Authors: Silla Webb
“Was that the situation? Did Daddy keep you from us?” I’m so confused!
Momma wipes her cheeks with a Kleenex, stifling back the tears. “I’m not going to slander your father, Carly. But there is so much more to the story, than you know.”
“Damn it, I need answers. Why is everyone so secretive in this family? Tell me! Screw scarring his good name. That ship has sailed. I know more than you think, but there are still so many damn holes in the story, I need the gaps filled in. I need the truth!”
Momma’s mouth drops and she freezes at the window. She stares at me briefly, then turns her back to me, staring out the window at the snow kissing the ground. “You want ho
nesty, young lady? Carly, your father did everything in his life, for personal gain. He was a greedy, selfish bastard. He was a dishonest, unfaithful thief of life. Karma served him well.” Her voice is harsh and cold. I walk to her, and slide my hand in hers. I look deep into her big brown eyes, and slip two small words from my lips.
“Drew Varney.” She rips her hand from mine, grasps her chest with one hand, covering her mouth with the other. Her eyes are wide and fearful. “Momma, what’s wrong?” I ask, knowing the answer. That name haunts her as much as it does me.
“Where did you hear that name from, Carly?” she asks me, looking down at the floor.
“I found it on some paperwork in Daddy’s office. Just curious if you knew the connection between the two of them. Judging by your reaction, I would say you do. Now, I think you owe me some answers.”
“Carly, Savannah can’t know. She would die.”
“She won’t find out, Momma. Come on, let’s go to my house, so we can talk privately. I need you to tell me everything.” I say, turning my back to her, and leaving the room. Momma hesitates, then follows behind me. Savannah meets us in the hall, and I give her a hug, and thank her for dinner. Momma embraces her tight, and tells her she will be back later.
We drive to my house in silence, the only noise filling the car is Momma’s foot tapping the floor board. It’s annoying, but I know her nerves are shaken.
When we pull up the drive way, a slight whimper escapes her lips. She hasn’t been to this house in eighteen years. I can only imagine the memories or nightmares that are flooding back. I grip her hand in mine, and give it a light squeeze before shutting the engine off, and getting out of the car.
I walk inside my house, leaving the front door open for Momma. I know she’s trying to gain her strength to come inside. I hang my keys by the door, and kick off my shoes. I pad into the kitchen to get a water, but decide Momma may need some liquid courage, so I grab a bottle of Jack and two tumblers from the cabinet. When I get to the living room, Momma is standing in the door, looking around the room in shock.
“Momma, it’s ok. You can come inside. Shut the door, and I’ll start a fire.” She does as I ask, but doesn’t say a word.
Her cheeks are stained red from the silent tears she cried in the car ride here. She takes a seat on the couch, wrapping her arms tight around her waist. I sit beside of her, and sit the Jack and tumblers down on the coffee table in front of us.
“Drink?” I ask her, but she shakes her head from side to side.
“I hoped you girls would never know the kind of heartache that I know, thanks to your daddy. I loved him like something fierce, Carly. You have to believe that. But I wasn’t enough. He had just purchased the second mines and was so tired and stressed all of the time. He began to push me away, and I let him.” Momma inhales a deep breath as she tries to steady her trembling hands. “He came home late at night, drunk. He would crawl into bed, smelling of whiskey and push himself on me. He used me like I was a piece of trash. I never rejected him. I tried to keep in mind that I was his wife, and he was just tired from working hard, building his empire.” She says, waving her hands around the room.
“Until he came home smelling of perfume. It hurt so bad to know that he could lay with another woman, when he had me here at home, vying for his love and attention. I never mentioned the affair, but every Thursday night, he came home reeking of cheap Avon perfume. I wanted to leave him so badly, but my heart belonged to him.” Momma pinches her eyes shut and releases a small whimper. I slide closer to her, and wrap my hand around her unsteady hand. She is trembling uncontrollably. Anxiety creeps through my chest, but I take a deep breath and fight the urge to cry. She needs to tell her story. I asked for it, now I need to stand tall, and deal with what she needs to say.
