My Torin

by K. Webster

  It’s the only explanation.

  “I’m hungry.” She pouts, her ass looking too damn good in her yoga pants.

  I stare at her over my laptop where I’m sitting at the bar. I want to ask her if she’d like tacos at her favorite restaurant in town, but I’m too mesmerized by her ass.

  She closes the refrigerator and turns to look at me. Her hands settle on her hips. My gaze drops to my favorite part of her.

  Her stomach.

  I’m endlessly fascinated by the fact that a child is growing inside of her. My child. Together, we made something. By love. Love, an intangible concept, created life. It’s mind-boggling. I’ve spent hours and hours and hours researching love and conception. It makes me think of my gift to her. Perhaps this evening as we lie in bed together, I will give it to her.

  “Can you order pizza?” she asks, her hip cocking off to one side.

  Dragging my stare from her, I pull up the pizza app. The Internet says she’s having cravings. It’s the only way to explain the horrible shit she puts on her pizza. Nonetheless, the baby needs it. At least that’s what she tells me. Who am I to argue? So, like I do a few days out of the week, I order the pizza. Mushrooms, pineapple, extra olives. Just like she requires.

  She presses a kiss to the top of my head before rummaging around in the cabinets on the hunt for something. Casey likes to bake and does it often. At first, she burned a lot of recipes or they turned out soggy. I ate them all to not hurt her feelings. But now, she makes desserts every bit as good as the ones we get at restaurants or the bakery at the grocery store. Pride surges in my chest. She’s happy here with me.

  I tear my adoring stare from her to check my email. In my inbox sits one from my private investigator, Danny.

  Torin,

  They’ve been over to Guy’s every day this week. I know he keeps getting the money you’ve sent, but something told me he’s planning something. And I was right. They’re headed your way. Please advise.

  Danny

  “Pizza man’s here,” Casey chirps as she flits past me out of the kitchen.

  Terror bubbles up inside me and I jerk from the barstool on a mission after her. They weren’t supposed to find us. Fuck.

  I’ve just rounded the corner to the foyer when she opens the door. Instead of the pizza man greeting her, two familiar faces stare back. They’re familiar because I’ve obsessed over them. Tyler obsessed over them. We did everything in our power—first him and then me—to keep them away. And now they’re here.

  “Casey?” the woman asks, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise. “Is that really you?”

  The woman takes a step into the house and Casey stumbles two back. I want to throw her over my shoulder, running from the house with her in my grip. Away. Fucking away. Away from these uncaring monsters.

  My body fights against me.

  I’m forced to stare.

  Unable to intervene.

  “C-Can I help y-you?” Casey stammers.

  “I’m Mona.” She beams, revealing the four or five teeth left that meth didn’t take. “I’m your mother.”

  Casey’s knees buckle. I should catch her. I want to catch her. My body refuses to move. The man beside Mona swoops in and collects my girl into his arms before she hits the floor.

  “Oh, goodness, honey,” Mona coos. Her tone feels off to me. “Carl, carry her over to the sofa.”

  He scoops Casey into his arms and saunters past me. I’m left in a cloud of his disgusting cigarette stench that still lingers from his last smoke. Mona follows him, making herself at home in our home.

  All I can do is stare.

  These people are coming into our home and I can’t do a goddamned thing about it.

  “No!” I bark out.

  Mona jerks her head my way and frowns. Her white-blond hair is stringy and greasy, hanging limp at the sides of her face. The same blue eyes Casey stares at me with are the ones staring at me now. But these are harsher. Calculating. Dark. I don’t like this bitch’s eyes at all. She needs to go.

  Make her go.

  My hands fist, but all I can do is watch.

  Carl kneels beside the sofa and deposits Casey onto the cushions. “Oh look, Mona, we’re gonna be grandparents.” His big hand splays over Casey’s middle, causing me to ignite with rage.

  “NO!”

  Mona whispers loudly to Carl, as if I can’t hear. “He’s the retard Guy was telling us about. It’s a good thing we showed up when we did.”

  My chest aches with the need to drag both these assholes out of this house. I physically thrum with the desire to inflict violence against them. I don’t want them near her.

