29. Carlee
Chapter 29
Carlee
“Hey, are you awake?” Reece calls out before rapping his knuckles on my bedroom door.
“Yeah,” I answer, rolling over in bed.
Although I’ve barely left my room in days, I haven’t slept much either. My mind is still clouded by my mother’s death, and surprisingly by Jason’s suicide. I thought his demise would bring me peace, but it hasn’t. Not in the slightest. I’m not sure why.
“Are you decent?”
I sit up, rubbing my eyes. Dipping my chin, I spy the sauce stain on one of my favorite T-shirts, I’m a mess, but at least I’m covered. This shirt is one of many I stole from Grayson while we were together. I have a drawer full of them. They’ve been my chosen sleepwear since we’ve split. It’s no compensation for the real thing, but having a small part of him with me gives me comfort.
“I’m decent,” I reply.
The door slowly creaks open, and Reece pops his head in. His eyes quickly scan over me and when I see him wince, I know I look even worse than I feel. I haven’t brushed my hair in days .
There’s been no contact between Grayson and me since everything went down, and part of me is grateful for that. I know I’m being a coward, but so much has happened, and although I’m partly a victim in all of this, I can’t help but feel responsible for the hurt I’ve brought to his family. I know he’s talked with Reece on the phone, that’s how we found out about his uncle.
Emma’s tried to reach out to me a few times. She ended up sending a text when I didn’t return any of her calls. I just told her I’m not ready to talk yet. I know she’ll understand. Her reply was short and sweet, which I’m grateful for.
Emma: I’ll be here for you whenever you are. I love you!
“You might want to have a quick shower and change; you have a visitor downstairs,” Reece informs me.
“A visitor, who?”
He shrugs. “She said to tell you it’s Granny.”
Granny .
Grayson’s grandmother? Cheese on a cracker. Has she come to chew me out about her son? I almost tell Reece I’m not up for visitors, but I know she’s traveled a long way to see me, and as much as I’m dreading it, I need to face this clusterfuck eventually.
Reece must feel the same way, otherwise he never would’ve come up here in the first place. He’s always been protective of me when needed.
I rise from the bed, pulling down my T-shirt as I go. It swims on my tiny frame. “Tell her I’ll be down in ten,” I say, walking over to my dresser to grab some clean clothes and underwear.
Although the shower has helped to make me feel somewhat normal again, my stomach is in knots as I descend the stairs and head toward the front of the gym. I tuck my hands into my hoodie when I spot Granny sitting on one of the chairs near reception. She looks up as I approach and when a genuine smile tugs at her lips, I feel immediate relief.
Standing, she doesn’t hesitate to open her arms wide, and I feel tears burn the back of my eyes as I step into her embrace. It’s been years since I’ve seen this woman, and I’ve missed her.
“My sweet girl,” she whispers, rubbing her hands up and down my back. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” I say, burying my face further into her shoulder to hide my tears.
Pulling back, Granny cups my jaw. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Grayson explained everything to me, that’s why I’m here. In some way, I feel responsible.”
“For what?”
She looks around before bringing her attention back to me. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private.”
“Of course.”
Stepping back, I look down at her T-shirt not knowing what to expect, and a small smile tugs at my lips as I read it. ‘Don’t eat clowns, they taste funny .’
“Nice shirt,” I snicker.
“I played it down today, I didn’t want to wear anything that may embarrass you, dear.” But then she turns around and lets her cardigan slip from her shoulders, giving me a glimpse of what’s written on the back. ‘ Eat dicks instead.’
I smile for the first time in days. This woman is my spirit animal.
Leading her out to the private courtyard in the rear of the building, I take a seat on the bench that sits along the back wall. I tap the space beside me, and she sits down. I could’ve taken her upstairs to my apartment, but after being cooped up for days, I could use the fresh air.
Granny opens her bag once she’s seated, pulling out a small pink glittery case. She unzips it before removing a hand-rolled cigarette and lighter. She holds it out to me, and I shake my head.
“I don’t smoke.”
“It’s not tobacco,” she replies, raising an eyebrow.
“You smoke pot?” I ask, my eyes widening.
“I’ve heard it’s good for people with glaucoma.”
“You have glaucoma?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Fuck knows, but I’m old, so it’s a possibility.”
I throw my head back and laugh; she’s only been here minutes and I’m already feeling a bit better.
She places the joint between her lips, lighting it. After taking a long draw, she holds in the smoke as she rests her back against the wall behind us. When she finally exhales, she extends her hand toward me offering me a puff.
I shake my head. “My mom was an addict, so I’ve never touched the stuff.”
“I respect that,” she says. “But I can’t be straight for the conversation we’re about to have.”
My stomach churns at the thought of what she might have to say, so against my better judgment, I reach for the joint, bringing it to my mouth.
Reece will kill me if he finds out what I’m doing. He gave me a huge lecture about drugs when I first moved in with him all those years ago, but he needn’t have bothered, I saw firsthand what they did to my mother, and there was no way I was going to end up like her.
