Keep it Secret (20 page)

“Ava, wake up. We have an
appointment in an hour.” I was flabbergasted. Did she really just
say what I think she said?

“Rose, seriously? I agreed
to see a therapist but right now? I’m exhausted, can’t we
reschedule for another day? Or week?” A part of me missed the
nonintrusive parent, a little part.

“Come on, Ava, get up and
get dressed. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

Vanessa

Time stood still as I heard
Ava cry her heart out. Why did I not know about any of this? I
remembered my parents leaving the week
Zio
Tomas died Declan and I was not
allowed to come. Mother said it was better that the children not
get involved; it was a matter for adults only. I cried and begged
mother to let me call Ava, but she refused the only time I got to
see her was at the funeral and even then. Mother tried her hardest
to keep us apart. In retrospect, it all started to make sense she
didn’t want Ava to tell me what they had done. My head jerked
towards the door, as Ava suddenly stormed out the room. All I
wanted to do was comfort her and tell my parents to go to hell, but
like the fighter that she was she wouldn't let me be there for her.
I watched her barrel out the front door, my anger escalating. My
whole life everyone treated me like a porcelain doll, like I was to
weak to handle anything bad. Everything was kept from me, mother
sheltered me any way she could and had an unnatural control over my
life. Daddy never had the guts to stand up to her it didn't matter
if I was miserable, if I never had a social life, God forbid I
chose my own clothes. No, Daddy would never go against mother, Hell
hath no fury like Cynthia Saint John.

“Vanessa!” Mother yelled.
“Girl, did you hear what I just said? Where is your head?” Mother’s
Oklahoma drawl would creep in any time, she was truly
upset.

“Huh?”

“I said, pack your things
and your uniform we’re staying at the Four Seasons
tonight.”

“Why?” I asked with a bite.
Immediately cringing inwardly knowing I was probably going to get a
slap across my face.

“Excuse me?” She startled,
straightening out her back even straighter, if that was even
possible.

“Uh—yes, mother.” I
stuttered my boldness quickly dissipated with Mother’s
glare.

I quickly went to my room
and packed what I needed for tonight and tomorrow morning. Down
stairs Mother and Daddy were already waiting for me. We drove
silently to the Four Season, Daddy watched me as we walked into the
suite his sad eyes asking for forgiveness. How could I possibly
have come from these people? How selfish and cold hearted could
they have been to leave Ava alone that entire time to fend for
herself? My God, she was thirteen years old! My heart broke as I
looked back to when I was thirteen. That was the time when a girl’s
body started to change, when she experienced her first period,
hormones, boys. All that and she did it without a mom.

“How could you?” I
whispered. Still standing next to the closed door holding my
bag.

“What’s that, dear?” Mother
asked, not even turning to face me as she unpacked her Louis
Vuitton travel bag. Daddy’s face turned pale, he heard what I
said.

“How could you?” I yelled.
“Did you hear me then, mother?” I tightened the grip on my bag.
“How could you both do that to her? She had just lost her father
and her mother checked out mentally. I’ll ask again, mother. How.
Could. You?”

My mother and father looked
at each other in disbelief this was probably the first time in my
seventeen years of living that I had never raised my voice at them,
let alone yell. But damn if it didn’t feel good. “Right now, all I
see in front of me are two people that I don't
recognize.”

“Princess, not a day goes by
that we regret how we handled things after his death.” Dad’s
response was almost a whisper.

“Vanessa, you wouldn't
understand you weren’t in our position. That’s besides the point,
you are a child we do not need to explain anything to you.” Mother
responded.

“Cynthia.” Dad said to her
in an exasperated plea.

“I’ve had enough of you
controlling my life, mother, enough! In seven months, I’ll be
eighteen you will no longer have this control over me. Threaten to
cut me off if you must I don't care anymore. I want to live like
any normal, seventeen year old girl—why, why won’t you let me?” The
anger I felt towards my parents from the way they treated Ava
quickly turned into my personal indignation over my own
life.

“You want to be a normal
seventeen year old girl? You want to be like Ava? Is that it,
Vanessa, jump from bed to bed, drink yourself silly?”

“What? No—this has nothing
to do with boys they are the furthest thing from my mind. When have
I ever given you a reason to doubt me?”

“Bad company corrupts good
manners, dear. It’s just a matter of time before your opinion about
boys starts to change with Ava around.” She snarled.

“You think Ava is bad
company? She’s your niece, how could you think of her that way?
Even if she was you, two made her that way!” I glared back and
forth between my parents. Mother marched towards me smacking me
across the face. My skin stung as tears instantly filled my eyes. I
should have been expecting that.

“Cynthia!” Dad yelled,
grabbing Mothers arm jerking her back. “You touch her again and
I’ll leave so help me God!” Mother gasped, standing still for a
moment before moving around me. “I’ll be at the bar.” Was all she
said before storming out the room, no apologies or
explanation.

“Are you alright, Princess?”
Dad moved cautiously to examine my face I moved away from his
touch. I was still very angry with him. I went inside the guest
room closing the door behind me falling on the plush bed I called
the only person I knew would understand.

“Hey, sis, what’s up?”
Declan answered. I sniffled trying to hold back more
tears.

“Van, what’s wrong?” He said
with concern.

“She smacked me, D.” I
whispered, my voice hoarse from yelling.

“What happened?”

“We overheard Ava and Aunt
Rose having an argument. I confronted mother and Daddy about it.
She made me so angry Declan. I…I couldn’t…I can’t understand why
they left her?” I didn’t know if Declan knew, odds were he probably
did because I was always the one left out of the loop not
him.

