Charity's Secrets (31 page)

Until
they know what happened, they're all puffed up and pretending it doesn't
matter. It does fucking matter! Both of them are close to breaking down, I can
see it.

I'll
let them do it their way—for now.

We're
in a car being driven the twenty or so miles to their mother's house. We should
be close now. Garrett, with his deeply bruised jaw, is looking much more
agitated and nervous, fidgeting his hand on the arm rest of the door.

I'm
sitting silently between them, noticing every detail.

This
morning when we were getting ready I told Justin that he had to do today as
Justin, but he keeps slipping into his JP persona and I have to keep snapping
him out of it. Our driver was absolutely terrified of him within the first
thirty seconds of meeting us at the airport. Shain was particularly on edge on
the plane as well, sensing the powerful air around his boss.

Somehow,
Justin still manages to make jeans and a t-shirt work like a power suit.

I'm
really not sure how any of this is going to work; one of them, maybe even both
of them, could end up freaking the fuck out, and the whole thing has me sick to
my stomach. I want this over as much as they do, so we can figure out where to
go from here.

We turn
into the development, and Garrett sits himself upright in the seat. "It's
just up ahead at the end of the street." His voice is noticeably shaky.
"I can't believe I'm scared to see my own mother. I grew up in this house
for Christ sake!"

Justin
nervously grabs my hand. He makes it look like it's for my benefit, but we both
know the truth. He squeezes my fingers a little tighter than usual, not enough
to hurt, but enough that I know he's a mess inside.

The car
parks and doors begin to open.

Holy
shit, he's about to meet his mother!

This is
just sinking in.

Garrett
slides out one side and Justin out the other after a slight hesitation.

I've
already met her and I know what they're about to hear, but my pulse is racing uncontrolled
until it becomes a harsh throbbing in my nearly closed throat. My stomach turns
upside down, threatening to spew on to the back of the front seat.

Justin
holds his hand out for me to take. I steady myself as quickly as I can and I
take his hand. As I stand, I look into his face and see a scared little boy who
is terrified of having his heart trampled once again.

My
heart splinters for him.

Garrett
leads the way up the walk looking back for us every other step. I don't believe
it's out of politeness, letting us catch up, it looks more like a fear of going
up alone and he's making sure we haven't left him.

All
three of us gather on the flower-covered porch. We're about to knock when the
handle clicks and the door swings open.

I see
the exact same fear in Nicolette Sumpter's eyes as her sons when her face
appears, a childlike panic.

"Hi,
Mom," Garrett mumbles.

"Hello,
Honey," she replies, already crying. She tries a smile and it falls
ridiculously short.

Garrett
steps slightly to the side and her eyes finally fall on to a trembling Justin.
Her hands fly to her puffy, red cheeks in disbelief that he's here in front
her. I've never seen so much shock in one face. Her tears explode. Several
loud, animal-like gasps burst from her now heaving chest, and her eyes look
loose in their sockets.

I'm
instantly bawling for her.

Garrett's
eyes are glassy as well, having a hard time seeing his mother so upset.

"I'm...so...sorry!
I'm...so—"

Her
body gives out from under her and she falls to the floor in a loud
thump
!
Her legs are sprawled at odd, random angles.

"...so
sorry," she says, unaware yet that she's collapsed and that the only thing
keeping her partially upright is the bottom of her door.

It's
devastating to watch. My heart is not just splintered, it's shattered watching
her turn literally blind with grief, unable to deny any longer the loss of a
son she adored.

All of
us quickly scramble to help her up, but she is a rag doll, her legs simply do
not have the strength to function. Suddenly, Garrett scoops her up into his
arms as if she weighs nothing, displaying that same unbelievable strength
Justin has. His tear-streaked face motions for us to follow him as he carries
her in to her couch.

I grab
Justin tightly. This is not even close to the reunion he must have been
imagining all his life. There was no way for him to know that he was so loved
and missed and he's had barely more than twenty four hours to comprehend that
things might not have been as they had always seemed. I'm sure that right now
he's as emotionally confused as an individual can be and all I can do is offer
him my support.

That
scared little boy is still all I can see, but the need to bend down and help
his mother is fighting with years of hatred.

Nicolette's
eyes are still rolling in her head as Garrett tries to help her. I let go of
Justin and place my hand on Garrett's shoulder, hinting for him to let me try.

He
moves as I kneel in front of the couch, grabbing her face in my hands gently.
"Nicolette, honey, you can do this. It's time they know." Her eyes
fix on me. "It will be okay, I promise you."

Nicolette
nods. "Okay," she whimpers. "Okay, okay, okay," she chants,
summoning her strength from the depths of her heart.

We
watch her push herself up on the couch and wipe some of her tears away.

"You
really did this; you brought him," she says in amazement. I try to smile
at her. "You are such a strong girl," she adds.

Garrett
lowers himself on the couch next to her, taking her hand in his.

"Justin,"
his mother says, unable to keep eye contact with him, "I don't deserve to
even speak to you—I know that—and I'm in no position to give you advice, but if
I only get to say one thing I want it to be for you to know how much this woman
loves and adores you. I've never seen anything like it; and after everything
you've been through, everything I've done to you, you deserve a love like
hers."

