Authors: Debi V. Smith
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
A sheriff’s car and a white Honda Civic are parked in front of the house after school. We rush through the door, worried about Rose. She sits in the living room with a uniformed female sheriff’s deputy and a brown-skinned young woman with thick black hair pulled into a ponytail. Ponytail’s orange shirt and blue jeans cling to her curves. A large black leather notebook rests on her lap. Rose’s face is taut while Ponytail smiles.
I know this isn’t good, despite her smile.
“Arissa, go up to your room, please,” Rose says.
“Mo-”
She adds more sternness to her voice. “I am not asking. Go to you room.” She gazes at me with sorrow in her eyes, patting the sofa next to her.
This must be CPS. With a deputy, though?
Arissa squeezes my arm, then runs up the stairs. I drop my backpack next to the stairs and sit next to Rose. She slides an arm around my shoulder and I notice the worn tissue in her other hand. My knee bounces up and down and I wring my hands together between my legs. Rose runs her hand along my arm and my knee stops.
Non-verbal cues work wonders sometimes.
“Sara,” Ponytail says, ”I’m Gillian Barrow. I work for CPS.”
“Hi.”
“I have some questions for you about your family,” she says, opening her binder and clicking the end of a pen.
I glance at the deputy. Her affect is flat and her brown hair is a styled pixie cut. She sits up straight on the opposite sofa with Gillian.
Gillian catches my gaze. “Deputy Cohen is here for my protection since your family lives across the street.”
I nod and dig my thumbnail into the palm of my other hand.
Gillian starts with questions about the physical abuse, then leads into questions about my mother and sister. I manage the questions with almost no anxiety because I’ve told it all before. She then asks me to recount as many incidents of my father “sexually abusing” me as I can.
No one wants to use the word
rape
. It’s an ugly word full of bitter poison, leaving scars inside and out.
When I finish, Deputy Cohen’s face is red with pursed lips and moist eyes.
“Have you had any problems with your family since they gave custody of you to the Jerichos?” Gillian asks.
“No. I don’t even see them outside. They’re not sociable. They don’t know any of the neighbors on the street. The only reason they know the Jerichos is because Arissa befriended me.”
“Thank you, Sara,” she says, closing her notebook. She and Deputy Cohen stand.
“That’s all?” I ask.
“I need to interview your family and detectives will be interviewing them as well. I’ll be in contact with your guardians.”
Rose sees them out and then returns to me. “I know you didn’t want Arissa and Jason to know, but I think you need to tell them before they find out on their own.”
I sink back into the cushion. “I’ll think about it.”
She combs her fingers through my hair. “Sara, it won’t change how they feel about you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we all know you had no control over what went on in that house.”
She sounds so sure, but I’m not convinced. Jason won’t want to have anything to do with damaged goods.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Jason is sprawled out on the grass in the quad. I sit cross-legged, picking at my sandwich. His hand covers my knee as he rolls onto his side. “What’s bugging you?” he asks. “You haven’t been yourself today.”
I inhale deeply. I don’t want to tell him, but if I don’t, he’ll find out from someone else. That’s not fair to him.
“Parker,” he gives my knee a gentle squeeze, “talk to me.”
The pressure sends a shudder through my body as my eyes burn with tears.
“You can tell me, you know.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “J, I—“ I can’t finish as we make eye contact. I’m going to tell him and he’s going to walk away and never talk to me again.
“Hey.” He sits up, slipping his arms around me. “Why don’t we skip the rest of our classes and go somewhere we can really talk?”
“I can’t ditch.”
“Sure you can. Your parents can’t do anything to you and I know Rose and Andrew will understand.”
“Okay.” They
will
understand since they urged me to tell him. What’s missing an afternoon of classes just once?
Jason gathers our lunches and backpacks and then holds out his free hand to help me up.
“Where do you want to go?” he asks, buckling his seatbelt.
“Anywhere.”
Minutes later, we claim a spot on a picnic table at Moonlight Beach. Jason leans back with an elbow on the table and I place my legs over his, my arms folded on bent knees. His other hand draws circles around my back, comforting me.
“I’m not sure where to start.”
