Blinded by Color

Chapter 26 Kayla

It is Saturday morning, and finally, I am moving out of this house. I can't believe I am taking this giant step toward adulthood. I have everything packed up and ready to go when the movers get here. I am thrilled to finally be leaving all this drama. It's weird how now that I am moving out, I am looking at this house differently than before. I see it now for all of its hate and hard times. There is no love in these rooms or walls. There are no happy memories of sitting at the table having a holiday dinner. No swing set rotting in the backyard from the excessive heat that contains happy times of children playing together. This is not a home. It is a vault of terrible nightmares, and I wish I could burn it down. As I walked into the kitchen to make something to eat, I saw my mother sitting on the couch. The ugly floral print furniture that has never been replaced. She looked thinner than normal, and of course, she was smoking a cigarette. She turned to look at me, and I asked her if she was hungry. I wasn't sure if she was drunk or hungover, but either way, I didn't care because I was moving out and moving on. I was no longer her muse.

"No, I am not hungry." I wasn't surprised by her response because she barely ate. I got myself some cereal and sat down adjacent to her on the chair with the matching hideous floral print. "Kay, I need to talk to you." I was worried when I heard these words. The last thing I wanted was for her to beg me to stay. Please don't beg me to stay. I was staring at her so hard I could feel my eyes bulging, begging her not to say those words. Let me go, I said over and over in my head, just let me go, Mom, please. "This is going to be hard to say, and I want you to know I am sorry for the pain this will cause you." Pain? Does she know how badly my pain really is? What does she know about pain? I was getting irritated fast. I already found out my father had an affair with a black woman, and I have a half-sister who is a successful doctor and lives in Chicago. She had a wonderful upbringing while I sat here and took care of my alcoholic for a mother. Sure, Mom, lay it on me; what other pain can you cause? It's like adding salt to a wound, and she is a pro at this. "This story is going to make you look at people differently, and I am ready to face that. I know I haven't been an exceptionally good mother, but maybe you will finally understand why." She lit up another cigarette and began to cry. I was literally rolling my eyes. I can't wait to hear her excuse for why she was a bad mom. We have been down this road so many times I can recite it like it's my job.

"I'm listening, Mom." I tried not to let the frustration in my voice come through, but it did anyway. My tone was all but polite. Here we go. I put my cereal down next to me on the end table and sat back in the chair. I pulled my legs up to my chest and pulled my big t-shirt over my legs, placing my chin on my knees. I waited patiently while she inhaled and exhaled on her smoke.

"When your father and I first got married, we lived in Tampa, as you know. We had a great life. Tony was remarkably successful at the bank, and his career was taking off. He started traveling quite a lot, and that's when he got Seven pregnant. She worked for a bank, and they met up at a convention, or so that's what your father told me. I didn't find out right away. I had already given birth to you and your brother by the time I found out. The girl, Tiffany, she was older than you. I only figured out something was going on because he started spending a lot of time in Chicago. He was no longer wanting to travel for work to other places even if it paid more. At one point, he was offered a promotion and turned it down because there would be no more trips to Chicago. I couldn't understand it, so I figured he must be cheating and started digging. Of course, I asked your uncle Rodney to assist because he is a cop after all, and I knew he was a good detective. He wasn't the sheriff at the time, but as a seasoned office who was now a detective, he was my best chance at solving this puzzle. I found receipts for ice cream, I found recital tickets, I found the name Seven in his cellphone. This was the name and number he always used while in Chicago. I figured it out, and when I finally came to him with all the facts, he no longer denied it. He told me everything. He told me how he slept with Seven early on in our marriage and how she became pregnant. He told me that he needed to be there for his daughter and take responsibility. He told me he wanted to tell me sooner, but he knew I hated black people and was a racist bitch. He actually called me that, Kayla. Like I did something wrong when he was the one who cheated. He had the audacity to act as if my understanding of how disgusting niggers were was a fake reality. I couldn't even fathom that he came home and slept with me after sleeping with this black whore. I felt dirty! I felt like I could never get clean after that. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I never thought Tony would do this to me, never. I could have forgiven him for sleeping around, but with a black woman, Kayla, that was unforgivable. He had hidden his affair and this love child for years. Anyways, one night, I was hurting so bad I left the house and told Rodney everything. Your uncle Rodney and I decided right then and there your dad needed to pay for what he had done to me and you kids. The weekend was approaching, and Rodney told me we should go to dinner and he would take care of the rest. I would have an alibi, and he could cover the tracks. I was over your father at that point. I didn't love him anymore, and I wanted him dead. I hated him. He betrayed me. Rodney was a detective; he knew how to cover his tracks and make the crime scene look like a murder with no evidence. That night, I got ready and pretended to like your father while we went out, and then I let Rodney and Uncle Ben have their way with him. His murder was not solved because Rodney was the lead detective, and he knew he did it. I never told anyone. I've been carrying around this guilt for the last almost fourteen years. I turned to alcohol to deal with all the details of the murder. I got shitfaced drunk every night to cope with this life I had been dealt. I was now a single mom with two kids to raise, and I was responsible for their father's death. There were so many people asking questions and giving condolences. The thing is, I hated your father, but when he was gone, and I was left to take care of everything, it broke me. The stupid bitch Seven got money from his death, not just me. It took all I had not to kill her too. I was pissed. I thought when he was gone, I would have enough money to live a good life. Unfortunately, he had added his daughter to his benefits and life insurance. Kayla, please try to understand. I had to do what I had to do. Your father deserved it."