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Splendor (Inevitable #2)

Page 22

by Nissenson, Janet


  Ian gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “I’m assuming that due to all your moving around that it was difficult to make friends. Is that why you had no one to help you?”

  “Partly, yes. I was shy to begin with, so it took me a long time to make friends. And just when I’d finally begin to settle in, my mother would uproot us again and I’d have to start over. So there were never any long term friendships, people I could count on. And then, as I got older, I’d start hearing horrible stories about foster care, especially for kids my age. I was afraid that if I approached a teacher or a doctor and told them about my mother that they would separate us – that I’d wind up in foster care and my mother in some sort of mental institution. So I – I began to look after her as soon as I was old enough.”

  “What?” Ian looked and sounded shocked. “How is that even possible, Tessa? How old were you?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe seven or eight. When she was in one of her down phases, I’d try to get her to eat, encourage her to get up and about. I learned early on how to look after myself – fixing meals, getting to and from school, even doing the laundry. I was terrified someone would take me away, Ian. My mother might have been sick, but she was all I had.”

  “Take another sip of your brandy, darling,” he urged. “I’m sure this all must be upsetting for you to relive.”

  Tessa drank a bit more before continuing. “Things got tougher as I grew older and my mother got sicker. When she was manic she’d usually be able to find some sort of job – waitressing, a cashier, a hotel maid. There was never much money, barely enough to keep us going. But when she was down, she couldn’t work, basically just slept most of the day. We – we lived on welfare during those times, sometimes in homeless shelters, sometimes in our car.”

  He visibly paled before drinking down the rest of his brandy. “My God, Tessa. To think of you in a place like that – being homeless. Christ, I want to wrap you up in my arms and never let go of you,” he told her fervently.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said softly. “It really wasn’t as bad as I know it must sound.”

  “No, I’m guessing it was far worse and you’ll never admit to me just how bad it really was,” retorted Ian. “But I won’t press you for more details right now. Go on.”

  Tessa began to twirl a lock of hair between her fingers, betraying her agitation. “As soon as I was old enough I got a job. Fortunately I matured early so I looked two or three years older than I really was. At thirteen I bluffed my way into working at a summer day camp. Some of the kids attending the camp were older than I was. Then I got after school jobs, mostly at fast food restaurants or shops at the mall.”

  “Thirteen. Bloody hell, you were still a child.” He shoved a hand through his hair, mussing it, clearly displaying his distress. “But it’s beginning to sound like you never really were a child.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” she agreed solemnly. “But at least I was able to earn enough to keep us out of homeless shelters. I worked one job after school and another on weekends. My schoolwork suffered even more, but I made sure to pick easier classes that I could keep up with. No calculus or chemistry for me, I’m afraid.”

  Ian hauled her against his side, as though unable to keep from touching her a moment longer. “It doesn’t matter, love. You’re the brightest, most brilliant girl I’ve ever known.”

  Tessa sighed. “I always felt stupid in school. Except in my computer classes. I knew early on that I wouldn’t even try to go to college, and instead worked on improving my computer skills so that I could get a good job. I had always figured on taking care of my mom, you see, hoped that once I graduated from high school and got a real job that I could finally get her some help, get her on the kind of medication that might allow her to have a normal life. But I ran out of time.”

  She started to tremble then, finding the next part of her story the most difficult and painful. She took another fortifying sip of brandy, not even flinching from the burn this time.

  “I had turned sixteen a few months earlier, but had only received my driver’s license two months before,” she continued. “By that time, my mother wasn’t even getting out of bed most days, much less driving the car. We were living in Tucson then, had moved there in January. It was October when it happened – on a Wednesday, of course. Because almost every bad thing that’s happened in my life has been on that day of the week.”

  Tessa hid her face in her hands, struggling to find a way to resume her story. The next part of her tale was by far the most difficult, the most gut wrenching, but it had also been the catalyst that had set so many other things in motion.

  She kept her eyes downcast and fought hard to prevent her voice from breaking. “When I was driving home that evening from work, I could smell the smoke in the air. I pulled up in front of our apartment building and it – it wasn’t there anymore. There had been a fire earlier in the day and the entire building was destroyed. When I got there a fire truck was still on site making sure the flames were under control.” She raised tear filled eyes to Ian, her jaw wobbly. “My mother – she didn’t make it out, Ian. Most other residents weren’t at home at the time, and the few who were heard the smoke detectors and got out. My mother – she was probably too deep inside her dark place to pay attention, probably didn’t even hear the alarms or the sirens or smell the smoke. She was – gone. Everything was gone – our furniture, our clothes, dishes. All I had left were the clothes I was wearing, my purse and school books, and the car.”

  Tears were running freely down her cheeks now as she whispered in a broken voice. “I should have been there with her. I knew how bad off she was, how far into the darkness she’d fallen. I could have saved her, could have - ”

  “Stop it.” He crushed her against him, lowering her head to his shoulder and holding her while she wept. “Hush, love. Don’t do this to yourself. I’m guessing you’ve blamed yourself for years, but it wasn’t your fault. Your mother was very ill from the sounds of it, and you were at work when the fire started. Working to help take care of her, I might add. So stop feeling responsible, Tessa. It was just a terrible accident.”