“One night, he came in drunk, and woke me up. I heard him downstairs, bumping into the tables, knocking the lamps over, shattering picture frames to the floor. I pulled the blanket up to my neck, and pretended to sleep. He kicked the bedroom door open, and came stumbling inside. No matter how hard I fought him, he was bigger, stronger than I was. I cried, screamed, and begged for mercy, but he didn’t care. He gripped my chin tightly in his palm, and told me I was his, and he could do what he pleased. He just laughed at me as I cried out.” She stifles back the tears, shaking her head.
“After, he passed out in the bed, I locked myself in the bathroom. I sat in the tub, with the shower beaming down on me, hoping the heat and steam would wash away his filth, and the pain he inflicted on me. He was my husband, but he raped me. I said no, but he didn’t care. I can
still see the angry look in his eyes. The next morning, as I sat at the kitchen table, glaring down in shock at my coffee, he came into the kitchen and poured himself a cup, kissed my forehead and went on to work as if nothing had happened. I contemplated leaving him, but never could gain the strength to walk away. No matter how hurt I was, I loved him.”
I didn’t realize I had begun to cry, until I felt Momma reach her silky fingers to my cheeks to wipe away the tears that were flowing. She patted my leg, and continued. “A short while later, I found out I was pregnant with Savannah, and things got better for a while. He was so happy our little family had come together, which is what we both always wanted. Simon Energy continued to grow. Your daddy and I picked this house out together when I was pregnant with you, ya know. I was confident John had ended his affair, as he spent most all of his time either at the mines, or here at home with us.
“Then there was the accident. Picketing was serious business. Men wanted higher wages and better benefits. The miners had been on strike for a couple of weeks, when it happened. The story told, was that Matt Varney, a mine foreman, was called into a meeting at Simon Energy. When he crossed the picket line, he was shot down. You were about one year old when it happened. A few days after the accident, I heard him on the phone, asking about Drew, telling her he loved her. He began to scream and cuss, before slamming the receiver down. For weeks after that, he was never here. He spent all of his time at Simon Energy. There were federal investigators crawling the place day and night, trying to solve the picket line murder. You know the man that died that day, his wife was your daddy’s mistress. Her name is Emma. Her son, Drew, well I am sure you have already dug up that buried secret.” Momma stifles back the tears, as she reaches across the table to get a Kleenex to dry her face.
“So you have known all along that Drew was Daddy’s son? Is that why you left?” I ask, in a weak voice. I’m trembling, chilled to the bone from the story she is telling.
“It took me a while to figure it out, but yes, I have known for years that Drew was your daddy’s son. But that is not why I left. I left because I was terrified of the monster I was married to. I am certain that he had Matt Varney murdered, but there has never been any evidence to prove such a thing. After I pieced together the puzzle of Drew, your father and the murder, I began to hate him even more. I questioned my life entirely, and needed an escape. John and I had no relationship, we merely lived under the same roof, and were parents to the same beautiful girls.
“I began to skim money from our checking account, and eventually had a nice nest egg put aside. I went to him one night, and told him I was leaving and that I wanted a divorce. You don’t remember that night, Carly?” I shrug my shoulders, shaking my head.
“You were sitting on the steps, with your little face peeking through the banister, eaves dropping. Oh I will never forget the fear written across your face. It crushed my heart. You and Savannah watched as your daddy back handed my face, over and over. His strikes were never ending. By the time he had finished his assault, my face was black, and I couldn’t see from my right eye. I left the next morning, and never looked back. I was always so terrified of him, and what he was capable of.”
I clinch my eyes shut and try to think back, digging through the memories. Momma’s crying, begging for Daddy to let her go, and with each plea, he strikes her face again. Savannah’s si
tting behind me on the stairs, gripping my shoulders tight, crying.
I don’t know why I’ve never thought of that night, or why I never connected this incident with Momma leaving. Maybe it was the continuous lies we were fed, made to believe that she didn’t want us any longer. “Momma, if you were so terrified of Daddy, why did you leave Savannah and me here? Why didn’t you take us with you?
