27. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Three weeks later, David was on his way to pick Jacob up from preschool when his phone rang. Looking at the caller ID on the screen, he saw that it was his mom, so he quickly accepted the call.
“Hey, mom,” he greeted her, rather exuberantly.
“Hey, honey,” Valerie Lowe said, before adding, “You sure sound like you’re in a good mood.”
“That’s because I am.”
Was he ever. Ashley had gotten her period the week prior and since then, he’d been practically skipping with happiness every day.
“You’re not about to ruin it, are you?” he teased, after there was a bit of a pause on her end.
She laughed a little nervously. “I hope not.”
This time the pause was on his end. “So, what’s up?” he asked, his happiness becoming slightly tempered at her words.
“Well, I was hoping you could come over for dinner tonight.”
David could tell, by the way she specified ‘you’, that she didn’t want him to bring Ashley. Valerie had never really warmed up to Ashley, and vice versa. David knew part of the reason was because Valerie had adored Paige, but after hearing about the incident at Bender’s, his mother had deliberately avoided being around Ashley at all.
“Is something wrong?”
“I just need to talk to you,” she answered. “And I figured we could have dinner, too.”
“Okay, well, I’m on my way to get Jacob right now,” he told her evenly, despite the fact that he was now feeling decidedly uneasy. “I could stop by after that, if you want.”
“That would be perfect. Thank you.”
“It’s no trouble, Mom. I’ll see you in a half hour.”
After disconnecting with his mom, David then called Ashley and told her he and Jacob would be eating dinner at his mom’s house. She didn’t care that she hadn’t been invited, nor did she ask why she hadn’t been, which made things easy.
When he arrived at Little Hands Preschool (which was basically glorified daycare), David spent a few minutes covertly watching his son play for a few moments, something he always liked to do. Today, it amused David to no end to see Jacob being shadowed by two girls, Emma and Kelsey, while he attempted to play with his best friend, Patrick.
He watched until Jacob spotted him and waited while Jacob said goodbye to Patrick, ignored the two girls, then grabbed his backpack. On the way to the car, David asked how his day was.
“Patrick got a timeout for spitting on Kelsey.”
“Good. Spitting on girls is wrong.”
Jacob made a face. “She spit on him first.”
“Oh. Did she get a timeout, too?”
“Yes.”
“Then justice was served.”
“What’s justice?”
“It’s like … fairness.”
“Oh.”
Jacob proceeded to tell David about other highlights of the day, including the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he’d eaten for lunch, which was apparently the best one he’d ever had. It wasn’t until Jacob was secured in his car seat that David was able to mention they were going to Valerie’s for dinner and Jacob immediately pumped his fists in the air and shouted, “Yes! Macaroni and cheese!”
The kid had a one-track mind. “I don’t know if that’s on the menu, Little Man, but you know the deal. No matter what Grandma makes, you have to eat it all and tell her how good it is. You don’t want to hurt her feelings, right?”
Jacob pursed his lips before reluctantly shaking his head, possibly remembering the time Valerie had made tuna casserole, which hadn’t gone over well.
When they got to Valerie’s house, David kissed her on the cheek. At fifty-seven, she looked more like his older sister than his mother, especially with their strong resemblance to one another. He had gotten most of his features from her, as well as his hair and eye color, for which he was extremely grateful every time he looked in a mirror and knew he didn’t see his father looking back. He could think of nothing worse than having a constant reminder of a man who hadn’t hung around long enough to see his child born.
He could only assume that Valerie felt the same way.
“It’s good to see you,” she said with a warm smile when David stepped back.
“It’s good to see you too, Mom.”
“And how’s my boy?” she asked Jacob, bending down and proceeding to kiss and hug him into oblivion, finally turning him loose so he could empty his backpack of all the artwork he wanted to show her. It was somewhat of a ritual, with each piece of construction paper being carefully laid out on the kitchen table while Valerie listened as he told her about each ‘piece’ in great detail.
“This one is my favorite,” Valerie gushed, pointing to the one that had various kinds of dry beans glued into a fairly symmetrical, circular design. “Why don’t you put it on my fridge?”
With an excited nod, Jacob ran to the fridge and then frowned as he contemplated which one of the current masterpieces needed to be removed to make space for the new one. Making the decision rather quickly, he pulled one off and slapped the new one on, then secured it with magnets shaped like fruits and vegetables.
When he was finished, David took him out to the living room and put in the Scooby-Doo DVD that Valerie had bought specifically to have on hand when Jacob visited. He was currently on a bit of a retro cartoon kick, with original Scooby-Doo episodes having just overtaken Paw Patrol.
Back in the kitchen, as David went to sit down across from Valerie, he waved at the fridge. “You know you don’t have to keep all these,” he said.
“I know. But I want to. This doesn’t last forever, so every one of these is a gift.”
