Sins of September

by Graysen Blue

  “I did?” Sarah whispers, her eyes tearing up. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember anything. I don’t know why I would’ve done that, but I am sorry.” Her voice cracks and a sob manages to escape.

  “Oh now sweetie, don’t cry,” Ruth says, going over and wrapping her arm around her while flashing me a glare.

  “Dad,” Scout says quietly. “Don’t be a butthead to her.”

  And now I’m the shit for being honest.

  Fuck me.

  I need to set a better example for my daughter at the very least. “Sarah,” I say to her, “I expect you had your reasons. I’m sorry about being so blunt and hurtful. It’s all in the past, so please don’t cry.”

  She nods, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that Ruth has given her. “Thanks for that, Jesse.”

  Scout has wandered into the dining room and spots a puzzle on the table that looks to be in process. “Who’s working this puzzle?” she asks, trying to get everyone’s focus off of me and my spiteful comment.

  “I am,” Sarah replies. “It’s a thousand pieces. Been taking me a while. I started yesterday afternoon.”

  “Can I help?” Scout asks her. “I’m pretty good at these.”

  I see Sarah brighten up at Scout’s offer. She smiles genuinely and that’s when I notice that she has an almost child-like quality about her.

  “Sure, I’d love that, Scout.”

  And so my daughter takes a seat at the table, next to the mother that doesn’t remember her, and they set about to finish the puzzle together.

  “Are you and Scout staying here with us?” Ruth asks.

  “Unless I’m no longer welcome,” I reply.

  “Of course, you’re welcome, Jesse. I just don’t want to spring a lot of the negative stuff on Libby,” she says quietly. “If she never gets her memory back, then what purpose is served in dredging up the dirt? After all she’s been through, don’t you reckon she deserves some peace of mind?”

  I nod, but I’m not at all sure I agree. I don’t have the luxury of amnesia to wipe my slate clean—why should she?

  “What’s the deal with September?” she asks me.

  “She had to work. She said she didn’t have a choice.”

  “I see,” Ruth says, not convinced. I’m not saying any more. It’s not their business.

  “Listen, I’m going to go and get our stuff outta the car.”

  Ruth nods. “I’ve put Scout in Sarah’s room. There are twin beds in there. You can sleep in September’s old room.”

  Fucking great.

  Once outside, I call September’s cell. It goes to voicemail. “Hey there,” I say, “I just wanted to let you know that we got here. Your ma is well—different, but Scout seems to be okay with her, which is good. I love you. And I miss you like crazy. Everything’s going to be fine, September. You need to trust me on that, okay? I’ll try back later.”

  I text her for good measure in case she’s at work and has her phone on vibrate.

  Love you. Check your voicemail.

  We made it through the first night there. Scout is really bonding with Libby—Sarah, whoever the fuck she is these days. Whatever happened to her, did more than give her amnesia, it’s evident.

  I made the mistake of mentioning that to Henry when we were alone after breakfast. Ruth had taken Libby and Scout shopping for clothes. She said Sarah had only some used clothing that wasn’t fit to be used as rags when they brought her back.

  “Henry, it’s obvious to me that there’s something more going on with Libby than just the amnesia . . . her whole personality is . . . different.”

  “Well hell yeah, she’s different. She’s been through a lot. She was damn near dead when they found her.”

  “But you realize there’s more to it. She acts like a child for Chrissake.”

  He gets up and grabs his pipe from the stand, opening the box that contains his tobacco, and filling the bowl of his pipe. His fingers press down on the inside of the bowl, packing the tobacco tightly. “I know that,” he finally says. “When Ruth and I got to the group home where she had been living, we talked to the director. She gave us all the paperwork on Elizabeth, and you’re right, it’s more than the amnesia—in fact, the prognosis is that the amnesia is secondary to the brain damage she suffered from the skull fracture.”

  “Skull fracture?”

  “Yeah,” he replies, lighting his pipe. “She got the best care an indigent, Jane Doe without insurance gets. Hell—they kept her alive and for that we thank our Lord, but she’s got permanent brain damage. The truth is, she’ll probably never be able to live on her own or make her own way.”

  I can see where he’s going with this.

  “I see. I made a commitment to you and to Ruth to put the divorce on hold so that Libby can get the medical attention she needs. But I’m not keeping it on hold indefinitely. You need to understand that.”

  He tenses up and it’s as if his face has turned to stone.

  “Excuse me, son. I didn’t realize that you’d put a time limit on your wife’s recovery. Thought maybe that “in sickness and in health” clause might’ve given you pause for thought.”

  Low blow, Henry. But ineffective.

