Tainted Love: contemporary womens fiction love story and family saga (Behind Closed Doors Book 1) Read Online Free
Except that day it was deserted, because it was a school day, remember? It was the day after everyone wore black and people cried... a lot.
We built sand castles all day long and had a picnic with Dad's favorite PB&J sandwiches with Mom's magic blue lemonade. Do you remember?
Dad actually hated peanut butter, you know? But he got a kick from hearing you laugh when he stole a bite so PB&Js became his favorite because they were all you'd eat at one point in time. You never saw his face those first few months, all screwed up and green. Mom and I had a stake on who'd wash the dishes those nights if Dad hurled... I always washed the dishes... and he never did, you know, hurl.
We put the tent up on the beach and we built a campfire. I showed you how to make s'mores just like Dad would. Can you remember?
"Never forget these things, Darryl," I said as I stared at the melting marshmallow and chocolate over the flames. "These are the memories that will always keep Mom and Dad with you, wherever you go."
"They've been gone a really long time, Fay," you told me. I guess nine days must have seemed like a lifetime to you back then. "When are they coming home?"
What did I say? How did I tell you that for the second time in your very short life God had taken away your parents? Of course, you didn't know at the time you were adopted. Sitting there in front of the fire, with you tucked in between my arms and legs, I made the decision to take the secret to my grave with me. You didn't need to know.
It was a beautiful, clear night. The stars were bright in the navy sky, and the fire crackled and popped as the waves crashed against the shore. It would have been magic on any other night. "What do you know about God, D?" I whispered, pulling the treat away from the fire.
"He's everywhere." You smiled at me. Your bible classes were teaching you well; giving you knowledge to answer life's difficult questions. "But you can't see him because he lives in me and he lives in you." You even put your little hand on my heart.
"Momma and Poppa are living with God now."
Your cute little face was perplexed for a minute or so and I could almost see the cogs working behind those crystal blue eyes of yours. "So I can't see them anymore?" Gawd, you were so intelligent, Darryl, even at six years old!
"No, sweetie." Your lips trembled, your eyes filled with tears, and watching your heart break before my eyes broke mine so much more. Why did I have to do this? Why our parents? This wasn't fair. "But they live in you, and they live in me, and we take them with us everywhere we go."
It was little consolation to a boy whose world had been spun on its axis. We sat there in front of the fire and you sobbed the entire night. You couldn't see me as I sat behind you, holding you, trying to comfort you, stroking your hair the same way Mom did when you were sick. I didn't want you to see me because I cried the whole night too.
#
There was so much to do. The house, the cars, the practice, their clothes, their knick-knacks and bric-a-brac that made them who they were, and the photographs! Oh Darryl, the photographs. I didn't touch many of them for so many years after we moved in. I couldn't. The entrance hall is...
Well, it's like a mini version of a stately home really, isn't it? Except, in place of stuffy oil paintings of thousand-year-old lords and ladies, it’s Mom and Dad feeding each other wedding cake. It’s Nan and Pap on that huge inflatable banana thingy at the beach. Me, you, Mom, and Dad celebrating our first Christmas as a family. I haven't changed it much, you know, I've just added newer pictures.
I don't think I could have made it through without Cal. I know we had Uncle Robert, and he did help out a lot. But he was Dad's best friend. They grew up together, went to the same college. Robert took care of all the legal stuff when Dad set up the practice. He was my godfather. It was too hard to see him and not remember what happened.
Cal handled
We built sand castles all day long and had a picnic with Dad's favorite PB&J sandwiches with Mom's magic blue lemonade. Do you remember?
Dad actually hated peanut butter, you know? But he got a kick from hearing you laugh when he stole a bite so PB&Js became his favorite because they were all you'd eat at one point in time. You never saw his face those first few months, all screwed up and green. Mom and I had a stake on who'd wash the dishes those nights if Dad hurled... I always washed the dishes... and he never did, you know, hurl.
We put the tent up on the beach and we built a campfire. I showed you how to make s'mores just like Dad would. Can you remember?
"Never forget these things, Darryl," I said as I stared at the melting marshmallow and chocolate over the flames. "These are the memories that will always keep Mom and Dad with you, wherever you go."
"They've been gone a really long time, Fay," you told me. I guess nine days must have seemed like a lifetime to you back then. "When are they coming home?"
What did I say? How did I tell you that for the second time in your very short life God had taken away your parents? Of course, you didn't know at the time you were adopted. Sitting there in front of the fire, with you tucked in between my arms and legs, I made the decision to take the secret to my grave with me. You didn't need to know.
It was a beautiful, clear night. The stars were bright in the navy sky, and the fire crackled and popped as the waves crashed against the shore. It would have been magic on any other night. "What do you know about God, D?" I whispered, pulling the treat away from the fire.
"He's everywhere." You smiled at me. Your bible classes were teaching you well; giving you knowledge to answer life's difficult questions. "But you can't see him because he lives in me and he lives in you." You even put your little hand on my heart.
"Momma and Poppa are living with God now."
Your cute little face was perplexed for a minute or so and I could almost see the cogs working behind those crystal blue eyes of yours. "So I can't see them anymore?" Gawd, you were so intelligent, Darryl, even at six years old!
"No, sweetie." Your lips trembled, your eyes filled with tears, and watching your heart break before my eyes broke mine so much more. Why did I have to do this? Why our parents? This wasn't fair. "But they live in you, and they live in me, and we take them with us everywhere we go."
It was little consolation to a boy whose world had been spun on its axis. We sat there in front of the fire and you sobbed the entire night. You couldn't see me as I sat behind you, holding you, trying to comfort you, stroking your hair the same way Mom did when you were sick. I didn't want you to see me because I cried the whole night too.
#
There was so much to do. The house, the cars, the practice, their clothes, their knick-knacks and bric-a-brac that made them who they were, and the photographs! Oh Darryl, the photographs. I didn't touch many of them for so many years after we moved in. I couldn't. The entrance hall is...
Well, it's like a mini version of a stately home really, isn't it? Except, in place of stuffy oil paintings of thousand-year-old lords and ladies, it’s Mom and Dad feeding each other wedding cake. It’s Nan and Pap on that huge inflatable banana thingy at the beach. Me, you, Mom, and Dad celebrating our first Christmas as a family. I haven't changed it much, you know, I've just added newer pictures.
I don't think I could have made it through without Cal. I know we had Uncle Robert, and he did help out a lot. But he was Dad's best friend. They grew up together, went to the same college. Robert took care of all the legal stuff when Dad set up the practice. He was my godfather. It was too hard to see him and not remember what happened.
Cal handled
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