THIS Is Me... (30 page)

CHAPTER 33

SEPTEMBER 2

  During the 2 months I've been living here alone, a few Reporters found me and my apartment and even made their way
somehow
past the Doorman to approach me.  So when I hear the knock on my front door, I'm still a little frightened because I know Mack isn't expected here for another hour or so. 
  The last time someone found me, I was absolutely stunned when I opened the door expecting to see Mack.  So like a moron, I stood dead still as the Reporter took photos of my face quickly before I could slam the door in HIS face just as quickly.
  I remember being shocked by the encounter because I didn't know anyone kept tabs on me anymore.  And though my mother's trial was still happening, and Marcus had just committed suicide I probably should have known I would become an interest for the papers again, I just didn’t.  Mack was pretty pissed at himself as well for not thinking about it beforehand.
  Afterward, when I calmed down and called Mack to help me, he went a little postal, and told me even Z went completely mental at the Police station.  The Doorman was fired from the building, and security was put in place for me again for whenever I leave my apartment for Physio, or any other Doctors’ appointments.  The whole thing is super dramatic, but Mack and Z both insisted.
  And after that last confrontation, there I was on the front page of the Chicago Tribune again, and from what I understood the 4th page of the New York Times as well, because of the New York connection between me and Z, and Z's piece of shit father. 
  The Reporter told of my pregnancy, mentioned I was
apparently
single, and implied I was having difficulties adapting to my post-nuthouse life due to post-traumatic stress disorder.  He told of my hideous burns from the crash, mentioned my nervous breakdown, and highlighted my suicide attempt because of all I had had to endure at the hands of my mother, Dr. Simmons and the men.  He basically painted a picture of the most whacked-out, knocked-up, pathetic PTSD victim ever.  What an asshole!
  I remember just staring at the newspaper crying my eyes out because I was pretty gross in the picture, too.  Seeing myself WITHOUT make-up was damaging to my mental health, for sure.  I looked like the gross little victim the paper made me out to be.  I became the young girl whose horrible life was a series of unfortunate events of trauma, looking like a traumatized unfortunate victim of the horrible events.
  Later that night, Z and I spoke on the phone for the first time since the hospital.  It was such a strange, sad conversation I had to have with Z- so strange I found myself just desperate to be with him again.  God, in that moment the weight of my sadness and the want for him was so heavy I felt suffocated by it.  And missing him, I was almost desperate enough to beg him to come get me...
Almost.
  When Z called me, he begged me for my sake and for his baby's sake to accept the security again for his peace of mind.  And when he worded his request with such desperation and with such sadness in his voice, I absolutely couldn't argue further or refuse him.  It was done. 
  And so Security is in place when I call them to go out, which honestly isn't that often anyway.  But it’s there waiting, for Z's peace of mind.
 

  Looking through the peephole, I see Mack first, and whooosh... my grandfather.  Oh shit!  This is going to be bad,
obviously
.   I mean, come on!  I've spoken to him half a dozen horribly uncomfortable times in the last year, and though he lives in D.C. which really isn't that far from Chicago, I haven't seen him even once since I’ve been conscious.  But he's suddenly here? 
 

  Opening the door, Mack walks in with his reassuring smile, my grandfather walks in slowly with a nod, and then suddenly Z follows behind.  
  Mother
FUCKER!
  I didn't see Z through the peephole.  Holy shit!  This just went from totally sucking to CATASTROPHIC in seconds.  Why are they HERE?

  “Um...”
  “Breathe, Suzanne.  Come sit in the living room and talk with me for a minute.  Z, could you and Edward wait in the kitchen for a minute?” 

