Family Secrets

Chapter One

I met Kent when I was in college. I used to go to the bookstore/cafe to study. I'd bring my laptop and my books, grab a cup of coffee, and park myself at a small table. I was quiet, studious, introverted, and a total loner. I don't even know why he approached me. But he did.

At first he would talk to me at the cafe. He'd ask the usual questions. What are you studying? or How do you study in here with all the people bustling around you? Conversations went on like that for a couple weeks before he actually asked if I wanted to go out with him.

He was in law school and went to the cafe to get away from all the stress of studying. He would pick a fiction book off the shelf, read it, then put it back. I told him I thought that was what the library was for and he laughed.

He seemed sweet and over the next six months we dated. I told him I didn't want to get romantically involved. I was too overwhelmed with school, working part time, and I also had a non-paying internship. He said he understood and we could take things slow.

Kent was amazing the first year we were dating. He graduated law school and I graduated college. He asked me to move in with him instead of back home, and I refused.

I'm just not ready for that, I told him. Once again, he told me he understood.

Once we were working and out of school, we had more time to see each other. Sometimes I would spend the night with him, yet we never had sex. He never pressured me and would always stop when I said no.

The following Christmas Eve he proposed. I hesitantly accepted. I guess I should have listened to that little voice inside me. The one that was telling me something wasn't right. He was too good to be true. Instead I listened to the other words, the ones that said no one else would ever be interested in me. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't smart enough. I wasn't... enough.

Christmas Day we went to his parents’ house. His mother was a petite, demure woman, who hardly spoke five words. She rarely made eye contact. Kent's father barked orders at her. I was very uncomfortable in their house. As soon as we were in the car, Kent apologized. Not for his father's behavior as you might expect.

I'm sorry my mother was a little out of sorts today, he said, taking my hand. It's all the stress of the holidays. It gets to her every year.

New Year's Eve, Kent and I went out to dinner, then to a club. He told me what to wear, chose my dinner for me, and ordered my drinks. It didn't occur to me to object. We stayed out until midnight and kissed as everyone cheered for the New Year. Just as our lips separated, his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller id and tilted his head.

Hello? Hold on, it's too noisy in here. He grabbed my arm a little too tightly and pulled me out of the club.

Yes? When? Mhm, okay, do you need me to come out tonight? He was looking away from me for the entire conversation. All right, I understand. I'll be there first thing in the morning.

We went to his car, got in, and he drove us back to his place without a word. I had no idea what the phone call was all about. When we got to the apartment, he went straight into the bedroom, tossed his clothes on the floor, and curled up on his side of the bed. Usually when I spent the night, he would wrap his arms around me. I picked up his things and put them in the hamper. I got undressed and slipped into bed. He didn't move.

***

The next morning he said he had some things he had to take care of.

It's New Year's Day. We had planned to go to my parents' house. What could you possibly...?

He whipped around and glared at me.

Okay I'll go alone, I said.

I'll call you later.

The next day he called and told me to take two days off from work. When I asked why he said we had a wake and a funeral to attend.

Who died?

My parents.

What?

New Year's Eve.

Why didn't you tell me?

I'll take you shopping for something to wear tomorrow morning, he told me then hung up the phone.

We arrived at the funeral home a short time before the wake was scheduled to begin. I figured he wanted some time alone. When we walked in, he was holding my hand. He didn't let go as we were led into the viewing room. Both caskets were closed.

I'm sorry for your loss, the funeral director said to me. I nodded politely.

Open it, Kent demanded, looking at the first casket.

Sir, I don't think that...

OPEN. IT.

It was his father. I thought it was unusual that he was wearing a hat. Kent stepped closer and moved the hat. I wanted to wretch.

And the other one, Kent mumbled.

Mrs. Bryant had a scarf over part of her face. Kent lifted it and again, my stomach lurched.

Fucking bitch, I heard Kent say under his breath.

I found out later that his mother had shot his father at point blank range in the head. He had been sleeping and didn't feel a thing. Then she turned the gun on herself.

