10. Facade
2193 Words
Darby's POV
I stare after Hope as she and Jessie walk out the front door without saying goodbye to us. Mom sighs, and I turn around to look at her. She, like me, looks out the window and follows the siblings with her eyes.
"Why didn't she say goodbye?" Noah asks, confused.
"She's ashamed," dad replies.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know how much you remember about Hope. But you played with her when you were a child, and she watered the flowers in the garden when we were away. She's been taking care of her dad and Jessie for many years," mom replies.
"Where's her mother?" I ask.
"Jessie's and Hope's mother left them many years ago. No one really knows why. Maybe she felt that the mom-life wasn't for her or something else. Their father, Farris, didn't handle that situation well and began to drink much more than before. Hope had to take over responsibility for herself, Jessie, Farris, the economy, and the household. At the time, she was only nine years old, and she had to take responsibility for ten years over something that should never have been hers. Now it seems that her father has made a fool of himself, and Hope needs to pick him up the pieces. She asked Jessie to look for liquor bottles in the house and pour them out before they get back home. I guess she plans on trying to get him clean yet again. Hence she called it home-made rehab," mom explains, and my heart breaks for Hope.
When I was nine years old, I could play and not have to care about such things. My parents have always made sure that we're doing well no matter what. Hell, mom even left dad to protect us when we were babies. I can't imagine what it must feel like to take such responsibility and then maintain it for so many years.
"I recognize that shame because that's how I felt when my adopted dad showed up at my school," mom says, looking at me. "It's a horrible feeling to live with, and the weight of it can break any human being. We need to be extra supportive for her now."
"How are we supposed to be supportive if she's only here in the daytime when she's working and no one else is around?" I ask, confused.
"Well, we could invite her and Jessie to dinner," Noah suggests, getting a grin on his lips. "She's interested in you; you know that?"
"What?" I ask. "Why would such a beautiful and steady woman be interested in a train wreck like me?"
"You're both hopeless," he sighs. "Hope said the same thing basically when I brought it up with her."
"Wait a minute here now. Are you discussing my daughter's nanny's attraction to someone during work hours?" I exclaim with eyes wide open. "It's nothing we should interfere with, Noah. What she does in her spare time or who she's interested in, we have nothing to do with it."
"Bore," he mumbles, and I throw a pillow at him.
Caleb comes in through the front door, and when our eyes meet, he looks angrier than ever before, going up the stairs to his room. He slams the door, and mom sighs. I don't know what to do to resolve the situation with my big brother.
"I'll talk to him," Noah says, going after Caleb.
"It'll be fine, ljubica," mom sighs and kisses my cheek. "I'll go up with Camilla. She's tired and can barely keep her eyes open."
I nod and walk out into the kitchen to sit on a barstool at the kitchen counter. Dad follows, opens the fridge, and brings out two beers. He sits down next to me and pushes one of the bottles to me that I gratefully receive.
"Why do you think mom is so protective of Hope?" I ask and look at him.
"Because she sees herself," he responds with a sad smile. "When I met your mother, she was in a dark place in life and was pregnant with the three of you. She was big as a whale, but shoot me now if she wasn't the most beautiful whale ever. As you know, we didn't know who the other was then since we used other names on the occasion we created you. We got close very quickly, and it didn't take long for me to feel as if we had known each other all my life. Unfortunately, it took a lot of time for me to realize that I didn't want to live without her. We concluded in hindsight that it was probably the reason why we never protected ourselves when we had our intimate moments because we wanted to reunite again and again until we stayed with each other. No one protected her when she was a child, and no one protects Hope now. Therefore, your mother wants to take care of her. How would you feel if someone mistreated Fiona or, even worse, Camilla?"
"I would pull out every body part one by one," I answer darkly, and dad laughs.
"There, you see," he says, smiling. "Hope was an outstanding girl when she was little, and it hurt me when I found out that she walked all the way here every day to take care of the garden. That's why I taught her some self-defense in case anything happened. We live in New York, after all. You played with each other sometimes after that, but a few years ago, she quit Chapman, and none of us saw her again until now."
Ever since I saw Hope for the first time, I've been thinking and comparing her to Melissa. What if I met Hope instead and got little Camilla with her? I can figure out with my ass that Hope would've been a much better mother than Melissa could ever be.
After all, she has been taking care of her little brother since she was nine years old and still does. I admire that strength, renouncing what makes her happy to instead make sure Jessie should never have to do the same. That doesn't mean I think it's right, though, since she shouldn't have to do that.
"What do you think of Hope?" dad suddenly asks, and I'm hurled back into reality.
"She's a good nanny, and Camilla obviously loves her. Otherwise, she wouldn't have calmed down the way she did this morning," I reply without looking at him, which leads him to chuckle low at me.
"That's not what I asked," he says, smiling knowingly. "I asked what you think of her."
"She's beautiful and stable, the kind of woman I'll never be able to be with," I respond, sighing.