“Because I was just that scared of him, Carly. He promised me that if I ever tried to take his little girls away from him, that he would kill me and bury my body so deep in the back of the mines that nobody would ever find me. I knew he meant business. When he promised me that, I knew in that moment that Matt Varney’s blood was on his hands. You never crossed John Simon, you never threatened his family.” Chest wracking sobs escape her chest, as mascara runs down her face. I scoot closer to her, and wrap my arms around her neck, and cry with her.
After Momma’s tears have dried, we just talk. She tells me about how happy she is in Florida, and that Garrett is the true love of her life. I’m glad she was able to move on from the abuse and hardships she endured being married to Daddy. She deserves happiness.
It feels good to have this time with her. We laugh, and cry over the few memories we cherish together. Momma and I bond, promising that we will build new memories together, to make up for all of those that were stripped from us. When darkness falls, I take her back to Savannah’s house so she can spend the weekend with Brailee and Braden.
Thanksgiving shaped up to be much better than I expected. I wasn’t alone, eating a TV dinner; I was with family. I created memories with Savannah and Brailee, preparing dinner, and playing in turkey guts. No matter how disgusting it was, we still had lots of laughs. I reconnected with my momma, after years of being estranged. We both harbor my daddy’s dark secrets, and I’m confident that we have created a tight bond with that, regardless of how twisted it may seem. Together, we will keep his secrets to protect Savannah.
Colton
I hated not spendin’ Thanksgivin’ with Carly Jo, but I couldn’t persuade her to come to Tennessee with my family. She had already made plans with Savannah and her family. I understood. She’s buildin’ new relationships with her family, just as she is with me, and I’m sure they needed the time together. She told me she was expectin’ her momma to come home for the holiday, and even though she didn’t say anything specific, I could sense her reluctance at seein’ her again. I didn’t push, just figure she’ll talk when she is ready to open up.
I know Carly Jo has a strained relationship with Elizabeth, ‘cause she was never around when we were kids, and I can’t imagine how hard that has been on her. I’d never made it through life without my momma. She may have switched my ass hard as a kid, and she still smacks me upside the head and reminds me to keep my tongue in check, but without my momma, I wouldn’t be the man I am today.
I’ll be workin’ another long ass twelve hours today, since we’re just startin’ production up from the holiday shut down. I haven’t seen Carly Jo since Wednesday afternoon, and I’m itchin’ to get my arms around her. It’s just after four a.m., when I arrive at Simon Energy, so I know she’s still snug warm in her bed, hopefully dreamin’ of me.
I pull into the gravel parkin’ lot and throw the gear shift into park. Grabbin’ my thermos and jacket, I pop the latch on the door and climb from the cab of my truck into the crisp mornin’ air. I inhale deep as I’m met with the cold winter breeze. Shit, it’s cold! I climb the steps quickly to the main office, tryin’ to escape the bitter cold.
I reach my office, and flick on the light as I enter. I make my way around the desk, and turn on the computer, before pourin’ a cup of coffee to warm myself up with. Once the computer is active, I pull up last week’s productivity and sales reports, then print two copies. I shake my head as I read through the reports. Productivity is boomin’ as usual, but damn, if sales ain’t strugglin’. I scan over my emails quickly, before checkin’ safety reports.
I stop by Carly Jo’s office before headin’ underground and leave a copy of the reports on her desk. She usually prints the reports herself, but this will just save her the time, and let her know I was thinkin’ of her.
I hear the roarin’ rumbles of the many machines bein’ operated underground, when I reach the section the crew’s workin’ in. I speak with each man, makin’ sure their night is goin’ smooth. As I approach Eric, the roof bolter, I notice he’s a little twitchy. “Hey Eric, how’s things goin’ tonight?”
Eric looks up behind red rimmed eyes, and a ghost pale face. He looks jittery, as if I just startled him. He glares at me for a beat, before reachin’ his tremblin’ hand out for me to shake.
“Goin’ good, Boss. Right on schedule, workin’ at a smooth pace. Ain’t missed a beat, man.” Eric says, shiftin’ from foot to foot, rubbin’ his hand over his face roughly a few times. I know this reaction. I’ve seen it. Hell, I’ve lived it. He’s high.