  “I’m her stepdaddy Carl. My wife, Mona, and I’ve been searching for our baby girl for so long.” He grins at me as he stands. Also, a toothless motherfucker. “Ain’t that right, Mo? We’ve been tryin’ to do right by her. Her old foster daddy, Guy, was tryin’ to play us—kept gettin’ money out of us and promisin’ us he’d tell us where she ended up. Her momma thinks we could take our story to the television execs and they’d make a Lifetime movie about us. We’d be rich. Then we’d really be able to do right by our girl.”

  “Casey-Casey,” I grit out.

  Mona nods before talking loud and slow. “Do you have a nurse?”

  I glare at her.

  “I don’t think he speaks English, babe,” Carl says, his brows scrunching together. “Hell, maybe he ain’t a retard. Maybe he’s just deaf. I saw on the television once that deaf people talk like retards but that’s ’cause they can’t hear the sound of their own voice.”

  I’m bubbling with fury, an explosion just waiting to happen.

  “Was this on the Discovery channel?” Mona asks.

  “Think so, babe.”

  “You’re so smart, honey.”

  They share a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes like the way Casey and I do sometimes. Then, she turns to me again.

  “Can youuuu giveeee ussss a minuteee with myyyy daughterrrrr?” Mona practically yells as she drags out each word so I’ll understand.

  My eyes flit to Casey on the sofa. She’s blinking away her daze and rubs at her temples. I want to yank her off that couch—to carry her and our unborn child away from these people.

  “NO!” I bark again.

  Carl crosses his arms over his chest. “Now that ain’t a way to be talkin’ to my lady, son. You better show some goddamned respect.”

  Mona lifts her hand and silences him. “Honey, it’s fine. He doesn’t know any better.”

  “You need to leave,” Casey utters from the sofa. “Whoever you are, leave.”

  Mona walks over to the sofa and sits beside my woman. “I’m your momma, honey.”

  “No,” Casey croaks before her voice becomes hard like steel. “My mother abandoned me at a church in the middle of a snowstorm.”

  “Cocaine Casey,” my stupid mouth yells.

  Casey’s head jerks my way and her bottom lip wobbles wildly. “Cocaine Casey,” she repeats, her voice shaking.

  Stupid.

  I’m so fucking stupid.

  “The retard is mean,” Carl gripes.

  “Stop calling him that!” Casey screeches, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Get out of my house!”

  Mona’s eyes widen. “This is your house? Oh, honey, you’ve done so well for yourself. I knew you would. You’re your mother’s daughter after all.” She grins again and it’s fucking creepy without any teeth to hardly speak of.

  Carl laughs. “Your momma knows how to make money too. Ain’t that right, baby?” He waggles his eyebrows in a suggestive way as though they’re sharing an inside joke.

  I yank my phone from my pocket and make it work. The voice isn’t sharp like I want, but it gets my point across. “Get the hell out of my house. You’re not welcome here.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned, Mo, he ain’t retarded like you say. He is deaf. I fuckin’ knew it!” Carl beams at everyone and scratches at his throat. “I’m gonna go out to the car
.” He makes an obvious show of winking at Mona. Then he looks at me, making his words really loud. “Do you like the brown crystal?”

  I blink, blink, blink at him.

  “Run along now, Carl,” Mona chides.

  Carl leaves and Casey looks over at me, helplessness written all over her face. I want to rush over to her and fix all of this. Fuck. I don’t know how.

  Mona reaches over and takes Casey’s hand. “Honey, I’m so sorry about that day. I was in a bad place and all I ever wanted was for you to have a good life. And look at ya. You’re livin’ in this castle and more beautiful than I could have imagined. You turned into a princess.”

  Casey relaxes and looks down at their conjoined hands. Tears roll from her eyes like a faucet that’s been left on.

  Go to her, asshole.

  Take her away from them.

  “Y-You left me,” Casey accuses. There’s no bite in her voice like when I trapped her in her room. She’s broken. My brave, strong beautiful Casey is broken.

  “Casey-Casey,” I murmur. She doesn’t hear me.

