Man, did that guy make my skin crawl.
"Then what did you do?" Brandon asked.
"I waited for Miranda to come down. I figured I would see it in her face if something happened. She came down, and I asked her if anything happened, and she said no. I asked her why she changed, and she said it was hot outside. She was going over to Troy's to play."
"But you didn't let her go. Why?"
"I don't know, I didn't want her anywhere near that kid again."
"Sweetheart, we didn't move because of what happened to you. My job transferred me to Seattle. We were moving anyway. We just hadn't told you yet."
Mom continued, "A couple of days later, we went over to Bill and Dana's house and asked them if Scott had any problems. Dana became upset, and she told Bill she didn't want him in her house. They'd been fighting about it for a while. She told us Scott had made some inappropriate comments to her, things a son shouldn't say to his stepmother."
"Bill refused to believe it. We made the decision; we didn't want you to be exposed to that environment," Dad said.
"Knowing how close you were with Troy, there's no telling what Scott was teaching him. We didn't want to risk Scott or Troy doing something to you."
"Troy would never hurt me," I yelled, "and, as far as Scott goes, you were a little late, Mom."
"What do you mean?"
I looked at Brandon for some help. He nodded, encouraging me. She thought if anything had happened, it was the first time. She had no idea it was the last time.
"The first time"—my voice was so quiet, the contrast from my last outburst sucked the air out of the room—"Scott touched me I was eight."
I grabbed Brandon's hand, and he held it tight, keeping me grounded, because I didn't want to float away. I wanted to get as far away from this scene as I could. My dad was yelling at my mom, "Look what you did to my daughter, " and Mom sobbed and yelled at Dad for never being home and not spending enough time with me. It was surreal. Dad stood up, and then Mom stood up, and they moved in a fucked-up, hostile dance around the room, screaming at each other. The first and last time they fought like this was right before we moved.
I looked at Alaina and noticed a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. I couldn't blame her. My mom had always put her down for not having it all together. She found some weird satisfaction in watching Mom's dysfunction on display.
It went on like this for a few minutes. I looked to Brandon to step in and stop them.
"Okay, okay, please, everyone. Calm down," Brandon said. "Mr. Preston, Mrs. Preston, please have a seat."
Dad sat down, but Mom remained standing staring out the window.
"Remember, we are here to help Miranda." He turned to me. "You want to tell them?"
I shook my head no.
"Or maybe they could ask you questions?"
I shook my head yes.
"We don't need details," Dad said, but Mom interrupted him.
"How many times did it happen?"
"It's hard to say. It was small, minor things at first. He'd hug me too tight or brush up against me. I'd sit on his lap, and he'd kiss me and stuff." I had my head down, but the more I spoke, the more I raised it. I wanted to see the look on my mom's face when I told her what Scott did to me. "Then, three times were more..." I didn't know what word to use.
"Major," Mom said.
"Yes."
Mom cleared her throat and came back to sit down, "That last time, was that major?"
I nodded my head.
"Did he rape you?" Mom asked.
"Marianne," Dad said as he faced my mom with his fist clenched, pleading with her to shut up.
I looked at Brandon. I didn't know how to answer. I turned back to Mom, trying to see if I could tell which answer she wanted to hear.
"Mrs. Preston, why is that relevant?" Brandon asked.
"I don't know."
"You asking that question makes me think you feel the sexual act is of relevance here, and it's not. It's Miranda's state of mind. Ten-year-olds are not mentally capable of consenting to sex. Legally or physically. Miranda did what she did because Scott told her to."
"It's not how I meant it."
"What did you mean?" I said.
"I don't know."
"You want to know what he did to me."
"Yes," Mom said quietly.
"Dad?"
"No." He couldn't look at me.
"Mr. Preston, it's okay. Why don't you and Alaina wait outside for a bit?"
I nodded and smiled at Dad.
He looked at me grateful and walked out the door.
Alaina followed.
***
I told my mom everything I could remember. I told her about the kisses and the touches, the wrestling match, and the sprinkler incident. I told her what happened the last time and continued by telling her how it affected me when we moved and what happened in high school. I didn't talk about Troy, though. I kept that to myself.
When I finished, although lightheaded and tired, my mind was quiet for the first time in a long time. The sense of impending doom went away. This time for good, I hoped.
"Mrs. Preston, do you have any questions for Miranda?"
Mom shook her head.
"Miranda, I'm so proud of you," Brandon said.
Mom started crying again.
"What's wrong?" I asked. I couldn't hide my annoyance. Again, she was making it about her.
Didn't she hear Brandon's rules?
"Miranda, why don't you go get your dad, give me a minute with your mom?"
I found Dad and Alaina huddled in the waiting room. They stopped talking as soon as they saw me.
"Brandon wanted to talk to Mom for a second."
"Did you tell her?" Alaina asked.
"Yeah, it's cool."
Dad stood up and hugged me. It seemed to be all he could think to do.
"Dad, its okay, I'm fine."
"I know. I wish we hadn't made it harder for you."
"Why don't we go back in?"