  Looking behind Mack to my grandfather and Z, I'm beyond nervous.  Nothing!  Absolutely
nothing
good is going to come from this.
  “What's wrong?  Is this about Marcus?” I ask confused.
  “No.  Z and your grandfather are both scheduled to testify, and-”
  “Why Z again?” Seriously?
  “Because of what you told us in his apartment.  The names and people involved.”
  “But you’ve already told them everything.”
  “I did.  But now the Prosecutors are trying to set up Z as a second witness to all you said.  They don't want my testimony being disputed by the Defense as mere hearsay.  Plus, Z found the schoolbook and he needs to explain how he did that before he went to the Police, so the Defense can't claim any entrapment.”
  “But what about us?” I ask pointing to my stomach.  “Everyone will know about me and Z, and they'll know we're not together, and they'll know I'm a terrible person, and they'll know I'm alone and that I made Z lonely, and that I'm pregnant and a terrible person... and Z's so sad and-” I cry.
  “Suzanne, I’m okay.  I can handle it,” I jump when Z suddenly speaks.
  “Why are you here?” I beg through my upset.
  “Your grandfather has to talk to you before we go to the Courthouse.  I was with him when he told me a few things you need to know, so I asked Mack to meet us here.”
  “But why are YOU here?”  Shit, he just flinched a little.  “I'm not trying to be mean, but I'm just so confused.” 
  Z and I don't talk, and we never see each other.  We have spoken once on the phone, ever.  We don't see each other which is good, because honestly, seeing him right now makes me want to beg him to love me anyway, even with this kid I don't want growing inside me.
  “I just came as a friend, in case you needed some extra support.  That's all, Suzanne.  But I can leave if you'd be more comfortable.”  Um...
  “Thank you for your support.  But you should... No, you can stay I guess.  It's just hard seeing you and
him
actually,” I motion to the kitchen.
  Nodding, Z walks back into the kitchen.  Returning seconds later with my grandfather, Z takes a seat far from me on a dining room chair, while my grandfather stands awkwardly a few feet away from me. 
  Huh.  Mack WAS right.  I hate having a man standing above me like that.
  “Hi...” Grandfather?  Edward?  Mr. Montgomery?  Ugh...
  “Hello Suzanne, you look lovely.”  O-Kay.  Does he have selective seeing or something?  “How are you feeling?  I was awfully surprised to hear months ago that you’re expecting.”
  “I'm good.  And it was an awful surprise to me as well.” Suddenly looking at Z, I feel bad for that one.  Ooops... that one slipped.
  Nodding, “You have a lovely apartment.”  Jesus!  Can we just do this?
  “Thanks.  What's wrong?  What do you have to tell me?”
  “Do you have any refreshments to offer your guests?”  He asks with disapproval in his voice.  Seriously?!  I hate his tone- It’s just like I remember from childhood.
  “Yes, I do.  And Mack and Z can help themselves if they'd like.  And so can you.  Why are you here?”
  “Suzanne, that's not a polite response to-”
  “Oh, cut the shit
grandfather! 
What do you want?  Why. Are. You. Here?”   
  Looking, I see Z cover his grin casually with his hand as Mack suddenly squeezes my hand tighter.  This is good.  Neither is disappointed in me.  I can totally do this.
  “Just say it.  Whatever it is.”
  “Alright,” he says uncomfortably sitting in a chair across from me and Mack.  “I'm being subpoenaed today by the Defense to tell the facts surrounding your mother's rape as a child.”  WHAT?!
  Huh.  Here's that awesome shock-thing again.  Shock is good because it stops me from freaking out
outwardly
, and it makes me stay still while I'm in a nightmare.  Nobody really sees me Losing. My. Shit. when I'm in shock.
  “I'm sorry...?” I whisper on a gasp.
  “When your mother was thirteen, we had some maintenance done on the grounds of our home, and tragically, she was raped by 4 men in the process.  Your grandmother and I weren't there at the time, and though we had staff on the grounds they apparently didn't know what was occurring to Elizabeth.  Regardless, I fired them all anyway after making them sign a contract to never disclose the events we're discussing.”  A contract?  What the hell?  Why does he sound so business-like?
  “How is this relevant to me?”  God, I sound awesome strong right now but I'm totally faking it.
  “After your grandmother and I returned home and found Elizabeth, we tried to help her.  We did try, but things were different then.  One didn't discuss things like this and a scandal of this nature would have followed your mother forever, so I essentially made it go away.”
 
“Really?” 
Feeling Mack's sweaty hand in my own is gross, but it’s fine.  I'm just trying not to barf right now.
  “Yes.  Your mother was badly abused and we took care of her physically with the aid of a close personal friend who was a Physician, but emotionally we may have failed her.”
  “Jesus Christ...
Ya think?!
”
  “Suzanne!”
  “Piss off,
Edward
. Continue.”
  Shaking his head with disapproval again, he continues.  