“Wherever you’d like,” he says in his supportive tone. The one that makes me feel safe, and loved.
“I need you to know that this is the hardest thing I’m doing right now and I need your support.”
“You always have it, Parker.”
“My father didn’t just physically and emotionally abuse me, J. He also raped me.”
He gasps. “That day in the cafeteria,” he says, hushed.
“That was the first time.” I take a breath. “Yesterday, I had to tell a social worker about every single time he did it.
“He tried to after you dropped me off from our first date. He was waiting for me in my room. I stood up to him that night. I was so happy and I didn’t want him to take that from me. He took so many other things…I couldn’t let him have that.”
He pulls me into a tight embrace. Warm tears fall on my shoulder as his body shakes against mine. “I’m sorry, Parker.” He draws back and sniffs. “I’m so, so, so sorry for what he did to you. And I’m sorry I ever pushed you about dating.”
“I was afraid to tell anyone, but you need to know. You deserve to know. This is what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“I didn’t get into anything. I got
you
.” He releases me and cups my face in his hands. “I want you. I don’t care what your father did.”
“How? How can you want me knowing how damaged I am?” Tears brim and overflow. “I don’t know when or if I’ll ever be ready for sex.”
“Parker, I’m not with you for sex. I’m with you because you’re smart, beautiful, and funny. And as you said earlier, you need my support.” He swipes the tears with his thumbs.
“But, I’m
damaged
.”
“I don’t see you that way.”
“I see myself that way.”
“One of these days, you’ll see yourself the way I do.” He smiles, wrapping his arms around me. “You’re beautifully broken, not damaged.”
I suck in a breath. Beautifully broken? It’s poetic and so very Jason at the same time.
“There’s one more thing,” I say.
He tips his head back and with questions in his eyes, but waits for me to continue.
“It wasn’t an intestinal virus I had last year. He got me pregnant. My follow up appointment was really an abortion.”
He slumps against the picnic table at the news. “You came to school after an abortion? My God. I—I—I…” He appears lost, and I know this is the moment when the hammer drops. This is when he decides I was right all along.
His hands slide up my back and into my hair, guiding my head to him. His mouth meets mine with heated fury, our tongues dancing for a moment.
He breaks away, hands still in my hair. “I love you so damn much, Parker. I wish I could wash your past away and send it out into the depths of the ocean with the tide.”
His declaration warms me inside and I nestle into his shoulder.
My father took everything and took it by force. But he was never able to take away the Jerichos. Or Jason. They are standing by me, proving him wrong. Someone as damaged as me
can
be loved.
Jason follows me into the house and I stop in my tracks, then edge behind him. Rose is waiting, stiff and without her customary smile.
“Where have you been?” she asks.
“Please don’t be mad,” I say, peeking out from behind Jason.
She relaxes her posture. “Sweetie, I’m not mad. I was afraid something happened to you. The school called because you weren’t in class after lunch. You didn’t call to say you were feeling ill or anything and it’s not like you to ditch school.”
“I’m sorry, Rose,” Jason speaks up. “We went to Moonlight because Sara wanted to talk. Away from everyone at school.”
A perplexed look forms on Rose’s face.
“I finally told him,” I announce.
She enfolds me in her arms, forcing Jason to let go of my hand. “I’m so glad. Just don’t do that again. Let me know when you skip class so I don’t worry. Please.”
She tightens her grip and I squeak out, “Okay.”
“And don’t think that this is permission for you to leave school whenever you want.”
“I know.”
She releases me and spins around, heading for the kitchen. I glance at Jason and he shrugs.
Arissa bursts through the front door with Damian on her heels. “Where
were
you guys?” she demands.
“Moonlight.”
“What? Miss Goody Two-Shoes ditched?”
“There’s a first time for everything,” I answer, smirking.
“Does Mom know?”
“Yeah, she already lectured me.”
“Good,” she says triumphantly before they run up to her room.
Jason laughs. “She sure knows how to lighten the mood even if she didn’t know. Homework?”
“You’re missing practice!”
“Coach won’t let me practice since I ditched anyway. I’ll call him later.”
The fact that he could be in more trouble for ditching than me sinks in. “J—”
“Shhh.” His lips press into mine. “You’re more important than basketball.”
