Anchored (18 page)

I love you as far as the moon and back! (Do you remember the story we used to read together about this?) Don’t be sad for me, but rejoice! 

Forever and always – Mum xxx ooo

Mia held the letter to her heart and her chest squeezed.

“Mum, I wish you were here. I long to talk to you,” she whispered.

A small smile formed on her lips.

She carefully folded the letter and placed it lovingly between the pages of her Bible.

Chapter 2
6

The teaspoon clanked the side of the cup as Mia stirred the tea. Klara sat in the lounge waiting for her and Mia felt a flutter in her stomach as she tried to work out why Klara seemed annoyed with her. Klara had said something about the house being far too big for her and Terri.

Shrugging, Mia picked up the tea tray and left the kitchen.

“Here you go, Klara. I’ve put a little cold water in it for you.” Mia smiled.

Klara gave a brief nod of thanks. “I’m sorry about before. I’ve been anxious to hear from you.” Her mood changed abruptly and her mouth curved slightly.

“I’m sorry it took me a while to get back to you. The last time we talked I had a hard time coping—what I mean is that my mind was all over the place and I couldn’t think clearly.” Mia reached for her cup. “Terri and I are going around to David’s this evening to meet his brother. That way I won’t be alone and can talk with David if I need to clear my head.”

“Why David? Isn’t Terri your friend too?” Klara frowned her puzzlement.

“I trust him. Terri and I are just getting to know each other.” Mia smiled and continued. “I want to thank you for helping me, Klara. I have lots of questions.”

“Your mother shared a lot with me, as you know.”

Mia nodded and remained silent.

“Margaret told me the first three years of her marriage were the best. Jonathan was attentive and loved coming home to be with the both of you. Her parents, your grandparents, called around often to check on you both. I think they wanted to make sure Jonathan was treating her well.” Klara giggled. “Those were the years Margaret told me she fell in love with your father.”

“I remember asking Margaret when she first noticed things starting to change. She said it was when you were four.”

Mia nibbled her lower lip as she listened. 

“Margaret told me there were times when Jonathan was quite rough with her. She told him she didn’t like it and he must have improved.” Klara stopped talking and her gaze searched Mia’s flushed face. “Mia, I’m aware I’m talking about your father. Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes I do. I haven’t told you, but there are things my father did that I’ve only recently remembered, and I want to know what it was like for my mother.”

Klara licked her lips and placed her coffee cup firmly on the table. “I’m not feeling as sure about this as I was before. Maybe I don’t need to tell you the details of what happened—” Klara sat back in her chair, her eyes watching Mia the whole time.

She moved her chair slightly and the leg scraped the floor breaking the silence.

“People change, Mia. I don’t want you going away from here hating your father because of what I say.”

Mia squared her shoulders and sat forward. “I acknowledge what you’re saying, but please—I need to hear what it was like for Mum.”

Klara remained silent. She shrugged her shoulders and her gaze moved to her hands.

“You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?” Mia could see it in her face.

“I think I have.” Klara nodded.

“Do you think I could ask you some questions and if you feel okay with the questions, then you can answer them? If you can’t, I understand.” Mia released a breath when Klara nodded and gave a half smile.

“You said my father used to be rough with Mum. What do you mean by this?”

“Mia, please. Can you ask me another question?”

Mia thought for a moment. “My father used to be quite rough with me. I can remember from the age of four being terrified of him. If he came home and went straight to the kitchen to talk to Mum I’d feel a sense of relief. This usually meant he wasn’t so angry.”

Klara eyes squinted momentarily and she whispered, “How was he rough with you?”

The gentle question surprised Mia and she found herself responding to it.

“He would grab me by the arm and yank me towards him. He used to hold me in front of him and ask me if I’d been a good girl. Sometimes he’d throw me against a wall if he’d been drinking and there were times when—” Mia stopped and took a minute to remind herself that these were memories and that it wasn’t happening now.

“Times when he would hit me on the face or anywhere his hands could reach. Mum would sometimes see him do this and she never did anything to stop him. Did she ever say anything about this, Klara?”