“Did you keep all my shit?”
“It’s not shit,” she admonished him, but she was grinning as she did. “And yes, I did keep it all. That’s what those boxes in the attic with your name on them are filled with. Your big thing was macaroni jewelry. Remember that? I don’t even know how many rigatoni necklaces I have. And I didn’t throw a single one away. You shouldn’t throw anything away, either.”
“I keep a lot of it, Mom, but not everything he does is worthy of hanging in the Louvre.”
“Yes, it is.”
David shook his head and then changed the subject. “So … you wanted to talk to me about something?”
Her grin slowly disappeared. “Yes. And I didn’t want to do it over the phone, or with Ashley around.”
“So, what is it?” he asked, her hesitant demeanor setting him on edge. “Jesus, you don’t have cancer do you?”
“What? No. God, nothing like that,” Valerie assured him, before taking a deep breath. “So, I’m not sure how to say this, because it’s so strange, so I’m going to just say it. I just finished a book and you need to read it.”
David groaned as if in pain. “Mom, no. The only books you read are those bodice rippers—”
“Historical romances,” she corrected him.
“Whatever. They’re trash. Please don’t tell me you think I need to read one of those, because that’s not going to happen. I don’t care how many ‘feels’ it gave you. Not. Going. To. Happen.”
She went to get something from the counter. “I don’t want you to read one of my historical romances. I want you to read this,” she told him, holding up a paperback book, which she gently set on the table in front of him.
Puzzled, David read the title, The Moment You Know, then looked at the picture on the cover. He’d never seen the picture before, but it took him less than five seconds to recognize a very young Paige sitting on her Uncle Carter’s lap at the beach. At first, the picture seemed innocuous enough, until David looked closer and registered the tight grip Carter had on Paige, and the empty expression on her face as she stared out at the water.
David frowned at the picture, feeling oddly disturbed by it and then he spotted the author’s name down at the bottom, and his frown grew.
“Paige Clemons,” he read out loud, before looking at his mom, who nodded. “She went back to her maiden name,” he murmured, mostly to himself, shocked at how much that hurt. He tried to shake it off, to focus on other, more obvious important things. “What is this? Paige wrote a book?”
“Yes,” Valerie replied, watching him carefully. “She published it months ago, back in November.”
“November?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No. How did you find out about it?”
“It popped up on my Kindle about a week ago as a recommended book I might like to read, and at first I didn’t connect Paige Clemons to our Paige, because of the different last name. But the girl on the cover looked like her, so I looked at the author’s bio and … it was her. I downloaded it and read it in one afternoon, then ordered a paperback copy for you. It arrived this afternoon, right before I called you.”
David stared at the book’s cover again, seeing something he’d overlooked. “It’s a memoir. Why would she write a memoir? What’s it about?”
His mom looked at him, her expression troubled. “It’s about her and her Uncle Carter. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“You’re in it, too.”
“What do you mean, I’m in it?”
“I mean you’re in it.”
“What did she say about me?”
Valerie hesitated before answering, which immediately had him on high alert. “Mom—”
“Nothing bad, I promise. But there is some personal stuff in there about your marriage.”
“What?” For a moment, he felt ripped wide open. Their marital secrets—and problems—were in a book for the entire world to read? “Like … sex stuff?”
He could absolutely hear the panic in his voice.
“A little,” she admitted.
“You read about our sex life? Are you kidding me?”
“Calm down, David.” Valerie took his hand and held it firmly. “It’s not pornographic, or anything like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
“You’ll just have to read it and see for yourself. It will explain a lot.”
“What do you mean? What will it explain?”
“You’ll just have to read it. Trust me. It’ll answer all of your questions. It’s also going to break your heart. It broke mine—especially the part where she tells her mother.”
“Tells her mother what?”
Valerie reached out and pointed to the short blurb at the very top, which he had overlooked: I was molested by my Uncle Carter from the age of five, until I turned eighteen. I just didn’t know it until I was thirty-two years old.
When he was done reading, he looked up at his mom. His skin suddenly felt ice cold, like he had an all over body chill. “She was molested by her Uncle Carter?” He almost couldn’t get the words out. “And she didn’t know it?”
His mom shook her head and he could see she was close to tears. “No, she didn’t know. You’ll understand when you read the book, honey.”
“I can’t believe this is real.”
“It’s brutally real. You’ll need to be prepared for that when you read it.”
He leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his face. “Jesus Christ. Why wouldn’t she tell me about this?”
“I’m wondering that myself. She must have had a reason, though,” Valerie said, before telling him gently, “You should find out what it was.”
“After what happened at Bender’s, that won’t be easy. She never even responded to a single one of my texts asking how she was doing. Not that I blame her, but …”
“You’re just going to have to try. You need to talk to her—and soon. This, as they say, is a game changer.”