Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 24
I HIT SPEED DIAL OVER AND OVER again. It goes to voicemail every single time.
“Aunt Peggy,” I cry into the phone. “Please pick up.”
I bang my hands on the steering wheel and merge onto the interstate. I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t care.
How is this happening?
Garrett’s father killed my family?
GARRETT’S FATHER KILLED MY FAMILY.
I press my foot to the floor and accelerate as fast as I can.
My cell phone rings and I look down at the Caller ID.
Garrett.
I send the call to voicemail and throw the phone into the back seat. I slam my foot to the floor and drive.
And then I scream.
My tears flow through my wails. It’s hard to see, but I keep going. I grip the wheel; my knuckles turn white. Is this my fault? If Ben hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have ever met Garrett and Kai, and things would be normal. Right? This is a sick twist of fate that I don’t deserve. I realize I’m being selfish, but who fucking cares. I don’t deserve this. I fell in love for the first time in my life with not just one person, but two. Garrett and Kai. The reel keeps playing in my head, and I fast-forward to a future vision when Kai’s a toddler, running around and playing with his father. And me. I have no right to envision what could have been. They aren’t my family. Garrett’s father took that away from me.
My sobs fill the car playing a sad, sick tune to the emptiness. Memories continue to flash through my mind as if I’m re-living every single moment. Every piercing cry from Kai’s small body. Every touch and yearning look from Garrett. All of the highs and all of the lows. We spent the better part of six months forming a support structure to help protect and nurture his son. It all came crashing down today in a burning pile of ash.
I wipe my eyes and see a highway sign.
Hershey.
I’ve been driving for at least an hour and a half. I look down at my gas gauge and see I only have about a quarter of a tank left. And I don’t have my wallet or purse with me.
Fuck.
I take the next exit and turn around. I hope I can at least make it back to my aunt’s house with what’s left in my tank of gas.
My cell phone starts ringing again from the back seat. I reach back and tap my hand around, trying to find it. I finally grab it and see the caller ID.
Garrett.
Again.
Garrett
Present
Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 27
“HERE’S DADDY.” PEGGY’S CHEERFUL VOICE echoes through the kitchen where I’m pacing back and forth. I’ve been dialing Sam’s number constantly for the past hour since she left. She won’t pick up and I’m sick.
When Peggy walks into the kitchen with Kai, she freezes in her steps. “Garrett? What’s going on?” she asks hesitantly, and she looks alarmed.
“Not now,” I say and hit Sam’s speed dial again. This time it goes right to voicemail. “Sam, it’s me. Call me, please. I need to know you’re okay. Please,” I plead and end the call.
Peggy holds Kai close and asks again, “What’s going on? Is Sam okay?”
I stop pacing and look at her. She’s terrified, and Kai senses it too.
“Peggy, something happened. I can’t even begin to explain it.”
She kisses Kai on his forehead and says to him, “It’s time for your nap. I know you’re exhausted after the fun day we had.” She turns to me, “I’ll be down soon. Don’t go anywhere.”
I continue to call Sam’s phone and can’t get through.
Before I know it, Peggy is standing in front of me. “What’s going on?”
I drop my arms down to my sides and lower my head. “Peggy, there’s something you need to know. Something I just found out.”
She sits tentatively on the stool in the kitchen and her eyes widen. “Is Sam alright?” she asks, worried.
I plant myself on the floor across from her and tell her everything. All that I’ve found out about how our families are connected. What my father did to her brother and sister-in-law, Sam’s parents. As I recount the stories that I knew growing up along with what swirled around our local news stations, her eyes become more and more drawn. Tears spill down her cheeks and I feel like I’m personally responsible for them. For what my father has done. For the lives of their family that have been destroyed.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say,” I say to Peggy as she stares off into space. “What can I do?” I ask.
She wipes the tears from her face and inhales deeply. Her shock is tangible.
“There’s nothing to do,” she says simply.
“What?” I ask in disbelief.
“You didn’t do this, Garrett. Your father did. You have no control over what that man did with his life. You yourself told me that the last time you laid eyes on him was when you were seven. How could you possibly know or even predict that he would murder two people at the same time he took his own life? It’s impossible. You can’t own his crimes. You can’t take the blame for his sins.”
“But Sam…” I say, hoping that she’s okay.
“Does she know?” Peggy asks, concerned.
“Yes, I figured it out an hour ago and told her. When she told me how her parents died, I realized immediately that it was my father who killed them. I had no idea, Peggy. How could I have not known?” When I found out that my father was a murderer, I shut out everything. I refused to watch anything on TV about what he did. The media was relentless, and the faces of her parents were everywhere. I shut everything out, including their names. Soon after, Epic Fail started touring and we wound up in Europe for months. Nobody knew me there and what my father had done.
She pulls me into a hug and rubs my back like my mother always did when I was younger.
“You could be asking me the same question,” Peggy says. “How could I have not known? I’ve been working for you for close to six years. I followed the story when it happened to the point of obsession. I tried to trace everything about that man and what made him tick. I tried to understand what would cause a human being to take another’s life from them. I did everything I could to unearth the mysteries surrounding your father.”
“My last name was changed when I was a teenager. My stepdad adopted me after my mother had my father’s parental rights terminated. I took the name Armstrong to make it official.”
“That explains why I couldn’t find his family when I was looking,” she says, nodding her head.
“I’m worried about Sam.”
“Me too. But one thing you need to know about her is that she rarely gets this upset. Her rational, logical mind always wins and takes over in almost all situations. She’ll be back.” But I don’t think that Peggy believes what she’s saying.
And neither do I.
Sam
Present
Villanova, Pennsylvania