Mia felt like she was in the middle of a brewing storm and steeled herself against the turbulence growing in her heart.

“Yes she did. It was her greatest regret that she didn’t stop him from hitting you. She told me there were two times when it got really bad and she packed up and tried to leave. Jonathan always convinced her to stay.”

A soft moan escaped Mia.

“Margaret said he got less violent as you got older and that things settled down some. Is this true?”

Taking a steadying breath Mia allowed her hands to rub against the fabric on the chair. “If you mean did he stop hitting or hurting me in front of Mum, then yes he did.” Mia’s eyes welled up. Was her mother ever happy? “I remember them having arguments when I was about ten. She would stand up to him and it seemed like he would listen to her. I can’t understand why she stayed with him.” 

“I often encouraged her to leave him. I used to get so angry if she turned up with a bruised face or told me about something that had happened.” Shaking her head, Klara stood up and moved restlessly around the room.

“Do you know if they—were they—um, can you tell me if they were sexually intimate?” Mia whispered.

“As far as I know they weren’t. Not for a long time.” Klara gave a nervous smile, sat down and faced Mia with speculation in her eyes.

Mia run a nervous hand through her hair and lifted her chin. “Klara, did my mother know my father was—um, having sex with me?”

Klara’s face paled and screwed up. “No!” she shouted.

Mia said in a soft whisper, “You obviously didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“No I didn’t know. Your mother would have told me if she knew. She shared everything with me.” Klara’s eyes filled with tears and she swiped her hand across her face as if angry by the show of emotion.

“I tried to tell her once but she didn’t listen. I also remember her coming into the room when dad was on the bed with me. How could she not have known?”

“Mia, your mother had great difficulty forgiving herself for letting your father hurt you emotionally and physically. We talked about this all the time. Even when she said it had stopped completely, she still beat herself up over it. She would say over and over again that it had been her job to protect you.”

“I loved Mum. I wish I could talk to her about this. I want to get to a place where it doesn’t matter if she knew or not—”

“Mia, she didn’t know! Margaret loved you and would not have stood by and let that happen. Please believe this.”

Mia ignored the pain in her chest and gave a watery smile. “I’ve talked about this in counseling and now understand more about how the mind works. Denial is a coping mechanism and it can totally blank out what is really happening. This happened for me. I just forgot about it.”

“What do you mean you just forgot about it?” Klara’s voice was strained and her hands fidgeted with her cup. 

“At night dad would come into my bedroom. The worst part was the waiting, lying in bed wondering if the door would open and the anticipation and terror. I couldn’t go to sleep until I knew he’d gone to bed or he’d come into my room.” Mia felt like she was looking back on herself as a child and fought to push the images away. “Once he’d done what he wanted and left, I could then relax and go to sleep because it was over. In the morning I’d go down and have breakfast with Mum and Dad like it’d never happened. I just pushed it away and forgot it.”

“You forgot? That seems unbelievable.” Klara shook her head in disbelief.

“I know, but I did. I wonder if Mum did this too? Maybe she did see things but wouldn’t allow herself to contemplate what they could mean.”

Klara eyes misted over and her fists clenched. “This isn’t okay.”

Mia felt a raw need pulling at her. She blinked when she realized she’d been staring at Klara, wishing she was her mother.

With great effort Mia stood and took Klara’s hand. “Klara, I’m going to be okay. I can’t change the past, it happened. As I think about it now, I believe I am who I am because of it. It’s up to me now to become the woman I want to be. There’s no more pretense. The truth will set me free.”

Klara sprung to her feet and dropped Mia’s hand. “I feel so angry right now that I think its best if I leave. I’m sorry, Mia.”

