Ch.32 - Talia

"Are you okay?" Charlie glanced at Talia before turning his eyes back to the road. "You've been quiet ever since the memorial service, and you barely touched your lunch. Not even the desserts." She could hear the playful banter in his voice at the mention of dessert and knew he was trying to make her smile. But she didn't feel like smiling.

"I wasn't hungry." Talia kept her gaze firmly planted on the steaming pavement in front of them. The sudden rain had saturated the streets but the sun was shining again, and mist rose up from the blacktop like a ghost.

"It was a nice memorial," she said quietly. "Don't you think?"

Charlie took a moment to answer. "It was very nice. And the tree they planted was a thoughtful gesture. I think Janice would have really liked it."

Talia nodded her head, although she hadn't really heard him. She was lost in thought. She wanted to believe her mind was wandering because of Janice, and in part it was, but there was another part of her that knew it was something more. And that made her feel guilty.

Her gaze fell to her hands folded in her lap, trembling slightly against the black silk of her skirt. As hard as she tried to forget him, Steven could never be erased from her thoughts. Her former husband lingered there like a knife wound, the blade still embedded. Every once in a while it would twist, pushing deeper inside of her. Today it twisted.

Talia tried to focus on the beautiful drive back into town. Tall trees stood on each side of them forming a canopy over top, and sunlight peeked through the branches leaving golden streaks and splashes everywhere. She leaned back in her seat and tried to relax, but found it wasn't easy. Her mind wouldn't stop racing.

Janice had left her husband, she'd escaped, only to return to him several weeks later. And now she was dead.

Most people wouldn't understand why she'd gone back. Talia knew Charlie didn't, only he was too kind to say it out loud. How could he possibly understand? People who've never been abused often say if their partner ever hit them they would leave. "It'd only take one time and I'd be out the door!" they'd insist. Talia had heard it all before, and she knew from experience it was easier said than done. Staying in or returning to an abusive relationship is far more complex than stating what seems like the obvious. The truth is, no one really knows how they would react in a situation like that until they found themselves in one. And by then, often times, it was too late.

It's easy to forget that the victim is in love with their abuser--as hard as that may be for some people to believe--and the violence they endure is typically followed by periods of affection and positive attention, which leaves the victim feeling confused and hopeful. Many abusers are remorseful after violent episodes and promise never to do it again, and the victim believes it because they want to believe it. They want to love and be loved in return. But by that time their self-confidence has already been destroyed. They come to accept violence as an unavoidable part of their life, and more often than not, they blame themselves. They've been repeatedly told it's their fault by their abuser, to the point they feel it's their responsibility to "fix" it.

No one understood that better than Talia.

Time and time again she'd tried to keep Steven happy. After three years of marriage she'd learned the rules. She dressed the way he wanted her to dress, kept her hair long and blonde just the way he liked, and she never spoke out of turn. She said the words she knew he wanted to hear and made love to him every night, just as he expected. But it was never enough. And every time he hit her Steven would apologize over and over. He'd cry, tears streaming down his cheeks, and blame it on the pressure of his job, or that he'd had a bad day. He'd tell her he was hitting her for her own good, he didn't want to do it, but she was doing something wrong and needed to be corrected. He would tell her he loved her. And for a long time she believed him...until she didn't.

Talia still remembered the day she saw her husband for the man he really was. It was Labor Day and Steven had decided to have a cook-out, inviting the co-workers and neighbors he always said he despised. He'd spent the entire afternoon playing chef at the grill, chatting and flipping hamburgers and laughing at stupid jokes. And she played the happy hostess, giggling as Steven whispered into her ear, playfully swatting at his hand when he grabbed her behind. She passed horderves and desserts to their guests and smiled at them until her cheeks were numb.

And then that evening after everyone had gone home, Steven confronted her in the kitchen. He'd called her a whore and a slut for wearing a fitted sundress and told her he didn't like the way she smiled at his boss. She was too friendly, played the part too well. What everyone must have thought watching his pretty, young wife flirt with all the men! He drew back his hand and belted her across the face, breaking her nose. Drops of blood spilled onto the fabric of her dress, blossoming like flowers against the soft white cotton.

It wasn't the first time she'd seen her own blood and it wouldn't be the last, but for some unknown reason it was the time that stood out the most. Maybe because it was the first time he'd broken her nose, or because he'd refused to take her to the hospital to get the injury checked out. He'd forced her to suffer in silence with nothing more than an ice pack and a couple of Ibuprofen to numb the pain. Still to this day, her nose sat slightly crooked on her face, not enough that most people would notice but she saw it every time she looked in the mirror.

But she was not going to admit to Charlie what was on her mind. It was too ugly and painful. And it wasn't fair to force him to relive her past when she didn't want to relive it herself. Instead, she changed the subject.

"How's your arm feeling?" She could see him consider her question and wondered if he'd tell her the truth. The pain, she knew, was greater than he'd admit. The way he held his face blank and stiff told her that. Over the past three years, she'd come to recognize his every facial expression, even the ones he tried to hide from her. The sleepless nights and nightmares he swore he never had, she was aware of every single one. There was nothing he could keep from her, and she figured he must feel the same way. The way he looked at her now told her he knew she'd purposely switched topics. But just like Charlie, he let her off the hook.

