Lucy has always had a soft spot for Jack. As they grow up together, their relationship turns into something more, but when tragedy strikes, Jack is whisked away never to be heard from again.
Several years pass. The boys in high school don't interest Lucy, and she continues to think about Jack. Where did he go? What does he look like? Does he think of her? When she finds out where Jack might be located, halfway across the county in Indiana, Lucy drives to meet him, not knowing what she'll find, if he'll recognize her, if he'll turn her away, or if he'll even be there.
There was a look she got when she lost control of her actions. I’ve
seen it many times, that angry look. It began with her eyes. It started
with her inability to look you in your face, for fear that her emotions
would become known to you and to the others. The feelings of hatred,
disappointment, and frustration shoved deep down inside her, yet visible
all over her expression in that awkward, frowned appearance that made
her look ugly all over.
Then there was the voice.
The changes to her voice that clearly indicated and warned you that
something bad was about to happen. It started with a little ranting. The
underlying mumbling you heard, that this was all your fault. If it
weren’t for you, life would have been perfect. You’re the reason why
she acted this way. You did this.
And then it began. The screaming. The high-pitched release of sound and
dissatisfaction that exploded out of her mouth, rendering her victims
shocked and confused. Everything she’d bottled up vomiting in your
presence. The violent attack of words and actions that left you battered
and assaulted physically, shaken and disoriented mentally, as to how
could I make this better. How could I fix this?
Then there were the faces.
The horrified look of terror and fear on all the little people’s
faces, haunting you. The children who had been unwillingly sucked out of
their warm, comfortable beds to witness the breakdown of their loved
one, left horrified and crushed, tears streaking down their cheeks. The
heartbreaking sense that one person was sucking the innocent souls right
out of the room, forever changing them.
Then coffee and donuts. Laughter ensued and everything was right again.
Things appeared normal and life began to move. You forgave and continued
on. But you never forgot. The ugliness was bound to rear its head once
again, and you silently waited for it and watched for the signs.
That was my mother.
Despite her faults and her uneasy ways, the world was a far better place
with her in it. As all young children think, I thought she would be mine
forever. I never thought anything bad would ever happen to my mother.
I was wrong.
Excerpted from "The Right Family (The Right Family Series Book 1)" by Susan B. Roara. Copyright © 2015 by Susan B. Roara. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Susan B. Roara
With great gratitude, I wish to thank you for your time and interest. I am a mother of four young children and live in a small town in Connecticut. I consider myself an intuitive writer and believe that everyone has their purpose in life. Mine was to write and raise children. I love who I am and I love what I do.
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