I had to deal with Maya first. Then Teke. One way or another, the torture I’d endured for so long would end. Either by my hand or by Decker or Krew’s. Before I left this town, everyone would know who Maya really was and what that son of a bitch Teke had done to me.
Mom and Dad didn’t take the news of the rape well—no parents would have. And, they didn’t understand why I hadn’t confided in them to help or asked them for help.
They were hurt by my lack of trust and was confused on why I thought they wouldn’t have taken care of me.
Even though Maya had insisted that runaway was my only option, my decision to leave was solely on my shoulders.
I went through the last several years of my life as we sat at the kitchen table. I didn’t have the heart to tell my parents that I changed my name, but maybe… I’d eventually change it back. Maybe.
Through it all, we cried. We argued. We laughed. We ate dinner—meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn and homemade gravy. How could I have forgotten it was Thursday.
But something felt missing. Like a key piece—or pieces, of who I loved wasn’t with me.
Too exhausted to talk any more, I hugged and kissed my parents, then went to bed in my old bedroom, shocked they’d kept it ready for me all this time.
There was too much to unpack in my head—everything that happened in Chicago and Vermont was still swirling around in my thoughts. And now, with what my parents told me about the town, the people I once knew and the life they’d led without me.
I finally went to sleep only after I settle my thoughts on what I was going to say to Maya and the mess she put me and Krew in. Tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty
Regina
The funeral service for Joseph Darvy, Elida’s ex-mayor and the owner of Darvy’s Tech Repair & Solutions, was standing room only. The townsfolk packed the Lutheran chapel off Pine Street. My parents and I sat in the back pews, since I didn’t want to be anyone’s focus.
I’d seen Maya and her mother, Briney Darvy, along with several other family members in the front pews. We never made eye contact until the procession out of the chapel. Even then, our glance toward each other lasted for less than a second.
The whole time I sat there, I was on the edge of my seat. For one, I’d expected Decker and Krew to crash inside, causing all sorts of ruckus. But no, they hadn’t shown up… Yet. And two, Teke had arrived, dressed in dirty jeans and a jean jacket that had seen better days, and he sat kitty-corner from us.
My mother forcibly restrained my father from jumping up from the pew and beating the hell out of Teke. “Bob. We’re in church.” It was all she said before my dad settled on sneering at my attacker, with an unspoken promise of retribution.
After the service at the chapel and interment at Memorial Park Cemetery in Lima, most of the mourners headed over to the Darvy’s home in Lima for a luncheon. My mother contributed a broccoli casserole in her favorite fish-shaped dish. It was one of my favorites of her foods.
Not a half an hour in from talking to people I hadn’t seen in years, and I was anxious to confront Maya about the past, the lies she had told, and the kill contracts on my and Krew’s heads.
I looked for Maya in the kitchen but quickly scooted out of there, because nosy Ms. Gina Smith was the last person I wanted to chat with. She’d make all sorts of innuendos about where I’d been all these years. And she’d keep on digging until she was satisfied with the answers. No thank you.
I diverted to the hallway that led to Joseph Darvy’s den and the powder room. Half way down, I heard voices coming from the den—Maya and her mother were arguing.
Without thought, I slipped into the powder room and partially closed the door so I could still hear what the mother-daughter duo were fighting about.
“I still can’t believe you’d invite all these people back here, Mother,” Maya huffed.
“We have to keep up with appearances—your father would have wanted that?—”
“You have no money! Your husband gambled it all away. There’s nothing left, except what Grandma Katie left me and he couldn’t…”
The next thing I heard was glass crashing—like someone had thrown something through the window, and then Maya was screaming. “Are you fucking kidding me? How in the hell did he get his hands on my money, Mother?”
“Quiet down. And you’re going to pay for that window and have my Persian rug cleaned.”
“I think I already did,” Maya shot back in a hiss.
“I’m sorry but I needed that money or I would have lost this house.”
“Maybe you were better off without it,” Maya grated out in rage.
“I said quiet. I don’t want rumors?—”
