The Secret Dance

By Lydia Grace Tobin

It is New Year's Day; a time for celebration and making changes. Lydia's teenage daughters just confided the most shocking information that she NEVER expected to hear. How can she protect her two teenage daughters and keep the five younger girls safe? What will be the consequences of her actions? What is this adoptive mother to do?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716286896

Book preview

The Secret Dance

The Secret Dance

Lydia Grace Tobin

Copyright © 2010 by Lydia Grace Tobin

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2020

ISBN 978-1-716-28689-6

Lydia Grace Tobin

Post Office Box 90134

Youngstown, OH 44509

[e-mail]

This book is dedicated to my oldest daughters.

Thank you for being courageous.

Know that I love you.

Always!

Forward

Two months before this story began, I visited a therapist because my husband insisted I was the problem in our marriage.  During the first session Abby said, I will help you strengthen your marriage or support you through a divorce. After the initial events of my story unfolded, she wisely encouraged me to keep a journal to document the events in my life.  The journaling process eventually compelled me to accept reality and move ahead with my life. 

The facts in this story are memories of my experiences during this horrific time.  The name of each individual involved has been changed.  Some of the memories have been modified to protect the identities of my family, friends, and even the adversaries.  The events shared in this story did occur and have splintered my family—forever. 

After sharing the original manuscript with trusted friends, they urged me to share my story for those who face similar circumstances.  I have waited almost ten years to publish this story due to fear of retribution from my former in-laws—not fear for myself, but concern for the possible bad effects towards my daughters.  During the past two years, many of the vindictive co-conspirators have departed to eternity.  It is finally time to share my story.

As I share my unexpected and difficult ride

Maybe somehow my heartache will guide

Or encourage another to find her way

To pursue the hope of a new day

Preface

Brendan and I had been married almost fifteen years.  During the years there had been many good times as well as several thorny experiences.  Our marriage had strengthened through my leukemia diagnosis and transplant process, his diabetes issues, the unexpected deaths of both our fathers, and the adoption process of our daughters.  Currently, we were going through a bit of a challenging stretch, but I naively believed our marriage could survive almost anything...

New Year’s Day ~ 7:00 p.m.

A cold shiver enveloped my body, as Brendan’s cursing began to crescendo into an angered frenzy.  Then the front door slammed and my husband stomped through the house.  Thankfully, I was in the kitchen, out of his direct path.  I held my breath until the door to his den slammed.  An eerie silence permeated the house.  Everyone in our family knew these events meant to be quiet and stay out of sight.  My next objective was to ascertain what set him off and begin damage control.

Brendan had embarrassed both Karissa and Nakita during dinner.  This was typical of my husband and teenage daughters as their relationship had become a complicated puzzle.  During the past year, I gradually began to feel like a stranger trespassing into their private world.  Whenever I mentioned my concern, Brendan insisted girls were always closer to their father at this stage of life.  True or not, it was necessary to figure out what upset Brendan if this day was to end with any sort of peace.

Karissa had been unusually moody and argumentative during the holiday season.  She was probably the key to this current drama.  As expected, I found her sitting on the front porch banister, glaring at the sky.  She did not turn to look at me, when I approached her, but simply said, Mom, there is something I need to tell you, but not just yet.  Give me a some more time to think about it. 

This was a normal response for my clever fifteen-year-old daughter.  Realizing she needed her space, I replied, I have a taste for fudge.  If you want to help, I’ll be in the kitchen.  Karissa always shared her dreams while we prepared her favorite dessert.

Nakita walked into the kitchen just as the fudge began to boil gently.  She slipped her arm around my waist and whispered, Mom, we need to talk to you.  I lowered the flame under the fudge and followed my oldest daughter outside.

Three lawn chairs had been set up in the shape of a triangle in the center of our driveway.  Karissa sat facing away from the house.  Nakita sat on the edge of the chair beside Karissa.  I sat in the chair facing them and waited.  Karissa looked anxiously at Nakita and then stared into my eyes before speaking uncertainly, Mom, you always say we can tell you anything, no matter what it is and you promise to never hate us.  Right? 

I immediately discerned this was going to be an extremely complex conversation but quickly replied, Yes, you can tell me anything.  I will always love you and do my best to help you.  Silently, I hoped Karissa was not preparing me for the one scenario that might complicate my already crazy world: a teenage pregnancy.

Karissa sighed deeply as she glanced down at her tightly clenched hands.  Finally, in a barely audible whisper she said, Dad has been touching me.

