“What about Mom?” I ask. “Can she join us?”
“She has to go on a little trip.”
“For how long?”
“I’m not sure. You and I will go to the cabin. Would you like that?”
“Yes!”
I loved my father then. I didn’t realize the horrors he caused.
My mom’s trip? She probably had been in the hospital. I don’t know for certain that he abused her, but there were times when she would wear turtlenecks when it wasn’t winter. She wore red more than any other color, and red had always been my father’s favorite.
The color of strength, he always said.
The color of passion. My father had plenty of passion, if you could call a fiery temper passion.
The color of blood.
Like the blood he spilled.
My father and I did go to the cabin. He didn’t bring his phone with him. No computer either. We had one butler there to handle our food, and that was it.
Everything had been wonderful.
Except for my worry about the conversation I overheard.
I’ll never forget our conversation on the drive back from the cabin trip.
“Father, you love me, don’t you?”
“What kind of a question is that?”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
“And you love my mom?”
“Why are you asking me this?” he counters.
“Why aren’t you answering my questions?”
“Yes.”
It was the first time I’m certain my father lied to me, only it wasn’t entirely a lie. My father did love my mom. Her favorite color was yellow, and she wore that if she wasn’t wearing his red. My father hated yellow.
It was like she was all sunlight and goodness.
He was all blood and darkness.
They must’ve been some kind of an opposites attract type deal. Or maybe my mom tried to get him to turn away from the darkness. She always had a way about her, trying to fix people.
One time, she realized that a maid and our cook both liked each other. She tried to get them together. The cook got the maid pregnant.
My father had been furious when he found out. Not about my mom getting them together. About the maid being pregnant by another member of his staff when they weren’t married.
“What kind of an example are you setting for my daughter? If you’re going to shove your cock into her or any other woman, glove up at first! If you don’t want to wear a condom, then marry her!”