Dirty Little Secrets (2 page)

From the backseat I waved good-bye to Daddy and watched him as he chased after the car, still sobbing and begging for Mother
to come back. That night we stayed at a hotel, and I cried myself to sleep. I couldn’t believe that Daddy was gone and I would
never see him again.

The next morning I heard Mother on the phone talking sweet to somebody. Before she hung up, she said, “I love you, too.” For
a brief hopeful moment I imagined that she was going to give Daddy another chance, but that illusion was quickly shattered.
Mother turned to us, her face glowing and her eyes sparkling, and said, “Ella and Tyler, today you are going to meet your
new daddy.”

“But I already have a daddy, Mommy,” I said, trying to hold back the tears swelling up in my eyes.

“No, baby, he isn’t your daddy anymore. Your father tried to kill me last night. He is dead to us now.”

“He didn’t mean to hurt you, Mommy. He just wanted you to stay home with him like you used to.”

Mother began stroking my hair. Then she picked me up and
sat me on her lap. “Tyler, I need for you to be a big girl for Mommy. I know you love your father, but your new daddy is going
to take good care of us. Remember I told you that one day we would live in a big house with fancy cars and beautiful clothes?”
I nodded. “Well, honey, all that is about to come true. Mommy has found her Prince Charming, and he has promised her the moon
and the stars. All I ask is that you and Ella be the little dolls I raised you to be and treat your new daddy with the utmost
respect. This is a new beginning for us, and we want the transition to be smooth. In order to make that possible, we must
make your new daddy feel comfortable and secure with his position in your life. So after careful thought, Mommy thinks it
would be best if you girls call the new man in our lives ‘Daddy.’ That would make me awfully happy. Will you do that for Mommy?”
Ella and I looked at each other, and we reluctantly agreed to do as Mother asked. What choice did we have? She always got
her way.

Mother produced a bag from some fancy department store and laid out two pink lace dresses with matching socks and shoes for
Ella and me. She combed our hair into long ponytails and braided them going down our backs. With a couple of well-placed pink
barrettes, we looked like the most perfect little girls.

After Mother got us dressed, she made us swear we would sit still and not get so much as a wrinkle in our dresses. I had never
seen Mother so giddy and nervous at the same time. Forty-five minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom looking like
the winner of a beauty pageant. Mother was so beautiful, so pretty, and such a lady. She was always so pretty in pink. I don’t
mean that mother wore pink all the time, but she always exuded pink. She was soft, classy, and ladylike, but also strong and
determined.

When I heard a knock at the door, my heart began pounding. I couldn’t believe I was about to meet my new daddy. Ella and
I held hands tightly as Mother opened the door and a man grabbed her around her small waist and gave her an openmouthed kiss.
I never saw Mother kiss my daddy like that. She would only let him kiss her on the cheek or give her a peck on the mouth.
But she was allowing this man to kiss her like he was Billy Dee Williams or something. When the man finally released her from
his embrace, mother had a schoolgirl grin on her face. With great joy she said, “Michael, these are your daughters, Ella and
Tyler.” She then turned back to us and said, “Come on, my little angels. Give your daddy a hug.”

Ella and I walked toward the man and looked up at him. He was tall with a smooth milk-chocolate complexion. His short black
hair had waves like the ocean. He smiled at us with perfect white teeth and knelt down to give us a hug. I was drawn to the
strong but pleasant smell of his cologne. I held him a little tighter because his smell was hypnotizing me. I could feel the
muscles in his arms moving beneath his expensive suit.

He looked at us and asked in a deep, reassuring voice, “What can I get for my little princesses? Would you like to go to the
toy store and get some new dolls?”

“That would be perfect,” Mother answered for us. My new daddy picked up our luggage, and we headed out the door. He was driving
a big luxury car that had a leather interior, and it smelled like he just got it off the car lot. He put everything in the
trunk, and Mother told us to get in the back. I wondered what she was going to do with her car, which was sitting in the hotel
parking lot, but thought it better not to ask. We went straight from the hotel to FAO Schwarz, just as our new daddy had promised.
When we walked in the store, all the saleswomen ran to assist him. Daddy oozed charm and sophistication.

