CHAPTER 23
THE FEW YEARS SOPHIA and I lived in Cypress were the best we had experienced in a very long time. I finally felt that life had calmed down a bit. I was feeling better emotionally and I was more confident in myself. Sophia was thriving, doing well in school and was back to the girl she had once been, making choices every day to stay on track. We laughed together a lot, and the conflict we once had was now gone for good. She also had met a boy her first year back, a boy who would end up changing her life.
Harrison was a bit younger than Sophia, he treated her with love, kindness, respect and patience; something she had not experienced from a boy before. He would soon become like a son to me. Most of all, Harrison helped Sophia to heal from her past, and I credit him for turning her life around.
I reinstated my real estate license and was busy building my business since I did not have Dawson full-time. I was meeting new people and loved being able to see my family, who all lived close by. Best of all, I was getting more sleep than I had in years. I truly believe it was fuel for how happy and strong I was feeling.
Sophia and Greg were finally starting to rebuild their relationship, and naturally I had a new man in my life. Kenny was a successful executive in the insurance industry, and we hit it off immediately. He was tall with sandy-blond hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and a strong, confident personality. I liked how he would take charge in situations, and he was great at planning a fun date night. Shortly after we started dating, however, I broke up with him after a month over a couple of misunderstandings, but it was enough to make me want to move along. I was working hard at not allowing myself to fall for someone that might not be right for me.
A few weeks after the breakup, he called me out of the blue and asked for a second chance. I agreed and things took off once again. We also agreed to take things slow and to enjoy dating with no quick engagements or spontaneous marriages, like we had both done in the past. Another big step in the right direction for me.
Kenny had two wonderful teenage daughters who I adored, he got along well with my girls, and he seemed to care about Dawson. His girls had been through some tough times as children, and I was grateful to be a positive figure in their lives. His youngest daughter, Sabrina, absolutely adored Dawson, which melted my heart. His oldest daughter, Sandy, was the kind of daughter any parent would wish for, and she had her act together more than any teenager I had ever met. Both of them were kind and accepting of my family and me, and I realized I had something pretty special going on.
By this time, Brenna had married her high school sweetheart, Robby, and moved to Savannah, Georgia, after he joined the military. Hayley was loving her life in Austin with her boyfriend, who is now her husband, along with a busy work and social life. Things seemed to be heading in the right direction, and the drama of the last few years was finally becoming a distant memory.
Hayley chose this part in the story to give her point of view on the last several years. Just like it had when I read Brenna and Sophia’s words, my heart broke in two. The last thing any mom wants to hear is how much their child was hurt by your actions and how much it had affected her during her college years. But this story is all about real life stuff, even if it was hard for me to accept just how much I screwed up.
As I entered my freshman year at The University of Texas, life was beyond perfect—I had gotten into the school I had dreamt about attending my whole life, was living in a dorm with girls that immediately became my soul mates and was incredibly happy with who I was and where I was going.
A few months into college, I remember getting a call from my mom just before Thanksgiving. My friends and I were getting ready to go to a day party when I picked up the phone to my mom sobbing. Through tears and gasps for breath she told me that my dad had been having an affair with Amanda, her best friend. I immediately hopped in my car and drove the very short, 20 minutes home.
My mom and I pored through phone records, and I called the ten consecutive outgoing 512 numbers occurring around midnight from the night he “slept at a friend’s house.”
“Thank you for calling the Four Seasons, how may I assist you today.”
My stomach flipped and my throat swelled up. I had to hang up right away. Fuck.
I dialed the second number.
“Good afternoon! Here at the Hilton our customers always come first!” Fuck fuck fuck.
This is crazy but in an effort to get information I made up stories about a fictitious piece of jewelry left in a room under the name Swindell, asking the front desks if they had found anything. Most of them wouldn’t say but the one that did just so happened to confirm a midnight check in for a Mr. Swindell. The last number on the list was the Holiday Inn Express.
The rest of that day/night was a blur filled with wine, tears and dancing drunkenly in the kitchen to mask our pain. That night I changed my mom to get her ready for bed, helped her wash her face and fed her Advil and a sleeping pill. It was the first of many of those nights where I would become the mom and she would become the daughter.
I think I held my shit together pretty well during that time, always feeling the need to be the strong one for my mom and siblings. While I was strong in front of my family, I often would explode back at school behind closed doors. Alcohol will do that to you sometimes . . . one minute you are having a blast and the next you are bursting with tears, trying to catch your breath and hardly making any sense to anyone around you. It’s incredibly embarrassing looking back . . . always having crying fits about my dad, often turning into tears about my birth father as a cherry on top. I think that’s something I’ve always struggled with . . . appearing to have everything together on the outside, drinking too much and then letting it all erupt. I had a handful of romantic relationships throughout college, every single one ending after cool Hayley left the building and drunk, sobbing, Daddy-issue Hayley appeared.
My dad’s affair was really just the beginning of my family’s crazy rollercoaster. My mom was constantly looking to find comfort and love again in other men, immediately falling into serious relationships with wedding bells around every corner.
