several stuffed animals like a happy little girl would. I feel such gratefulness for this couple that took her in. “Can I ask how y’all got her?” Sylvia and Massey stare at one another in silent question, and I know it’s classified information. “Okay. Do you know anything about her… her,” inhaling deep, I try to gain strength to ask this question while knowing the answer might not be the one I want to hear, “level of abuse?”

Sylvia grabs my hand and squeezes it tight. “Nothing sexual, if that’s what you mean. Just emaciated and some long scars across her back. We don’t know exactly what they’re from, but they were pretty deep and left marks. I’m hoping that, as time passes, they’ll fade.”

Without having to see the marks, I know what caused them. It’s something we share. “Car antenna,” My voice is void of emotion. “It was the switch he preferred.” Nausea from thoughts of a little girl enduring such abuse takes hold. But I remind myself continuously that she’s alive, she’s safe, and she wasn’t sexually abused.

My attention turns to Massey and a tear rolls down my cheek. It’s the only way I’ll grieve for my sister while she’s present. I want to be strong for her and protect her from the world’s evil. “Is the bastard dead?”

He once again shows no surprise from my question and looks me dead in the eye. His hatred is apparent from his stare and the tick in his jaw. “No. He’s in a place with people that will show him the same courtesy he showed his children.”

My head nods with understanding. Death would be too easy for him. I want him to suffer instead of having a swift death. “And her birth mom?”

“Money hungry bitch and I’m not saying another word.” His tone is final. It’s fine, though. I have all the answers that are really important at the moment. His phone goes off so he excuses himself before disappearing into his study.

While we watch Savannah playing, Sylvia tells me about her two girls, Hanna and Michelle, who both attend college in Tennessee. One goes to Vanderbilt and the other University of Tennessee. She’s sad because this is her first Christmas without either of them home, but having Savannah has helped. She also tells me how they both had the biggest crush on Lyric when they met him three years ago.

Hearing his name still causes my heart to pick up its pace, but I’m still bitter after all that I’ve learned. The life he’s been holding back on after I opened up about everything I went through growing up. It wasn’t easy to tell him those things, to let myself trust someone with not only my body, but also my heart.

And he knew my brother? He sold the heroine to him? Or made money somehow off his addiction.
Ugh! I want to hit him in his goddamn face.
My trust was once again misplaced, and I talked about my brother, how his death affected me. He never showed any sign of knowing him or guilt for what he had done.
Bastard.

Sylvia studies me for a second. “I see that look, Blaire. I don’t know much about the boys from The Reform, but I know they have no control over their own lives. Absolutely none.” Then she looks at Savannah and sighs. “But one, we both know, broke the rules for you.”

And with those words, she walks out of the room and leaves me having an inner battle of emotions. One is gratitude for what he did for me and the other is betrayal for what he kept from me. Right now, I just don’t know which is going to win.

The next few days are quiet and a routine begins. I wake to a snoring Savannah cuddled beside me every morning so I sneak out from under the covers to get in the shower. When I’m done, she’s wide-awake so we head downstairs and eat cereal together while watching cartoons. Lucky Charms is her favorite and I can’t help but smile. It was Benji’s favorite, too. Every day she talks more and more and I learn that she’s smart for a four-year-old.

On the third day, snow flurries start, so we head outside to play together. I’ve had to borrow Sylvia’s daughters’ clothes because I don’t have anything with me, plus they live too far from any clothing stores for me to go shopping. And let’s not forget, I have no money with me. The last thought brings Lyric and everything I’ve learned to my mind. I can’t help but worry that he might be in trouble but there’s nothing I can do. Hearing Massey on the phone late at night has me believing Lyric is on the other line. I have no proof of this other than my own intuition. Either way, the phone conversations give me peace of mind so I can sleep.

After we head in for lunch and warm up while drinking hot cocoa, Vannah brings up Benji. “Where is he?”

“Um… he died and is in heaven.” The words still hurt to say but she needs to know the truth.

Her large eyes meet mine. “Will he come back? Wike you did?”

“Like I did?” I ask. “I never died, Vannah. When someone dies, they don’t come back.”

“Daddy towd me you were dead. But you came back.” Before I question her further, she continues. “How did he die?” She looks at me expectantly and smiles, showcasing her missing front tooth.

What do I say? How do I tell a four-year-old girl the truth about her brother who did drugs and OD’d? My mind searches for anything that she will understand, but nothing comes to mind. I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want her to know about that ugly side of life. She’s going to find out on her own as she grows up. The world is a horrible place and bad things happen that shouldn’t. People die who shouldn’t and people live who shouldn’t. I hate the fact today’s world is probably nothing compared to tomorrow’s and I can’t protect her from it all. I can only shield her today, and the only way to do it is by lying. That’s the one thing I’ve tried not to do since I became tired of being the one lied to all the time. Even that might not be enough, but it’s the only way to protect her innocence at the moment.