The teenaged-looking saleswoman approached him and flirted
openly. “Good afternoon, sir. What can I help you with today?” she purred.

“I’m looking for the most beautiful dolls you have for my two little princesses.”

“Isn’t that nice? Your girls sure are pretty,” she said, briefly glancing at us and then back to Daddy. Ella nudged my arm
to let me know she was suspicious of the overly nice saleswoman.

“Yes, they are. They take after their gorgeous mother. Maria, come over here so this nice woman can see where my little princesses
get their looks from.”

Mother gladly strutted over to Daddy, and he put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. I could tell the saleswoman
was not pleased with the way Daddy was fawning over Mother. The saleswoman gave a gracious but fake smile as she acknowledged
Mother and reluctantly led us to a selection of beautiful dolls. Mother had a wide grin spread across her face. It didn’t
bother her in the least that the young woman was blatantly flirting with her man. She seemed almost flattered that the saleswoman
wanted Daddy, but he was with her.

After shopping all day and eating at a fancy restaurant, we finally arrived at our new home in Cates Ridge. It was the biggest
house I had ever seen. Mother was grinning from ear to ear as we walked up the driveway. Two luxury cars were parked outside.
One was a small red sports car with a big bow on top. Daddy walked up to Mother and handed her a pair of car keys. “This is
my welcome-home present to you,” he said, and then he playfully patted her butt.

“Oh, Michael, I can’t believe you did this.”

“Maria, you are my queen. I’m going to give you the world.” Mother beamed with joy. She’d finally found her Prince Charming,
and he had swept her off her feet. As she sat in the driver’s
seat of her new car, I heard someone say, “Hey, Dad, what’s going on out here?”

“Evan, remember I told you that today Maria and her daughters would be moving in? Say hello to my little princesses, Ella
and Tyler, your new sisters.”

“That’s right,” Evan said, as if just remembering. “Hi, Maria, it’s nice to see you again.” He waved at Mother, then turned
to us and spoke in a soft eerie voice. “Hello, I’m Evan, your new big brother.” He reached out to shake hands, and I immediately
felt uncomfortable at his touch.

We all went into the house, and Mother took Ella and me to our new room. “Isn’t our house beautiful?” Mother gushed, as though
she could no longer contain her excitement. “You girls are welcome to have your own rooms, but I thought for now you would
like to share.” She was right; I needed to feel safe in my new surroundings, and although Ella was only five years older than
I was, she seemed like a second mother. I needed to be near her in our new home. Plus the room was humongous. It was decorated
in all-pink Hello Kitty, with two canopy beds, one on each side of the room. Mother even had posters of my favorite actresses
on the wall, Brat Pack members, Demi Moore, Molly Ringwald, and supersexy Vanity. I loved her in
The Last Dragon.
We had our own big color television and loads of dolls and toys. It was as if this bedroom had been waiting for us all our
lives.

After only a few months of living in our new home, Ella, Evan, and I were whisked off to Las Vegas for a quickie wedding between
Mother and our new dad. That’s when it truly hit me that my parents were divorced and there was no chance for
reconciliation. Accepting that made it a lot easier to adjust to my new life.

Daddy showered us with presents and love, and Mother never seemed happier. The only thing I didn’t like was my stepbrother,
Evan, who was sixteen. He seemed sinister. Sometimes I would catch him staring at me, as if he were looking through me, not
at me. And his eyes had a coldness to them. Evan gave off the negative energy of a dangerous young man. Even his relationship
with Daddy seemed strained.

After we had been living in our new house about a year, I walked in the kitchen one afternoon and unexpectedly interrupted
an argument. Daddy had his hand raised as if he was about to hit Evan. I had never seen Daddy so upset. When Daddy saw me,
he quickly calmed down, but Evan gave me the creepiest grin as he turned and walked away. It was as if he purposely tried
to upset Daddy to see how far he could push him. We were all relieved that Evan was leaving in a couple of days to stay with
his mother for the summer. I always felt uneasy in his presence and couldn’t wait to have him out of the house.