We’re working on homework in the dining room when the phone rings. Our gazes flicker up when Andrew and Rose sit across from us.
I stare at them blankly. “What is it?” I ask, since they aren’t telling.
Rose slips an arm around Andrew and he does the same with her. I sit up and put my pen down. Jason takes my hand into his under the table.
“Detectives want to interview you tomorrow,” Andrew says, breaking the silence. “They’re coming in the morning. We’ll have Arissa bring your schoolwork home for you.”
I tense and Jason releases my hand to slide his arm around me. My eyes dart around, searching for any sign of Arissa and Damian.
“They’re in her room,” Rose says. “We made sure before we came in here.”
I let out an audible exhale and sit back in my chair.
“Are you ready to tell Arissa?” Andrew asks, moving his arms to the table with his hands clasped.
“Not yet.”
“Are you sure?” Rose asks.
I nod. “It was hard enough telling Jason.”
Jason squeezes my shoulder and kisses my temple.
“Then we’ll support you, then,” Andrew says. “I’m proud of you for telling Jason, even if you did skip school to do it.” My cheeks burn and Andrew lets out a small laugh, then looks at me straight-faced. “No more skipping school.”
“Yes, Andrew,” I say, contrite.
“Jason, are you staying for dinner?” Rose asks.
He lifts an eyebrow at me.
“If you want,” I answer.
“No, if
you
want,” he corrects.
“Yes.”
Rose presses her hands on the table, pushing herself to her feet. “That settles it, then. Thirty minutes.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Rose and Andrew sandwich me at the dining room table. Two clean-cut detectives in suits from the Child Abuse Unit sit across from us with notepads and mugs of coffee.
The sandy blond one, Detective Hall, picks up his pen. “We know you spoke with CPS the other day and we’re sorry to put you through this again. We have separate investigations because she’s making sure you’re safe while we will pursue criminal charges against your parents. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” I say, my voice cracking. I cradle my mug of Earl Grey between my hands. Andrew’s arm rests on my shoulders and his hand squeezes my arm for reassurance. My anxiety is lower than when I met Gillian and Deputy Cohen. At least I was expecting the detectives.
Detective Olivera, dark-skinned with black hair, starts with questions about the physical abuse, much like Gillian’s, but he allows me to tell my story freely without using close-ended questions to box me in. Next, Detective Hall asks Rose and Andrew to relate what they witnessed the day I came to live with them. We take a short break and then I recount the rapes, the pregnancy, and the abortion.
Detective Olivera ends with, “We’ll call if we have any other questions.”
“Sara,” Detective Hall adds, “we interview a lot of kids just like you. I want you to know you’re very brave for doing this.”
I stare at him because I never intended to divulge any of the abuse. The secrets were supposed to stay locked in my vault for the rest of my life. That’s not brave. “If I had a choice, Detective Hall, I wouldn’t have done this at all.”
After lunch, I meet with Sam and tell her about the CPS visit, revealing the last of my secrets to Jason, and this morning’s interview with the detectives.
“What does brave mean to you?” she asks.
“I choose to do the right thing.”
“And you did that,” she points out.
“How?” I interlace my fingers and let my thumbs play with each other. “I never meant to tell anyone, not even you.”
“You stood up to your father. You chose to stay with the Jerichos. You met with the CPS worker
and
the detectives when you could have refused. You answered their questions even though you were nervous at first. It doesn’t matter if you meant to or not. When faced with the choices, you did the right thing. You. Are. Brave.”
It still doesn’t feel right.
Andrew and Rose rise from their seats in the waiting room when I exit Sam’s office.
“Sam, if you have a minute,” Andrew says.
“Sure. Do you want to come in?” She opens the door wider.
“No. We wanted to tell you both,” his eyes flicker to me, “that Gillian Barrow called about ten minutes ago. We have a court date Tuesday morning.”
Her forehead creases with concern. “Did she say why?”
“She’s making her recommendations to the judge. That’s all she would say.”
“That doesn’t sound promising.”
“What does it mean?” I ask.
“She’s going to ask for a court order for something, but I don’t know what.”
“Tuesday’s my birthday,” I say, deflated.
