TWENTY-SEVEN.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - Reese



The scandal Petra released was causing a buzz in the whole city. Last night I went to Starbucks to get coffee and people kept pointing fingers at me, before I could even realize it, the paparazzi stormed in like a swarm of bees. It was a horrible experience, it was all over the state, my scandal. The comments on the Twitter app are something else. I haven't gone to work in four days and I haven't picked up Luthers's call either.

I disliked Petra. I hated someone so obsessed with what she can't have, I could imagine her on the bar drowning down a shot of whiskey, sick bastard. My mom called this morning asking about the scandal and why on earth I have decided to make myself a laughing stock, it felt bizarre because they never cared from the beginning. They weren't worried when uncle David molested me but now they were worried because it has to do with one of the youngest billionaires in town. They summoned me to take the next flight to Chicago as soon as possible. I didn't want to go at first but I wanted to see things for myself. It has been years since we last spoke.

I hated going back to Chicago. It brought back painful memories, memories I did not want to remember, stuff buried deep within me. I packed my bag and booked an early morning flight, still without telling Luther anything. I wonder how he would react if he found out that I was in Chicago. But again, this wasn't about him.

I got to Chicago by noon, I stepped into my parents' portico. I turned towards the garden, the garden with only one swing. The swing where I spent most of my days, was one of the safe spaces I had then. When dad is too busy with work to come home and when mom is too carried away with her social lifestyle, I sit on the swing till nightfall. I glanced at our outdoor pool, when I was six I almost drowned in the pool. Mom had friends over and I was sent out to play. I twisted my ankle and fell into the pool. It was where I learnt to hold my breath for ten minutes before I came out, I still have that phobia of water.

I stepped back towards the door, tapped on the welcome button and waited patiently. There were days when I could climb up a chair just so I could hear the sound of the bell ringing. It was my favorite music then, it meant my father was back. The door flew open and there my mother graced me with her majestic presence. Dressed in a light blue knee-length gown which exposes her shoulder. Her toenails were painted cream pink, and her hair was held tightly in a ponytail. She still wore heels around the house.

“Hello.” I greeted them firmly, shifting my food from one leg to the other. I instantly noticed I was supposed to clean my red nails before coming. Mom opened the door widely and let me in without comment, well I wasn't expecting a welcome hug was I?

I stepped into the large visitor's room, the room my mom always held all her grand parties and guests. We walked towards the hall, the same hall that led to many parts of the house. The halls I always rode my bike on. We headed towards the family space of the house where I met my father sitting well, patiently. I did not have anything to say to him either.

“Reese , how was your trip?” He smiled, flashing a small smile at me. At Least he said something reasonable.

“A little jet-lagged but I will be fine.” I insisted, as I made myself comfortable on the posh love seat, I have always had a thing for it.

“Who cares? Your name is flying on every TV station. How could you stoop so low? Do you know you have dragged Quinn's name into the mud!” Mom breathed, making me gape. My mom never ceases to amaze me, everything to her was always my fault, even when I lived my early years in pleasing her, I was never good enough even after I came back from uncle David's house, I was thrown and kicked in the floors of this same room for seducing my uncle. My mom never gave me the chance to explain myself. She just believed I was always wrong, at the fruitful age of six I knew my mother's depth of hatred for me.

“Are you just going to sit there and act clueless or you will give us some answers!?” She raged on.

“Oh, no, look who suddenly cares about reputation. It wasn't in your book when I was molested and you refuse to say a word about it or even take me to visit a doctor. So why do you care all of a sudden!?” I yelled. This was getting way too far. It was like my already broken heart was being trashed into atoms.

“And who told you I care? You could go to hell for all I care!” Mom cracked up.