***

We cleaned up his parents’ house, stored the things he wanted to keep, sold or donated the rest, and put the house up for sale. He never talked about his parents' death, never grieved the loss, at least not in front of me.

Six months later, we got married. It was a simple civil ceremony. My parents were thrilled. My sister was jealous. Kent was a charming man with a brilliant future as a lawyer. They had no idea he had a dark side. At the time, I didn't know how sinister he could be.

For our honeymoon, Kent took me to Acapulco. We had a beautiful suite with a gorgeous view the beach.

This is absolutely amazing, Kent. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be in a place like this. I was looking through the sliding glass doors over the crystal blue ocean.

He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I'm glad you approve.

This must be costing you a fortune.

You're worth it, Baby. Besides, I'm using the money from the sale of the house. And I have enough left over for a down payment when I'm ready to find a house of my own.

He turned me around and covered my lips with his. I felt like a princess in a fairy tale. I knew everything was going to be great. I loved him. And for some unknown reason, he loved me too.

He leaned back slightly and asked if I wanted to take a walk on the beach. After that, we had dinner at the hotel. When we returned to the room, he said, Why don't you go take a shower and cool off? I'm going to order us some champagne.

I had just turned off the water when Kent came into the bathroom and opened the shower curtain. He smiled at me and offered me his hand. I took it and stepped out. He wrapped me in a towel and we moved into the bedroom.

Here's to us, he said, handing me a glass of champagne.

To us, I repeated as I tapped my glass against his.

That night, Kent was sweet, gentle, and compassionate. It was the first time I had ever been intimate with a man. Kent knew that. He took his time with me. He caressed and kissed me, told me how beautiful I was, and made me feel like I was special. And when he entered me for the first time, he apologized for hurting me and pulled back.

I'm sorry Baby. I can tell by the look on your face I'm hurting you. He brushed his lips against mine and whispered. We'll take it slow, okay?

It's all right, Kent. Just make love to me.

***

Over the next year, he continued to be a wonderful husband. He bought me gifts, he left little love notes, and he showed me how he liked the apartment to look. Everything had its place. The sheets had to be washed and ironed weekly, and the bed had to be made just so. Once or twice in the beginning, he would toss a quarter on the bed. I watched as the coin fell solidly onto the sheet.

Did you see that? It's supposed to bounce. Strip it and do it again.

After the third try, his nod told me he was satisfied. I was pleased with myself.

Kent taught me how to make the perfect martini. He said every good wife made sure her husband had a martini when he came home. He instructed me how to cook his meals. Lettuce had to be torn, not cut. Tomatoes had to be sliced, not made into wedges. Steak had to be seared on the outside and pink and warm in the middle. A few times he chucked dinner into the garbage and made me start all over again.

For our six month anniversary, Kent took me out to dinner. He gave me a dozen roses and diamond earrings. We had a wonderful time. The waiter brought the check. As Kent took out his wallet he said to me, I bought a house. The closing is Friday. We're moving this weekend. Take Friday off and pack up the apartment. He wasn't even looking at me as he spoke. The mover is coming Saturday morning. I expect everything to be in order.

Where is it? What is it like?

You'll see it Saturday.

Something told me not to question him anymore. It didn't occur to me that he made a major life decision without discussing it with me first.

The waiter returned, taking the bill and the credit card.

Oh, and I know we never talked about it before, but don't think that now that we have a house, it is time to have children. I want to wait at least another year or so.

I wanted to be more settled in my career first anyway.

His eyes flashed to mine. You're staying home with the children.

Oh. I thought we would put them in daycare so I could continue working.

He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked at his watch and said, Don't be silly, Baby. You won't need to work. He glanced around for the waiter. By the time we have children, I'll be making more than enough money to support us.

The waiter returned, Kent signed the receipt, and we headed home.

I was disappointed in myself. I should have talked to him about all this before we got married. I watched the street lights go by, mesmerized by the flashes and my thoughts. He's absolutely right, my inner voice told me. I'll probably be stuck in an entry level position and the money I make won't be enough to cover for daycare.

I nodded.

