Veda swallowed back a scream of pure joy at the news that her parents had turned in, instead, giving only a soft nod as she continued working her fingers between Lincoln’s slippery toes, still watching Gage over her shoulder.
A long silence fell.
“Your mom is, uh…” Gage’s eyes widened as he took a deep breath, sucking the air in through clenched teeth. “She’s uh… she’s really nice.”
“She’s a nightmare.”
“She’s exhausting.” He exhaled, his shoulders collapsing now that he had her permission to be honest, giving the doorframe all his weight as his body attempted to cave in on itself. “I’m exhausted.”
Veda turned back to Lincoln and continued his bath.
Gage’s voice grew louder over her shoulder as he crossed the room. The toilet next to the bathtub rattled as he sat on it, and a moment later, the warmth of his fingers was on the back of her neck, massaging it softly.
Veda’s eyes fluttered for a moment, her hands still on Lincoln’s wiggling body, just long enough for her to bask in the amazing sensation of Gage kneading her skin.
“Man, I thought my mother was a handful,” he said.
“Now do you understand why I never call them? Why you’ve never met them?”
“A little. But I’m still glad I did.”
“You are?”
“I really am. Mostly because, in meeting them, I feel like I have a completely new understanding of you. Why you are the way you are. Just from sharing one dinner with your mother. And your father? My God. I’ve never seen a man so scared of his wife.”
“I think terrified would be the word.”
“It’s like he’s worried she’ll rip his balls clear away from his body at any moment. Guess the Chopper’s got nothing on Vivian Vandyke, huh?”
Veda bit her bottom lip as Gage’s words sank in. When she realized he was right—that her mother could give The Shadow Rock Chopper a run for her money—something hit her. A feeling she hadn’t felt in months. A wave so powerful that even the angel from heaven still squirming under her soapy hand wasn’t strong enough to wash it away.
Tears burned her eyes, and her lips curled as she tried, unsuccessfully, to fight them.
Still massaging the back of her neck, Gage chuckled. “On the bright side… it’s only another five days until Christmas, right?”
When she didn’t respond, his hand stilled on her neck. She felt the moment he leaned over, his scent swooping in. Not even his amazing aroma was enough to stop the first tear from spilling over her eyes and down her cheek.
“Whoa.” His voice came softer as he bent at the hip even more, trying to catch her eyes, his brows pinched. “Are you—baby, are you crying?”
There were only two questions in existence that had the power to make anyone break down—‘are you crying?’ and ‘are you okay?’ Gage had chosen the former, and it hadn’t disappointed because a sob immediately left Veda’s lips, causing him to leave the toilet completely and bend down on the floor next to her.
The explosion that had been building up inside her all day came pouring from her mouth like word vomit, the tears in her eyes straining her voice and breaking her words as she gasped around them. “Nothing will ever be good enough. Nothing I say or do is ever good enough.”
“Oh, damn it, baby,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in.
Keeping one arm in the tub, supporting Lincoln’s neck, Veda let Gage pull her weeping face into his chest, crying softly, her tears soaking the cotton of his shirt as she fell apart. She remained there for nearly a minute, each haggard breath more broken than the last as she attempted to fight back her emotion.
“I don’t like this,” Gage growled, stroking her curls faster every moment her tears didn’t die down. “I don’t like it, Veda. I want her out.”
Veda pulled back with a sharp breath and looked up at him in shock. His flared nostrils, noisy breathing, and clenched jaw proved that he was deadly serious. That her breakdown had finally induced the explosion he himself had been holding at bay all day.
He cupped her cheeks, searching her eyes. “If it’s going to make you this upset, I want her out of this house.”
“I would never dream of putting the accommodating rich boy inside you in such an uncomfortable position.”
“Say the word, baby, and I’ll throw her ass out. I’ll do it right now.”
Veda searched his eyes for another long moment before leaning back down into the tub, giving Lincoln all of her attention once more as she resumed his bath, sniffling softly.
“I’m just being dramatic,” she whispered. “If you’d been around during my childhood, you’d know that locking myself in a bathroom and crying for four hours isn’t exactly out of the ordinary.”
