Read Online Unbreathed Memories by Marcia Talley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marcia Talley
Ads: Link
sorts of atrocities!” He jabbed a finger in the air. “And that damn woman sitting behind her desk, egging Georgina on …” A shudder ran through his body. “I tell you, I just cracked. Lost my temper and yelled at the two of themuntil my throat was sore. Goddamn therapist!” He searched my face for understanding. “I got out of there, pumpkin. Jesus! It was like Jonestown without the Kool-Aid! I got out of that hellhole and never went back.”
I turned from him then, sick with confusion. It seemed a hundred miles to the sink, but I managed to get there and lean over it, the metal hard and cold beneath my hands. Outside the window, a bird hopped gaily from limb to limb of the sycamore tree. I felt like popping it one. Why should he be allowed to be so happy when our world was falling apart?
“Granddaddy? Are you sick?” I spun around. Julie! My niece stood at her grandfather’s knee, Abby dangling by one bedraggled ear from her chubby fist. How much had she heard?
My father raised his head from where it rested on his arms and smiled at his granddaughter. “No, honey, your granddaddy’s just a little bit tired.” He laid a gentle hand on top of her head, then stroked her cheek with his thumb.
Julie studied him seriously, a worried look on her face. She was the image of her mother at the age of four; her copper ponytails hung like fat sausages, just grazing her shoulders. “Abby wants a drink.”
I took Julie’s hand and steered her gently away from the table. “Let’s take care of Abby,” I said. While the officers made small talk behind me, I rummaged quickly in the refrigerator, coming up with a carton of orange juice and a Pyrex dish of yellow cheese cubes covered with plastic wrap. I hustled Julie out of the room. When I had her settled again on the family room couch I watched with affection as she offered her cheese first to Abby, then when Abby didn’t appear to care for cheese, thank you, nibbled on it herself.
Abby wasn’t the only one who had completely lost her appetite. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to eat again. How could Daddy? How could anybody? I swallowed hard. “Impossible,” I said aloud. “Absolutely impossible.”
chapter
5
I decided to hide out downstairs with the children until the police had finished their business. I couldn’t bear to watch my father shrivel with humiliation before my eyes. He was my hero—the man who had bought me a cowgirl suit with cap pistols on my sixth birthday; who had wiped away my tears when the boy of my dreams jilted me for a bleach-blond cheerleader; who had walked me down the aisle, tall and proud, the day I married Paul.
When I heard the front door slam and felt my spine relax into the sofa cushions, I realized how tense I had been. But my brain still churned. What would I do if Daddy continued to insist that I not tell Mother about Georgina’s wild claims? Yet Mom had looked drained, the deep lines in her brow already reflecting the wearying burden of the mess Georgina had gotten herself into. How could I heap on this new disaster?
When their grandfather appeared at the foot of the basement stairs, Sean and Dylan each grabbed a hand and dragged him toward the pool table. Dad spent thetime jockeying a little footstool around so they could reach the table to play eight-ball. In his grandchildren’s company, I watched the worried frown evaporate. Daddy wore the benign countenance of an innocent man with an unshakable belief in the infallibility of the system. As he racked up the balls for the boys, I wanted to slap him hard on both cheeks and shout, Wake up! Life is not like the movies. Truth doesn’t always reign triumphant .
I left the children sending the cue ball ricocheting dangerously around the table and dashed upstairs to clean up the kitchen, reasoning that Mom would surely notice how the coffee cups had multiplied in her absence. I was inverting a souvenir mug from New Orleans over a peg in the dishwasher, feeling like
I turned from him then, sick with confusion. It seemed a hundred miles to the sink, but I managed to get there and lean over it, the metal hard and cold beneath my hands. Outside the window, a bird hopped gaily from limb to limb of the sycamore tree. I felt like popping it one. Why should he be allowed to be so happy when our world was falling apart?
“Granddaddy? Are you sick?” I spun around. Julie! My niece stood at her grandfather’s knee, Abby dangling by one bedraggled ear from her chubby fist. How much had she heard?
My father raised his head from where it rested on his arms and smiled at his granddaughter. “No, honey, your granddaddy’s just a little bit tired.” He laid a gentle hand on top of her head, then stroked her cheek with his thumb.
Julie studied him seriously, a worried look on her face. She was the image of her mother at the age of four; her copper ponytails hung like fat sausages, just grazing her shoulders. “Abby wants a drink.”
I took Julie’s hand and steered her gently away from the table. “Let’s take care of Abby,” I said. While the officers made small talk behind me, I rummaged quickly in the refrigerator, coming up with a carton of orange juice and a Pyrex dish of yellow cheese cubes covered with plastic wrap. I hustled Julie out of the room. When I had her settled again on the family room couch I watched with affection as she offered her cheese first to Abby, then when Abby didn’t appear to care for cheese, thank you, nibbled on it herself.
Abby wasn’t the only one who had completely lost her appetite. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to eat again. How could Daddy? How could anybody? I swallowed hard. “Impossible,” I said aloud. “Absolutely impossible.”
chapter
5
I decided to hide out downstairs with the children until the police had finished their business. I couldn’t bear to watch my father shrivel with humiliation before my eyes. He was my hero—the man who had bought me a cowgirl suit with cap pistols on my sixth birthday; who had wiped away my tears when the boy of my dreams jilted me for a bleach-blond cheerleader; who had walked me down the aisle, tall and proud, the day I married Paul.
When I heard the front door slam and felt my spine relax into the sofa cushions, I realized how tense I had been. But my brain still churned. What would I do if Daddy continued to insist that I not tell Mother about Georgina’s wild claims? Yet Mom had looked drained, the deep lines in her brow already reflecting the wearying burden of the mess Georgina had gotten herself into. How could I heap on this new disaster?
When their grandfather appeared at the foot of the basement stairs, Sean and Dylan each grabbed a hand and dragged him toward the pool table. Dad spent thetime jockeying a little footstool around so they could reach the table to play eight-ball. In his grandchildren’s company, I watched the worried frown evaporate. Daddy wore the benign countenance of an innocent man with an unshakable belief in the infallibility of the system. As he racked up the balls for the boys, I wanted to slap him hard on both cheeks and shout, Wake up! Life is not like the movies. Truth doesn’t always reign triumphant .
I left the children sending the cue ball ricocheting dangerously around the table and dashed upstairs to clean up the kitchen, reasoning that Mom would surely notice how the coffee cups had multiplied in her absence. I was inverting a souvenir mug from New Orleans over a peg in the dishwasher, feeling like
Similar Books
