BOMAW Vol. 10-12 (47 page)

"What?! Why?"

"Because his family, his mother, as you know, does not like that I'm black. Instead of him standing up for me, and not attending either, he would lie to me, say he was going somewhere else and I'd find out later, he's gone to the family outings without me. Sometimes he took the boys, but never me. Do you know how that made me feel? What did his family think of me, that I wasn't even worthy of him standing up for me? What else could they think?"

Sylvia couldn't believe what she was hearing, she wasn't sure what to think about all of that. "Baby, I know that it's not right, that it had to hurt you, what he's done - but - no one is perfect Crystal, no one. As bad as things may have seemed, I still think that he loves you."

Crystal was quiet a moment, then looked at her mother once more, "Mama, I'm not so sure he ever did. I've been doing a lot of thinking. Remembering. Sometimes when I think, I think about what I've done to us, and I feel so much regret. But lately, I'm remembering the things he's done."

"You mean, lately since Ben."

"Okay, fine ... yes, since - Ben."

"Said that way, doesn't sound like just friends to me."

"Mama, we are! It's just that, like you said that day at home when I cried until I thought my head would explode over Victor, life goes on! You were right mama, life does go on. I'm beginning to think, that his leaving me that day he walked away and didn't come back, was the best thing that could have happened to me. I was just too much in love with this image of what being married to him represented. I felt then, that I had failed, when in fact - we both failed. Maybe it was because, we don't mesh, we don't mix, we don't blend, we're not in sync. It's given me time to see, that - well - I - I can live without him. Shawn doesn't like him anymore and though the boys love their father, they haven't asked for him since we've been gone; why do you suppose that is mama? Why aren't my boys crying for their daddy?"

Sylvia leaned up staring at her, "You telling me, you're not in love with him anymore? Is that what you're saying?"

Crystal went quiet thinking about it, "I don't know mama, I was seventeen years old when I met him. Away from home for the first time, exposed to someone giving me attention for the first time and uh - a blonde haired, blue eyed hunk at that. Now that I'm away from him, I'm starting to see things more clearly, even ... things about myself."

"Wow, all this - since Ben huh?"

"It's only because, you know what - with Ben - we - talk - I mean really talk mama. He doesn't talk down to me. He doesn't doubt the things that I say, or the things I want to do. He doesn't make me feel as though I might, somehow not know what he's saying, so he better spare me the discussion. He talks to me as if - we're - equal. He's .... he's encouraging, challenging. And, he's willing to listen to me, takes what I say to heart. Not only that, I can't explain it, but - talking to him, is easy - so easy. He makes me feel, like he's really interested in what I'm saying, I feel..." She paused for thought, looking down at the spread pattern on the bed, then back up at her mother, smiling, "...I feel, natural, relaxed, at ease, I feel ... like - I don't really, have to prove anything to him. And, knowing all that he does about me, he - he thinks that I'm special. He - makes me feel ... special."

"Baby listen to me - can't you see what's happening? You're falling for him."

"No I'm not mama, I'm just learning-..."

"Crystal listen to me, he's slowly, doing to you, what his father - and we know that Shawn is his father - did to me, filling a need that is so powerful, you can't help but fall."

"I'm not gonna fall mama-..."

"Crystal!"

"I'm not mama. We're friends - that's - how it's going to stay. For once in my life, I see what has been missing in it - thanks to meeting him, thanks to you, meeting Shawn. But even so, I know it's too soon to start a new relationship when I'm just coming out of a marriage that I was too young to be in, in the first place. I know I need time, I know I need to heal. Talking to Ben, helps me to heal, we can talk about anything. I mean - he really tries to figure out where I'm coming from; he can relate to so much that I share with him and feels deeply about things that have hurt me - have hurt us, mama."

Sylvia's brows drew close, "What do you mean? What have you told him? Hurt us how?"

"Just little things, just stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Sylvia dug.

"I don't know..." Crystal stood from the bed, walking to the window to look out.

"Crystal, you do know, what kind of things?"

"Just - things about - well - our past, things about - him - Armundo."