“That’s good man. I gotta make some rounds. Catch up with me if you need anything.” I toss back at him, as I stalk away to find the Section Foreman. I locate Dave and pull him off to the side, tryin’ not to draw much attention to the situation at hand.
“Hey Boss, what’s happenin’? Ain’t seen you on nights in a long friggin’ time.”
“Not much Dave, just checkin’ in on things. Hey listen, notice anything strange goin’ on with ya pinner man?”
“Eric or Duke?
“Eric.”
“Ah, no Eric is just a little rattled at times, is all. Hard worker, real fast on the Pinner. Why? Everything good?” Dave asks with a cocked eye.
“Yeah, not so sure. I’m gonna take him to surface for a bit. He won’t be long.”
“Sure, Boss. I’ll man the Pinner while he’s out.”
“Thanks, Dave. I’ll send him back shortly.” I shake Dave’s hand then turn back to find Eric. I need to pull him from underground and get a feel of what’s goin’ on with him. Can’t tell much about his over-all appearance down here in the dark.
In my office, Eric is shakin’ like a leaf, jumpin’ at every damn sound, and rattlin’ off about every damn thing under the sun. It’s clear the man’s got an addiction to somethin’, and I can’t have the hazard around my men. But, before I do anything hasty, I’ll talk to him about his situation, to see what I can do to help.
“Eric, what’cha on man?”
“Boss, I ain’t on nothin’.” Eric says tappin’ the desk.
“Nothin’ huh?”
“Not a damn thing.” He shakes his head from side to side.
“Now Eric, you’re seriously sittin’ there tellin’ me that if I piss your ass right now, it’ll come back clean?”
“Boss, you ain’t gotta piss me. Trust me. I’m good. Just ain’t been sleepin’ much, and it’s got my nerves all rattled up.”
Eric’s voice is even shaky now, his eyes dartin’ from one thing to the next quickly. I brush my fingers back through my hair, and think of my options. I’ve been on the other side of the fence. I’ve been the addict, dyin’ for my next fix. I’ve got two choices, and neither one’s easy. I can piss Eric now, and most likely fire his ass, leavin’ me in a spot for a new roof bolter. Or I can give him the same chance Big John gave me. Either way it goes, I’m screwin’ myself over.
“Eric, I’m gonna take your word for it for now. But I’d better not suspect you of bein’ high at work again. If I do, I won’t even consider pissin’ ya. I’ll fire your ass on the spot, then I’ll beat the damn brakes off ya for puttin’ my men in danger. So, you can man up, and get off the shit that’s gotcha strung out, or you take a hand at fate. Your call. Are ya good to finish out the night?”
“Boss, I’m good, just need some sleep, that’s all. I’ll be good as new when I come back tonight. You have my word.” I shake his clammy hand, and give him a little extra warnin’ just for good measure. We take the man trip back underground, together. Eric’s settled down a little by now, but still a little on the jittery side. Once we reach the crew, Eric returns to the Pinner, sendin’ a suspicious Dave back in my direction.
“Boss, everything alright with Eric?”
“Everything’s good. Just keep an eye out for anything that don’t look right with anyone. Big Boss will kick all of our asses if we screw anything up, slow down production, or more importantly, cause any safety issues. Gotta keep that shit in check. Ya feel me?”
Dave rubs his hand across his scruffy chin, and nods in agreement, before stalkin’ off to his crew. Stuffin’ my hands down in my pockets, I shake my head because something ain’t right, with this entire situation. I know that Eric’s battlin’ addiction, but how is it none of his other crew members have noticed anything out of sorts?
I watch the crew work for the last hour of their shift, then ride back to surface with them. By the time we reach the portal of the mines, Eric’s eyes are blood shot, and you can’t make heads or tails of what he’s actually sayin’. He keeps rubbin’ his face, and sniffin’.
I wait for the men to finish up in the bath house, before pullin’ Eric aside one last time, and give him a final stern warnin’ about whatever the hell is up with him. He promises he’s just lackin’ sleep, so I drop it at that, and send him home so he can catch up on his rest.