As I tell her about Benji’s love for adventure and how he had a horrible accident that made him hit his head really hard, I think of Lyric. How he lied to me. How he protected me because of those lies. He tried to hide me from the ugliness of his world just like I’m trying to protect Vannah. How can I be mad at him for that, or for sacrificing himself to bring down a truly evil person?

That night, when I lay my head on the pillow, I do something I never thought I’d do again after our mother died. After all those years of asking for help and never getting it, I pray. Pray that Lyric will be okay and for him to know I forgive him. “I love you, Lyric.”

A loud crash wakes me from a dead sleep. It’s so loud I sit up and Savannah starts to scream, but I cover her mouth quickly. Putting my finger to my lips, I tell her silently to stay quiet. She nods with wide eyes that reflect the moonlight. The floor is cold on my feet and my breaths are foggy. It feels colder now than it did when we fell asleep. So cold my teeth want to chatter, but I know I can’t make a noise. Grabbing a robe off the floor, I slip it on for extra warmth while listening for anything coming from another room.

When I feel something slide against me, my heart rate picks up and cold terror sets in until I see Vannah. She grabs my hand and wiggles her finger for me to come to her. When I bend down enough, she cups my ear and whispers,“Fowo me.”

Confused about where she’s taking me, I follow. She leads me inside the shared bathroom between the two daughter’s rooms. The nightlight that normally stays lit isn’t on and I’m sure the power is out. Luckily, a window lets in moonlight to help guide our steps. Movement downstairs has my heartbeat speeding up but I continue to let Vannah lead me. She opens the bathroom sink cabinet door and climbs inside. I don’t think we both can fit. but I want to make sure she’s okay so I bend down and look. She’s not there. “Vannah?” I whisper in the darkness.

“Shhhh!!!”

An involuntary smile forms, because she’s four and has taken charge in a terrifying situation. Before I know it, I hear the bedroom door slam open against the wall. Without hesitating, I close the cabinet door and step into the walk-in closet. Whoever it is, I refuse to lead them to Vannah.

No voices are heard, only heavy breathing and things being tossed around. My body goes further into the shadows behind the clothes while I pray they won’t find Vannah. The bathroom door smacks the wall, and to keep myself from having a panic attack, I count.
1…2…3…
The door to the closet opens.
4…5…6…
The perpetrator steps closer and starts to rummage through the clothes. I scoot back into the far corner. That’s when I touch something at my feet. Slowly, I squat down and feel the cool metal of a softball bat. Wrapping my hands around the grip, I lift it up. Even though I’m terrified, I make a decision that if I’m going to die, dammit, I’m going down with a fight.

Just then, the shadowy figure slings the clothes back, revealing me. I haven’t had time to raise the bat yet so I swing low, and with all my strength, hit him right in the balls. He yells in pain and lands on his knees. As I pass him, he grabs my foot and brings me down, causing me to lose my grip on the bat.

He starts to climb his way up my body and I kick him but he doesn’t stop. My hands automatically claw until he lets go and my nails rip skin. The darkness shadows over his figure and blocks him from my sight, but it’s easy to make out his massive size. I’m sure if he grabs me again, I won’t be getting away. As I stand, I grab the bat. Before he can get to his feet, I swing like Reggie Jackson and bash him in the head, knocking him to the floor. I don’t know if he’s dead or unconscious and I don’t care either way. Even though my curiosity wants to know who the hell it is, I’m not stupid enough to stick around. I’m just ready to get the hell out of there.

After I open the cabinet, I grab Vannah who’s been watching the whole time. We walk out into the hallway and I stop to listen for any noise that seems unusual. Silence greets us and reminds me of a horror movie. I don’t know where the Masseys are but I have a bad feeling.

Taking a steadying breath, I latch onto Vannah’s hand and we make our way down the steps. My stomach drops when one squeaks from my weight, but nobody comes after us so we continue. When we reach the kitchen, I find the keys to Lyric’s car before grabbing jackets from the mudroom.

The snow flurries and wind have picked up so I carry Vannah the rest of the way. When I see the car isn’t inside the building, I exhale with relief because I won’t have to break in. It’s hidden behind it with a tarp covering it.

“Stay here.” After I set her down, I begin removing the snow-covered tarp. When I’m done, my arms are burning and tired, but the adrenaline coursing through my body has me hurrying. I manually unlock it with the key, hoping no one hears or sees anything odd, and put Vannah in.
Reaching across her tiny body, I grab the seat belt and make sure she’s secure.

Before I can finish adjusting the strap, she grabs my hand with her cold fingers. “I scared, Bwaire.”

The light is too dim to see her, but I hear the tears and sniffles in her voice and my stomach clenches. All I can do is lie to her once more to help her feel protected. I don’t like her sad or feeling unsafe. No child should ever be scared of death like this. “We’re gonna be okay. So, don’t you worry. Okay?” I can only hope to keep that promise and get her to safety before whoever is still after us comes back. With a deep breath, I crank the car and try to find my way to safety. Try to find my way to Lyric.