Page 3 of The Next Mrs. Parrish

I end the call and turn to my mother.

“What in the world was that all about?”

“Tallulah took a train to Connecticut,” I say, and as I fill her in on the details, her face turns white.

“What was she thinking? She could have been kidnapped! She’s out of control, Daphne.”

As if I don’t know that. At first, both Tallulah and Bella seemed to be thriving. They assimilated into their new school seamlessly, made new friends, threw themselves into activities. At home Tallulah’s book of the moment was never far from her, but she’d becomea bit more outgoing. Bella seemed to reflect the California sun, with her bubbly personality and dazzling blond curls. In some ways she reminded me of Jackson—the good parts, her eyes the same blue as his and her take-charge personality rather unlike mine. Things were changing, however. They missed their father. And even though he was never violent or physically hurt them, I knew his psychological reign of terror would intensify and cripple them if he were in their lives. Bella struggled with reading, which embarrassed and infuriated him; in turn he would berate her when she stumbled over words. I can still hear him calling her stupid or ugly in those moments; I only hope her improved ability and newfound love of reading have blunted those memories. It still fills me with shame when I think of his cruel treatment. With Tallulah, he was kinder, more patient, and the two bonded over their shared love of literature. She was a daddy’s girl from the start and despite her witnessing Jackson’s darker moments, she seems to have banished them from her mind and remembers only the happy times.

“She told me before she left that she hates me for keeping her from Jackson. She doesn’t understand that I’m only trying to protect her and Bella. I never imagined she’d do something like this,” I say.

My mother purses her lips. “She’s thirteen. Old enough to understand. You can’t keep the truth from her forever. He tried to ruin our relationship, lying to me all those years and telling me you didn’t want me to visit. He kept you a prisoner and isolated you from everyone. He’s dangerous. The girls need to know…”

I put a hand up. I can’t listen to another tirade about Jackson. Anytime one of the girls brings him up, she’s ready to boil over and speak unkindly about him until I stop her with a look. She doesn’t seem to get that her constant chatter about how awful he is only makes it harder to put the past behind me. “Not yet. If I tell Tallulah the things he did to me, how he essentially held me hostage all those years, I’ll wipe out every good memory she has of us as a family. She’s already depressed. That’s not going to help her. AndBella is only eleven. If I tell Tallulah everything, she’ll tell her sister.” When we left Connecticut, all I could think about was getting away from Jackson and starting over. Getting him to terminate his parental rights gave me the illusion that we were all free. I should have realized that no court document could sever the ties that bind him to our children.

She throws her hands up. “Well, you’ve got to do something. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

—

Last night didn’t go well. Tallulah wouldn’t even look at me when I picked her up and despite my best efforts at getting her to talk, she crossed her arms and kept her lips tightly sealed. Only when I threatened to take her phone away did she admit that Jackson had no idea of her plan. I haven’t spoken to Jackson since I left Bishops Harbor. This morning Tallulah wouldn’t go to school and told me that if I didn’t let her see her father, she’d run away and I’d never find her. I intend to verify that she’s telling the truth, but I need to speak with my therapist before I open up the can of worms that will be getting in touch with Jackson.

I arrive at Dr. Marshall’s office ten minutes early for our session and take a seat in the waiting room. I scroll through my phone distractedly, then grab aPeoplemagazine from the table and flip through it. Sighing, I put it back down and stand, pacing. Finally, the door to her office opens and she calls mein.

“How are things today, Daphne?” The petite older woman wrinkles her brow with concern as I take a seat. The three of us have been seeing her since we first moved to California.

I shake my head. “Not good. Tallulah still isn’t speaking to me, except to refuse to go to school and to threaten to leave again. I don’t know what to do.”

She sighs. “You know that normally I’d never suggest you regain contact with your abuser. But this is a complicated situation. This could have ended very badly. Did Jackson have any idea of her plan?”

I shake my head. “She says no. I know I need to call him, but I dread it.”

“This is obviously a very serious situation. You’re very lucky that nothing happened to her, but as we discussed, Tallulah’s depression is getting worse. Are you absolutely sure you’re unwilling to tell her the truth about their father? What he did?”

My impatience surges; we’ve been over this many times before. Won’t anyone let this rest? “I tried to tell the girls, to explain why I stayed all those years. Not everything, of course. I softened things, didn’t tell them that he made me out to be crazy by having me committed. But the girls didn’t take it well. It was obvious to me they didn’t want to hear it. Despite how Jackson treated me, he was a good father to them. Most of the time, anyway.”

I don’t tell her about the way he mercilessly pushed Bella when she struggled to read, or how he refused to consider that she had a learning disability. “I’m not sure they could bear hearing the full truth. They might not even believe it. It could damage my relationship with them. I can’t let that happen.”

She gives me a look I can’t interpret, purses her lips, and finally speaks. “I understand, but in that case, you need to get in touch with Jackson and tell him what’s going on. Things have escalated. Tallulah has become reckless. What if she decides to hitchhike across the country? You can’t risk her running away. Maybe he can arrange to come and visit, supervised of course, and we can all meet together to try to figure out a way for him to be in their lives in a safe way.”

Safeis not a word I would ever associate with Jackson. I don’t want him here, contaminating our lives. I can’t abide the thought of him in my house, seeing where we live, knowing the intimate details of our lives.

“I’m not even sure if he’s been released from prison yet. Plus, I don’t know if he can leave the state.”

“Why did Tallulah try to go see him if he’s still in prison?”

I blow out a breath. “I never told her he was in prison.”

“Well, what if you took the girls there?”

My stomach tightens.There.The place I fought so hard to escape.

“I can’t go back.”

“Well, if Jackson can’t come here, I don’t see any other options. Are you willing to risk her running off again? Or even hurting herself?”

“No, of course not. Do you think she’d actually…” I can’t complete the sentence, I’m so horrified by the thought. “There must be another way.” Alarm twists my stomach.

She cocks her head, her face full of understanding. “I don’t see how if Jackson can’t come here.”

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