Gage massaged her back.
She wasn’t looking at him, but she could still picture the deep line she knew was drawing itself between his eyebrows. The same deep line she saw growing between Lincoln’s eyebrows below her, the way it always did when the water was getting too cold for him. At that moment, for the first time since the day he’d been born, Lincoln didn’t look Chinese to her. Or Pakistani. Or Dominican.
He looked like his father.
And it dried her tears in an instant. “No,” she said again, stroking Lincoln’s cheek. “It’s just a few more days. Let’s just have them until Christmas and get it over with. That way we won’t have to see or hear from her again for another five to ten years.”
“Is that really the only answer?”
Veda laughed softly. “Have you already forgotten the nightmare we just endured? From the moment she stepped inside this house? This is who she is, Gage. This is who she’s always been. She’s never going to change. She’s an older woman. Set in her ways.”
Veda gathered up the towel she’d left slung across the tub, ready to take Lincoln out of the bath, but when Gage suddenly stopped massaging her back, she looked over her shoulder at him.
His eyes were there to catch hers, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.
Then he said, softly. “I have an idea.”
8
“Thank you for seeing us again this week, Dr. Marshall, and so close to Christmas. I know you intended to be out of the office until the New Year, so we really appreciate it,” Gage said, leaning forward on his knees in the middle of the worn out beige couch that he, Veda, and Celeste could hardly bring themselves to sit on once a week, let alone twice. His chest rose high in his black cashmere sweater, and his knees bobbed in his black slacks as he moved his sleepy eyes to Vivian on his right, and then Veda on his left.
Both women sat on opposite ends of the couch, nearly climbing onto the sofa’s arms as if they were seconds from using them for leverage to jump up and dash out of the room. But no one dashed. After waking up at the crack of dawn—the sun had barely begun rising out of the window in the far corner of the office—neither of them had the energy to.
“It’s my pleasure, Gage,” Dr. Marshall said, her brown hair pulled up into her signature twist. She was more casual that morning—in a soft pink sweater and a pair of flared jeans, her slim legs crossed in the gray sitting-chair across from the couch. “And I can’t lie. While I’d love nothing more than to claim sainthood right at the stroke of Christmas, I’m not exactly here out of the kindness of my heart. With three kids under the age of ten, this year’s shopping nearly broke me, and being offered ten times my going rate was an offer I simply couldn’t refuse.”
“Well, we still appreciate it. Because…” Gage looked back and forth between Vivian and Veda. “We seem to be having some real trouble seeing eye-to-eye here.”
“I’m not having trouble at all,” Vivian jumped in.
Gage held his hands out, speaking to the doctor instead of Vivian. “Listen, all I know is that my fiancée burst into hysterical tears on the bathroom floor last night, and I don’t like that. I feel like it’s important for Lincoln to have his grandparents in his life, but not at the cost of his mother’s sani
ty. I feel like the only way she and Vivian will be able to have a healthy relationship is if they talk through whatever it is that’s hurting Veda so badly. You’ve helped my mother and me tremendously. I know you can help them too.”
Behind her rectangular glasses, Dr. Marshall’s blue eyes traveled between Veda and Vivian, who both still appeared seconds from climbing over their respective arms of the couch just to escape the situation.
Vivian’s legs were crossed away from Veda and Gage—arms locked tight over her chest. Her crossed leg swung in the bright red suit set she wore. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a huff before tightening the arms she had crossed over her chest as well.
Dr. Marshall’s gaze shifted to Veda, making the chain on her glasses jingle.
One look at Veda—who also had her legs crossed away from everyone, lips pursed, eyes rolling non-stop, Converse sneaker bopping incessantly and pointed toward the door she looked seconds from making a run for—and Dr. Marshall took a deep breath, clicked open her pen and flipped her notepad to a fresh page.
Gage saw her do this, and the two shared a knowing look. “I guess I’ll leave you guys to it.”
Gage went to stand, but Veda clapped a hand on his forearm, making the baggy black t-shirt dress she wore rise high on her thighs and the damp bun at the top of her head wobble. She silently widened her eyes at him in a way that screamed ‘no way in hell you’re abandoning me like this.’