  Ian continued to rock her gently in his arms, as though she were a child, until her sobs began to subside and she was calm enough to continue telling her story. She didn’t resist when he refilled her brandy glass, and obediently took a swallow.

  “So what happened to you after that?” he prodded gently. “You were what – sixteen? Were you forced into one of those foster homes you had heard awful things about?”

  Tessa shook her head. “No. There was a Red Cross volunteer on site the night of the fire, and she arranged for most of the residents to stay in a motel for a few days. It was pretty confusing that night so no one really bothered to ask how old I was or anything. I stayed in the motel for a week, and the Red Cross arranged for vouchers for stuff like food and clothes. But I knew it would only be a matter of days before someone figured out I was underage and had nowhere to go. One of the girls I worked with on the weekends – Michelle – heard about what happened and convinced her mother to let me stay with them. Michelle was one of the few friends I had, though I didn’t know her all that well since we went to different high schools. But she’d always been nice to me, and I was desperate at that point, so I agreed.”

  “Go on,” encouraged Ian. “What happened then?”

  “I moved in with Michelle, her mother and younger sister. Her mother didn’t seem all that happy to have me there at first, but when she learned she’d get a monthly foster care check that made things a little better. But it was – well, kind of a nightmare living there. The three of them fought constantly – screaming matches, name calling, horrible, awful fights – and they seemed to happen almost every day.” Tessa gave a little shudder. “As sick as my own mother was, she never once yelled at me or called me the sort of terrible names Michelle’s mom used. But I wasn’t even at the house all that much between school and two jobs, and it was better than being homeless.”<
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  “So you stayed there until you turned eighteen?”

  “No.” She gave another shake of her head. “I stayed there for just a few months, until Michelle’s older sister moved back home. Along with her boyfriend and their two small children. Both of them had lost their jobs, been evicted from their apartment, and had no money. So all of a sudden the house – which only had three bedrooms – went from having four people living there to eight. And what had been a nightmare for me became a living hell. Now there were five adults all fighting with each other, plus two screaming kids. Michelle and I had to move out of her bedroom so her sister and her family could use it. I wound up sleeping on the floor of the room Michelle had to share with her younger sister. Even then I kept telling myself it was better than living in my car.”

  The expression on Ian’s face had become deadly serious, his mouth a grimace. “I’m going to assume that wasn’t precisely the case, though.”

  “It wasn’t. The sister’s boyfriend – he was – a real creep, no other way to put it. My skin would crawl from just being in the same room with him, so I made sure I avoided him like the plague. Unfortunately, he was – attracted to me, made some very unwanted advances, said some really disgusting things to me. I was on the verge of leaving the house for good just so I wouldn’t have to see him again.”

  Ian made a low, snarling sound. “If you’re about to tell me that piece of filth touched you - or worse- I swear that I will hunt him down like the animal he is and beat him to death.”

  She laid a hand on his arm, soothing his barely controlled rage. “No. It never got that far. But Michelle’s sister overheard some of the stuff the creep said to me, and she went a little crazy, accusing me of trying to steal him away. Her mother got involved and took her daughter’s side, then basically told me to get out because I was disrupting the household and I couldn’t stay any longer. Michelle tried sticking up for me, but her mother threatened to toss her out, too, so I just left. Believe me, sleeping in my car was an improvement over having to live in those conditions one more day.”

  Ian shut his eyes, and didn’t speak for several seconds, almost as though he were silently counting to ten to keep his rage in check. “Christ. You actually slept in your car, Tessa? There was nowhere else for you to go? Wouldn’t a foster home – no matter how awful – have been a better solution?”

  “I truly didn’t think so at the time, no,” she replied honestly. “I’d read some real horror stories and talked to kids at my school about the kind of homes teenagers were usually placed in – mostly group homes where you lived with recovering addicts or kids just out of juvenile detention. There were other stories, too, about girls who’d been raped or abused. I decided to take my chances on my own.”

  He ran a hand down his face, as if unable to believe what he was hearing. “How did you manage? I mean - ”

  “The school term was still going on so I was able to use the showers in the gym during the week. Weekends I had to – er, improvise some. I did laundry at a laundromat. I qualified for free school lunches and made that my main meal, and just ate what I could afford the rest of the time. I made sure I moved my car around a lot when I parked for the night so I wouldn’t look suspicious always staying in the same neighborhood. And I always parked in good areas that were well lit. The weather in Tucson is pretty warm all year round so being cold at night was never an issue.”

  “God.” He surged to his feet and began to pace around the library. His entire body was tense and almost shaking, and he kept clenching and unclenching his fists, as though he longed to hit something.

  “If it’s any consolation,” she told him meekly, “I only lived that way for about four months.”

  He spun around to face her, his handsome face livid with rage. “Four hours would have been too long for you to live like that. I feel – sick, Tessa. Bloody sick at the thought of you all alone and helpless. Jesus, anything could have happened to you out there. You could have been raped, robbed, murdered.”