What cha thinking, Baby?

I love you, was all I could think of saying.

That night, as his hands told me what he wanted, I whispered, I'm really tired tonight.

His hand slid down my abdomen.

Kent, not tonight, please, I begged.

You can't say no to me, Baby. I'm your husband.

So I let him take me as I pondered my existence. What was my purpose? Did I really matter in the grand scheme of things?

Kent grunted and groaned over me. I prayed it would be over soon, that the next time he wanted me, I would want him.

C'mon, Baby. I need you to come. You're too damn dry.

I took a deep breath trying to ignore the pain I felt inside.

Damn it, he growled. What the hell is wrong with you?

I told you I'm...

He forcefully grabbed my wrists and held them over my head.

Now! he commanded.

My eyes flew open and fear filled my heart. I closed my eyes, dropped my head back, moaned, and squeezed him inside me.

That's it, Baby. That's my good girl, mm, yes.

He released and rolled over on to his back. A few minutes later, he turned on his side and rubbed my tummy.

That was great, Baby. He kissed my cheek then looked downward. Aw, shit. Why the hell didn't you tell me you were having your period? That's disgusting.

There was blood on him, not much, just enough to make him mad.

I'm not having my period, I said calmly as I turned away from him.

He pushed me, almost knocking me to the floor.

Get the hell up and change these sheets. And do it right.

Kent went into the bathroom and the water rumbled through the pipes. Without even considering the burning I felt inside me, I stripped the bed and the mattress pad. I remade the bed as tightly as possible, glad that I had a clean mattress pad in the linen closet. Then I threw on a tee shirt and a pair of sweats. I took all the bed clothes and went down to the laundry room, tossing the whole pile into the washer.

By the time I was finished with the laundry, Kent was fast asleep.

***

A year later it was Christmas time. I had tastefully decorated our little cape, wondering if anyone but Kent and I would see all the work I did. He didn't say a thing about it. I knew that meant that I did okay.

My mother called and asked if we were coming for Christmas dinner.

And what did you tell her? he asked without looking at me.

That I would discuss it with you.

He nodded. A few minutes later he told me his boss had invited us to their house for the holiday. I'll take you shopping so you have something that is appropriate to wear.

I knew that meant I would not see my mother for the second Christmas in a row. Our new house was four hours away from my parents' home. I called my mother the next day and explained that we had plans.

Why didn't you tell me yesterday?

I guess I forgot. We are having dinner with some business associates. It's important for his career that he spends time with certain people socially if he wants to move up in the firm.

It's Christmas. It's time for family.

Kent is my family now, Mother.

Maybe you can come up for New Year's? she asked.

I think we have plans then too, I lied. I had the feeling Kent would not want to see my parents.

Who is going to do all the holiday cooking? I had to do it all myself last year.

Tell Amanda I said hello.

Oh, I almost forgot. Your sister is getting married in June. You should be getting an invitation.

That's wonderful. I didn't even know she was seeing someone.

They've been dating for almost a year.

I sighed. I hadn't kept in touch with my own family. Kent had kept me busy at home cleaning and preparing his meals. When I wasn't doing that, I was painting the bathroom, wall papering the spare bedroom, or working in the garden because Kent liked fresh vegetables.

I have to go, Mom. I have to get back to work.

***

We went to one of the finest shops in town to buy a dress. He picked out several and made me try on each and everyone. I came out in the first dress and he grinned.

"You look amazing, but you are not wearing red."

Then why did you pick this one? I asked innocently.

The laugh he emitted made me step back.

Put on the next one.

After several trips in and out of the dressing room he said to me, Go put on the first one again.

But I thought...?

Are you questioning me? he asked in that tone of his.

I shook my head and went back in to the little room. As soon as the zipper was up, the door flew open.

I don't think you're supposed to...

His mouth stopped my words. Kent pressed me up against the mirror, reached under the dress and ripped off my panties.

When he was done, he simply zipped up his trousers, picked up the second dress I had tried on, and opened the door.

Put on your own clothes. We're done.