"I'm going to stay out here," Alaina said. Dad and I walked back to Brandon's office.
When we came back in, I found Mom and Brandon standing up near the window talking in low tones.
Brandon waved us in.
Dad and I sat on the couch and Mom and Brandon came back to the chairs. Mom wiped the tears from her eyes.
I sat back and waited for someone else to speak first. I'd done what I needed to do.
"Where's Alaina?" Mom asked.
"She's waiting outside."
"You talk to Alaina about this?"
"Yes."
"And, what's this about Troy, does he know?"
"I don't want to talk about Troy."
"Why?" Mom said.
It pissed me off that she now felt she had the right to know everything.
"Because it's not an issue I choose to focus on this week. I'll save it for another time." I cocked my head to the side and smirked at Mom.
"Miranda—"
"Miranda, perhaps you mom isn't used to your sarcastic witticisms to avoid subjects you don't want to talk about."
"Oh, I'm used to them. I just don't like them." We all smiled. We needed some levity in this situation.
"Is there anything else you'd like to share with your parents?"
"No, really, I'm good. This was good."
Brandon looked at me like he didn't believe me.
"Okay, it was nice to meet you both," Brandon said. "I want you both to know that you have an amazing daughter, and I'm here to help her in any way I can."
"Well thank you," Dad said. He stood up and shook Brandon's hand.
Mom did the same and headed toward the door.
"I'll meet you guys out there in a minute."
***
When they left, I collapsed back on the couch. I rubbed my forehead, but the image of Troy wouldn't disappear. I hate that she brought him up.
Brandon sat next to me. "You okay?"
"I miss Troy."
"I figured that's where we lost you. Have you talked to him at all?"
"Not since I walked out."
"Do you want to talk to him?"
"More then anything, but I can't."
"Why?" Brandon said.
"Because I can't bear to hear the disappointment in his voice. I can't take seeing the look of shame in his eyes. I can't handle him looking at me and thinking about what Scott did."
"Miranda, you can handle anything."
"You're supposed to say that."
"Okay, would you rather I say you can't handle it? You're going to fail. Start getting used to being alone forever."
"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"
"Maybe, but if it gets you to understand you have choices besides the worst-case scenarios, I'll feel better anyway."
"Yeah, well, it is all about you isn't it," I said.
"Get out of here."
"Oh great, you open this can of worms with my mom and leave me to deal with it."
"You can handle—"
"Shut up." I stood up... with a smirk. "I thought you were going to get all over them about not dealing with this back then."
"I was, but when I met them, I didn't realize how sensitive this was for them too. It wouldn't do any good."
"What did you say to my mom when I left?"
"I basically told her, you were never going to be the dream daughter that she wants, so she might as well start appreciating the one she's got."
"You think she listened?"
"Honestly, I don't know."
"Well, thank you." I gave him a hug. "For everything. Merry Christmas."
"You're welcome. Merry Christmas. Call me if you need me. I'll see you after winter break. And Miranda."
"Yeah." I looked back.
"Think about talking to Troy again. For your own sake, not his."
"I'll think about it."
***
I guided Alaina to the parking lot across from the dorm, and we got out and walked around.
"This is the music building." I headed to the door and punched my number in the keypad.
"You can get in anytime you want?" Dad asked.
"Yeah, well, they won't let me have a piano in my dorm room."
We walked down the corridor and through the admin offices to the practice rooms. As we passed, I noticed Mr. Davidson sitting in his office.
"Wait here for a minute."
I knocked on his glass.
"Miranda, what are you still doing on campus?"
"I was about to ask you the same." He stood up. "My parents are here. They flew down to surprise me. You want to meet them?"
"Love to."
"Mom, Dad, Aunt Alaina," I said, "this is Professor Davidson. Professor, this is Marianna and Harry Preston, and my aunt, Alaina Preston."
"Pleasure to meet you," Professor Davidson said and shook everyone's hand. "Welcome to UT."
"Thank you," Dad said.
"Thank you for looking after our daughter," Mom said.
"Miranda looks after herself. She is one student I don't ever have to worry about. She has an amazing talent and is a focused student."
"I didn't even tell him to say that." We all laughed.
"I mean it. Now if I can get her to play with others, she will be a well-rounded musician."
"You had to slip that in there."
"Yes, I realize you picked the piano because it can be it's own band, but it plays well with others too."
I noticed my mom's strange expression when he said this. Like now my behavior in high school made sense to her.
"Point taken." Professor Davison could have kept the commentary to himself. "I'm going to show them around."
"Nice to meet you, and Merry Christmas." I ushered my parent into the hall and looked back at Professor Davison giving me the head nod.
I showed them my practice room and then some of the other buildings on the way to my dorm. When we arrived at my room, I half expected Darcy to be sitting on the bed where I left her this morning. I missed her already.
We cleaned our room this morning, but photos of Troy and me covered a corkboard next to my bed. Mom took her time studying it, but she didn't ask me about them. I imagined she'd never seen me like that. The intimacy conveyed in the photos leaped off the page. It was a series of photos Darcy took for a photography class. She called it "The Anatomy of a Kiss. "
"The two of you always looked adorable together," Mom said. "Dana and I talked about how cute it would be if our kids ended up together. Even at six years old, Troy always looked out for you."