Karissa’s unexpected words shocked me.  Immediately, the sensation of suffocating overwhelmed my body until I realized I was holding my breath.  Gradually, I became aware of both girls squeezing my hands as they waited for my reaction.  Nakita sucked in a deep breath in an obvious attempt to control her emotions.  A bolt of lightning seemed to flash through my body as I realized this conversation was going to obliterate my world.  Searching my memory for something to say, her words echoed through my mind, Dad has been touching me.  Finally, she continued. 

Dad has been touching me for a long time.  She held her breath and waited as she carefully considered the words she was about to speak.  Slowly she spoke, You know, down there.  Karissa began to sob, but her next words were fervently stated,  Mom, you have to make him stop hurting me.

Suddenly thoughts began to explode in my mind like a Fourth of July fireworks display.  This could not be happening, NOT my daughter!  Yes, Brendan and I had some problems, but we always put the children first.  How could I stop this?  Nakita began to squeeze my hand harder.  This sensation pulled me back to the reality I was not prepared to face.

Quickly, but in a faltering voice Nakita said, Mom, dad has done the same stuff to me.  It started before we were adopted.  Dad told me it was our special secret and I could never tell anyone.  Karissa and I talked about what dad said at dinner and I figured out what he was doing to both of us. 

Nakita stopped speaking and flashed her I have everything under control look at me before stating confidently, Don’t worry about me, mom.  I can handle it.  They both glanced at me with fear in their eyes.  Time seemed to stop as I waited for them to continue.  I realized the girls were preparing me for something they thought I was not going to be able to handle. 

Finally, Karissa nodded and Nakita said, I never knew dad was doing this stuff to Karissa.  She did not know about me.  It was always a big secret.  Mom, now we think dad is doing the same thing to Olivia.  We can handle what dad did to us, but we don’t want him to hurt Olivia! 

In unison, my teenage daughters cried, Mom, you have to stop him!

I held my breath until I felt my head begin to spin.  Next, my heart began beating so fast that I wondered if I was having a heart attack.  Somehow, during those horrible moments, I knew without any doubt that my daughters told the truth. 

I hated my husband at that moment.  Yes, I would stop it!  Brendan had no right to touch my daughters that way!  The world as Brendan Fox knew it had just ended!  How was I going to deal with this?  What were we supposed to do now? 

I realized the girls expected me to say something but could not seem to form intelligible thoughts.  They needed me to be strong for them, but I was weak.  How could I comfort them?  How was I supposed to guide them?  My mind searched for words to console them, but all I could think was, Why did Brendan do this to the girls? 

Finally, I blurted out the only relevant thought that came to me,  Do you think you can ever trust dad again?  Both girls responded, Never! and began to weep.

Just then, lights flashed in the drive.  Aunt Olive had arrived to visit her favorite nephew.  The girls rushed into the house as I waited to greet our visitor.  Your daughters ran into the house when I drove up.  Did I interrupt something? she asked curiously. 

Surprisingly, an appropriate response quickly formed in my mind, Kimberly spent the weekend and now they want to go to her house.  Aunt Olive smiled knowingly and went inside the house.  Frozen in my chair, this unexpected, dreadful conversation echoed through my mind. 

Aunt Olive quickly returned.  I didn’t want to interrupt the girls and their planning.  Does Brendan have one of his headaches?  He was sitting in the dark, so I did not disturb him. 

I quickly agreed, Yes, he has a headache.  I was still absorbing the girl’s shocking declaration, Mom you have to stop him, and did not want to talk to Aunt Olive.  Gratefully she did not ask any more questions. 

As she walked to her vehicle, Aunt Olive reprimanded me, You need to insist that Brendan find out why he gets those headaches!  It is your job to take care of him.  I will check on him later in the week.  And don’t let that fudge simmer too long. 

The fudge completely slipped my mind.  I forced myself to go into our home and finish the fudge.  Angry with Brendan, I furiously stirred the fudge.  He violated our children!  He destroyed their innocence of life.  He betrayed our sacred trust!  Should I confront him?  Should I leave him?  What should I do next?  How could I protect my teenagers and keep the younger girls safe?  Then I prayed, God, please help me!   

Suddenly the realization that I did not want to be in the same house with Brendan hit me.  I needed breathing room to plan my next steps and a reason to get the girls out of the house.  Taking Kimberly home was a normal course of events.  The younger girls were in bed for the night but the baby needed another bottle.  Turning off the stove, I called out to the teenagers, Kimberly’s parents are expecting her home tonight.  Are you ready to go?  It was as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred in our lives.  Almost!

