I giggle and snort. “I have a family here, Mom.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can take them back.
“Livi, honey, this boy, I’m sure he’s nice. I’m sure he tells you how beautiful you are and fills your head with so much, but, Livi, first love is rarely what you think it is.”
Anger hits me like a ton of bricks. “Mom, don’t tell me what love is or isn’t. You know what, Hendrix isn’t a boy; he’s a man, all man. He doesn’t tell me how beautiful I am; he shows me. Every single day, he shows me with his actions how much I mean to him. He and his brothers have been with me, backing me up, supporting me, and helping me with everything that seems to be crashing around me.” I am shaking from my need to defend Hendrix and what we share. “He gave me back what Bryce took from me all those years ago.” The words just tumble out in a mess of emotions.
That was not how I wanted this to come out. I was honestly hoping to get her to plan a visit, and then I would tell her in person. Only, the cat is out of the proverbial bag now.
“What did Bryce take from you, Livi?” my mother asks with fear lacing every word.
I breathe in and out heavily.
“Livi, tell me, please,” she begs as tears fill my eyes.
My hand reaches under me to rub my butt between the couch I am sitting on. ‘Own it, overcome it’ covers me today. How fitting my panties are as I battle to continue to overcome my past.
“It’s in the past, Mom.”
“Livi…”
“He feels bad about it,” I mumble.
I hear her sob. “Livi, my Livi.” She cries harder, and I feel worse for telling her. “I should’ve known. When you came home after the summer you were fourteen, you were different. I should’ve known. I should’ve been closer to you, pushed harder for you to talk to me. My God, Livi, I’m so sorry.”
As we both cry without me having to get into the details, Floyd comes over to me, licking my tears away. Finally, my mom sniffles, fighting to compose herself.
“Di—did…” She is stuttering. “Your dad, did he know?”
I wipe my face on one of Hendrix’s T-shirts that I am currently wearing. “Not back then.”
“How long, Livi?”
“Two years,” I whisper, fighting to keep the tears at bay.
She cries out into the phone, and then I hear the sound of her falling to the ground and banging her hand or something on the floor.
“No, no, no. I’m so sorry, Livi. My precious Olivia. I sent you there. I trusted Darren. I trusted Victoria. As rude as she always was, I still trusted her with you, my first born, my baby,” she sobs as she rambles to herself.
“Mom, please, Mom. It’s okay. I’m okay. You didn’t know. It’s not your fault. I saw Bryce when I went out there, and he apologized,” I try to calm her.
“He apologized. My goodness, Livi, he should do more than apologize. You faced him alone? You didn’t tell me about this when you went to the hospital. Darren was okay with having that scumbag in his hospital room? You … you…” she trails off, mumbling incoherently.
“I wasn’t alone. Hendrix was there. He’s good to me. He held me. Bryce feels guilty. He’s been in counseling, and he was abused. Victoria doesn’t believe him, but Dad does. What’s more, I believe him. I believe he is truly sorry. I’m moving past this, thanks to Hendrix. He’s freed me from my past, Mom. Don’t be mad, just be understanding, okay?”
“I don’t know how to do that, Livi. I failed as a mother.”
“You didn’t fail at anything as much as I didn’t do anything wrong, nor did Bryce when he was violated. It’s not easy, but we all have to move forward. I don’t wanna lose more time with my dad over this. I also don’t want secrets between us anymore, Mom. I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
She sobs. “Baby, don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you, always.”
I hear Charlie in the background. “Darlene, baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
She sobs into my stepdad, muffling her sounds. He takes the phone.
“Livi, you okay? Do we need to come to Detroit?” he asks sincerely.
“I’m okay, Charlie. It’s all okay. Look, I need to get to bed. I have to work in the morning. Take care of Mom and tell her I’ll call in a few days. Love you both.”
I get off the phone, feeling relieved that I have no secrets with my mom. Guilt washes over me that I dropped all this on her now, though. I planned to take my secret to the grave until all this happened with my dad.
Looking up at the entertainment center, my eyes immediately land on one of the few pictures Hendrix has in his home.
Getting up, I pat Floyd on her head as I make my way to the photograph. Pulling it down, I walk back over to the couch, clutching it in my hands. Sitting down, I trace the woman’s face in front of me. Her three boys who are now grown men surround her in the picture.
There is sincerity in the eyes of Janis Caldwell. There is a silent strength in her features. She is a woman who owned her life, her problems, and overcame them. I rub my butt.