Makin’ my way up through the gravel lot to the main office, I see that Carly Jo’s cherry red Camaro is parked in the front spot by the buildin’. It may have been one hell of a rough start to the day, but knowin’ she’s here, just spreads a wide smirk across my face. I climb the stairs two at a time to get to her office.
Walkin’ straight passed Shelly, I don’t even knock on Carly Jo’s office door before enterin’. She’s sittin’ at her desk, with her back turned from the door, lookin’ in a filin’ cabinet. Hearin’ the door click closed, she swivels the chair, and her hazel eyes flicker up to meet mine. She has the phone pressed to her ear, and pulls her index finger to her lips, willin’ me not to interrupt her conversation. I nod, and sit down at the chair in front of her desk, and wait for her to finish the phone conversation. She mumbles in agreement to the caller, then sighs before speakin’.
“Bill, I can’t find the contract. I know that Daddy had James keep copies of his contracts as well. I’ll call right now and get a copy emailed over to me, then I’ll forward it to you. Yeah. No, just calm down, and I’ll handle it. I’ll call ya once I have a copy of the contract. Okay, thanks.” Carly Jo hangs the phone up, then pinches the bridge of her nose before stalkin’ to the counter to fill her coffee cup. She turns back to the desk, and places a cup of coffee on the desk in front of me.
“Mornin’, Colton. Noticed you were in a little early this mornin’. Everything okay?”
“Mornin’, darlin’,” I reply with a wink and a smooth smirk. “Yeah, everything is fine. Just like to have a look in on the night crew from time to time. What was that about?” I ask, noddin’ toward the phone.
“How was Thanksgiving in the Smokies?”
“Great, stop avoidin’ my question. What was that about?”
“Just random company shit. How’s Heidi Jo?”
“She’s fine. Why are you bein’ so damn evasive?” I know she’s hidin’ somethin’. What would she be doin’ on the phone with my old man, talkin’ ‘bout company contracts?
“What makes you think I’m being evasive? I don’t have to tell you every damn dilemma that the company faces.” Carly Jo scoffs.
“You know that if we’re walkin’ into a shit storm, you need to give me a heads up, right?” I ask, as concerned as I possibly can sound. Her eyes turn cold as she shoots daggers the short distance across the desk at me.
“Colton, don’t sit there with your damn sexy ass smirk and friggin’ condescendin’ tone. That has nothing to do with you. I’ve got it all under control. If I need to inform you any damn thing, I will.”
“Fine, just don’t want you takin’ all of this on, all on your own. It can be overwhelmin’. That’s all.” I reply, swirlin’ my finger in the air.
“And what the hell is ‘this’, Colton?” She replies, mimickin’ me with her finger twirlin’ in the air.
“Whatever the hell you’re hidin! I’m your Superintendent. You ain’t been on the damn job for more than three damn months. All I’m sayin’ is think about things before you try to be a damn hero.”
“Be the hero for what exactly? I’m Carly Jo Simon, the damn CEO of this frickin’ company, and I’ll be damned if I will let anyone threaten that. I’m workin’ my ass off to run this damn empire as smoothly as Daddy did. If you don’t like the way I run things, friggin’ hit the bricks.” She shouts, her face flame red with heat.
“Whoa. Back it up. What are you talkin’ about? I come in here to see you, because I missed you. I haven’t seen you since Wednesday, and if you’ll remember correctly, we’re supposed to be workin’ on us.” I exhale a deep frustrated growl, and her eyes twist into slits. “Whatever I walked into has you more than stressed, it has you friggin’ terrified. I can’t help ya darlin’ unless you stop the bitchin’, and once again, let me the hell in.” My growl is fiercer than I intend, but seein’ Carly Jo obviously addled by somethin’, pisses me the hell off. I hate to raise my voice to her, but she needs to reel it the hell in, and calm her sweet ass down.
She looks up at me with wide fearful eyes, as she chews on the bottom of her lip. A clear sign that she’s upset with somethin’ more than our small argument. Moments pass, and not a word is exchange. I crack my knuckles against the palms of my hands, then stand up to leave. I turn
toward the door, and just as I grab the handle, she speaks up. I hesitate, and listen to her whispery words. “Sales. They’re bad, and thanks to Drew Varney, they may possibly get worse.”