Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

I knew without her saying a word that my sister had her fists tightened at that, because no one in my family knew of the abuse until I left Randy.

As it so often goes.

“So, I don’t…” I continued, sobs still breaking up my sentences. I forced a calming breath as best I could. “I don’t know, my memory is foggy. But… I really think I did.”

“Then you have to testify.”

My jaw dropped. “Gab… I can’t. He’ll make me look crazy. He’ll turn it around on me. And even if somehow they did believe me over him, and let’s say he goes to jail, then what? What do I tell Paige?”

“The truth,” she said. “Being her mother doesn’t always mean hiding the bad things from her, Sis. Sometimes, it means showing her the bad things — leading her to them and teaching her how to handle them. This world is a fucked-up place, and you know that more than I do.” She paused. “I don’t know what would happen if you did testify, if the Beckers took Randy and Patrick and whoever else to court to get to the bottom of all of this but… I do know that if you stood with them, you’d be doing the right thing. And I know that’s what you want to do.”

My stomach rolled so violently I nearly lost my breakfast, and I shook my head against the urge to throw up. “But…”

“I know,” she said, and I knew I didn’t need to finish my sentence. “It’s terrifying. You’ve been in survival mode for so long that this goes against everything you stand for. But, Sydney, do you really think you’d be okay to just sit back, lose the first guy to ever truly care for you, and watch him fight for justice for his entire family without you there on his side, helping?”

My face warped with emotion, and I shook my head, laying my tear-stained cheek on my knee. “No,” I whispered. “But, Paige…”

“Mama?”

My head shot up, and Paige stood in the doorway, her little face so sad it nearly broke my heart as she took in the sight of me crying.

“Hey, baby,” I said, wiping my face. “I have to go, Sis. I’ll call you later,” I told Gabby, and I ended the call, forcing a smile and patting my lap — signaling for Paige to come join me.

She padded over slowly, crawling into my lap as I wrapped her up in a fierce hug.

“Everything’s okay, sweetheart,” I told her as I rocked her. “Mama’s just having a bad week, that’s all.”

“Is it because you and Jordan broke up?”

Shock zipped through me, and I couldn’t hide the expression on my face as I pulled back to look at my daughter.

“Come on, Mom,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Did you really think I didn’t know?”

I covered my smile with my hand, amused. “Know what, exactly?”

“That you and Jordan are boyfriend and girlfriend, but that you thought you were hiding it from me and everyone else. But, I’m smart, Mom. I see the way he looks at you.”

“And what way is that?”

“Like he loooooves you,” she said, drawing out the word and tapping my nose with her fingertip. We both giggled, and then she looked sad again. “But he hasn’t been here all week, and you haven’t been sleeping, and I knew something was wrong when you guys were acting weird at the game yesterday. You broke up, didn’t you?”

I sighed, but nodded, deciding it was no use to hide it from her now.

“Why, Mama? I like Jordan. I like having him here with us. He’s nice, and we play football, and he was nice to you, too, wasn’t he?”

My heart squeezed in my chest, and I let out another breath, trying to find the words to explain it to her, all the while trying to digest the words my sister had said to me. But before I could figure it all out, there was a loud, pounding knock at the front door — so loud we heard it all the way through the house and out the back door.

Then, a muted voice from around the other side of the house.

“Open up, Syd. It’s me.”

“Daddy?” Paige looked at me, surprised, before she jumped off my lap and sprinted through the house to the front door.

When I caught up to her, my heart stopped altogether.

She was looking up at where Randy stood on the porch, telling him how we’d made pancakes that morning to celebrate the big win, but I couldn’t take my eyes off my ex-husband. He was a complete disaster — his hair sweaty and matted to his forehead, eyes bloodshot, hands trembling where he patted our daughter’s head with an affectionate smile.

He’d been drinking, or worse, and when his eyes met mine, I knew without a doubt that he’d come looking for a fight.