The moment I inhale I start to cough and splutter, and Granny chuckles as she lightly taps my back. “Amateur,” she mumbles.
We pass the joint back and forth a few more times before any further words are spoken. I’m not feeling the effects yet, so I lean back against the wall and wait to hear what Granny has to say.
“Did you know Jason wasn’t my biological son?”
“He wasn’t?”
“No. He was only three years old when I met his father. He was a cute kid and took a shine to me right off the bat. My husband, James, was a great dad. His ex was a psycho bitch, so when they split, he took Jason with him. He said he wouldn’t be safe living with her. I won’t go into it, but the beginning of that kid’s life was rough. My heart went out to him.
“His dad and I eventually got married, and I fell pregnant with Robert, Grayson’s father, and everything changed. Turns out the little boy I had grown to love had a dark side.
Jason hated his brother from the moment he was born. It was a jealousy thing, and over time I wasn’t comfortable leaving the boys alone. Not even for a second. My sweet Robert was such a good baby, but when I started to find small bruises on him and bite marks, I knew exactly where they were coming from.”
“That’s awful,” I say.
“As they got older, things got worse. Jason constantly bullied his little brother. He called him Bobby-boy, which Robert hated. That only made him do it more. He was such a spiteful little shit. If I ever chastised him for his behavior, he’d accuse me of playing favorites, or loving Robert more because he was my biological son. I tried so hard to never do that.”
I reach over and place my hand on top of hers because I have no response for any of this. I don’t want to hear about his life, but she obviously needs to get this off her chest, so I let her speak.
“Robert was good at everything, school, sports, you name it. The girls loved him, and Jason only hated him more for it. My husband, God rest his soul, wore rose-colored glasses when it came to his eldest son. It was obvious to me that Jason had inherited his mother’s genes. My husband didn’t have a nasty bone in his body. He was a kind, loving man, but a little coarse around the edges. A rough-and-tumble kind of guy. He’d always say, ‘Boys will be boys, wait until they’re older, they’ll be best of friends’.”
“Did that ever happen?”
“No. They barely had anything to do with each other. I was surprised when he showed up at Robert’s funeral. They hadn’t spoken in years, and he never bothered to come and visit him while he’d been sick.”
Granny stops talking for a moment and starts digging in her bag again. When she pulls out another joint and lights it, I know she’s struggling to relive it all. “At the funeral, Jason didn’t shed a tear. Quite the opposite. I happened to look over at him as Robert’s coffin was being lowered into the ground, and do you know what that piece of shit did? He fucking smiled. It’s probably the first genuine smile I’d ever seen him make. Any love I held for him, died in that moment.”
When Granny reaches up to wipe away her tears, my heart hurts for her. I can’t imagine how that would’ve felt.
She takes a deep breath before continuing. “When Jason was twelve, I got a call from the principal at his school. A girl a few grades below him, had accused him of touching her inappropriately. He denied it of course, but there was this little voice in the back of my mind that said differently. He’d become such a practiced liar over the years it was impossible to know when he was telling the truth.”
This conversation is heading down a path I’m not comfortable with, but I’m grateful for the pot now. I’m feeling very relaxed and chilled despite her confessions.
I believe Granny though, a hundred percent that fucker did what that girl accused him of, and my heart goes out to her. A part of me has always carried around a fraction of guilt. I was always beating myself up, wondering if there was anything I’d done to encourage his behavior, even though my heart knew that wasn’t the case.
“There were other incidents in the years that followed, but it was always his word against theirs, and somehow, he managed to talk his way out of all of it. In college, he was even accused of drugging a girl at a party and taking advantage of her. He got away with that one too. He ended up dropping out a few months later because that girl’s brother, and a group of his friends, beat him so bad he had to be hospitalized.”
She turns to face me, reaching for my hands. “This is why I felt compelled to come here today. When Grayson told me what he’d done to you, the shame and guilt I felt was almost too much to bear.”
Although it’s hard to hear about the other victims, it makes me realize that the monster I knew him to be, was always there. There’s nothing I could’ve said or done to change that.
“What he did to me wasn’t your fault,” I tell her.
“That’s where you’re wrong. In my heart, I knew he was guilty of the things the others had accused him of. If I’d done more about it back then, maybe I could’ve saved you.”
“Oh, Granny,” I say, wrapping her in my arms when she begins to cry. “The only person responsible for his actions is him.”
“I’m glad that sick fuck is dead. At least he can’t hurt anyone else now.”
“When Reece told me you were here, I was worried you’d be angry at me for what happened.”
She draws back, cupping my face. “Oh, dear God, never. I’ll admit I was pissed at you when you broke my grandson’s heart, but now I know why, all is forgiven. You were protecting him.”
“How is he?”
“Grayson?”
“Yes.”
“Heartbroken. He’s carrying around a lot of guilt for what happened to both you and your poor mother. He feels responsible.”
