The Truth Lucy Spoke (The Truth Turned Upside Down Book 2) Read online

  Lucy knew her mom was getting ready to lose it. She had been planning a great diversion several interchanges ago.

  “ I hope it’s a boy,”Lucy said, loud and straight-backed, staring into the pages of one of her grandma’s thick yellowing cookbooks. “We need some more boys around here, Dad’s totally and hopelessly outnumbered.”

  Grandma snorted and shook her head, but Lucy did not stop talking. She rattled off a list of names she considered strong and asked Grandma which ones she liked the best. Shockingly, Grandma had an opinion about which names were better, and slowly, the conversation steered away from Anne to a teen living class Lucy was taking at school. They were teaching child-rearing by making the students babysit a hard-boiled egg for seven days straight.

  Grandma took a seat and began to ask Lucy about how the school year had been going, and eventually, what her plans were for college. They sat there in the kitchen for a long time, chatting about many different things comfortably, and with great pleasure, it seemed. Dianna watched for a while before exiting the kitchen, a mixture of emotions weighing heavily down upon her.

  Honestly, she was grateful. Lucy had pointedly interceded for her right before she might have played into her mother’s routine manipulation. As the minutes went by and Dianna faded back into the living room, she grew increasingly jealous of her daughter and of her ability to command her mother’s attention. What did her mother see in Lucy that she had not seen in her? Dianna let the painful abandonment grow inside until it spilled out onto the uncomfortable relationship that she had with Lucy.

  As hard as she tried, she could not tease these two disconnects apart in her mind. Blindly, she could not see her childhood rejection playing out in the life of her youngest daughter and at her hand. Luckily, she never overheard her mother tell Lucy that she was the favorite grandchild. After a while, Dianna stopped caring and decided; she would be the first to go to bed.

  2

  Alex

  He watched her, glancing periodically to the right, on their drive home from her grandmother’s house. Anne stared blankly out the passenger side window, mesmerized by internal thoughts of which Alex was not a part.

  It was always awkward spending a holiday like Thanksgiving with someone else’s family, and he had been happy when she had squeezed his hand and asked him if he wanted to leave instead of spending the night. It was hard to know whether this unfamiliar collection of people would one day be his extended family, or if the lumpy mash potatoes had been a once in a lifetime experience. He could live without the potatoes he decided, but hoped his future included her.

  Looking back on their brief and intense courtship before the news of the pregnancy, Anne had been the one to initiate that first date, even though he had dreamed of dating her months before. They met at work, and before Anne asked him out, Alex often made excuses to stop by her cubicle, ask questions to which he already knew the answer to, or borrow paper that he did not need -to steal precious moments with her.

  “Do you know the copy machine is down right now,” Alex said, with a worried look on his face. Anne had shaken her head to indicate that she did not, and thanked him while trying to hide her amusement.

  Initially, caught off guard by her first text about dinner, he had been under the impression Anne was already dating someone. She had occasionally received large bouquets of plump, red roses at the office, and Alex had once walked in on what felt like a PG-13 phone call, causing him to blush and stammer.

  “Oh, I think you would like that very much,” she said, purringly into the phone receiver, looking up at Alex, smiling, and in no hurry to end the phone call.

  She denied there was anyone else in the picture on that first date, and there were no indications of another man as time went on. Anne was not, and had never been, secretive when he was at her apartment, and she had not given him any reason to believe their relationship was not monogamous. Even so, the baby had been a total surprise. They had been careful on two counts, her birth control and his condoms, but that’s how life was sometimes with unexpected twists and upside downs.

  “I’m pregnant,” she said, casually, and looked up at him, unflinching, and then proceeded to finish her burger.

  Alex’s parents had been shocked when he told them about the baby; they had only met Anne a few times in the six months they had been dating, although they seemed to like her right away. His mom cried at first, but held his hands, looked him in the eye, and told him he would be a great father. Alex’s dad needed more time. He left his wife and son in the wake of this news and took a long walk around his stately neighborhood.

  “I am going to get some fresh air,” he said, smiling at his son and wife, pushing a mix of angry and disappointed feelings down until he was out of their sight.

  On the walk, he let his mind fill with memories of his father and the words he had shared with him when he had first learned of Alex. He did not believe Anne was the right girl for his son. He did not think they should have a baby together, but he was wise enough to know that those feelings belonged only to him and that to share them in light of the new information would only hurt his relationship with his son.

  When Alex’s dad returned, he walked up to his son and, with watery eyes, he extended both arms. The two men clasped hands and then embraced warmly. Alex’s shoulders relaxed, safe in the arms and acceptance of his father, who would be there if things went south.

  Anne had wanted Alex to be with her when she told her parents about the baby, and he had agreed immediately. Her parents barely reacted initially, which was good because she had decided to tell them in public, at their favorite Italian restaurant, Guidos. Anne set up the scene, almost as if she was going to announce their engagement.

  “So, Mom and Dad, tonight is a special night for us, and I wanted to share it with you both here at your special place,” Anne announced as she put down her glass of water and looked up, giddily, at John and Dianna.