"What do you mean?" dad asks and furrows his eyebrows.
"I'm anything but stable. My mood is f****d up, and I've accomplished so much s**t that I don't even know what "normal" means anymore. A woman like her would never choose me," I whisper.
"Nonsense," mom snorts when she comes into the room. "How could any woman say no to my handsome boy?"
"You're my mother. You have to say such things," I say, smiling.
"I don't have to!" she exclaims. "That's what your dad says periodically, too, just because I happen to be his wife. But he keeps forgetting that I think he looks awful when he's hungover."
"Everyone looks awful when they're hungover, mom," Fiona says, who shows up out of nowhere and opens the fridge.
"What am I hearing!?" dad exclaims in a low tone. "It's best for you to stay away from the alcohol."
It's a little unfair in our family when it comes to us siblings. Dad thinks it's okay if we boys drink alcohol, provided it's in controlled situations and reasonable amounts. While just the thought of his only daughter, Fiona, even drinking a drop makes him s**t bricks.
"Come on, Damien," mom says, slamming a wooden spoon in his head. "Let your daughter have fun while she can. Look what I did at that age, and I'm okay."
"Hm, enlighten me," he begins. "Wasn't it you that got pregnant with the boys somewhere between eighteen and nineteen years of age?"
"Touché," mom replies, smiling big. "However, it was with you, and I'm the best thing that happened to you."
"You're damn right about that!" dad says, and they start kissing.
"Children in the room!" Fiona says without looking up from her phone, and our parents let go of each other with groans of disapproval.
"I still think that rule is unfair," dad mumbles.
"Your siblings became uncomfortable by our kisses that they set a rule over how much PDA is okay," mom explains when she sees my confused gaze, which makes me laugh out loud.
The laughter quickly dies out, however, when someone knocks rapidly and hard on the front door. Mom goes and opens the door. I'm curious but too lazy to stand up and look for who it is.
"Mrs. Novak!" a voice exclaims, and I recognize it instantly.
I walk out into the living room with my sister and dad in tow at the same time my brothers come down from upstairs. Jessie has red-blasted eyes and has blood on his former white T-shirt. His whole body is shaking, and he doesn’t seem to know what to do.
“Jessie,” I say, looking behind him. “Where’s Hope?”
“That’s why I’m here,” he replies, starting to cry, making it difficult to understand what he’s saying. “He was so angry. I can’t move her on my own. What am I supposed to do? Flowerpots and swordfish painting on the stairs. Blood. Countertop.”
In the end, mom hugs him and caresses his back for him to calm down enough to be able to explain what has happened. His tremors subside, and he breathes a couple of times deeply before making another attempt at talking.
“Farris went insane when Hope came home with him because he didn’t find his booze,” Jessie explains, and the tears fall on his cheeks. “He realized that it was I who poured it out and probably wanted to hurt me. But Hope intervened, as a result of which he took out all his anger on her. I don’t know exactly what happened since she told me to get up in my room when it started escalating. But I heard that he threw things, and after a while, it became quiet. When I went down, I saw her lying on the floor. There’s blood everywhere, but she’s not in a life or death situation. She asked me to hurry here to safety before he came back again, and to leave her behind.”
I put on my shoes and jacket before hurrying out the door. Dad and my brothers, even Caleb, come with me in the car. I drive like a crazy person and zigzag between the vehicles to get to her house as fast as possible.
“She’s okay, Darby,” dad says in a soft tone, and I hope he’s right. “She must be.”
❖ ❣ ❖ ❣ ❖
When we get to the house, I jump out of the car and run inside. Just like Jessie said, the whole floor is in rubble, and there are pieces of glass everywhere. However, what scares me the most is the smeared blood on the floor and several cabinet doors.
“Hope!” I shout and check all downstairs before I decide to do the same upstairs.
I look in every room I find, and it’s not until I get to the end of the corridor that I notice a door that’s locked. At first, I’m quiet and listen carefully to try to find out if it’s Hope or Farris hiding on the other side.
“Hope, it’s Darby. Please open the door,” I beg her, and it takes almost a minute before the lock opens.
I slam the door open and stop abruptly when I see the beautiful Hope lying on the floor. Her face is swollen, bloody and she has a dark black eye. The plump lips are dry and cracked after he probably hit her.
“Oh, Hope,” I whisper, and she smiles weakly at me.
“It seems like you got to be my knight in shining armor after all.”
A / N:
Hey, everybody!
Ugh, it seems Farris has been violent. The question is whether this was a one-time thing or whether it’s a repeated pattern? Regardless, I think we can agree that she and Jessie have to get out of there, right?
~ What do you think it was that made Farris explode? Was it really the alcohol?
~ What do you think the Novak family will do now?
~ Is it love at first sight in denial between Darby and Hope?
I would be very happy for some comments. Want to please a writer? Then that’s what you’re going to do. I love you all. Thank you for always being there for me<3
- Writer