  “I had to,” Mona chokes out. “I didn’t want to, but I had to.”

  Casey lifts her chin and stares at her mother. “You didn’t want to?”

  Mona shakes her head in vehemence. “Never. You were so beautiful. I remember thinking of all the fun things we were gonna do, honey. Just you and me.”

  Casey’s throat bobs as a sob escapes. “But you left me.”

  “I was always comin’ back for ya.” Mona smiles again, ugly as fuck.

  “You were?”

  I want to rush over to them and yell at Casey. Explain to her that moms aren’t like this. My mom was so different. Loving and caring and thoughtful. She wasn’t manipulative. I can see what Casey doesn’t see right now. Mona was right, she was coming back. From what my PI, Danny, says and also what’s confirmed by Tyler’s PI, is that she always knew where Casey was. From one home to the other, she always knew. This town is small and people talk. She wasn’t supposed to know, but she always seemed to have found out from locals. All anyone ever had to do was bring up the baby left in the manger and the gossip train led them right to where Casey’s newest location was. Mona never once came for her, though, not until an opportunity arouse. Money. The moment she sniffed out that Casey had landed with my brother and me, she started digging. Danny explained that she was getting information from Guy—who thought he could somehow benefit from whatever two drugged out losers had to offer—and they’ve been planning something.

  This.

  Coming here and catching her off guard.

  Manipulating her.

  It’s as clear as day.

  So why is Casey staring at her like she just found her long lost dog? Why is Casey smiling a hopeful smile I’ve only seen a few times on her lips?

  “Mine!” I yell, scaring both women.

  Mona frowns as she whispers to Casey, “Why isn’t he in a home?”

  “A home?” Casey asks in confusion.

  They both stare back at me. Pity in Casey’s stare and disdain in Mona’s. It drives me wild. I need to fix this. I need to fucking fix this. I can’t do it here. Not when I can’t get my body or my goddamned mouth to work.

  “He needs help,” Mona says, her voice soft as though I can’t hear her.

  I shoot Casey a pleading look—one that begs for her to understand.

  And then I disappear into the wall.

  Mom.

  Mom.

  Mom.

  Holy shit.

  I’m so many emotions all rolled into one. Angry and sad and confused…and happy? The verdict is still out on the last one. Maybe relieved is a better word. Seeing an older version of myself staring back at me is surreal. Something I never thought I’d ever see. I’d given up all hope.

  But now…

  Now, I’m staring her right in the face.

  Life has been hard on her. Age has wrinkled her face. Drugs have ruined her skin, hair, and teeth. But she smiles. Her smiles are infectious. I’m drawn to them.

  Nerves overtake me and I fidget. She takes my hand again. My eyes flit to a silver bangle bracelet on her wrist. Without thinking, I reach over and tap it with my nail. It pings. The sound soothes my nerves.

  Pingpingpingping.

  I look up at her and she’s still smiling.

  Pingpingpingping.

  “I thought maybe we could spend some time together,” my mother says. “And then who knows?” Her gaze falls to my stomach. “I’m a grandma. This is such wonderful news, honey.”

  My heart clenches in confusion. On one hand, I dare to hope for a future with my mother in my life. On the other hand, I want to protect my unborn fetus from my mother’s abandonment. Because, surely, she isn’t here to stay. How can I trust her?

  “I’m overwhelmed,” I admit, my nail continuing to tap at her jewelry.

  Pingpingpingping.

  “It’s okay,” she assures me, her tone motherly—so motherly I start to cry. “Come here, honey.”

  I’m pulled into her embrace and I’m helpless. I let the woman who gave birth to me wrap me up in her bony arms. I let her kiss my hair and sing a nursery rhyme that I’m pretty sure doesn’t make sense. I close my eyes and imagine myself at three years old. Back when I would have nightmares and plead for my mommy to come save me.

  She’s here.

  Saving me?

  I wish Tyler were here.

  The thought is sudden and sad. He’d know what to do. If anyone saved me, it was him. He always swooped in and took care of things. A loud sob wrenches from me. My pregnancy hormones are intense and sometimes I cry for hours as I mourn him.

