Suddenly, a reel of the past flashed by, and he saw himself from her eyes. A man who never had time to pay any attention to the starving little girl. Not only had he ignored her, he’d physically brushed her away when she’d tried to make overtures to sit on his lap and run to greet him. Memory after memory appeared of him over the last few years brutally dampening her affection until he literally sank to his imaginary knees.
His little girl had tried so hard to share her love, begging for his attention, and needing so badly for him to show her that he cared. And putz that he was, he’d ignored every approach until she’d become hardened and stopped giving a damn. Lookingclosely, he saw a child filled with anger and taking it out on anyone seeking to get close.
Then he watched as Lance furtively yanked Rosie’s ponytail only for her to grin back at him, their bond obviously one of affection. Thankfully, Lance still had pull with the little girl. Deep inside he faced the truth. His do-gooder brother – the one he’d always took for granted – didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Damon had no doubt that Lance would show up for his family. Take care of all their needs. God, what had he done?
Kneeling in his agony, Damon’s shame grew because he knew if the situation were reversed, he wouldn’t have been there for Lance.
Chapter Two
Home. Relief flooded throughout Rachel’s body.
Thankful that when Lance dropped them off, he left them at the curb, Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. She appreciated his consideration in letting her get the kids ready for bed herself. Careful not to rush them, she let them dilly-dally the way kids liked to do. They plied her with silly questions and did everything they knew how to keep from having to settle down, obviously wanting her attention. Since they hadn’t seen her for the last few days, the time was now to reassure them.
Suddenly, Rosie touched her am, her expression strangely serious, and her voice more timid than usual. “Promise you’ll stay.”
How odd!What’s this all about?“Of course I will. I told you that already.”
“I know. But Daddy left us alone lots of times.” Rosie’s confrontational statement stopped Rachel in her tracks.
Closing the drawer after getting her daughter’s pajamas, Rachel slowly turned to the child. Her brain in overdrive shesearched for a candid response without throwing her husband under the bus. She saw Rosie watching for her reaction, the girl seeming older than her years. Since she’d always covered up for Damon in the past, Rachel understood the moment had come for complete honesty. “I’m sorry. That was wrong. I didn’t know about it until last week.”
“He didn’t tell you.” Rosie hadn’t ask it as a question, because she had no doubt.
“No he didn’t, baby. But you should have.”
“I couldn’t. Daddy said I wasn’t allowed… that you’d be mad at me.”
“Mad at you? Of course, I wouldn’t have been mad at you. He knew I’d be angry with him though.” Rachel felt a wave of sickness pouring over her body. “He just didn’t want to face me.”
Disgusted with herself for not being aware that her children had suffered while she’d lived in her little land of dreams, she dropped beside Rosie on the bed. “It’s not your responsibility to look after Daddy’s lies. He had no right to ask you to. And I wouldn’t have been angry with you, sweetheart. Never with you. Come here.” She opened her arms and kept them wide, praying her daughter would seek comfort the way she used to do.
Realizing despairingly, it had been some time since she’d made any effort to comfort Rosie or spend alone time with her and have fun like they used to, embarrassed remorse filled her full when the child stubbornly pretended not to see her imploring gesture.
Damn you Damon.How could she have been so naïve? To believe that he’d never do the things she knew in her heart he was capable of. She’d let her children down in ways she wouldn’t have imagined possible.
***
Damon heard every word of their discussion and despair filled him to overflowing. What an insensitive prick he’d been. Disgust fought for supremacy with his wretchedness. He’d been taught better, hadn’t he? Then he remembered his own father. Lord love him, the man had been a philandering bastard too.
Damon’s reminiscences took him to his youth when he’d been the ten-year-old begging for affection and approval, and his own father had been the jackass who couldn’t be bothered.
Letting the reels of past incidents open to him, he saw clearly how his mother had suffered. The times he’d come across her crying alone after the adults had fought yet again, and his father had left her reeling in misery.
Those occasions when the old man had been heartlessly and selfishly cruel cascaded through his memory in a constant flood. One thing they had in common, the old man had always been unwilling to accept the blame for his bad actions, forcing her to be the responsible one instead.
Eyes opened clearly, he realized that from a young age he’d sensed the hurt hovering over their small, shabby house. Scared by the family dysfunction, he supposed he’d built a dream world where he was the prince and could do no wrong. Allowing the occasions of destructive behavior to float past one after the other now made his heart open and release the thick protective padding he’d built around it as a terrified little boy.
With all his senses working, understanding flooded. Recognizing the fear he’d always felt in those days, he finally understood that something unnormal had twisted inside his psyche. Something terrible. Instead of becoming a man he could be proud of… following the loving kindness of his mother like Lance had done… he’d become the image of his father.
Impossible to stop the visions, they hit him one after the other. Finally, came the day that Lance had stood up to the old man, a pivotable day in Damon’s life. Stinking of booze and tearingthe kitchen apart because he’d drank his last beer, his father had become not only confrontational but physical.
Throwing a chair across the room, he’d yelled, “What is wrong with you woman? Every single day I work my ass off for this family and the least you could do is make sure I have a cold drink when I get home.”
Damon suddenly remembered that was the same day his tiny mother had just gotten fired from her job. She’d come home upset and trying to hide her tears of failure. Having to deal with an insensitive drunk must have been the ultimate burn. So rather than bolstering him out of his childish tantrum as usual, she’d spoken sharply. “I would if you’d give me enough money to buy both beer and food. We have two boys to feed, and I can’t do it all on a waitress’s salary, especially now since I got fired for being late. All because I had to drive you to work first because of your DUI.”
He watched his thin mother’s earnest comeback, trying to make her husband understand the God’s honest truth, while all he cared about was himself. Recognizing the words, the actions, the insensitivity he’d used himself at different times, he tried to shut off the memories, but the images just kept coming.
Enraged by her truth, his father had lost his cool and strutted toward his mother with his hand raised. Silence had saturated the tension-filled room. That’s when Lance, the youngest son, had stepped in-between them, his back stiff and hands up in a fighting stance. “Don’t you hit my mom. Ever. Because if you do, I’ll grow up and come after you. I promise I will, and I’ll – I’ll put you in the hospital.”