That night I woke up to use the bathroom. Mother had told me not to drink any more Kool-Aid before bed, but of course I didn’t
listen. When I walked out of the bathroom, Evan was standing in the hallway eating an oatmeal cookie Mother had baked earlier
that day. He looked me over with his dark eyes and held out the cookie, offering me a piece. I shook my head and walked past
him. I was completely taken off guard when he grabbed my arm and pulled me into his room. He had one hand across my mouth
and used the other to kick the door. I couldn’t comprehend what was going on, but I knew I was in trouble. Evan quietly whispered
in my ear, “Tyler, I don’t want to hurt
you. When I take my hands from over your mouth, please don’t scream or you’ll be sorry. Do you understand?”

I nodded, but as soon as he released his hand I let out a short scream. He slapped me across the face and put his hand back
over my mouth.

“I told you not to scream, you little bratty bitch!” He was breathing hard and my heart was racing. Evan lifted me up, one
hand still across my mouth, and carried me over to his bed. My legs were kicking, but at six years old I was no match for
this sixteen-year-old boy. After dropping me on his bed, he used his body to hold me still, one hand still over my mouth;
with the other he began shoving down his blue boxer shorts. I finally realized what Evan planned to do to me. He was like
an actor in the movies on television; Mother always warned me to stay away from men like that. I felt like I was going to
throw up. Evan finally got his shorts down far enough, and I saw the hardness of his penis. I began to kick furiously. He
yanked my cotton nightgown out of his way and reached for my floral panties. As he pressed my head down hard on the pillow,
part of me wanted to give up the fight and give in to the inevitable, but I didn’t want to be a victim. I didn’t want to be
like the little girls I heard about in school and church who had been raped or molested. But at the same time my mind and
body were frozen, and I couldn’t react. Fear held me and I felt sick and alone.

There was no sound in the room, except Evan’s panting, the rustle of his frantic movements, and my sharp, frightened breathing.
In the moonlight coming through the window I could see the depraved look in his eyes. A surge of energy came over me, and
all of a sudden I started fighting as if my life depended on it. He was too strong and athletic, but feeling his cold hands
invading my body made me fight harder. He got frustrated with
my struggling and punched me in my jaw. My head rocked to the side from the impact, and from the corner of my eye I could
see the door open slightly and a shadow run away. I wanted to scream for whoever it was to come back. Evan finally ripped
off my panties and was about to violate me when the bedroom door burst open. I sobbed when I saw Mother, Daddy, and Ella standing
in the doorway. Daddy threw on the light switch and stared in shock at Evan standing over me, one hand still on my mouth and
his penis hanging out for all to see. Evan jumped up and stumbled backward, trying to stuff himself back into his pants.

A look of rage like I had never seen before filled Daddy’s eyes. He looked like a demon. Suddenly he lunged at Evan, punching
him with such force that Evan fell to the floor. He began stomping on him and yelling, “You sick sonofabitch! This is what
you like to do? Fuck little girls?”

Mother ran forward. “Michael, calm down! You’re going to kill him!”

“Any man who messes with a little girl deserves to die! And if it’s a son of mine, I’m going to kill him myself because he’s
already dead to me.” He continued to stomp Evan until he saw blood rolling down the side of his mouth and Evan could no longer
beg for mercy.

Mother and Ella were now holding me close. Daddy had stopped kicking Evan and stood over him, fists clenched, breathing like
a bull. “Boy, you are dead to me. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a son. You were never born. You can stay here tonight,
but first thing in the morning I’m going to put you on the plane for your mother’s and I don’t ever want to see your face
again.” As his father wandered away, Evan still lay on the floor, curled up in a fetal position.

When I woke in the morning, Evan was gone. Later that day
some movers came and cleaned out his entire room. Any picture or item that had to do with Evan was removed. Daddy had erased
his memory as though he never existed. No one was to ever speak Evan’s name, and Daddy tried even harder to spoil me, hoping
I would forget the incident ever happened. But no matter how many gifts or trips to amusement parks I had, that dreadful night
with Evan remained fixed in my mind.

During the summer of 1994 I turned fourteen and began to transform from a caterpillar into a butterfly. I was now a curvaceous
teenager with full breasts, a small waist, and a round butt. Lots of boys wanted to date me and I wanted to date, too, but
not any of the clowns in my school. The boys gossiped more than the girls. They would brag about who was going all the way
or who was just giving professionals. Their conversations always turned vulgar, and I was determined not to be a topic for
any of them.