It took me a few minutes to gather my wits. I tucked my torn underwear into the side pocket of my purse, not knowing what else to do with them. I pulled on my turtleneck and my skirt. I gathered the nine dresses I had tried on and went out of the dressing room.

Kent was standing there with my new gown in a garment bag.

Let's get you some shoes to go with this.

***

Christmas morning, I got up before Kent. I went down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. I had found a new recipe for a cinnamon coffee cake and decided it was a good morning to try it out. I took out the eggs and milk, checking the date on each. Kent always said dairy products spoil two days before the expiration date. I checked the calendar.

Shoot.

I ran back up to the bathroom and pulled out my birth control pills.

Damn it, I whispered.

I took a deep breath and thought, It's only two days. Maybe it's holiday stress. Yeah, that's it. I rubbed my belly. Yup, I'm just going to be late this month.

The cake filled the house with a sweet warm aroma and it soothed away my fears. I forgot about my problem.

I knew he would want more than just coffee cake. On Sundays and holidays, he expected a grand breakfast. I put some bacon in the frying pan and put the metal netting over it to avoid the grease from splattering all over the stove. Then I whipped three eggs, cut up some peppers and onions, grated some fresh cheddar, and heated another frying pan to make an omelet. As the eggs and bacon finished cooking, I cut a grapefruit in half and sprinkled his side with one half teaspoon of sugar.

I swear; Kent always had perfect timing. The second everything was ready and I had gotten it all on the table he walked into the dining room.

Something sure smells good.

He sat down in his chair. I sat in mine at the other end. He folded his hands and said grace. He picked up his fork and took a bite of his omelet. I waited. He took a second bite.

Eat, he said to me.

I was waiting to see if it was to your liking.

Not really. But it's Christmas so I will let it slide this time.

I picked up my spoon and began on my grapefruit.

Dinner is at four, he announced.

Yes. You told me.

I figured you would forget. You've been a little scatter-brained lately.

I nodded.

How much bacon did you cook?

Only four slices. Did you want more?

What did you do with the rest?

I put it back in the refrigerator. I thought maybe I could cook it tomorrow and use it on a salad.

Is that all you're making me for dinner tomorrow? There was annoyance in his voice.

Of course not, Kent, you told me you wanted a roast beef. I just thought I would make a salad with it.

Good girl.

I finished my grapefruit and my one egg white. Can I get you anything else?

No.

I'm going to clean up the kitchen.

He didn't reply. I got up and took my dishes with me. I started washing the frying pans. A few minutes later he hollered, Are you going to cut me a piece of this coffee cake?

I turned off the water and rushed into the dining room. As I handed him his plate he asked, Are you having any?

I made it for you.

Good. You don't need it anyway.

I cleared his dishes and returned to my duties.

***

Three days later, I stopped at the drugstore on my way to work. I went straight to the ladies room. Three minutes later, my worst fear was realized. I could feel the tears well in my eyes. Luckily, that evening Kent was in a great mood. He was sweet and attentive. At dinner, I thought it would be a good time to tell him.

Can we talk?

Sure Baby. What's up?

Um, I know you wanted to wait to have a child. And, well, I did too.

He lifted his eyes up from the newspaper he was reading. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words got stuck between my brain and my lips.

You can tell me anything, Baby. You know that right?

I poked at my food a moment. Um, I was late so I stopped by the drugstore this morning and... I blew out a long breath. I could feel a lump build in my throat. I think I'm pregnant.

He folded the paper and put it down.

I mean, the test could be wrong. I made an appointment...

So how late are you exactly? he asked.

Almost a week.

I see. And you waited this long to tell me?

I thought it might just be the stress of the holidays and...

Stress? Stress? You have no damn idea what stress is. What the fuck! He pushed his chair back and stood up. I cringed.

You're so stupid. You can't even take a freaking pill. Shit.

It'll be fine, Kent.

He looked out the dining room window.

I could make you have an abortion, he stated calmly.

I swallowed hard. He wouldn't. Would he?

When is your appointment?

January fourth.

What time?

Nine.