I brought Anna Marie to Brendan; We’re taking Kimberly home.  The little girls are already asleep and the baby will be sleeping as soon as she drinks her bottle. Brendan glared at me and grunted, She can scream until she goes to sleep for all I care.  I gently placed the baby beside him and walked out of the room.  The truck did not have a car seat, so I had to leave her with Brendan.   

The girls were in the living room waiting for me.  I opened the front door as they shouted,  Bye dad and raced outside. 

Suddenly Brendan bellowed, Karissa, come here!  Her frightened gray eyes searched my face for help, but I could not rescue her.  She had to respond to Brendan or there would be trouble for all of us.

Outside Nakita and Kimberly ran to my van, but I sent them to Brendan’s truck.  I knew he would never put the children in their car seats and follow us.  Karissa ran out of the house and jumped into the truck.  Dad made me kiss him and say a proper good-bye.  I was afraid he was not going to let me go with you.

Fifteen minutes later, we dropped Kimberly off at her home.  As we drove away, I turned off the radio and said,  This is a situation I have never faced before and I need to consider various possibilities with someone I trust.  Will you give me permission to share this secret with Polly? 

The girls agreed Polly was someone we could trust with this ghastly secret.  Each of us maintained our own thoughts as I drove across town.  However, as I turned into Polly’s driveway, Karissa broke the silence, Please don’t tell Anastasia because she is going to the convent soon.  This is so embarrassing.  I really don’t want anyone else to know about this.       

New Year’s Day ~ 9:00 p.m.

Anastasia opened the door when I stepped onto the porch.  My unannounced arrival did not surprise her, as this had become my pattern in recent weeks.  On evenings that were especially difficult with Brendan, I waited until the little girls were sleeping peacefully to visit Polly and Anastasia for a cup of coffee, talk, and prayer.  Polly was already pouring coffee into my favorite mug.

I walked into the kitchen and whispered, We need to talk.  Privately!  Polly raised her eyebrows because I had no secrets from Anastasia.  I spoke softly, "Brendan has been molesting Nakita and Karissa. 

Polly shouted, What? 

I continued to whisper but punctuated each word with disgust, That louse has been having sex with my daughters.  Nakita and Karissa are in the truck but they do not want to tell Anastasia.  We need to figure out what to do next.  The cup of coffee Polly held slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor.

As she pushed me toward the front door, Polly said, Lydia and I are going for a walk.  We will be back in a few.  Please clean up my mess.  The door barely shut before Polly demanded, What is going on and where are the little girls? 

I pointed to the truck and said, The teenagers always go with me when I take Kimberly home.  If I woke the little girls up to take them with me, Brendan would have been suspicious.  They are safe because Brendan has no idea that I know his dreadful secret.  Polly listened as I told her everything the teenagers had shared with me. 

Then she asked the question I had been attempting to answer for the past hour, What are you going to do?  I replied, I don’t know what to do next, but I will divorce Brendan as soon as possible. 

Polly encouraged me to speak with Father Henry.  The parish priest and I were no longer on good terms.  For reasons unknown, this friendly priest had suddenly become especially cold towards me so I was reluctant to share this disturbing news with him. 

Finally, Polly said, Your family is very involved in the parish.  Father Henry is better prepared to deal with this type of problem.  He will guide you through this.

Polly and I went inside and she dialed the rectory.  I heard her say.  There is a serious problem concerning Lydia and Brendan Fox.  We need to talk to you right away. 

Father Henry exhaled noisily before replying, Tell Lydia to come to the rectory immediately.

Polly thanked Father Henry and said, We will be right over.  Grateful Polly was going to join us, I asked Anastasia to pray for my family and assured her I would explain everything later. 

As I turned to walk out to the truck, I had a premonition and added, If Brendan calls looking for me or the girls, please don’t tell him we were here or going to see Father Henry.  Anastasia told me she would pray for us and promised not to tell Brendan anything if he called.

When I climbed into the truck, Nakita and Karissa asked where we were going.  I told them Polly suggested that we speak with Father Henry’s before deciding anything.  They trusted Father Henry so did not question me. 

Again, the girls and I focused on our private thoughts while driving into an ominous future.

New Year’s Day ~ 10:00 p.m.

Father Henry greeted Nakita, Karissa, and Polly warmly, but glared at me.  Frustrated by his obvious contempt, I stared at him.  Not releasing my stare, he asked sarcastically, Well, what is this serious problem?  Suddenly exhausted, I simply stated, Brendan has been sexually molesting the teenagers.  They believe he is starting to do the same thing to your God daughter, Olivia. 

Father Henry was obviously not expecting this information.  He turned away from me and walked behind the desk.