Jezebel's Secret (The Taylors of Birchwood Haven) by Morgan A.S

Author:Morgan, A.S.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A.S. Morgan
Published: 2022-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The next two days were a rollercoaster of activity and emotion.

An entire day was spent at the house, going through dad’s possessions, packing things away as well as pulling out mementos and pictures. We were creating a display of Dad’s life for the service. It disturbed a lot of sleeping memories. It was Santana who explained the significance behind much of Dad’s stuff.

I’d had no idea he’d joined the military directly after high school and it had been there that he’d developed his skill in mechanics.

The story of how he’d met Mom had been a common enough tale in my early years. He’d been on a road trip and when he’d seen her and it had been love at first sight. What I didn’t know was that he’d been following the Grateful Dead. Dad was a Deadhead. And so was Mom, evidently.

An image was stirred of the two of them singing and dancing in the kitchen when Mal was only a tiny baby. When I shared the vague memory, Malcolm actually smiled.

“I love the Grateful Dead,” he said more to himself than the two of us.

Sitting on the living room floor, boxes all around, papers and photos in stacks, we passed around pictures of Dad and Mom when they were first together, with the three of us as small children. The pictures of me holding each of my siblings as infants sparked a depth of warmth within me. I loved those years, always cradling and singing to them, tucking their blankets around them, holding bottles to their puckered mouths.

The progression of Mom’s dissatisfaction with life was documented throughout the years. It was strange to see her expressions shift and her body detach. The photos all but stopped when Mom left.

“Dad said she’d always been a free spirit. When he first saw her, she was dancing, her arms swaying, her eyes closed. She was as intangible as a fairy princess. She’d tried to settle into life here, to settle into the role of wife and mother, but she’d never been truly happy. He believed he’d failed her.” Santana’s voice was low, full of empathy and understanding.

“You’ve forgiven him for everything then?” There was a roughness in Malcolm’s tone, and his eyes remained downcast. He struggled with our parent’s choices as much as I did.

“I have,” she said plainly. “But I had a very different experience than you did. I was so small when everything changed, I have almost no memory of how things were when Mom was around. And I always had the two of you.”

“But why did you stay?” I’d always wondered. “You were independent, capable of taking care of yourself since the age of twelve when I’d moved away. Why did you stay in the house?”

Santana sighed and I could see powerful emotions sweep through her. “It’s true, by then I didn’t really need anybody...but Dad needed me. When Hannah was born, a shift had begun in him and I saw his fragility and his regret. I saw his heartbreak.

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