Justin
cannot hold back or deny the tears that slide down his cheeks. He grabs my
hand. "I know it. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Yes.
I believe that," Nicolette says easily. Her fearful hands are shaking
violently. "Why don't you two sit down? This is going to be uncomfortable
enough for you." Justin and I sit next to each other holding hands as she
turns to Garrett. "Baby, I want to say I'm sorry to you as well. I'm sorry
I wasn't a better person or a stronger woman back then and I regret the things
you're about to hear. I wish so much that I could change them, not for myself
but for you boys. I love you both, even if you both end up hating me."

Her
tears have slowed, but they haven't stopped and neither have mine. Knowing
what's coming, the anger and devastation they're each going to feel, has my
anxiety at its peak.

"When
I was married to your father," she begins, still so full of shame that
she's unable to look directly at him, "it was an absolutely wonderful time
of my life. No man ever treated a woman any better than he did me." She
smiles as she remembers. "You look so much like him I can’t believe
it," she adds, finally looking at him because she can pretend for an
instant that he is his father. "It's hard for you to understand this right
now, but maybe after I'm finished you will know I loved your father deeply. I
still love him. No one
ever
took his place."

Justin
nods ever so slightly.

"He
was a truly great man, so passionate. He could be the softest, most gentle
person and at the same time he could be the strongest man I've ever met."

Yeah,
that's Justin!

Nicolette's
smile grows a little wider. "He made me so happy and life was as good as
it could get. We had you, oh my God you were so precious, and I loved being a
mom—don't ever think anything different."

She
pauses and reaches for a box of tissues on the table in front of her. This is where
the story is going to get bad. So, so fucking bad.

I grab
a few tissues for myself, and honestly for Justin as well, just in case. He
sees me do it and I feel him stiffen bedside me, preparing for what he doesn't
know.

Her
smile is gone again, the tears gushing. There's even a hint again of her chest
hitching.

"I
made a mistake," she says.

I'm
instantly defensive. "No you didn't!" I bark. "Don't you say
that, because you did not!"

Nicolette
nods her head, trying to acknowledge me, trying to believe me.

Garrett
rubs the back of her hand, urging her to continue.

"In
the afternoons I used to go for a walk. I wanted to stay in shape for my
husband, he was so damn handsome that he made me nervous sometimes." She
offered another failing smile. "I would walk in the park. Of course, it's
not always the safest place. You have to know what times to be there, what
places to stay away from, and I did—I knew better."

My
tears are getting heavier.

"One
afternoon I was out late. I convinced myself I would be careful and keep it
short. As I walked, I was thinking about your father and I lost track of where
I was and how late it was getting. The sun was dropping fast, making lots of
dark places."

Justin
is tensing, his other hand rolling into a fist.

I see
Garrett beginning to suspect what's coming as well.

Their
mother is slowly becoming a mess again. Her voice catches about every two or
three words and the tissues are not keeping up with either of us again.

"I
got into a really b-bad spot, and as soon as I realized it, I wanted to turn
around. By then, I wasn't alone, and it was too late."

Garrett
wipes his wet cheek.

"There
were three of them, all y-young, evil things. I tried to out run them, but—"

Her
voice quit out completely. I handed her another tissue so she could take a
breath.

Garrett
is rocking forward and back just slightly without even realizing it, trying to
pacify his anxiety. I saw Justin do the same thing a couple of times.

Nicolette
composes herself the best that she can. "No m-matter how hard I fought,
they fought h-harder. They b-beat me so m-much they didn't even have to hold me
down when they started t-taking t-turns—"

Her
throat closed completely again.

I'm
bawling and trying not to because Justin needs my strength right now. The shock
on his face as he's realizing there's so much he never knew. His world is
changing; it started in his eyes and I can physically see it happening.

"They
u-used me and left m-me broken, my clothes torn off, their m-mess all over
m-me. One of them t-took my underwear and l-laughed at me w-when he said h-he wanted
to remember m-my scent, l-like I was just s-some f-fucking animal."

Garrett
throws his arms around her. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry I didn't know
what happened."

She
leans into him, practically falling onto his shoulder and crying helplessly as
the memories came flooding in again for maybe only the second time after all
these years of denial.

"An
older couple that I had passed right before the attack found me on their way
back about twenty minutes later," she continues from Garrett's shoulder.
"I was barely conscious. I remember hearing them screaming for help and
the man putting a jacket over my body. I was taken to a hospital, and it took a
few weeks to recover from the damage they did."

Her
eyes settle on Justin. "That was the first time I was away from y-you. We
knew you were much too young to know the t-truth, so we just told you I was
away. Back then they didn't know the things they do now, h-how to handle trauma.
We didn't know what to tell you. I didn't get help for myself—there really
wasn't any, not then. Maybe it w-would have been different if I got help
instead of trying to bury it inside."

"It
was the time. They didn't have a clue what you needed back then," Justin
said. It was the first real thing he's said to her, and it was very promising,
a complete change of tone.

His
mother wept for a few minutes.

"They
caught the guys, one the next day, the others right after that. There was no
denying it—the sick prick still had my underwear in his pocket. But again, it
was a different time. They didn't have bad records since they were so young, so
they were only sentenced to three to six months, which they laughed at."

The
look passes from Justin to me. Not
a
look,
the
look. We are going
to set this right.

Fucking
damn right!

Garrett
sees it too. His face says he wants in.

"It
broke m-me," their mother continues. "Even when I came home from the
hospital, I was not b-better. I was not worthy of your father, not in my eyes.
He was nothing less than wonderful of course, but I felt like a disgrace,
d-disgusting. Why would he ever want me after that? Why would anyone, even my
o-own child, want me?"