  “When I learned the graphic details of your abuse...” FLINCH!  “I knew why she did what she did to you.  I knew exactly why she did those things to you in the manner in which she did them, because tragically that's what the men did to her.  But your grandmother and I didn't know what to do back then because there weren't many options at the time.  It’s not like today where there is rape counseling, or therapists readily available...”  Pause.
  “So we acted as we thought best, which was fairly poorly in hindsight.  After bathing and cleaning her wounds, we sent Elizabeth to her bedroom to recover, bringing her food and gifts and anything else she could've ever dreamed of.  We did our best, albeit, our best was not very good at all.  I know we made mistakes, and I know our mistakes may have hurt you, but that was never our intention at the time.  We couldn't have known how terrible she would become to you.”
  With no more words, Edward looks exhausted, but somehow kind of proud of himself for telling me.  It's like he feels he should be applauded for his confession or something.  Seriously?
  “You made mistakes that
may
have hurt me?  Are you kidding me?!  You knew!  You
always
knew!  That's why grandma Tommy was so good to me, and that's why you always tried to step in when I was starving or terribly sick and weak because of her.  You fucking
knew
she was crazy.  You ALWAYS knew she was fucked up, and NOW you're telling me?!  Why are you telling me now?  Oh, I know!  Only because it’s going to get out today and you didn't want to look bad!  But you never would have told me today if you weren't going to get caught, RIGHT?!”
  “Suzanne-” Mack tugs at me.
  “Get the hell out of my apartment.  And stay the hell away from me!  I hope you DIE, like
I
wanted to every fucking day of my life!”
  Grabbing at me, Mack holds tight.  Seeing Z stand, he begins walking toward me until I shake my head no.
  “Do you have any idea how hard my life was?  Did you know then?  Do you know NOW?!  You may know the details, but you don't know how awful my life
really
was.  My mother had one experience- ONE rape.  I had ENDLESS! And she was fucked up for it happening to her
ONCE?! 
Well FUCK HER!  And FUCK YOU!  She did this to me over and over again,
grandfather,
” I sneer.  “You saw the damage to her body ONCE.  I had it almost weekly for 2 years!  TWO FUCKING YEARS OF RAPE AFTER RAPE AFTER RAPE!!”
  Lunging for him, I just make contact when Z and Mack get to me.  Slapping and kicking and biting my grandfather, and ooops maybe even Mack, I don't care!  My grandfather deserves everything I can do to him!  All of it!  Everything I can possibly do to him he deserves!
  “YOU HELPED DO THIS TO ME!” I scream in his face.
  “Elizabeth and Simmons did this to you and your father played along,” he yells while protecting his face.  “I NEVER hurt you!  EVER!  And Tommy adored you!  You were the daughter she lost after Elizabeth was hurt.”
WHAT?! 
 
  Wow.  Everything suddenly became completely still and silent.
  Now I remember. 
  My grandma bathing me and brushing my hair dry, and my mother bathing me and brushing my hair dry.  It's the same.  They're both the same but totally different.  Grandma Tommy loved me because I
was
the substitute, and my mother hated me so I
could be
the substitute.  Wow.  That's fucked up.  Giggle.
  Staring at my grandfather, he actually has a bloody scratch down his cheek.  Good!  The FUCKER!  Z is beside me making little soothing sounds while his hand eases down my head and neck again and again.  And Mack is holding me tightly from behind with his body flush against me and his arms wrapped tightly around me.  One hand rests on my stomach, Oh! And actually his other hand is across my breast, though I'm absolutely sure copping a feel is NOT his intention right now.
  “Mack, you're holding my boob,” I giggle in the madness, as all three before me flinch.
  Abruptly letting go and standing deathly still behind me, Mack breathes into my hair an 'I'm sorry' and I KNOW he is.  Mack would NEVER touch me like they did.
  Glaring at my grandfather’s stunned face I yell, “Get out of my apartment and never contact me again.  I hate you almost as much as I hate her.  For all the times I wanted to die, and for all the life I've never had, I hope you have a terrible life and a painful death. 

  “You know what?  I always thought I just had the worst luck, ever.  I thought I lived in a ShitStorm because I did something bad- because
I
was bad.  But, it’s not me!  It was never me!  I was born into this shit! You’re all so screwed up that you screwed me up, too.  So take back your inheritance and go fuck yourself.  I'm done with you people.  I’m done with all you Hampton-Montgomery-Beaumonts, forever!  Go. Fuck. Yourself.”