Okay that hurt my feelings; I knew she never liked me but saying it to my face this way was so painful but whatever she had to say wouldn't move me. I promised myself it won't. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! I am not that six-year-old Reese you yell at!” I said in rage. “You don't deserve to be celebrated on mothers day because you are not o-”

I was cut short with a sting on my left cheek, I watched in horror as my mother stroked my face, her five fingers visibly printer on my already pale skin. The room was dead silent, the buzzing of the air conditioner could be heard so loud, and the hissing of the kettle could be heard from the kitchen. My eyes welled up in tears as I took my parents in, I took my shoulder bag and began to head out of their abode. Mom rushed over to me and tightly wrapped my hair over her hand in a fist making pain, I managed to free myself from her and pushed her off of me.

“You want answers, I'm going to give answers.” She wailed, dad, trying so hard to pull her off me.

“Alice! Stop it this moment! Stop this madness!” Dad yelled at her as he also pulled me from her.

“Your answers cannot hold me back! You don't deserve to be called a mother,” I uttered then faced my father. “And you! You both! You are evil!”

“I accept but please, calm down, Reese .” He responded with a pleading face.

“What have I ever done to you to deserve this treatment? Where did I go wrong growing up? Why am I being hated so much in a house that is supposed to be my comfort zone? Why Alice? Why!” I screeched.

“Because you remind me of her!” She yelled and I froze.

“Enough!” Dad's voice cut through the whole mansion like a warrior's sword, but it didn't stop me from asking the questions at the tip of my tongue.

I calmed down a bit. “Who's her?” I whispered, stepping close to mom who was tightly wrapped in a hug by dad as she sobbed heavily. I did not care about the crocodile tears she had rolling down her cheeks. She has played the victim for too long and I was over it.

“It is okay, Reese , I think you should go upstairs and take a rest. I accept I have my fault and I am sorry about your mother lashing out at you but I suggest we let everything die down a bit.” My dad was placated, but I wasn't going to have that. I'm one second away from finding out the truth behind their hatred, negligence and negative energy towards me. I need to know who this ‘her’ was that has ruined me, my childhood and my career.

“Who is her?” I inquired again, my heart pace increased for whatever answers I'm going to get, I felt sick to my bone marrow.

“Before you were born, we had a baby who we named Fiona. She was my baby and I was happy I had her. I loved her so much that I wouldn't let her go out of my sight for once. She was everything I had after your father. Fiona was bubbly and looked just like you, five months later she died in her sleep. I could not handle the pain. Her death caused so much havoc between your father and me for a while. After I had you, I remembered Fiona and so I decided not to give you the attention you needed because I thought I would lose you as I lost her too. I swear, I tried to love you but I couldn't when I had you.” My mom cried, her mascara smudged and it looked like she had aged ten times in the last ten minutes. Her nose was red from sniffing her nose and crying.

I became speechless, all this time, my mother hated me because I reminded her of the child she had before me? I glared at her, trying to find words to say to her. “You are crazy. You went through all this. . . both of you did not feel the need to tell me?” I finally said.

“I am not mad. I did not know. . .” My mum stuttered amidst tears.

This woman was fucked in the head. My parents were fucked in the head. “Reese , we are sorry. I know sorry can't fix this enough but we are.” My father begged.

“Why are you speaking for her? You are not any better! You were never around, do you know how many days I have counted on my fingers? I wanted you home badly maybe for you to speak sense into her too and now you want to feel sorry? Don't feel sorry.”

I took a look at the woman I called my mother again. She looked like a mother who lost a child; she looked in anguish and bitterness, consumed by guilt. She looked troubled as dad held her close to his chest and motioned me with his head to go upstairs, his eyes were red too. One could see from afar how the death of Fiona made them feel but I was the one who carried the blame and regret. They were so blinded by hurt and grief.

“I never knew the great Mrs Quinn couldn't shoulder guilt, you killed my sister who happened to be the first daughter of this house, do not pin the blame on me.” I made sure to hold eye contact so that the message would be well passed on and received. It was time for the turntables.

Mother was shocked. She didn't believe I was going to use my voice this way, I could see her heartbreaking all over again, I could see the guilt as she looked ten times older, not the woman who held her head high, spine and shoulder straight for about two hours again.

“Reese . . .” Dad protested.

“No, Dad. I need time.” I gently claimed the staircase I had always run on when I was a child.

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