  Dianna froze with her fork in mid-air and hastily looked at John, and then back at Alex.

  “Alex and I love each other very much, and we are going to have a baby together,” said Anne.

  Dianna finished her bite of pasta, set her fork down gently on the plate, and turned a confused gaze to Anne. They both sat, motionless, eyes locked on one another, waiting for the other to react first. John pushed his chair, clumsily out from the table, and put both hands on top of his head. Alex was not expecting either one of these reactions, and although he wanted to help, he could think of absolutely nothing helpful to say, so he stared uncomfortably into his lap.

  “Are you two going to get married?” John asked, looking straight at Anne, who remained a virtual stone, mirroring the confused look on Dianna’s face. The weighty question hung in the air, unanswered until eventually, a waiter brought them the check.

  The car ride home from the restaurant had been very quiet. Alex and Anne sat in the backseat, like two naughty children who were waiting to hear the details of their restriction, while John and Dianna each busied themselves, one with driving and the other in pursuit of something elusive in her purse. Alex decided he should leave and let Anne speak privately with her parents about the matter once they arrived home. Anne decided that she should go too, without any further discussion, and within minutes of her parents’ car pulling in their driveway, two pairs of taillights faded away from where John stood, looking out from his living room window.

  “Now you’ve done it,” he thought, silently, “Nobody’s fixing this FOR you, Annebelle, you’re gonna have to face the music on this one.”

  “Should we go to her apartment?” Dianna asked anxiously, breaking John’s internal conversation with himself.

  “You can,” he said flatly. “I am going to bed.”

  When the parents-to-be met up the following day, Anne confided that after they left, her parents had phoned her, and her dad had blown up (typical), and her mom had freaked out (classic), which is why she had wanted him along in the first place. Alex underst
ood that this was a difficult situation and suggested that Anne give her parents time to calm down and process it. Anne said she could care less about what they thought and changed the subject quickly.

  “I know we are still getting to know each other Anne, but I do love you, and one day, I hope we will get married, even though I know that’s not what you want right now,” Alex whispered into her ear, as they sat watching a horror movie on Anne’s comfy couch.

  “Time will tell,” Anne whispered back, squeezing his hand hard during a jump scare, and she then looked over her shoulder at an Auburn baseball cap hanging on the coat rack beside the front door of her apartment. She glanced back at Alex, who had turned back to watching the movie, and thought about her unborn baby’s future.

  She believed that Alex would be a good dad, kind and available whenever either one of them needed him. She did not think he would ever hit her or step out on her with another woman. She trusted he would make enough money that she would not have to worry about bills, groceries, or mortgages, but did he excite her? The honest answer was no, not really. The real question was not if she could marry Alex, but if she could live with so little excitement?

  A baby would surely bring other types of excitement, sweet memorable milestones, and long days blurring into occasional, sleepless nights. She would make new friends who were also married with babies, and go to birthday parties with these new families, and that would be exciting! Eventually, she would grow old and drink wine with these married women, who would have ultimately lost all their excitement, too. They would laugh about it and commiserate with each other over dinners at posh restaurants. It was all so normal and evolutionary. She would merely be starting earlier with the mundane existence compared to the average gal, and wasn’t it just like her to be a trendsetter!

  Still, if she let herself, she could feel his soft hands, how he gently played with her hair right before they said goodbye. Anne would never get enough of Mark, and if that kind of excitement were still available, no matter how intermittent, she would not marry Alex. He didn’t text her as often as he used to. However, her phone still lit up occasionally, and when it did, the world around her ceased to exist.

  “Meet me in half an hour,” the texts would read. “Same spot as last time, I need to see you…”

  Baby or no baby, she would find a way to see him. Her addiction to him was more potent than any drug or alcohol, and through the years, she wanted to believe she had developed a hold on him too.

  Anne knew Charlotte was aware Mark was having an affair, but she didn’t care. It was not her fault that he wanted her, and she did not feel guilty for being involved with a married man. Life was like that sometimes, and she could take happiness when it came her way. Everyone had parts of their life that no one knew about, she was sure of this, and telling the truth about everything to everyone was just… unnecessary.

  3

  Playing Favorites

  John loaded up the last of the suitcases and looked up towards the front door. He could see dark shadows standing just inside the glass door, but no one stepped out onto the porch. Dianna had complained the entire previous evening that she was ready to leave, but then there he was, the only one standing out in the driveway beside a running car-waiting.

  John walked around to the driver’s side and killed the engine. He slipped the car keys in his wrinkled pants pocket and crossed the front yard leading back to the porch steps and into his mother-in-law’s living room. Everyone was standing around, taking turns hugging and saying goodbye. John smiled politely, but on the inside, he was angry. They were falling further and further behind schedule. Walking up to Dianna, he discretely pinched the back of her arm, a warning. She flinched, and slit her eyes at him, nodding her head in an icy manner. She was waiting for her turn patiently, dutifully, to say goodbye to her mother.

  “Calm down,” she hissed, moving away from John and watching Lucy across the room.