"Your father." Sylvia corrected her a second time.

The look Crystal turned and gave her, sent chills up Sylvia's spine. "What stuff about Armundo Crystal?" She asked suddenly.

Crystal looked down to the floor, then back to the window, wishing she'd kept that part to herself now. "Nothing of any significance mama, just little stuff."

"Crystal, you said, things that have hurt you - hurt us. What did you mean? What stuff did your father do to hurt you?"

Putting on a fake front, Crystal shook her head smiling as she turned back to her mother, "You already know everything mama, just the way he was sometimes, it's no big deal."

Sylvia sat staring into her eyes, "Then why did you tell Ben? If it was no big deal, it wouldn't have been worth sharing. I wanna know what was a big enough deal, that it hurt you, that it made you tell Ben."

Crystal laughed awkwardly, "Mama chill, no biggie, I don't really wanna talk about him."

"Your father."

"Yeah, him ... I better go check on the boys." She changed the subject walking to her mother, leaning down she kissed her brow, "Remember, I'm fine, don't worry - I promise to be careful."

"Why are you rushing away? Avoiding talking to me about your father?"

Crystal stopped in the doorway, "Mama look, I love you. We're living an entirely different life now from back then. Let's just - embrace today, okay?"

Sylvia's eyes grew in intensity as they tried to penetrate her daughter, "I wanna know - how your father - hurt you Crystal - I wanna know."

"God mama! Okay fine, its not a big deal, but - he - he didn't like me mama - you know that right?"

"He was your father, what do you mean, he didn't like you. I know he wasn't exactly father material but -..."

"Mama - Armundo Payne - did not - like me."

Sylvia swallowed, gulped more like it; her stomach felt queasy suddenly as she faced things from their past, now that she was rested and no longer under that shadow of stress from being married to him put her through, she could see and wasn't so sure, she wanted to.

"How ... how can you ... say that, what - makes you say that? Was it, something he said, something - he - did?"

Crystal felt her heart taking off in her chest, her ears started ringing with her unease.

"Crystal?"

"Yes, mama."

"Yes what? What did he say, what did he do to you?"

Crystal eyes widened a bit from nerves, staring at her mother, knowing that she was pregnant, very emotional and sensitive about that time in their lives. Her ears popped as if she were going up in an airplane, wondering how did she get them into this type of discussion, the last type that she wanted to be in with her mother.

"Tell me Crystal." Sylvia nudged even though she felt shaky, frightened by what she might hear.

"Come on mama, we're having a good time. Let's not bring it down."

"Why won't you tell me? Is it that bad?"

"I'm gonna go check on the boys, they're out there with Ben and Angela." She disappeared from the doorway.

Sylvia charged to the door, "Crystal!"

At the top of the stairs she stopped with her hand on the banister's ball cap, "Let it go mama. Okay? Please ... just let it go." Then rushed down the stairs to end it.

Sylvia stood feeling strange from within. Her mind automatically started trying to go back and she fought it, forcing it back to the present. Back to the present and away from all those ugly years. They were after all, in the past, and as Crystal stated, they were all in a better place and a better time now. She left the room with the mental battle raging, refusing to give space for it, after all - she had things to do. Dinner had to be cooked. Yet, her mind continued to fight her, trying to spin her backwards in time where she didn't want to go, where she didn't want to be. She forced herself to think about what she was doing. She entered her incredibly beautiful kitchen. It was large, well laid out, fresh and clean and new. This was her life now, this was her reality now. She walked to her silver, stainless steel front, new double door refrigerator with its water and ice dispenser in the door, and opened it to remove all the fresh vegetables, the meat she would be cooking for dinner that night. With all in hand, she turned from the fridge and stood as her mind drew a blank. She didn't know what she was supposed to be doing next and stood until her mind told her. She heard one of the kids scream out in laughter. Placing the meat into the sink, she slowly walked to the double sliding doors that lead out to the swimming pool.