"Have you talked to her?" I asked.
"We never spoke after we moved. I think she was embarrassed and ashamed."
"No different than the rest of us," I said.
"This is Darcy?" Dad held up a photo.
"Yeah, isn't she beautiful?"
"She is." Dad put the photo down and took a seat on my bed. "I'm glad you're making friends."
"I figured out I actually do like people." I turned on my laptop, and a photo of the whole gang popped up on the screen. It was taken after a game at Troy's house.
I identified each one.
"This is Todd and David, Troy's roommates, and Ryan, Troy's best friend and other roommate. Stacy is Ry's girlfriend. Kayla is Todd's girlfriend. Then this is Brooke and Becca; I met them during orientation. Darcy, Troy, and I."
I stared at the photo, blinking back tears.
"Nice-looking group," Dad said.
I realized not only had a lost Troy, I’d lost my group, too. It was all connected, and it would never be the same.
***
I spent the next week and a half in the dorm while Mom and Dad stayed with Alaina. I headed over there around lunch each day, and we sat around watching movies, exploring Austin, and avoiding topics that might require another visit to Brandon’s office. The time with my parents got better each and every day, and by the time Christmas came around, my mom stopped tearing up when she looked at me. That was progress.
The day after Christmas, they were heading back to Seattle. Before we left for the airport, Mom and I took a walk.
"You okay?" I asked first.
"I'm better than before," she said. "It looks like you have a nice life here."
"I do."
"And perhaps when you're ready, you will speak to me about Troy, unless it's really over."
"How about we save that conversation for when I come home to visit?" She seemed to be satisfied with that answer. "You should call Dana."
"And say what?"
"Say hello. Tell her you miss her. If you think she blames herself, tell her I'm okay."
"Have you seen her?"
"No, her and Troy aren't that close." Again, stemming from the actions of Scott Anderson. "Troy blames her for sending his father away."
"I bet Troy is starting to understand a lot about what happened. Maybe he will start to realize it wasn't her fault. Maybe they can work it out too."
"Maybe."
"I am sorry about what happen to you and how we handled it. More than anything, I hope you realize how strong you've become and what an amazing women you turned out to be."
"Thanks, Mom."
"I love you."
"Love you, too."
***
We dropped my parents off at the airport, and Alaina drove me to campus. Darcy threatened to come down and get me if I didn’t show up by New Year’s Eve. Which left me a couple more days in the dorm to enjoy some alone time and unlimited access to a practice room. By the end of the week, I was so ready to get out of town.
As I left the music hall the afternoon before my flight and turned my phone on, it beeped and rang at the same time, disturbing the peace of the empty campus. Students weren’t expected to return to class for another couple of weeks.
I didn't recognize the number on the caller ID. I figured Darcy was calling to make sure there were no more delays.
I enjoyed the solitude on campus, but a change of scenery would do
wonders for my brain.
"Hello?"
"Miranda." I didn't recognize the frantic voice at first. "Thank God, I've been calling and texting you for the last two hours."
"Ry?"
"Yeah, listen, you haven't seen or heard from Troy, have you?"
"No, I assumed he was in San Antonio."
"He was, but he left and I haven’t heard from him or talk to him in three days. His phones disconnected.”
I knew what he was asking me before he even said it. I couldn't. I couldn't see Troy right now. I'd spent weeks getting over him by not having to see or talk to him. I'd have to face him at some point, but not now. It was too soon. The thought of seeing his striking green eyes gave me a chill, but not in a good way. No matter what Brandon said, I couldn't handle it. Not now, maybe not ever.
"I'm sure he's fine," I said.
"Scott killed himself."
I stopped in my tracks. My heard began to beat out of my chest. Oh no, here I go again.
"What?" I said it so low, I wasn't sure he heard me, but he did.
"Scott's dead. He shot himself in his apartment as the cops were outside."
"What happened?" I didn't want to know the answer. "Why?"
"I don't know all the details, but he beat up some girl outside a bar and hurt her pretty bad."
"The cops?"
"They were coming to question him, and he shot himself."
"Does Troy know?"
"Yeah, his dad told him, and he left. He was the last one to talk to Troy."
"Oh my God."
"You have to go check on him."
"Ry, I can't—"
"Yes, you can. You have to."
The anguish in his tone caused tears to spring to my eyes.
"Please?" he said.
"Okay."
He let out a breath. "Good, good. Call me when you see him and if I need to come up, I will."
"Okay, I'll call you back soon."
I tested my legs before walking. For the first time since I arrived on campus, I wished I owned a car. The ten-minute walk to Troy's house felt like the longest walk of my life. With every step, I had to talk myself into taking another and another until I reached his street. I don't think Ryan realized what he was asking me to do, or maybe he did, but with the news of Scott, I had to make sure Troy was okay.
Another New Life Page 18