  “Nothing’s changed. And you know damn well that Libby stopped being a wife the day she walked out on her kids and me. It seems to me that nothing’s to be served delaying the divorce. This might be as good as she gets, have you even considered that?”

  He frowns and takes a long draw on his pipe. “Yes, we have thought of that. But we don’t know anything for sure. She’s got an appointment scheduled next week for a full neurological evaluation, unless you’re fixing to take her back to Fort Smith with you and Scout. I’m sure there are fine neurologists there as well.”

  I’m flipping out that he’s not getting the message. How can I make it any clearer to him without outing September? “That wasn’t my plan,” I reply.

  “Look, Jesse, I understand what Libby did was wrong on so many levels, but the woman she is now, well—it’s nothing like the woman she was when she left. Ruth and I’ve only been with her for a few days, but she’s kind, and gentle. She’s grateful to us, she helps Ruth with everything, and she’s even become a God-fearing Christian. She wants to go to church with us on Sunday. Maybe somewhere in your heart you can find forgiveness. Won’t you try?”

  I put my hands on my face, rubbing the shit out of my stubble. Clearly they’ve planned this agenda. There’s no getting around it. They need to know the truth, and it’s best if I start with Henry.

  “No. I won’t try. I’m not in love with her any longer. I love someone else, and there’s nothing that will make me give her up, because you see, she loves me, too.”

  He raises a snowy white brow and studies me. He didn’t count on this, I can tell. Slowly the realization sinks in as to the extent of what I’ve told him.

  “You bastard,” he hisses, standing up as if he’s going to take me on. “What have you done? Seduced my granddaughter? She’s a child for heaven’s sake!”

  He moves closer, fists clenched, a vein on his forehead popping out.

  Wouldn’t be a smart thing, Henry.

  I’ve got size and youth on my side.

  “She’s a woman,” I correct him. “A woman that I love and that I’m committed to. We love each other.”

  “It’s sick,” he snaps, “It’s unnatural and sick. September’s too young to know how evil this is and to fully understand the depravity of the situation!”

  I move closer to him, in a show of defiance. How dare he stand there judging me?

  “You know, Henry. I considered her youth. And to tell you the truth, I’ve struggled with that. But then I thought about something. She’s nineteen next month. I was only eighteen when I fell in love with Libby, and took her off your hands. You didn’t see anything depraved then, did you?”

  “It’s not the same thing,” he replies. “My God, September is Scout’s big sister. What does she think about her father carrying on with he
r older sister?”

  “It’s not fucking incest. And Scout doesn’t know yet. But I’m gonna tell her soon because it’s not fair to keep her in the dark. Truth be told, September’s been more of a caregiver to Scout than her ma ever was, and it’s about time I do right by her.”

  “You’re not going to marry her, are you?”

  “I’m gonna put her through college first. She’s bright and driven and if she wants a career then I want her to have one. As far as marriage? Hell yes, I want to marry her when she’s ready, if she’ll have me, that is.”

  Henry shakes his head, and I can see my news has sucked the air out of him, along with the plans he and Ruth had for me.

  “I’ll not tell Ruth about this until you and Scout leave. I don’t think she could bear to have you here knowing what I do.”

  He emptied the charred remnants of tobacco from his pipe into the glass ashtray on the coffee table. He left the room and I suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted. It felt damn good.

  All I can think about is going home to September. My life doesn’t feel complete when she’s not close by. It’s like a piece of my heart is missing.

  I go outside and pull my cell out. She’s not returned my call or my text. I try calling her again. It goes straight to voicemail again.

  “Hey babe, are you avoiding me? I’m so fucking sorry that I didn’t consider your feelings in any of this. I’m a shit. Your grandpa knows about us. And when I get home, you and I will sit down with Scout and let her know that we’re a couple, at least I hope that you still want to be. I love you.”

  I text her too.

  I love you September Lynn Dawson.

  Scout and I get through the next couple of days. Henry remains quiet to me, not that he’s ever been all that boisterous. Ruth is the same as always, and Sarah is still kind of shy around me, though I do catch glimpses of her watching me. She and Scout get on real good. They play checkers, and board games, and it’s almost as if Scout has found a new best friend.

  We go to church with them on Sunday, and I’m reminded of what a nice voice Libby has. She always could carry a note pretty well. She’s definitely all about church hymns now. Makes me think I should be getting Scout to church regularly. I make a mental note to do that.

  I’ve not heard anything from September and I’m thinking I must’ve really pissed her off more than I thought. She’s giving me the silent treatment, so I don’t leave any more messages or texts. This is gonna have to be a one-on-one when I get home, and I will do my damnedst to make it up to her.

