Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes
Page 52

“Where’s Dora now? Why did Daddy go back to Momma?” I asked.
Aunt Bessie’s lips pursed together and she chose her words carefully. She looked at me, tenderness on her face. I knew the answer before she even spoke the words.
“She’s dead, darlin’. She died in a car wreck, right before the Christmas after you were born.” Aunt Bessie’s eyes teared up. “Your Momma, she was bound and determined to get your daddy back. So she went to confront Dora after she got off work. They had a terrible fight in the parking lot, and your Momma threatened Dora, said she’d see her dead before she’d let your daddy go.” Aunt Bessie shook her head. “Dora ran off the road on the way home and crashed into a tree, killed instantly. We were all so thankful you weren’t in the car. The police thought it looked like the brake lines had been cut, but honestly, the police in Henryetta have always been known to botch investigations. So in the end there was no proof that your Momma had anything to do with it, even though the police suspected she did.”
Violet and I clutched each other’s hands in stunned silence.
“Well, your daddy, he was devastated. He loved Dora with all his heart, but he had a new baby.” Aunt Bessie wiped a tear off her cheek and looked me in the eyes. “He loved you, Rose, but he was too upset to take care of you. Part of him died with Dora that day. So he brought you to Earl and me. Your Momma swooped in and convinced your daddy that she forgave him and begged him to come back home. But she couldn’t lose face with the town, so she and Violet came to live with us for several months, until enough time elapsed that people would buy Rose as her own.
“I thought it was a terrible idea, but your daddy was too grief-stricken to care. He meant the best for you, Rose, but I could see the hate in your momma’s eyes the day she laid eyes on you. As you grew older, she hated you even more. You were the spitting image of Dora, a constant reminder that your daddy wouldn’t be with her if Dora hadn’t died. Your daddy tried to defend you in the beginning, what little I saw. While he thought he deserved your momma’s wrath, he never thought you did. You remember the summer you spent with us when you were seven?”
I nodded through my tears.
“I tried to convince your parents to let you stay with us, your Uncle Earl and I. We never had children and my heart couldn't take how she treated you. But in the end she said no, what would people say? And your daddy had long since stopped trying to stand up to her, even for your sake. Dora would have been so upset to know what became of you. She loved you, child. I know your Momma was an awful mother, but for two months you had a mother who loved you enough to make up for all the hate your Momma had for you.”
We sat in silence, taking it all in. Finally, I held out the ring on my hand. “I found it in the box.”
Aunt Bessie nodded. “That’s the ring your daddy gave Dora.”
I clutched it to my chest. My mother, my real mother who loved me, had worn this ring. I hoped holding it next to my heart would make me feel closer to her, but I only felt empty and cold. And cheated.
“Do you think…” Violet stopped to clear her throat before starting again. “Do you think Momma killed Dora?”
Aunt Bessie was quiet. “I don’t know, Violet. I would sure hope not. How could someone do such a thing, no matter how upset they are? And even if they did, how could they live with it? If she did, she made her own life hell, as well as the hell she made for you girls.”
“What about Daddy?” I asked.
“I loved your father to death, he was my brother, but he made his own hell. He could have done more to protect you girls, should have, but he wallowed in his own misery. He paid for that, too.”
Violet spoke up. “There were other things in the box. A savings passbook, Dora’s will, and a photo of Dora and Rose.”
Aunt Bessie opened the lid and pulled out the passbook first. Violet must have put the papers back in order. I suddenly felt bad abandoning her with the mess of it all. I had luxury of running away and leaving her to pick up the pieces. I’d done it our entire lives. Violet had always been the stronger of the two of us. I got used to leaning on her and letting her take charge. It seemed unfair that I became upset with her now for telling me what and how to do things when I had encouraged it all along.
Life was a complicated mess.
“The will says the money in the savings account is Rose’s.”
Aunt Bessie nodded, pulled the will out, and read it. “The savings account, her parents’ farm, there’s some oil stock as well.” She looked up and nodded. “I knew about all of it. Your daddy told me after Dora died. Her family was long gone; your daddy was all she had, but she never put his name on any of it, just Rose’s. Earl and I watched after it all, waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” Anger rose inside me. I lived in hell for twenty-four years. For what?
“Until it was the right time.”
I stood up, my blood boiling with rage. “The right time? And who got to decide that? If Momma hadn’t been killed, neither one of us would know right now.” I shouted, “Our entire lives are a lie! We had a right to know!”
“You’re right, Rose. You had every right, but it wasn’t my place to tell you.”
“Wasn’t your place to tell? So you just watched her abuse me, us, and no one says a word because it’s not the right time? Did you know she used to lock me in a closet? I would pound on the door, screaming and begging her to let me out. Violet would stand outside the door, crying and pleading to Momma to let me out, but Momma would hit her and tell her it had nothin’ to do with her. We lived through hell. If that wasn’t the right time, when was?” My tirade left me shaky and lightheaded, but my outrage remained, simmering in resentment.