I never imagined the life ahead. And I never thought it would be twelve years before I’d return to my former life.
Momma got up and went to the big picture window. “Go ahead, Kendall. Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. You’re not going to hurt my feelings,” she told me.
“Why didn’t you come out of the bedroom that night? Didn’t you hear her?” I asked quickly. It was the one thing I’d wanted to know for years.
“I was sure it was like every time before. I thought she was there to complain about something that didn’t go her way. You know, with a man or with something she was plotting. Wanda was always in trouble with someone.” Momma sighed.
“She hated you so much,” I told her.
She shook her head and sat back down. “She hated me so much she took my kid away for twelve years. Now that’s hate. I was young. I thought that man in my bedroom that night loved me and you.”
I pursed my lips. “Did he?” I couldn’t even remember who the man was.
“Of course not. I was the girl who got knocked up by Leon. I was the laughing stock of Gusby. He left that night and never came back.” She frowned and dropped her chin toward her chest in shame.
I thought how she was probably always sad because she was alone with no one to love her. She was alone with a child.
“Why didn’t you do anything when you discovered your daughter was missing?” I didn’t want to be mean and upset her more than she already was, but I needed answers.
Her eyes filled with concern. She smoothed her hair behind her ear. “I called the sheriff. I told him that Wanda was the last one at the house that night. They knew our family. They chalked it up to a typical sisterly spat and told me if it was Wanda she would bring you back home,” she explained.
She pulled something from the box of photographs—a worn-out paper. It was more than a piece of paper. It was proof that my mom had tried to get me back. She tried to get help in finding me.
Scrawled across the top in sloppy handwriting were the words ‘Domestic Complaint.’ It didn’t say kidnapped or missing person. They had classified my disappearance as a family dispute. My entire life had been turned upside-down because nobody wanted to help my mother.
“Our family was always in trouble with the law. We weren’t good people. And then with the situation with Leon they just didn’t care or have the means to fund a search for a poor girl from Gusby. Kendall, I’m so, so sorry,” she said, crying all over again.
We talked all the way into the evening. She wanted to know everything. All the things I’d been through. She wanted every detail.
I told her about our travels. I made up stories of all the different places I saw. I concocted half-truths about many of the things I told her—I didn’t want her to know how bad it really was. I told her I was even happy at times and how I’d missed her. And went so far as to say it wasn’t as bad as it really was.
I couldn’t break her heart all over again. I could see she’d had her heart broken a long time ago and I thought she had suffered enough.
She wasn’t the awful person Aunt Wanda had brainwashed me to believe she was.
It made sense to me now why Aunt Wanda didn’t want me to go home. She didn’t want me to go home because the truth was waiting. My mom may have been young and irresponsible, but she loved me and cared about me. She didn’t think of me as a mistake. She’d wanted me when Leon didn’t. She was far from perfect but she was my mother.
“I want to help you out. And I want you to know you and Mason are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. We can go first thing in the morning to try and get this straightened out if you want to. I don’t want you two to have to worry about what Wanda and Payton did. You guys are kids. You shouldn’t have to suffer for their sins,” she said.
We both stood up from the table, our bodies aching and weary from the long reunion.
“I think that’s a good idea, but what about Mason? I’m worried about him,” I said for the hundredth time.
Momma bit down on her lip. She touched my arm to reassure me that everything would be fine. She knew she couldn’t promise, but she was going to try. I knew I hadn’t told her the whole truth and I was still scared.
“Mason is a good boy. And he loves you. And I can tell you love him. We’ll all figure this out together. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow will be here before we know it,” she said.
I crawled into bed with Mason. He was sound asleep. I wrapped my arm around him and smiled at the feel of his warm skin against mine. It was so comforting.
“I think we’re going to be okay, Mason,” I whispered in his ear.
He didn’t respond, of course. I kissed his forehead and drifted off to sleep.
JULY 27
TH
DIXIE SQUEALED WITH JOY as Mason threw a ball around with her. She ran back and forth across the yard after each throw, squealing every time Mason pretended she beat him to it.
I couldn’t stop smiling as we all goofed around in the backyard. Mason was happier as well.
“Hey, Dixie, see if you can catch this,” Mason said.
She clapped her hands happily and her pigtails whipped wildly behind her as she ran. She was the cutest little girl I’d ever seen. I had never met such a character, and she was my sister. Mom had done a good job with her. She was smart and full of life.
“So after all these years you find out Joy-Ann was a good mother after all,” Mason said. He stepped back and lobbed the ball in Dixie’s direction.
“She cared. I know she wasn’t perfect, but it’s nice to know she did care,” I said, plucking a dandelion from the ground.
Mason nodded, watching Dixie take a tumble as she chased after the runaway ball.
“I am happy for you Ken-doll,” he said, emphasizing my name in a weird way like old times.
“What for, Mason?” I said. I pulled at the leaves of the dandelion.
“You weren’t disappointed. And from what I remember about your mom, she wasn’t that bad. She always snuck me candy. I think the only thing she was guilty of was not keeping her legs together,” he grinned.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, trying to remember anything at all other than screaming matches between her and Wanda.
“It’s good, Kendall. It’s really good,” Mason said. He jumped, catching the ball Dixie threw at him.
“What about your grandparents. Don’t you want to see them?” I asked. Mason had very few relatives. And he didn’t seem interested to see them.
Mason made a face. “Shit, Kendall. It’s not a happy reunion when you come back worse than when you left. I don’t want to burden anyone,” he said, brushing the subject off.
I decided not to say anything else. It was obvious he didn’t want to discuss it.
“What happens now?” I asked.
Mason clutched the ball tightly. Dixie ran toward us to get it. He shot me a look right before she tackled him.
“Come on, Mason!” she squealed. “Momma said I can’t spit on you anymore.”
“She’s a smart lady then,” he said, lifting the ball high above his head, teasing her some more.
“Just when I was starting to think you were a good guy,” she said, crossing her arms.
Mason laughed, dropping the ball. “You really think I’m a good guy, Dixie?”
“Yes. Don’t tell anyone, but I think you look like an angel. You have eyes like them. And their skin,” she told him. She rubbed at her nose.