“When we discovered the truth, we went our separate ways. But Beth isn’t my sister. That’s a relationship that develops with time and intent.” There’s no warmth in his voice, and I try not to take it personally. This is an impossibly awkward moment.
“But, she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. And so, that makes her family.”
I look at him, grateful and yet so sad because I can hear the heartbreak in his voice as clearly as I could the day we said goodbye in that church.
“Life is so fucking unfair,” Joe says suddenly. His voice is thick with emotion and his hand is gripping mine so tight, it hurts. When I look into his eyes, the anguish I see there steals my breath. He’s not a stoic man, but I’ve never seen him cry.
“Joe, it’s okay. We’re okay…”
“No princess, it’s not. I haven’t told you the truth, either.” His voice breaks and alarm grips me.
I look over at Porsha to find her watching him, her expression guarded rather than sympathetic. I’m confused by her lack of emotion, she loves Joe as much as I do. But, I don’t have time to wonder what that’s about. I turn back to Joe and reach up to wipe away the tear that trailing down his cheek.
“It’s okay. Whatever’s wrong, you can tell me,” I say the words that Carter said to me on the day I told him the thing I was most afraid to say.
Joe takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Five years ago, I ran over my seven year old son with my delivery truck.”
A collective gasp ripples round the room. My heart quakes in my chest, but I don’t make a sound. The depth of his pain is on full display as he looks at me, fear and loathing war with a plea for understanding. It’s hard to see him look like that.
But, I don’t take my eyes off Joe, because he’s looking at me like I’m his lifeline as he talks.
“He ran out into the driveway. I didn’t see him. He wasn’t there when I got in the car. He was so little,” his voice is a tortured whisper, and his eyes lose their focus for a minute. His grip on my hand tightens. The room is silent and I realize that someone has turned off the music.
“I drove this big truck that I used for deliveries for my shop. I didn’t even realize I’d hit him until I got to the end of the driveway and saw him lying in front of my car. I realized that what I thought was one of the toys he used to leave in the driveway, was actually him. He was broken. And he died before the ambulance came. The police didn’t charge me. My insurance paid out the policy limits, but little Trevor was gone. He was the light of my life, and I killed him.” Joes voice is a kaleidoscope of grief, anger and resignation. But he’s not crying. His eyes are burning into mine like he’s waiting for me to connect the dots.
His son.
My heart plummets to my toes.
“Oh my God. But… the son whose calls and visits you’re always waiting on… Is that another one?” I ask, even though I already know.
“We only had the one boy.” He drops his head as if keep it up right was too much for him.
“Oh, Joe…” is all I can manage because my lungs won’t work.
“I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t hurt my knee in an accident. I drove my car off a bridge in Delaware. I wanted to die. But I didn’t. My wife, my ex-wife, Shannon - she won’t have anything to do with me. I don’t blame her.” His eyes hold the kind of despair I understand… you’ve accepted something, but you would give anything to change it.
My heart rages and weeps for him. The arbitrary and indiscriminate cruelty of life is so hard to understand. This man wouldn’t hurt a fly. He lost a child he loved. For the first time in a long time, I think of my father. How he has abused neglected every single of of his children, even after he’d experienced the pain of losing one.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper and cup his face duck a little so that I can see his eyes. The torment in them makes me want to cry. He covers my hands with his, pulls them off his cheeks, but holds them tightly.
“I’m sorry I lied to you. I hate myself for it. I moved back here to start fresh where no one knew what happened. I pretend he’s somewhere else. Because I can’t bear to be alive everyday if I think of him dead.”
“Oh Joe.” My heart is a tender, undercooked piece of meat I’ve long stopped trying to control. But, today I wish I could do something to stop the hurt I’m feeling. To be able to do something to make my friend feel better.
Ryan clears his throat.“Um, my real name is Happiness,” his words sound like a confession and I turn to where Nadia’s sitting and see that it’s not news to her.
“Talk about a misnomer,” Jack says under his breath, and Nadia shoots him a withering glare.
“My father is dead, my brother is in jail for killing him during one of their drunken rages. But I only know that because I read it in the paper. I ran away from home when I was a teenager and left my sister who was just a little girl and mom alone with my father who was an abusive alcoholic. I changed my name and I haven’t spoken to my family in almost twenty years. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to reach out to my sister. But, I’m so ashamed of how I abandoned her I didn’t think I had the right. Beth, it was that speech you gave last week gave me the courage to tell Nadia. I was scared, but I knew she was the right person.”
“Oh, Ryan…” Nadia breathes admiration shining in her eyes.
She steps into him and he wraps an arm around her.
“I’d forgotten what honesty, forgiveness and mercy looked like until you brought me into your fold. And it’s given me the courage to try again. I love you.” He smiles around at all of us.
Joe lets go of my hands and I turn to find him staring at the floor.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He won’t look up at me. “I’m sorry if I messed up your Thanksgiving. I know what I did was unforgivable.”
“Of course it is forgivable. But that has to start with you,” I say fiercely and look at Porsha for help. She’s staring blankly, like she’s in a trance.
“Listen up,” Penn orders in a loud voice that gets everyone’s attention.
“None of us here have pretty stories. But that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve the love and companionship in this room. Today is Thanksgiving. Let’s just be grateful,” She comes to stand in front of me and Joe and holds out a hand to each of us. I only hesitate of a beat before I take it.
“DNA doesn’t bind us. Love does. It’s easy to forget because for most of us, the families we’re born into is our first experience with relationships. But it’s the relationships we choose that define us. I’m sorry you’ve gone through so much,” she says to Joe.
“You can’t do a thing to change it. Yes, your wife couldn’t hack and she left you. But we won’t. I promise. Because that’s the choice we’re making.” “Let’s do this every year, okay?” Nadia squeezes Ryan’s waist and he drops a kiss on her lips.
My eyes, like they have a will of their own turn to Carter. He’s watching them, too. And he looks as miserable as I feel.
This is Killing Me