“Please tell him not to. I don’t want any of you to feel accountable for what he did. I could say the same,” I admit as my own tears start to fall. “If only I’d spoken up when I was thirteen or reached out for help after he came to the cabin, all of this could have been avoided.”
“Oh, sweetie. You had your reasons for doing what you did. You thought you were doing the right thing, the honorable thing, nobody can fault you for that. Your strength is admirable.”
We both sit there wrapped in each other’s arms for the longest time. It’s nice. I can count on one hand the number of people who’ve hugged me in my lifetime.
“Grayson wanted me to ask you when the funeral will be?”
“It’s on Friday, but I don’t want anyone to attend. This is something I need to do on my own.”
“Oh, Carlee,” she says, gently brushing the hair from my face. “Sometimes leaning on others for strength isn’t a sign of weakness.”
“I was estranged from my mother for years; I need this time to say my goodbyes.”
“Okay, I’ll let him know.” She digs in her bag again and pulls out an envelope. “He wanted you to have this… to help with the funeral costs or whatever.”
“I don’t want his money,” I say, holding up my hand.
“Grayson knew you’d say that. He also said it’s yours… money you gave him before you two broke up. Something about a car.” She shrugs her shoulder before forcing it into my hand. “You have to take it.”
I flip back the top flap of the envelope and see multiple bundles of hundred-dollar notes inside. “There’s too much in here. I only gave him a portion of this.”
“That’s something you’ll need to take up with Grayson. Let him help you, he needs to do this. The poor boy is suffering too.”
“I can’t let him do that.”
“Yes, you can,” she says, tapping my leg. “Now, I best be going. I have a long drive home and there’s a box of Twinkies waiting with my name on it. I’m going to kick off my shoes, lose this damn bra, and suck all the centers out of those motherfuckers.”
I sneak out of the apartment while Reece is off doing his morning jog. I was struggling to keep myself together, and I didn’t want to have to face him before I left. The gym is closed today. It’s the first time ever. I only found out when I noticed the sign sitting on the reception desk. It read: We’ll be closed on Friday due to family reasons .
I cried when I saw he’d written family . I’ve turned into an emotional wreck of late. The tiniest things seem to set me off. Reece already knew I was attending my mother’s funeral alone; he was simply doing this out of respect for me.
We’ve never put a label on our relationship or discussed emotions or sappy bullshit, but to me, he’s always been family. I’ve never uttered the words, but I hope he knows how much I love him. I’m so grateful for everything he’s given me over the years.
I decided not to do a church service. Roxy didn’t have a religious bone in her body. I opted for the burial only. The funeral home has organized a pastor to attend and say a few words. I have to meet him at the gravesite at 9:00 am, that’s two hours from now.
I’d planned to grab a coffee while waiting, but my stomach is in knots. Part of me is now wishing I hadn’t decided to brave this day alone.
I ended up driving straight to the cemetery. I’ve been sitting here in the car staring out the front windshield at the deep hole that’s been dug in preparation for today, my mother’s final resting place. It’s traumatizing, to say the least. I’ve spent the entire time racking my brain, trying to remember the good times we shared. Is it bad that I can barely come up with any?
A few that come to mind are the times she’d let me sit on her bed and watch her apply her makeup. Sometimes I’d ask her to put some on me, and the answer was mostly no, but one day she let me apply some of her lipstick. I smile to myself when I think about that moment. I felt like a princess that day. I was super careful when I ate to not rub any of it off.
You may ask what was so special about watching your mother get ready, that answer is simple; they were some of the few moments throughout our time together when she didn’t seem to mind that I existed.
What I’m trying to avoid, are the last images I have of Roxy. The ones that wake me in the middle of the night covered in a cold sweat. She was barely recognizable. She’d aged so much in the years we’d been apart. Time had not been kind to her, and that slays me. I left that frightened, lonely, and desperate little girl behind the day my mother kicked me out, but right now, in this moment, she’s clawing her way back to the surface.
Out of nowhere, the tears start to fall, and I’m powerless to stop them. It doesn’t take long before they morph into agonizing sobs. I’ve not cried this hard since the day at the trailer when I found her lifeless body.
The possibility our relationship may have never improved is a reality I need to face, but I’ll forever have regrets for not trying. Even after everything she did to me. There wasn’t much I could do when I was a child, as an adult though… maybe. It’s something I’ll never know now.
I startle when the driver’s side door suddenly opens. I lift my head from the steering wheel when someone reaches into the car and undoes the seat belt that’s still wrapped around me. I don’t even need to look up to see who it is, I can smell him.
Grayson.
“Sunshine,” he whispers as he lifts me out of the car and folds me tightly in his arms. “I know you wanted to do this alone. I tried so hard to respect your wishes, but in the end, I couldn’t do it.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I mumble into his chest as my arms snake around his waist. “Thank you for coming.”
Just being here, in his arms, makes me feel stronger.
Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on my hair, and that gesture brings on a fresh round of tears. “Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”