Wind cooled by rain whistled through the half-open window, and Charlie brushed a brown curl away from his forehead. "My arm's still tender. But better than yesterday."

"Would you like some pain medicine?"

"No, I'm good. I don't need that stuff."

Talia studied Charlie's profile for a long moment, his squared jawline with half a days growth barely evident, the way his brow knitted in concentration as he followed the curves of the road, and she felt her breath hitch. Never in a million years would she understand what she did to deserve someone like him in her life, and not a day went by she didn't thank God for him. Charlie was a good man. He was a wonderful father to their daughter and a loving, thoughtful husband to her. And Enid claimed he was "the best son to ever walk the face of the earth!" Talia reached for his hand and their fingers tangled together. "I love you," she whispered, not quite trusting her voice.

Charlie glanced at her with a crooked half-smile. "I love you, too." He gave her hand a squeeze. She could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to ask again if she was okay, but he bit back the question, already knowing the answer and knowing she wasn't ready to talk about it. "You're the best. You know that, Mrs. Wilson?" His brown eyes crinkled at the corners.

"You're the best," she repeated, and for the first time that day Talia allowed herself a smile. "Will you at least take some Ibuprofen? You know your mom has plans to put us to work."

Charlie's lopsided smile turned into a grin. "You're not going to give up until I take something, are you?"

Talia pressed her lips together and shook her head.

He let out a defeated sigh. "Alright, I'll take some. Just for you."

Talia smiled and began to rummage through her purse for the medicine bottle. She handed over two round-shaped burgundy pills and twisted off the cap to a bottle of water sitting in the cup holder on the dash. Charlie swallowed them down without further complaint and their hands linked back together like magnets.

"You'll thank me tonight," Talia teased lightly. "I can only imagine what your mother has waiting for us. Do you think you're up for it?"

Charlie nodded. "I'm sure I'll be fine. I've been taking it easy the past couple of days. My shoulder doesn't hurt nearly as much as it did." He gave it a stretch and flinched.

By the time they pulled up to The Ivy House, storm clouds had started to roll back in across the blue sky and thunder growled in the distance. Charlie stepped out of the truck and went around to open the passenger door.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?" he asked as he helped Talia to her feet.

Talia felt a warmth cross over her cheeks. It didn't matter how many times Charlie complimented her she always felt dazzled, like he couldn't possibly be talking to her. "I think maybe five times." She smiled and pulled him to her, lacing her arms around his neck. "I'm so lucky you're mine."

"I think I'm the lucky one," he said, brushing his lips to hers.

Talia's heart began to race as it did every time her husband was close. Charlie tilted his head and deepened the embrace, somehow bringing her even closer, and she felt like she could melt into him and be perfectly happy. Her sensations were so overwhelming, she wanted to allow herself to be carried away, but the sound of Carter crying carried on the breeze toward them, forcing her to remember they were standing at the curb for everyone to see. "Charlie..." Breathless, Talia stepped back, ending the moment.

Charlie looked down at her, his eyes soft. "I know, I know, our princess is calling. She's awfully tenacious. I have no idea where she gets that from."

Talia giggled. "She gets it from your mother."

"I'm sure you're right." He smiled and leaned in for one last kiss.

Fingers entwined, they walked toward the house and when the screen door swung open, Talia froze. Jackson stood in front of them, holding Carter in his arms, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end like a warning. Something was wrong, she could feel it.

"Jackson?" Charlie asked, confused.

Jackson stepped onto the porch and the door snapped shut behind him. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I tried to call both of you," he began.

Talia raced up the steps to meet him, reaching out for Carter. She took the baby into her arms noticing the warmth radiating from her as she hugged her close. She'd been crying for awhile.

"We were at a memorial service," she heard Charlie say. "Our phones were turned off. Where's my mother?"

Panic tinged his voice and Talia turned toward him, her fingers continuing to brush sweaty strands of hair away from Carter's face. The baby clung to her and Talia felt her tiny body shudder as she struggled to catch her breath.

Jackson hesitated. "Something happened. I'm not sure what. I overheard the paramedics say a possible heart attack."

"Wait, what?" Charlie stepped forward, his voice rising with each word. "The paramedics were here?"

"Yes, I called them before I called you," Jackson said. "They rushed your mother to the hospital so I stayed behind with Carter. I wasn't sure what else to do. Only, she's been crying ever since they left, the poor dear. I think she knows something's wrong."

"They took my mother to the hospital?" Charlie repeated the words as if he were trying to decipher them. "How long ago?"

"Gosh, I don't know. Maybe an hour?"

Talia met Charlie's eyes. "We need to go."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Hello, and thank you for reading Secrets and Lies! If you enjoyed this chapter, please remember to hit that star!

Looks like Jackson did the right thing and called for help. Has he turned a new leaf? I wouldn't get your hopes up. ;)

Tune in next week for an update and thank you again for reading!