Rose runs her hand across my back. “We’ll figure it out, sweetie.”
“I need to tell Arissa whether I’m ready or not,” I say to Andrew and Rose.
Sam smiles bright. “I told you you’re brave.”
Jason drives Arissa and Damian home from school.
“Why aren’t you at practice?” I ask.
“Coach suspended me from practice and the playoffs.”
“That’s hardly fair!”
“It’s okay, Parker. I told him what was going on without giving details. He did it so I could be here for you. I missed you today,” he whispers, picking me up in a bear hug.
“I missed you too.”
“How did it go?” He sets me on my feet.
“Same as the other day.” I peek around for Arissa and Damian.
“They went to the TV room.”
I lead him out back. “The social worker called while I was with Sam. We have court next Tuesday.”
He settles into a deck chair and tugs me onto his lap. “Your parents are going to trial already?” he asks, shocked.
“No. This is for something else. We don’t know what.” I rest my arm on his shoulder.
His arms slip around me, pulling me close. “Do you want me to go?”
“No, you can’t miss school.”
“My parents will write me a note.”
I shake my head. “If Arissa knows you’re going, she’ll demand to go.”
Our attention shifts to abrupt whooshing of the sliding door opening.
Arissa pops her head out. “You guys coming to do homework or what?”
“In a minute, Riss,” I answer.
“Please let me be there,” he pleads, after the door is closed, tightening his embrace.
“No.”
“I’ll ask Rose.”
“And I’ll tell her not to tell you anything.” I slip my hand into his hair and play with the curled ends.
“I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I won’t be. Andrew and Rose will be with me.”
A pained look etches his face.
“We could be there for five minutes or five hours. I don’t see the point of you being there.”
“To support you, Parker.”
“You already do and you don’t have to be there to do it.”
He accepts this with a sullen expression and holds me in silence.
Andrew unfurls the blanket and lets it come to rest on the grass at Oakcrest Park. Damian sets the picnic basket on one corner and Jason places the cooler on the opposite corner.
I smile to myself, remembering the dream I had after meeting the Jerichos.
“What?” Jason grins as he sits next to me.
“Just a dream I once had.” I take his hand into mine once he’s settled.
I slip my hair behind my ear as I glance in Rose’s direction. She dips her head and smiles.
“Riss. Damian,” I say more clipped than I mean to.
They stop digging through the basket and turn their attention to me.
I place my hand on Arissa’s. She covers it with her other hand and I stack my remaining hand on top. I lock onto her eyes. “You are my friend and my sister.” I squeeze her hands. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you and your friendship.”
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asks, panicked.
I nod still connected to her bright eyes. “You witnessed my father beating me and helped save me from that hell. You always told me how different my parents were from everyone else, and your family showed me a different kind of normal.”
Her eyes search mine with the worry I’ve witnessed from her through the years. “Sara, you’re scaring me. Are you sure you’re all right? You never talk like this.”
I nod again, not breaking eye contact. “What you guys didn’t know that day you saved me is that my father was also raping me.”
She chokes in an attempt to stifle her gasp, then tugs me into her arms. Damian’s jaw drops while Arissa clutches me like a vise. I set my hand on his, smiling at him. He joins our embrace and then more arms envelope us.
One big family hug. A real family with nothing but unconditional love for each other. I close my eyes and drink it in, savoring each layer of love. Parents. Sister. Friends. Boyfriend. Protectors.
Andrew and Rose allow Jason and Damian to stay over late so we can watch movies.
I curl up to Jason and circle my arms around him, head on his shoulder, demonstrating more affection than I have before in front of others. His arm keeps me close while the fingers of his free hand to run along my arm. I close my eyes and exhale.
His eyes drift from the screen to me and I open my eyes to him quirking his eyebrows.
I slide my hand across his chest, stopping over his heart and tapping lightly with his rhythm.
“Will you go to prom with me?” he whispers, interlacing our fingers.
I tip my head up, smiling. “Yes.”
He dips down and his lips graze over mine.
“Hey!” Arissa calls out, tossing popcorn at Jason. “Get a room!”
I flip her off, still smiling, and she returns the gesture with a grin.