  “I know,” she admitted reluctantly. “I never slept especially well those months, was always cautious to make sure no one bothered me.”

  “What changed after those hellish months?” he rasped. “Please, for God’s sake, tell me things got better after that.”

  “They did. And what happened after that was Peter. My hus – my ex-husband. He – well, there’s really no other way to say this. He saved me, Ian. In more ways than you can possibly imagine.”

  Ian refilled his brandy snifter and drank half the contents in one gulp. ”Continue, Tessa. I’m sorry if I seem upset but – Christ, to think of you all alone that way.” His voice trailed off as he shuddered.

  “It’s okay, honestly.” Tessa found it a bit odd that she was the one offering him comfort under the circumstances. But then, she already knew how the story ended.

  “I’d known Peter for a little over a year,” she related. “He and I both worked at Old Navy after school. Well, saying I knew him might have been a stretch. I knew his name, said hello in passing, and spoke to him on occasion when I had a question about something in his department. He was quiet, like me, and very introverted. A real loner.” She was relieved to notice that Ian had stopped his frantic pacing and seemed calmer.

  “Because our shifts at the store didn’t end until late, we usually walked out to our cars together. It wasn’t something he ever offered to do, it just sort of evolved into that. Anyway, one night we got out to our cars and mine had been broken into. Fortunately, anything of value I had was in my purse which I had taken with me so nothing was stolen. But, well, it was all just too much for me to take and I started crying. And of course, it happened to be another Wednesday.”

  “So Peter – he helped you?”

  “He did.” She nodded in assent. “We stopped somewhere for coffee and I told him everything that had happened in the last few months – the fire, living at Michelle’s, sleeping in my car. He didn’t say much, but told me to follow him when we left. We wound up at his house. The house itself was in pretty bad shape, but it was on a big corner lot and there was some space in the back that was sheltered where he told me I could park every night. He figured it would be safer there and he could keep an eye on me.”

  Ian was still frowning. “Why didn’t he just invite you inside?”

  “Because if my life had been difficult, Peter’s had been one of constant torment. His mother was a chronic drunk, a really horrible woman, and he refused to even let me meet her, told me I didn’t need any other negative experiences in my life. He’d sneak me inside when she left the house or was passed out drunk so I could use the shower or bathroom, would bring me food and just sort of look out for me. It wasn’t perfect but at least I felt a little safer and not quite so alone.”

  He leaned back against a low table that held a marble chess set, his feet crossed at the ankles as he sipped his brandy. “And how long did this new arrangement last?”

  “Just a few months. Until Peter graduated from high school and turned eighteen.”

  Ian raised a brow. “What happened then?”

  “He married me.”

  ***

  Ian was damned glad he hadn’t chosen that particular moment to take a sip of brandy because he most certainly would have choked on it. When Tessa had told him rather uncertainly at the restaurant that she wanted to tell him about her past, nothing in the world could have prepared him for all of the terrible things that had befallen her in her relatively short life thus far. But this latest revelation – while certainly not terrible – might have been the biggest shock of them all.

  He stared at her in disbelief. “So exactly how old were you when this marriage took place?”

  Tessa looked down at her lap where she was clasping and unclasping her hands in agitation. “Seventeen,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Seventeen. Why, Tessa? Why couldn’t you have waited until you were a little older? Were the two of you that much in love?”

 
Her gaze flew up to meet his at this question, and she shook her head in denial. “That – that’s not it at all. We rushed to get married as soon as possible so that Peter – so that he could be legally responsible for me. The social worker assigned to my case finally figured out that I wasn’t living at Michelle’s any longer – even though her mother kept cashing the support checks. So Peter offered to get married in order to – well - ”

  “To save you. Yes, I understand now.” Ian heaved a sigh. “So you didn’t marry for the usual reasons, then?”

  “We weren’t madly in love, if that’s what you mean. Peter was kind to me, we became best friends, but it was never a romantic relationship. And we never intended to stay married. Peter had always planned to pack up and leave Tucson as soon as he turned eighteen – too many awful memories there for him. But he stayed – for me – first so I could finish high school, turn eighteen and be considered a legal adult.”

  “And yet you remained married for quite a long time after that.” His curiosity was growing by leaps and bounds.

  “Yes.” She took another sip of her brandy. “Peter enrolled in community college that first year and we moved into a shared rental. That was another disaster. We were in such a hurry to find a place that we could afford that we didn’t bother to find out much about our roommates.” She managed a small smile. “You know how you told me your favorite movie is Animal House?”

  Ian nodded, quite certain he wasn’t going to like where her question was leading. “You aren’t going to tell me your roommates were like the characters in the movie, are you?”

  “Worse. It was the nonstop party house, people coming and going constantly, no privacy, everyone helping themselves to food and things that Peter and I bought for ourselves. We ended up stashing things in our room, buying a padlock for the door, and spending as little time as possible there. We’d signed a lease for a year, couldn’t afford to break it, and didn’t have enough money saved to put down on another place anyway.”

 

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