  Sleeping in her room these past few nights has given me a glimpse of what her life was like those missing years.

  Pictures of a former boyfriend named Todd plastered all over the mirror above her desk. Her high school yearbooks that I flipped through, finding her picture, and noticing how prettier she got every year.

  I saw the books that she enjoyed reading in her bookcase, and some of the poetry she must’ve written pinned on a bulletin board next to the mirror.

  One poem in particular caught my eye.

  Raven hair and eyes of blue; his memory haunts my very soul.

  How could he leave me without a care?

  Knowing that I want to be there.

  I love his power, I love his heart.

  Things just happened; we had to part.

  But maybe someday he will finally see

  How he broke my heart when he set me free.

  Yeah, it’s a little girl’s poem, but it hits me like a ton of bricks. I never fucking knew how much I’d hurt September when I hadn’t taken her back with me. I mean, it had been the right thing to do at the time.

  At least, I thought it was.

  And then as I pack my stuff to leave, I check under the bed for a missing shoe. That’s when I see something shiny in the darkness; my hand feels along the carpet underneath her bed, my fingers making contact with the gold locket necklace I’d given her. Pulling it out into the light, I open it and see my face in the locket. She’d cut it from a snapshot that must’ve been taken years ago.

  When she was just a little girl.

  Fuck. What am I doing?

  Monday morning I make sure that Scout and I are all packed up. This trip has been good for both of us.

  Scout has spent time with her ma, who doesn’t seem like a ma, but they’ve bonded. I’ve had a come-to-Jesus meeting with myself, and I’ve laid the truth on Henry.

  I’ve got everything loaded in the rental car. All that’s left is to grab Scout and say our goodbyes.

  Ruth is fussing over Scout, giving her a bag of homemade cookies to take on the plane. “Now you call Gram when you get home, hear?”

  “Yes, Gram,” she says nodding.

  Henry picks her up and gives her a hug and a kiss. “I’m gonna miss you, Button.”

  “Me too, Gramps,” she says, hugging him back. “Where’s Sarah? I want to say goodbye to her.”

  Libby’s been nowhere around this morning, and to be perfectly honest, I’m relieved. But I understand Scout’s need to say a proper goodbye to her ma.

  “Sarah,” Ruth calls out, “Jesse and Scout are fixin’ to leave. Come down and say goodbye.”

  “Be right down,” she hollers, showing more energy and zest than I’ve observed since being here.

  She descends the staircase, suitcase in hand. “I’m ready, Jesse,” she says, her eyes now showing emotion and happiness. “I’m ready to go home with you and Scout.”

  To the Readers:

  I hope you’ve enjoyed my debut novel, ‘Sins of September.’ For those readers who get pissed off by cliffies, it certainly wasn’t my intention to make you angry, I promise. I mean I have been a reader of fiction long before I thought about writing or self-publishing.

  So, let’s be pragmatic about this. It’s my first work of fiction. If you think about it from my perspective, I think you’ll agree that before I go and spend more time and effort writing a sequel, it might be wise to see if the readers like this one, right?

  I mean, come on! The ARC reviews were all over the place, so that didn’t convince me of the book’s future failure or success.

  And if the book totally flops, then at least I haven’t put all kinds of time and effort into writing a sequel that no one wants to read, right?

  I knew you’d see the rationale in this.

  Besides that, I have no clue until I get reader feedback as to just how the sequel should go. Can you help me with that part?

  I’m serious! I want to please the readers who actually liked/loved Sins of September! I owe you, right?

  So, how should it play out?

  Do you think Libby/Sarah is faking all of that amnesia nonsense?

  Do you think Jesse will bend and let her come home with him and Scout?

  What do you think Jesse’s reaction will be when he realizes that September has left?

  Do you think Jesse really loves September? Or do you think she was just a surrogate for her mother, the only woman Jesse admitted to truly loving with all of his heart?

  Do you want Jesse and September to have an HEA?

  At any rate, you all will be the catalysts for my decision to write Book 2.

  What do you think about calling it, ‘When September Ends’?

  About the Author

  * * *

  Graysen Blue, is a stay-at-home mom, who has previously self-published children’s book under a different pen name. She graduated with a degree in Economics from Princeton University.

  She was born in the U.K., but currently resides on the West Coast with her husband, Michael, and her young daughter, Scout.

  If you’ve enjoyed her debut novel in YA/NA romance, please leave a review on Goodreads and Amazon.

  A sequel titled, “When September Ends” is in the works and will be released pending favorable reviews for “Sins of September.”

  Table of Contents

  * * *

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1<
br />
  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  About the Author