Her lost, sad eyes focused on each of their faces, they were filled with joy and laughter. Crystal was laughing, standing in the water, splashing Angela, then Ben. Isaac was on her back, Darren on Ben's. She stood watching them, watching her. Watching Crystal, until her mind flashed back to her as a baby in her arms, a 3 year old held on her hip, an 8 year old hugging her and pleading with her about something, what, she couldn't remember, an 11 year old, sad, angry. A 14 year old, contemplative, weary, angry. Always, always wanting to be anywhere, but at home. The present Crystal came back into focus, she looked and saw her mother standing there, she waved at her, threw her a kiss, happy and smiling.

Sylvia gave a slight wave back, a slight smile, her heart rhythm a bit off. Her mind saw Armundo, a flash of him when she first met him, all smiles and charm, attentive, speaking to her in Spanish sometimes, so romantic, speaking to her in English. She shook her head to be free of thoughts of him. She didn't want to think about him. Her heart was really doing crazy things in her chest, on and off, messing with her breathing. She stepped away from the door, making her way to the kitchen center island, wondering where was Shawn with Mundo. She wanted him to come home now. She wanted to see him, see the man that was her husband, now, today. She wanted to hear his voice, see his face, feel his hands touching her, know the strength of him as he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight, her stronghold, her rock.

A whimper escaped her, her hands flew to her mouth as a low keening cry seeped from between her lips. She covered her mouth, pressing her lips tightly, trapping it. "No." She spoke the single word out loud and then instantly got control of herself as if the moment never happened. Shaking her head, she made her way back to the sink, un-packaging the meat to wash it before she seasoned it to start cooking; determined to get busy and not let the past get in the way. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't concentrate, she couldn't focus her mind on what she was doing, she couldn't get it to stop going back. She kept seeing her young daughter, kept seeing all the times when she felt unease with leaving her alone with Armundo. Kept seeing all the times when she came to her, "Mama, let's go to Sheila's - I don't wanna be here." - her mind kept playing all the times she lay in bed trying to get some sleep when he was in the house with her kids, her daughter, and for no reason, she would spring to her feet to find him, find them, find her. Instinctively, she knew, knew that he was not to be trusted.

It happened again. That small keening cry escaped once more, and once more, she caught it, trapped it, squelched it. Wiping her hand over her face, she shook her head as if to erase her mind. She laid the meat on the counter, took out a large, sharp knife to cut the ribs apart and saw in its blade, Armundo standing outside of her daughters bedroom door. "What are you doing?" She asked him quietly on one of those occasions when she felt compelled to check on her kids. "Going to the bathroom, I was just checking the kids." He answered her sharply as if resenting her asking. He turned away heading for the bathroom. She opened the door, looked in at her daughter, she was fast asleep. Sylvia shook her head again, started cutting the meat apart. As she did so, her brain scrambled back in time when she might have not been around - where she just might have, missed something.

"My daughter hates you Armundo. She doesn't even wish to recognize you as her father ... why? Why?" She asked in an anguished whisper. Suddenly with the knife gripped in both hands, the tip down, "What have you-..." She stabbed the meat, and then stopped herself, holding the knife handle to her mouth, trying to gain control, yet another stab to the meat, "... what have you done? What have you done? What have you done?!" Each anguished question was punctuated with a stab to the ribs. Sylvia dropped the knife in the sink realizing what she was doing. She leaned onto the kitchen counter, breathing hard, fighting back tears. "Why won't you tell me? Crystal ... why won't you ... tell me? Oh my God ... please please please please please - not my daughter, not mine." Her mind could not help but launch horrific possibilities. Not knowing, was ten times worse than knowing, because her imagination was giving her the worse case scenario. She remembered Shawn coming home from their first anger management meeting - mad - at - her! She was remembering so clearly now.

-Shawn sat up staring at her, "He abused those kids! He was an absolute, piece of shit, bastard to that little girl in the other room. Why didn't you leave him?"

"And go where?"

"Sheila and Dennis? What about them?"

"What about them? I went to them enough! My children and I, were not their responsibility! My life, my problems, my children and protecting them was my job!"

"One that you were ill equipped to do!" Shawn snapped.-

She couldn't stand it any longer, she needed to know. She marched to the double glass doors - about to slide it open.