Spinning on her heel she hurried out of the room.

~~~

Mia pulled on the gardening gloves and sank to her knees. She could feel the tightness between her shoulders and sighed.

Yanking aggressively at the weeds, her mind moved in many directions. She recalled telling Klara that she trusted David and she did.

Her eyes misted and she sniffed.

The sun was warm on her back and the heat massaged her shoulders, easing the pain. She bit her lip as she thought of the distress she’d caused Klara.

Swiping at an annoying fly that buzzed around her face, she sat back on her knees and stared at the area she’d been working.

Weeds took over everything if they weren’t removed and controlled. It was a bit like that for her with her thoughts sprawling in many directions, strangling the life out of her—removing her hope.

She moved on to the next section and with steady, repetitious movement she worked the soil until it returned to order. Mia found the exercise therapeutic.

Shaking her head, she flexed her shoulders. Better. She’d tried to push David away, tried to armor herself against his friendship—but he wouldn’t listen.

She smiled slightly as she visualized his laughing blue eyes and the way they snapped towards her if he disagreed with what she was saying. He was good for her.

Idly running her fingers through the loosed soil Mia contemplated her father. Did she want to confront him? What would it achieve other than more heartache? But what would it be like to suppress the truth now? Could she survive the anger that rose within her when she thought of all he’d done?

Her chin came up and she was tormented by the memory of his words.

Surely I could have stopped him. The thought chilled Mia and she shivered.

She slammed her hands down into the dirt and furiously pounded until the soil resembling flattened clay.

Wearily she lay back on the grass and flung her gardening gloves off. Closing her eyes, Mia felt frustrated with herself for regurgitating thoughts she’d discussed in counseling.

It wasn’t her fault. But would the memories haunt her forever? Would the unleashed anger within her destroy her sanity? Destroy any chance of a future with—David?

Sitting up Mia made a decision. She would confront her father.

Chapter 27

“That smells great! What is it?” Patrick sniffed appreciatively.

“Mango chicken and rice.”

“It looks ready to me. I’m starved, let’s eat!” Patrick punched David’s arm to hurry him up.

“You think I’d cook mango chicken just for you and me?” Shaking his head, David gave his brother a condescending look. “Delusional.”

Patrick wiggled his eyebrows. “Mia must be coming for dinner. Good, at last I’ll get to meet her.” 

The doorbell rang and Patrick held up his hand to stop David from moving. “I’ll get it, you stay manning your post at the kitchen sink.”

Opening the door Patrick saw two young women smiling at him. He stared at them and was momentarily lost for words. Which one was Mia? Both were gorgeous and he grinned back at them.

“Ladies, come in.” Bowing slightly, Patrick swept his arm around in a gallant gesture.

Bruno chose this moment to race in, barking loudly.

One woman dropped to her knees, her deep green eyes sparkling with merriment as she threw her arms around Bruno and hugged tight.

“Hi, Bruno, good to see you boy.” Looking up she smiled mischievously at Patrick. “Sorry, but Bruno is my first love.” Standing, she held her hand out. “You must be Patrick, I’m Mia and this is my friend Terri.”

Patrick took her hand and raised it to his lips. “I’m honored.”

Turning he looked at Terri and grinned wickedly. “Had I known Davo had such beautiful friends I would have offered to help with dinner.”

He took Terri’s hand and swept his lips briefly over the surface.

Mia laughed and looked at Terri.

Terri merely smiled, and pulled her hand free. “Nice to meet you Patrick, now where’s David? I can smell something tantalizing.”

Patrick watched her move away and had the feeling he’d been dismissed. Shrugging, he took Mia’s arm.

“Finally I get to meet you. David’s been telling me stories about you.”

Mia’s face drained of color and a haunted look flickered in her eyes.

Patrick frowned and hastily added, “Especially how Bruno—introduced you.”

Hearing his name, Bruno moved in on Patrick and muzzled his large snout into his hand.

Laughing, Patrick pushed him away.

Patrick watched as Mia recovered and noted the way her chin lifted and she squared her shoulders.

He could understand why David was moonstruck with this woman. She had guts. Yep, she’d be good for his brother.

Now, how to help them step up the pace a bit.

~~~

As Mia watched the two brothers interact she grew silent and still. She ached for the brother she never knew. If Caleb had lived, things may have been different.

A fresh burst of laughter drew Mia’s mind back into the conversation. Her eyes softened as she saw David look her way.