“It’s about time, you found
out. I’ve been trying to persuade Ava to tell you, but she didn't
feel the need to taint the illusion you have of our parents.” All
this time he knew and he kept her secret. Declan would never keep
any of mine, regardless of how small. I learned at a young age
never to trust my older brother.

“So you knew? For how
long?”

“It was the night Ava slept
with Jordan or was it the night she slept with Eric? I can’t
remember really, but it was a while back.” Gross. She slept with
BOTH his roommates. What had they turned her into? “You’re missing
the point here Van, mom and dad are assholes. They should have
never left Ava alone she went into detail about that entire year.
Needless to say, it’s pretty amazing she's not in some sort of
psychiatric hospital. She didn't tell you because she didn't want
you to think less of mom and dad.”

“Why do you all have this
need to keep things from me? I’m not made out of glass! I’m not
going to break!”

“So then stop acting like
you will! Your mom and dad's personal porcelain doll they dress you
and move you at their will. Grow a pair, Vanessa, stand up for
yourself, for once.”

Stand up for myself against
my parents? How does one do that? They're my parents! They're not
some bully from school they gave me life. How much of a spoiled and
ungrateful brat would I be if I told them to get lost? Declan never
understood this. It was a mistake calling him.

“I have to go, Declan, Dad’s
calling me.” I lied.

“Whatever, Vanessa.” He
sighed and hung up.

Ava

Arriving at the offices of
Dr. Charles Parker, PSY.D who specialized in troubled youth and
dysfunctional families. I cringed that I now had to be seen by a
specialist to get over my messed up issues. Don’t get me wrong, I
have no judgment on people who choose this, I just come from the
school of locking away your problems and not speaking about them.
Inside the office, a very pretty blonde greeted us.

“Hello, how may I help you?”
She asked in her most, business like voice. I ignored her while
Rose spoke to her. The room was very modern. The receptionist’s
desk was a shiny black color with sharp edges the white leather
lounge chairs sitting across from her desk were also squared.
Across from the chairs behind the receptionist, was a door marked
with a silver sign that read: Dr. Charles Parker, PSY.D.
Apparently, the doctor wanted everyone to know it was his office
because his name was displayed everywhere, on his door, on the
receptionists desk, plaques and awards fill the wall behind me,
highlighting his name; Dr. Charles Parker, PSY.D. I suppose it was
his way of pissing all over the office, claiming what was his.
Sitting on the squared leather chairs, I stared at the door in
front of me, will this man fix all our issues? I very much doubt
it. What can this man say about my mother and myself that I don't
already know? Rose sat next to me my eyes were still locked on the
silver sign: Dr. Charles Parker, PSY.D.

“Ava?” She said softly as
she handed me a clipboard with a questionnaire and a black
pen.

“You need to fill this out
for the doctor.”

I sighed annoyed, taking the
clipboard from her hands. The first sheet was a standardized
Q&A form that you would fill out at any doctor’s office: name,
age, sex (gender), allergies, etc. The second form was a
questionnaire with nine questions. Multiple choices, the choices
consist of:

-Not at all

-Just a little

-Somewhat

-Moderately

-Quite a lot

-Very much

1. I do things
slowly.

Hmm, was this a trick
question?
Somewhat

2. My future seems
hopeless.

Ah, well…yes and no.
Somewhat

3. It is hard for me to
concentrate on reading.

No.
Not at all

4. The pleasure and joy have
gone out of my life.

This was another yes and no. I
feel joy when I’m around Vanessa and Gabriel. Not at the same time,
obviously.
Somewhat

5. I have difficulty making
decisions.

Ha! You mean I have difficulty
making the decision whether or not to stop hanging out with my
cousins almost boyfriend? The boy who I'm falling in love with? No.
Not at all.
Somewhat

6. I have lost interest in
aspects of life that used to be important to me.

I haven't lost interest in
things that make me forget, like sex and alcohol. Those things are
very important to me, but school. That was important to me five
years ago and I've lost the drive for it. Somewhat

7. I feel sad, blue and
unhappy.

No, shit
.
Very much

8. I am agitated and keep
moving around.

Can I rephrase the question? I
am agitated from all the moving around.
Very much

9. I feel
fatigued.

Not at all

Right as I finished, the
door to Dr. Charles Parker, PSY.D opened a tall slender man with
salt and pepper hair and hazel eyes stepped out into the reception
area. The doc was pretty hot…for an old man, older man I should
say. He was wearing dark grey slacks, a white dress shirt and a
light blue V-neck sweater layered on top.

“Ava?” He asked looking
between Rose and me. Rose nudged me with her elbow after I didn't
respond.

“Yup.” I replied standing up
looking back at Rose waiting for her to follow me.

“It’ll just be you and me,
Ava.” I looked at Rose trying to give her the
Oh, no you didn't look
, her eyes
begged for me to go in without causing a scene. I sighed heavily in
defeat. Dr. Charles Parker gestured for me to enter his office,
stepping through the threshold his office had the same black desk
as the receptionist but his was double the size, across from his
desk were two white leather loveseat facing each other with a black
coffee table in between. Behind the loveseat that was closest to
the door, stood a floor to ceiling dark wood bookshelf that was
filled with books.

“Take a seat.” He said
motioning towards both loveseats. I sat on the one facing the door.
Dr. Charles sat on the other one in his lap he read through the
forms I filled out, chuckling quietly. Was he laughing at me? What
the fuck is his problem? That is so not professional.

“I’m sorry, did I miss the
joke in the questionnaire?” I snarled.

“Oh, no, I apologize I
wasn't laughing at you, it was your answer to question seven, you
wrote down, no shit. Every time I read through these forms I always
say the same thing. I mean you’re obviously here seeking help for
something and ninety-nine percent of my patients are either sad or
unhappy. I was just agreeing with you.” He responded.