“They just don't have matzoh ball soup like this in California,” he said, and she grinned, and looked more like herself. It was comforting just being with him.
They went for a long walk afterward, and wandered into Central Park. The trees were still bare, and the park looked gray, but the air and the exercise did them both good. It was midafternoon before they went back to her house, and she made him a cup of hot chocolate while he started another fire, and wondered if she was going to keep the house. He didn't want to upset her by asking her. It was a nice place, but he thought it would do her good to move on. But it was too soon to say it to her.
“What were you looking so serious about?” Faith asked as she handed him the steaming cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows on it. It had been one of their favorite things when they were kids.
“I was thinking about you,” he said honestly, “and what an amazing woman you are. A lot of women would have handled this whole thing differently, and told their kids what he did. You're always so fair to everyone. Pathologically decent and kind. That's a nice thing to be.” But they both knew it came at a high price to her.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling quietly at him. Her brother had been that way too. They were instinctively good people, and had always been. But they had been through a lot too, before their father died, and even afterward. There were things about both of them Brad had never known. He had always admired them for their kindness to people, and their tolerance, and honesty, as well as for the bond they shared. When other kids lied, Jack had always told the truth. And the one time Jack knew that Faith had lied to him, he had given her hell. She had been about ten years old, and Brad still remembered the big tears rolling down her cheeks when Jack had scolded her. She didn't look much different than that now, and it had been the vision he had had of her for the past week. Thinking of her that way, in tears, was what had brought him to New York to see her. He couldn't stand knowing how unhappy she was, and not at least doing something to help. And it meant the world to her just to see him and talk to him. She respected everything he thought and said. And she trusted him as much as she had Jack.
“How are you feeling, Fred?” he asked with a look of concern as he lay sprawled on the carpet in front of the fire. He looked very much as he had as a boy, with the same cleft in his chin, and endless legs. And his hair was nearly as dark as it had been then. Even sitting close to him, Faith could hardly see any gray.
“Better, thanks to you.” It made him doubly glad he had come. She looked better than she had that morning when she opened the door. Happier, and more at peace. “Not quite as weird. It's going to take time to get used to this. It's going to seem so strange not being married to him.” She had been married to Alex since she was twenty-one. It seemed like an entire lifetime to her.
“You may get to like it eventually. How are you holding up at school?” He had been worried about that at first.
“Not great. But I haven't flunked out yet. I think it'll be okay.” She was going to apply to law school soon.
“Don't you have to go to work?” she asked, worried about him. It was nearly four o'clock, and he didn't seem in a hurry to go anywhere. He was relaxed and content, lying close to her.
“Yeah, soon,” he said, without glancing at his watch. He was getting sleepy from the hot chocolate and the warmth of the fire, and the sense of well-being he had with her. “Life is strange, isn't it? We grew up with each other, and we had every opportunity to fall in love, and never did. Instead, I married Pam, whom I have absolutely nothing in common with, and you married Alex, and he treats you like dirt. It would have been so much simpler if we'd taken a good look at each other and fallen in love way back then. Nothing is ever simple, is it, Fred?” He was looking into the fire as he said it, and then looked up at her with a sleepy smile. But there was something deep and sad in Faith's eyes. There was so much he didn't know, especially about what had set the stage for Alex to treat her as he had.
“It never works that way,” Faith said with a sigh. “We all have to go find other people and complicate things. We marry complicated people, and then we think we've done it right. If you marry someone in your own backyard, you feel like you've failed somehow. Too easy, I guess. And there was more to it than that for me.” She wondered if Jack had ever said anything to him about their father, but suspected he had not. It had been their secret shame for their entire childhood and a significant part of their adult lives.
She had never told anyone else about her father molesting her, and threatening her about it. She had never felt able to tell Alex, and had always been afraid he would hold it against her somehow. She had discussed it with her therapist at length years before, and with Jack, and her conclusion had always been that Alex wasn't up to it. His own childhood had been cold and unemotional, but relatively normal otherwise, and circumspect. She didn't think he could have understood her father doing something like that, without blaming her for it, which would have broken her heart. But she felt differently about Brad. She knew she could tell him anything. What he had offered her, and always given her, was his unconditional love.