With another look between Vivian and Veda, Dr. Marshall lifted her eyes to Gage. “I think that’s for the best, Gage. Thank you for your discernment.”
“No problem.” Gage smiled, but it quickly vanished when, as he tried to leave, Veda tightened her hold on his arm. He bent at the waist to get closer to her, and they shared a whispered conversation that prompted Vivian to shake her head with a smirk from the other end of the couch. A moment later Gage finally managed to say the right words, the words that caused Veda to begrudgingly return his arm to him so he could make his way to the door.
A moment later, after bidding Dr. Marshall a sarcastic “good luck,” he was gone, the door to the office clicking closed behind him.
Dr. Marshall looked to Vivian. “Vivian, since it’s your first time joining us today, I’d like to go over a few—”
“You saw what they just did, didn’t you?” Vivian snapped her eyes to Dr. Marshall for the first time since walking into that office and plopping down on the couch. “The way they were just whispering about me? They’ve been doing that since the moment I arrived. Having secret conversations. Probably saying the most negative, mean-spirited things.”
Veda rolled her eyes.
Dr. Marshall watched her do it, smiled softly, and returned her gaze to Vivian. “Vivian, I appreciate how forthcoming you are about how Veda and Gage are making you feel. We like to emphasize that here. ‘I feel’ as opposed to ‘you make me feel’ is recommended to avoid upsetting or offending each other.”
“You’re asking for a Christmas miracle that ain’t ever coming, Doctor,” Veda smirked.
“Veda, when it’s your time to speak, we’ll all be happy to listen, but right now, it’s Vivian’s time. Vivian, do you have something you’d like to say about how you’re feeling? Remember, ‘I feel.’ Not ‘you make me feel.’”
“Fine,” Vivian spat. “I feel like I came down here to surprise my daughter for the first time in years—to meet the grandson I wasn’t even told about on the day he was born—only to be dragged into a therapist’s office like some kind of crazy person. It’s completely out of left field.”
“Out of left field,” Veda repeated dryly.
“Veda, you already know the drill. Vivian is speaking, and her voice is important.”
“Please tell her something she doesn’t already know,” Veda said.
Vivian scoffed while shooting a look at Veda. When she saw Veda’s entire body was still turned away from her, she followed suit, turning hers away too.
Even with her body angled away, Vivian craned her arm back to motion to Veda. “You see? You see how she treats me? Like I’m some sort of monst—”
“I feel…” Dr. Marshall spoke softly.
Vivian’s jaw clenched as she ground her teeth. A long silence falling in as she willed the stomach to repeat the good doctor. “I feel like I can’t do anything right with her.”
“You can’t do anything right?” Veda roared, leaning on the arm of the couch while shooting a sour look at her mother.
“Veda, Vivian’s voice is just as important as yours.”
Veda collapsed back onto the couch, crossing her arms tight and biting her tongue.
Vivian went on. “I feel like she doesn’t give me any credit. Like she doesn’t understand that, if I hadn’t given birth to her, busted my ass to raise her, taught her to love books and to love learning… she’d never be in the position she’s in today. Her father worked twenty-four seven to keep food on the table. He wasn’t around. I’m the one who raised her. I’m the one who made sure she kept her grades up. I’m the reason she made it to Chapel Hill and then Stanford. That was all me! But I feel like none of that matters. I feel like I get no appreciation. No gratefulness for being her guiding light. A guiding light that led her to her fiancé. The handsome, caring, filthy rich man who just walked out that door. A man she’d have never landed if not for me teaching her the ways of the world. She’s indebted to me but behaves as if it’s the other way around. Where’s the gratefulness? Sometimes I’m terrified it’ll never come.”
A moment of quiet fell after Vivian had finished speaking.
On her side of the couch, Veda was doing everything in her power not to laugh, knowing it would only drag the misery on ten times longer.
Dr. Marshall took a deep, heaving breath before moving her eyes to Veda. “Veda, are you hearing Vivian’s fears?”