  Lucy sat close to her grandmother on the chenille couch, a wrinkled hand weighing heavily on her faded blue jeans.

  “You know you’re my favorite.” the old woman whispered into Lucy’s long red hair and smiled at her through watery, bright-blue eyes. Lucy smiled back, lovingly, but something about this word favorite sat funny with her; what did it mean?

  To be favored meant that you received things that other people did not.

  Of course, when you were favored, it felt beautiful and magical, but what did it feel like to be unfavored? When someone chose to un-favor you, it seemed as though when you were around that person, you ceased to exist. It was as if you instantly became a version of yourself that someone else decided for you. The pain of that dismissal of your TRUE self could be so guttural that it could make you not want to exist at all- in any form.

  Dianna stood in the corner of the living room, running her metal zipper up and down her jacket, waiting. Lucy knew that, like herself, her mother was no stranger to the ugly side of favoritism. Her heart ached with sadness that the lesson between generations seemed to be unfolding too slowly for her mom and her grandmother. Was it also too late for her and Anne?Would the pain of this favored/unfavored legacy get passed on to their children through their hands? Lucy decided it was imperative that it not.

  Anne left last night without saying goodbye to anyone. They had gotten along so well yesterday, planning to cook breakfast in the morning for the family, so it surprised her to find her sister’s bed made and empty this morning. That was how it was with Anne; you never knew what she might do or if she would follow through when you needed her most. It had always been this way, Lucy thought, with a mixture of sadness and anger. She was like a slick sheet of ice, nothing stuck to her, least of all how her actions impacted other people.

  Giving her grandma one last hug, Lucy rose to make room for her mom, who suddenly stopped fidgeting, crossed the room and sat down with her mother, to try again.

  Half an hour later, John backed the car out of the drive, and they all waved to Grandma, as she stood in heels and an apron on the small front porch. Lucy plugged her phone into the charger and looked out the window one last time. She always imagined, when they left, that this might be the last time she would see her grandmother alive, although she hoped desperately, that it would not be.

  As the car turned out of the neighborhood, Dianna sighed loudly and began her typical rant about all the things that her mom had said and done to make her angry or sad. John agreed, validated all her points for about twenty minutes, and then-he stopped actively listening. Lucy continued to listen and ponder her mother’s complaints. Many of the things she hated about how her mother treated her were oddly identical to the ways Dianna treated Lucy.

  Was it that hard to see, Lucy thought? A mother with two daughters-one treated less worthy, and one adored, a simple Grimm’s fairy tale if you wrote it down on paper. The pointless ignorance of it made Lucy feel extra tired, and she snuggled down low in her travel pillow, shutting her eyes tight, mercifully plugging in both skull earbuds.

  Dianna glanced in the rearview mirror and waited for Lucy’s eyes to remain blissfully shut for more than five minutes. She had waited to have this conversation with John all weekend but did not want to hear her youngest daughter’s thoughts. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to hear Johns.

  “How do you think the pregnancy news went over with the family?” she asked, in a low-strained voice, looking straight ahead and not anywhere near her husband’s bloodshot gaze.

  John gripped the wheel slightly preparing his response well before he spoke it aloud, “I don’t know, I think they all thought it was weird like we do, and sad for the baby that the parents can’t get their lives together before it’s born.” he said.

  “Anne has her life together,” Dianna snapped. “She is just not sure she wants to marry Alex; he is different than the other guys she’s dated, and she is not obligated to marry him, just because she is having his baby.

  “Tell that to the baby when it has to live with choices she�
�s making for both he and Alex,” John argued. “Contrary to popular opinion, Anne doesn’t live inside a consequence-free, Anne-bubble.

  “We don’t know the baby is a boy, John, that’s ridiculous!” Dianna scoffed, as she uncrossed her legs and reached defiantly into her purse for a breath mint.

  John knew this was going nowhere good and reached down to turn on the radio for some relief. Leaning his seat back just a bit further, he thought about how he had imagined becoming a grandparent would feel. His mom had talked with him about it the very last time he had seen her alive.

  “You’re gonna be a fine husband and daddy one day with this college behind you now,” she had said to John, as she lay in the white hospital bed, waiting to die from cancer. “I wish I could have been at your graduation today, but you know, they said I couldn’t leave here with my low blood counts like this, John.”

  John clearly remembered her smiling up at him, from a loving face that was too small, and a broken body that was too weak to belong to his mom. His dad, who had not attended the graduation either, stood in the corner, silent, offering no congratulations or hope for John’s future success at anything.

  “It all goes so fast, John!” she said. “One day, your babies will have babies, and won’t that be a miracle! Please tell them all about us and the creek, honey.” Her voice softened, and she laid her hand, reverently, on her youngest child’s head, whispering, “They’re all going to love you, John, everyone always has.”

  John stared out the window and thought about his own family and how nothing had turned out the way his mom described. He had not turned out how she thought he would. Instead of feeling joyful about becoming a grandfather, John felt anxious that Dianna would become consumed with trying to save Anne, from Anne. There was nothing you could do but throw your hands up with either one of them, and logic never seemed to color any of their decisions.