Marriage and divorce became the theme of the decade that followed for my mom. There was a pattern with every man that wanted to marry her—They would ask me to get coffee with them, or if I was lucky they would just call me, to tell me that they were going to propose. I always felt like they were expecting me to scream with joy at the sound of the incredible news. In reality I always died a little inside knowing that it wasn’t right and knowing there was nothing I could do about it.
My mom was trying to find her way back to the love of her life and was going about it in all wrong ways. All I wanted was for her to be happy and for us to have a somewhat normal life again.
Dawson was actually doing pretty well, also, and was blessed with amazing teachers in Austin who were committed to helping him be the best he could be. He had learned to communicate a little bit with an iPad for simple requests, like juice and his favorite foods by touching the corresponding picture. His pain was under control for the most part, and he was content both at school and his two homes. He was rarely without his beloved ribbon in one hand and a bowl of Rice Chex in the other. He still could not speak at all, and sleeping through the night was rare; but since I didn’t have him full-time, I stopped feeling like a walking zombie. Once again, proof of how incredibly important sleep is for the brain and a sense of well-being.
About eight months into dating Kenny, the familiar marriage talk started to surface, and I was beginning to feel ready for it. A few of my Austin girlfriends had come down to stay with me for a weekend, and after a few bottles of wine, they actually made me sign a handwritten contract. The contract stated that I would solemnly swear to wait at least two years before getting married again. I signed it. Of course in my head I was not making any promises to wait two whole years; that seemed like forever in my world! I did love their sense of humor, even though they were kind of serious about the “love contract” they
had drawn up. Another wedding would take place, but it wouldn’t be mine.
One afternoon shortly after my friends had gone back to Austin, Sophia was sitting on the sofa playing on her phone while I was in the kitchen making lunch when she suddenly blurted out, “Mom! Dad and Elaine got married!”
I felt like I had just been punched in the gut. I was shocked and I broke into tears. Sophia had just seen a picture that Greg had posted on social media of him and Elaine in an office of the Justice of the Peace.
“Can I see the picture?” I slowly, regretfully asked, as I wiped away my tears.
I wasn’t prepared for how much seeing Elaine in her short lace dress and cowboy boots standing next to Greg would hurt me. Even though they had been engaged for years and living together, I never really thought it would happen. In a way, maybe it was good for me that it finally did; seeing them so happy standing together in that photo made it all too real. After letting it sink in, I finally felt like I could really let go of any hope that one day we would end up back together. He was over me for now, and I needed to accept it. I flipped a switch, I was officially over him. At least I thought I was.
It was not long after Greg’s marriage that I would get married for the fifth time. Of all my marriages other than Greg, I felt confident that Kenny was the right choice and would finally be the one who would last the rest of my life. We had waited over a year, and even though a few red flags popped up here and there, I felt they weren’t anything to worry about. After all, nobody is perfect, including me. I finally realized that I would never love anyone the way I loved Greg, but that I could still be in love, it would just be—a different kind of love.
I also decided it was time to cover up the tattoo on my upper right hip that said “Zeke,” Greg’s nickname. I know it sounds like a silly mental milestone, but in my mind, covering up his name was like my heart was burying him for good. I also learned that Greg had covered up several tattoos that had my name and felt it was time for me to do the same. I decided to make it into a beautiful butterfly, and as Kenny watched, I winced in pain, but was thrilled that I was finally letting go of the past. I’d had the “Zeke” tattoo for almost twenty years, and covering it up was my final farewell to Greg. Tattoo closure.
CHAPTER 24
SHORTLY BEFORE KENNY AND I married in 2015, I sold my house in Cypress and moved into Kenny’s. Sophia had left for college, and I continued to have Dawson part-time. Dawson had adjusted beautifully and enjoyed the long car rides back and forth. Thankfully, the constant yelling that he did had finally stopped for some reason that we will never understand why. This made the entire family happy and relieved. Greg and I were still meeting in Giddings every other week to exchange Dawson, and while I noticed that Elaine rode with him less and less, I didn’t think much about it. I liked how Greg acted when he wasn’t with her. He was more outgoing and chatty with me, much more at ease for the few minutes we would talk in the Buc-ee’s parking lot. Buc-ee’s is a Texas landmark. It’s a huge gas station, famous for their beef jerky and other Texas snacks, and it became our usual meeting spot. If you are ever on a road trip in South Texas, it is a stop you must make.
My marriage to Kenny started off well, but it did feel a little strange moving into the home where Kenny had lived with his second wife. He did let me make some changes, and I was happy to try and make it feel like my home too. We split the cost of fresh paint and updated the kitchen since that is where I spent most of my time, as the kitchen was my happy place. We kept finances separate, and I took care of all my personal expenses such as my car, clothing, and anything else I wanted, while Kenny took care of the house expenses.
It was a good and necessary arrangement since we both had children we were responsible for, although something about it just didn’t feel right. For reasons I can’t explain, I felt there was a certain expectation I needed to live up to. Maybe I was putting that expectation on myself with the added responsibilities of two more kids and a husband. My stepdaughters could not have been any sweeter, and my new in-laws could not have been more welcoming. But again, something just was not right, and I could not figure out what.
