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One By One(65)

Author:Freida McFadden

I must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I knew, I could hear the lock turning in the front door. I yawned and sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. My father was finally home—I could hear his voice.

And another familiar voice.

My heart was pounding. I stood up from the bed and walked over to the door, which was slightly ajar. I peeked outside my bedroom, at the staircase leading to the front door.

My father’s voice: “Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?”

“No. I really shouldn’t. I have to be up early tomorrow morning.”

“Maybe you should just move in here then.”

“God, can you imagine what people would say?”

“She’s been dead for almost two years, Jeannette. It’s been long enough.”

“I don’t know…”

“Fine. Go home. Just let me say goodbye first.”

I took a step back as I watched my father kiss my mother’s sister.

It was exactly what my mom had accused him of that night she killed herself. She said he was fooling around with her sister. She screamed at him that all his business trips were just excuses to cheat. At the time, I thought she was crazy. My dad would never do anything like that.

I was wrong.

He was kissing Aunt Jeanette deep enough that he could probably taste her breakfast. He had no idea I was watching. It was all his goddamn secret.

He tortured my mother. She was crazy, but he made it worse. She was always paranoid about losing him, and now I could see why. And he didn’t care that she took it out on me. He just let it all happen. His secret life was too important to him.

He said good night to Jeannette and she took off in her white Toyota. I never said a word. I couldn’t have, even if I wanted to. I felt too sick to talk.

I stood on the second floor as my dad went into the kitchen. I could hear him pouring himself a drink. He turned on the news and watched for a while. I was dimly aware of the newscasters talking. A child disappeared from a playground downtown. The town elections would be held this week. The forecast was calling for rain tomorrow.

It was nearly an hour later when he finally started up the steps to the second floor. I hadn’t budged in all that time. It was only when he got to the top that he saw me standing there.

“Jesus Christ!” He clutched his chest. “I didn’t see you there. What the hell are you doing here?”

You were kissing Aunt Jeanette,” I said.

His eyes widened. “You saw that?”

I nodded.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Look, sport…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Look, I’m sorry.” He frowned. “It’s complicated. I wish you could understand.”

“Complicated?” I repeated. “What’s so complicated? I needed you when I was a kid, and you were off messing around with other women. My mother’s sister, for chrissake. No wonder she went crazy.”

“Oh, you think it was all my fault?” He lifted his eyebrows. “You better own up to your own role. Half the arguments we had were because of you. And your behavior. You think it was easy having a kid like you? Always getting into fights. We had to move after you gauged the eye out of that McCormick kid.”

I swallowed, remembering the day Bryan McCormick teased me about my shaved head and my “cooties.” I had been so angry—I wanted to hurt him. Badly. “That was an accident.”

“Bullshit.” He sneered at me. “That poor kid lost his eye because of you. That was no accident.”

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. It reminded me of the blood that had poured down Bryan’s left cheek as he screamed. “He deserved it.”

“They always did, didn’t they?” He snorted. “I suppose Snowball also deserved what you did to her.”

There was a bitter taste in my mouth as I remembered my mother’s treasured white cat. The one she loved more than me. I will never forget the look on my mom’s face when she discovered what I had done to that cat. All the color had drained from her cheeks and she clasped a hand over her mouth as her legs gave way beneath her. I hadn’t been able to suppress a smile, even when she slapped me hard enough to leave a mark.

Now Snowball was buried in the backyard. My mother was buried in the local cemetery. And Bryan McCormick’s eye was long gone.

“Your mother and I had no idea what to do with you,” he grunted. “We were scared stiff. Why do you think I locked up my rifle and never let you near it anymore? I thought you’d kill us all while we were sleeping.”

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