Veda slammed her eyes closed for a long moment before opening them and looking vacantly toward the small Christmas tree in the corner of the room.
“Yes,” Veda mumbled.
“Is Vivian right?”
“No.” She laughed.
“Do you have any fears, Veda?”
Veda didn’t waste a moment. “I fear that, for the rest of my life, my mother is going to conveniently forget the way she gave up on me when I was at my lowest. Right before sending me to Colorado to live with my grandmother. My grandmother, the real woman who uplifted me. The real woman who helped get my grades up after they’d fallen into the toilet. The real woman who dug me out of the very trench that my own mother threw me into in the first place. My real guiding light was her—not you.” Veda jammed a finger at Vivian, a gasp lifting her chest the moment those words left her lips as if she herself was just as shocked by them as the two other women in the room, both of whom were gaping at her.
“Vivian?” Dr. Marshal moved her eyes back to Vivian. “Do you hear what Veda is saying?”
For a long moment, Vivian just stared at Veda.
Veda felt her eyes searing into the side of her head but refused to look back.
“Yes,” Vivian’s whispered voice came.
“And what is Veda saying?”
“She’s saying that her grandmother taking care of her at the tail end of her senior year in high school is the same as me taking care of her for her entire life,” Vivian cried, her voice trembling. “I feel that’s extremely unfair.”
“Veda, do you hear—?”
“Unfair?” Veda spat before Dr. Marshall could finish, shifting her body on the couch to face Vivian. “I’ll tell you what’s unfair, Mom. What’s unfair is a teenage girl taking months to drum up the courage to approach her mother, look her in the eyes, and tell her she’d been raped, only for her mother to call her a liar and toss her away like a piece of trash she’d found stuck to the bottom of her shoe. That is what’s unfair, Mom!”
Even Dr. Marshall found herself wallowing in the thick silence that followed Veda’s words, her own chest rising and falling just as rapidly as Veda and Vivia
n’s.
Veda’s eyes filled with tears as they searched Vivian’s, but when her mother only continued to look back at her silently—her own eyes filled with stunned tears—Veda made a disgusted noise and collapsed back onto the couch cushions. Leaning on the arm of the couch, she pressed two fingers to her temple while looking away once more.
Dr. Marshall swallowed thickly. “Uh, Vivian—”
“Veda, you know perfectly well I would never purposely—”
“I begged you.” Veda shot her eyes back to Vivian just as the first tear popped from her eye and raced down her cheek, her lips curling around her clenched teeth. “I begged you to believe me, and you just… you just wouldn’t. Do you have any idea how long it took for me to find the strength to tell you? To find the strength to look for someone to talk to about it? Do you have any idea what you did to me when you looked me in the eye and called me a liar? When you dropped me off with grandma and told her something was wrong with me? It destroyed me, Mom. So don’t you dare. Don’t you dare sit there and play stupid. Don’t you dare sit there, all wide eyed and bushy tailed like you have no idea what the hell I’m talking about. Like you can’t recall the very conversation that moved you to get rid of me and pawn me off on grandma in the first place.”
“Veda, I… I sent you to your grandmother because you were deteriorating right before your father’s eyes and mine. You—you were bringing home D grades when you’d never seen anything below an A in your life. Getting into fights in school when you’d never in your life thrown a punch. Talking back when you’d never dream of saying a cross word to your father and me before. The week before I sent you to your grandmother, I had to pick you up from the police station for shoplifting and, by the grace of God, was able to talk them out of pressing charges against you. For goodness sake, baby, I didn’t recognize you anymore. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“And not for one second did you wonder why you didn’t recognize me,” Veda spat. “Not for one second did you wonder if my sudden descent into madness, my transformation into a girl you didn’t recognize, had to do with the fact that I’d been hurt, violated, destroyed beyond repair. Beyond recognition. Not for one second—when I looked you in the eye and told you that ten men had raped me at a party—did you think that might’ve been the very reason I was spiraling.” Another tear jetted from her eye as she shook her head softly. “No. You didn’t think any of that. Instead you…” Veda struggled. “You laughed.”
Rouse (Revenge Book 7) Page 25