It wasn’t long before that old familiar feeling started to surface. The strong personality that I had loved in the beginning was now slowly becoming something I disliked. He would let me know when he didn’t like something I was doing and seemed to challenge any idea I had or decision I had to make, big or small. His idea was always the better idea, and if I didn’t agree with it, I was keenly made aware of it.
I kept telling myself the same thing Greg and I would say years ago, “Take the good with the bad.”
We were just getting settled into living together. It would take some adjustment and patience to get used to my new life and all that was expected of me. But the tension I felt continued to grow.
The few times I brought up my feelings and concerns, it didn’t end well and only left me feeling that I needed to just keep it all to myself, not bring anything up again. I was never physically afraid, but I started to feel uncomfortable in our own home.
I found myself feeling uneasy and anxious at the sound of the garage door opening in the evenings, announcing he was home from work. I knew I should not be feeling that way; after all, he was my husband, and I was in it for life this time. I was going to work hard and get through it. I prayed it was just a phase. The thought of hurting his daughters was something I just didn’t want to think about, so I stuffed all my feelings down deep inside and tried my best to ignore my ever-growing unhappiness and uncertainty.
In May of 2016, I bought a small condo in Austin. I reasoned that it would help with the trips back and forth for Dawson, and I could stay there for long weekends with him instead of bringing him home to Cypress. I found myself really looking forward to those trips to Austin. I found comfort with my girlfriends, as well as time alone with Dawson. I felt like I could breathe there, and my little condo became my hideaway. I knew I could not do it forever, but for the time being, the routine was working for me.
I never told anyone how I was feeling about my marriage to Kenny, not even my dear friends. But my parents started to sense something was very wrong and could see I was not myself. I was spending more and more time at their house when I was home in Cypress, to avoid time at mine. I finally erupted and told them everything I had been holding in. It felt so good to finally tell them as they listened with kind ears and gave me loving words of encouragement, just as they have my entire life, never judging harshly and always wanting whatever made me happy. Yes, my parents truly are the most amazing humans on the planet. Little did I know, I was soon going to learn that my rocky marriage wasn’t the only thing I would need to deal with, not even close.
CHAPTER 25
2016 WAS ALSO FILLED WITH excitement. Greg and I became grandparents for the first time when our grandson, Wyatt, was born. We all traveled to Savannah, Georgia, where Brenna and Robby lived, to be there when she went into labor. It was just the original Swindell family, we were all together without our spouses for the first time since both Greg and I had remarried. Elaine had stayed home with Dawson, so it was just the five of us, and oddly, it felt like no time had passed. Hayley had named us The OG Squad, for the original gangsters. All the girls were in good places in their lives, and the past drama had dissipated. It was such an exciting time for us, and everyone was happy to be together as a real family again. At least sort of a real family.
Did I feel anything for Greg at that time? Maybe a little, but I didn’t get that feeling in return, so I did my best to brush it off and just enjoy the time waiting for our new grandson to be born. We ate dinners together and went bowling, hoping that Brenna hurling a bowling ball down the alley over and over again would jump-start her labor. We did have one false-alarm trip to the hospital, and we all laughed harder than we had in a long time, being silly and taking home videos of us dancing in Brenna’s hospital room. We drove through Taco Bell in the middle of the night after the false alarm and devoured seve
ral six packs of beef tacos, just like old times. It felt good to be with my own people where I could be myself—maybe a little too good.
Wyatt decided to take his sweet time coming into the world. The girls needed to fly back home for school and work, but Greg and I stayed. It was so amazing to be there together during that incredible moment. I will never forget Greg and me standing beside our daughter’s bed as she lovingly held her new son for the first time; our first grandson. I was completely overwhelmed with love. Love for Brenna at how natural it was for her as she held and nursed her baby, love at seeing the perfect little face of this new little life who was my grandson, and a new kind of love for Greg. I remember thinking it seemed like only yesterday when Greg and I were in our own hospital room when Brenna came into our lives. We were so in love back then, and seeing our baby have a baby ignited something inside me that I can’t even begin to explain.
Later that night after leaving the hospital, we had dinner together at the hotel bar, just the two of us. Soon we would both be going home to our own separate lives, and I felt a twinge of sadness that our time in Savannah was over. We chatted easily, laughing about all the events that had happened over the week. We were clearly having a good time together.
Our observant server asked, “Where are you folks visiting from?” assuming we were a couple.
We giggled and said, “Oh, we are not together. We used to be married, but not anymore. We just had our first grandbaby!”
“Well you sure get along well! You don’t see exes having dinner and laughing together very often,” she said with a warm and approving smile.
As we finished dinner, and with a little help of liquid courage, I asked, “So, are you happy being married again?”
I was shocked when he finally said with his head down, “It will never feel like it was with you.”
Rounding Home: A Memoir of Love, Betrayal, Heartbreak, and Hope with an Intimate Look into Raising a Child with Severe Autism Page 17