“Complicated is never the right thing,” Brad said simply, as he watched her. He could see something painful come into her eyes. “Are you okay, Fred?”
“Yeah. I was just thinking about some old stuff. Ugly old stuff actually. But I think it's always been a big part of my life with Alex, in an unspoken way. I think it's why I let him call the shots and be so hard on me at times. I suspect I always thought I deserved whatever he dished out to me.” Her eyes were speaking volumes to Brad, and he held her hand tight, as though sensing that she was facing old demons with him, and within herself.
“Why is that?” he asked softly, as she lowered her eyes, and then looked up at him again. It was harder to say the words than she had thought it would be, even to him.
“There was some pretty bad stuff that happened when I was a kid. Jack knew about it… not at first, but he found out eventually. It was hard for him too.” Before she even said the words, Brad suspected it, and tightened his grip on her hand. He didn't know how or why he knew, but he did. And she could sense his acceptance even before she spoke to him.
She took a breath finally, and dove in. She wasn't sure why, but she wanted to share it with him. Faith wasn't even aware of the tears rolling down her cheeks, as Brad's heart nearly ripped out of his chest as he watched helplessly. He was just as helpless as Jack had been. Jack couldn't stop it at the time. And Brad couldn't take the memory away from her now. All he could do was be there for her, and as always, he was.
“My father molested me when I was a little girl,” she said barely audibly. There was no sound from Brad as he waited for her to go on. “He started when I was about four or five, and did it until he died, when I was ten. I was too scared to tell anyone, because he told me he'd kill me and Jack if I did. So I never told. I tried to tell my mother years later, when we were adults, and she never believed me. Jack found out the year before Dad died, and he threatened him too, if he told. I think it was part of the bond between us. Jack was the only one who ever knew. But I always felt guilty about it, as though it were my fault and not his … as though it made me less than everyone else … or worse … it was hard to forgive myself for it,” she said in an agonized voice, “but finally I did. I think, without even knowing it, that was Alex's hold over me. I felt he had the right to treat me badly or be critical or unkind … I didn't think I deserved better than that. I played right into his hands.” She had looked down for a moment as she explained it to Brad, and when she looked up, she could see that he was crying too. He said not a word to her at first, but pulled her into his arms, and held her tight. Everything he didn't say was in his powerful grip on her. It was a long moment before he could find words for her.
“I'm so sorry, Fred … I'm so sorry … what a rotten thing to carry around with you all those years. I don't know why, but I just suddenly knew before you said anything. I'm so sorry that happened to you. It doesn't make you less … it makes you more … a million times more. What a sick, cruel thing to do to a little girl. Thank God he died.”
“I used to think that too, and then I felt guilty for that. It happens to a lot of kids, I guess. It's a lonely, scary place to be.”
It had impacted her entire life, affected whom she chose to marry, and how she dealt with him and let him treat her for all those years. But Brad's reaction was exactly the one she would have hoped for when she was finally brave enough to speak up. Brad never let her down, unlike Alex, who never failed to disappoint her at every turn and had for so long. Somehow telling Brad and feeling his arms around her vindicated her. She had finally told someone, and he accepted her in spite of it. She was free at last from the chains that had bound her for most of her life. It was an incredible gift he had given her, and they sat there in silence for a long time, as he held her. He was the friend and brother she had always loved, and knew he was, and when she pulled away from him at last, he smiled at her.
“I love you, Fred … I truly, truly love you … what an incredibly wonderful human being you are. And what a goddamn shame you married that asshole instead of me. I really blew that one, kid.” But everything he had said to her that day had been right for her. Telling him had been one of the best things she'd ever done. It was like holding up a mirror, and seeing herself in his eyes. What she saw was the good person who was not to blame for any of it. Not a victim either, or a bad little girl. It was a proud woman who had survived, and deserved love and good things to happen to her. It was exactly the key she needed to unlock the last door to freedom. He had freed her, and she had freed herself. Finally.
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