  “I’m here now.” She strokes my hair. “I can come and help you take care of the baby. Who’s the father?”

  I jerk away and swipe at my tears, tossing my own question back at her. “I don’t know. You tell me. If Carl isn’t my father, who is?”

  Her lip curls up. “Your daddy wasn’t worth anything. Ricky went to the pen for life after he gutted a cop. I was pregnant with you when he did that. He died a few years back.” She beams at me. “Don’t you worry, honey, the trash took itself out. It’s just you and me, kid.”

  I can’t process all of this. Too much. Too freaking much. “I, uh, I…”

  “Is the deaf guy the father?”

  Deaf guy?

  I shake my head. “He’s not deaf, he’s—”

  “Wow, this house is big, Mo,” Carl hollers as he bounces back into the room. “But would you believe it ain’t got windows?”

  My mother scoffs. “Don’t be silly, honey.”

  “I swear to Jesus in a manger!” he hoots. The manger reference makes me flinch. “They’re fake on the outside. I was testing one of the locks,” he says, grinning wolfishly my way. “Makin’ sure you were protected, baby girl. Anyway, fake as hell. I came back inside to investigate and there are no windows. Damn weirdest thing I’ve ever seen!”

  I start to explain the history of the house, but the words die on my lips. “We have pizza coming. Maybe stay for dinner?”

  “Of course!” they both yell in unison.

  I stare down at my uneaten pizza. Bile rises in my throat. I’m stressed out about having my birth mother and her husband here. Even more stressed that Torin has refused to come back out.

  “It’s gettin’ late,” Carl observes and then leans closer to me. “Mona wanted to ask…” We both follow his gaze to my mother as she stands at the sink happily loading the dishwasher. I want to know her because she’s a part of me, but I’m scared.

  “What?”

  “Well, we’re a couple hours’ drive from here. The hotels we passed were a bit fuckin’ expensive. And since the house is so big and all…” He trails off and frowns. “Any room for your stepdaddy and momma for the night?”

  My mother turns to smile at me again. I wish I had pictures of her when she was younger and had all her teeth. Did we look just alike?

  “Uh, sure,” I tell him absently.
“I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms.”

  “One of the guest rooms,” he mimics in a girl voice. “Fancy.”

  I force a smile. “Come on. I’ll show you around and then maybe we can talk more in the morning. I’m so tired.”

  My mother walks over to me and hugs me. “The baby needs rest. We’ll be here in the mornin’.”

  “Torin?”

  He’s nowhere to be found. I’ve searched the house from top to bottom. He hurt my feelings by disappearing when I needed him most. I just need some reassurance. Misty meows when I sit beside her on his bed. I absently stroke her fur as I text him.

  Me: Where are you?

  Torin: Working.

  My heart sinks.

  Me: Bad timing, eh? That was my biological mother. I kind of needed your support.

  Torin: She’s not a good person.

  Me: So you left me alone with her?

  Tears pool in my eyes, blurring the screen. My emotions are all over the place, heightened by my pregnancy.

  Torin: Check your email.

  I want to scream at him and throw my phone against the wall. Instead, I step out of my yoga pants and crawl into bed. Exhaustion seeps into my bones. When I open my email, I’m surprised to find many attachments from Torin.

  Pictures. Guy meeting with my mother and Carl.

  Money exchanging hands for information.

  Even a sound clip of a phone conversation between Carl and Guy.

  Then, I find correspondence between Guy and Tyler. Guy blackmailing Tyler—telling him he’d keep my identity and location safe from my mother and Carl as long as the money kept coming. Once Tyler died, it would appear that Guy switched sides and worked with Carl and my mother in hopes to syphon out more money from the Kline name.

  I knew I couldn’t trust them.

  No matter how much I wanted to, I knew better.

  Emotion immobilizes me. I’m dying to go find them in the guest room and scream at them to get out of our house. Instead, I close my eyes and let sleep take over.

  I wake to someone licking my neck. Hot. Familiar. Mine. Now that I’m pregnant, he’s careful of my stomach. He keeps his giant frame from fully smashing me against the bed whenever he deems it necessary to look after me.