I'll make a spot on my calendar. I'm going to my office. Bring me a martini and then clean up the kitchen.

***

I was secretly elated when my pregnancy was confirmed. Kent gave me the silent treatment for a few days. It was a welcomed change. Slowly things returned to the way they had been and he was back to barking orders and demanding intimacy. At first he was more aggressive in bed and I prayed my little one would be well protected in the fluid surrounding the baby.

Kent came with me to my sixteen week checkup. When the technician said she could reveal the gender, I begged her not to tell us. Kent made a snide comment.

She glanced briefly at my husband and said, It is your first. Many couples wait to find out for their first.

What the hell did I come for if we aren't going to find out?

Neither the technician or I answered.

As the pregnancy progressed and my tummy grew, Kent was less and less interested in physical intimacy. However, my condition did not stop him from criticizing everything I did. He even made rude comments about the maternity clothes I wore.

Chapter Two

Lindsay was the light of my life. Kent had wanted a boy and did not hide his disappointment in me. He said if I was any kind of a woman, I would have given him a son. I think that was the first time I had inkling that he was not always right. I knew that it was the sperm that determined the sex of the child, not the egg. Still, I felt responsible.

Kent insisted I nurse Lindsay. It didn't matter. I was determined to do it even if he had said I couldn't. Because I was nursing, I could not go back on the pill. For the first couple of months, we used condoms and he complained about it constantly. One day, he told me to get a diaphragm. I hated it. Whenever he was in the mood, he would tell me ahead of time.

Go get ready for me, he used to say. It made my stomach tighten.

Then there were the times that he just didn't care. I hated those times even more. He would wake up excited and take me. I would pretend for him in order to avoid being berated. Because he didn't always give me time to put in the diaphragm, I soon wound up pregnant again. And once more, he blamed me. He took me to the doctor to confirm the pregnancy.

How soon can we schedule an appointment for an abortion? he asked the doctor.

I was shocked. The two of them talked about the termination of my child's life as if it was a tumor. It disgusted me.

While you're in there, can you put in an IUD or something? Kent asked without feeling. I thought I was going to vomit.

We can't do that at the same time. Her uterus needs to recover. We can schedule something a few weeks after the termination or there are other long term options.

She needs something that she doesn't have to think about daily. I want a son, but not for at least a year. I can't trust her to take a damn pill for a year.

If she's nursing, an hormonal implant won't work. The doctor looked down at me and asked, Aren't you using your diaphragm?

He doesn't always give me the time...

Do not put the blame on me. You're the stupid one.

I opened my mouth to speak then I just shook my head. I knew if I said anything in front of the doctor, I would hear about it later. He and Kent socialized in the same circles.

The day of the procedure, he reluctantly took the day off from work. The doctor had told him I could not drive myself home afterward. We had to bring Lindsay with us. Kent sat in the waiting room with her. I prayed she would behave.

Once I was in the room alone with the nurse, I almost told her I had changed my mind. I was about to speak when the door opened and the doctor came in. He asked how I was feeling and I just said, Fine.

He nodded.

When we got back home, Kent said, She needs to be changed and fed. I'll be in my office.

I thought that would be the worst day of my life.

***

Luckily for me, my little angel continued to be a wonderful baby. She rarely cried. She was content and happy. I loved being a stay at home mom. I would take her everywhere with me. People would comment on how beautiful and good-natured she was. It made me feel good about myself, better than anything I had ever experienced before.

For Lindsay's fifth birthday I wanted to have a party with her friends from kindergarten. I spoke with Kent about the idea.

I don't want a bunch of five year old kids screaming and running all over my house. I'm sure you can find an appropriate venue for a birthday party.

So I investigated some of the local places specializing in children's birthday parties. I made a list of children in Lindsay's class. I took all my information to Kent. He looked at each option and said, No, uh uh, nope, all while shaking his head. Find someplace else.

I've checked everywhere.

Apparently not because I am sure there is some place you can do this. You just haven't tried hard enough.

But I had. I looked everywhere and showed him every option other than the play scape at McDonald's.

"Can