Take My Hand, Just Hold On

That day I sat around depressed. I did get something done, though. I received, signed, and sent back out the documents from my lawyer. I still abhorred the idea that the maximum sentence was 3 years. Maybe I’d just move out of LA before he got out.

I shifted my position on the couch, sneaking a glance at Robert who was looking bored out of his mind.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, looking down at my hands.

“What for?” he asks.

“Boring you to death. I’m sure when you suggested I stay with you, or in the same hotel, you were expecting… Well, I don’t know, something more fun?”

“I’m not that bored, Brenna. It’s kind of nice not having to go out for once. Not to say I don’t wish this situation were different…”

“Well, I’m thinking I should call my folks and maybe go up this weekend. Rent a car, stop depressing you for at least a couple days,” I say, with a sad attempt at humour.

“This weekend? Would you mind if I tagged along?”

My eyebrows shot up, “I’m sorry? You want to come up to my parent’s place for the weekend?”

“I think it’d be nice to meet them. I’ve not heard a lot about your family, but they seem like good people. And I thought it would be nice for you to have someone there who,” he gives a short pause, “Already knows. I mean, I know it was hard for you to tell me. I thought I could be some sort of support for you when you told your family.”

I slowly nod, thinking about it. “What about work? I thought you worked a lot of weekends?”

“Precisely. They owe me a few days off.”

“You can’t just stop production because you want to go to your friends’ parent’s place.”

“Well I wouldn’t be stopping production. They’d have to do a bit of re-arranging, but I’m sure I can swing it.”

“If it’s not a problem, then I guess it’d be nice to have you there.”

“It’s settled then! I’ve just got to go call a couple guys; I’ll let you know for sure in a bit. Why don’t you order some food? “

*****

After Robert successfully got Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off, I called my parents to let them know I was in town and would be up for the weekend with a friend. They were surprised when I asked if my father could take Friday afternoon off, but said it’d be fine. I wanted to tell them together, and I didn’t want to have to tell my sister. I couldn’t look at her again if she knew. I didn’t want her to be dissuaded by my bad experiences; I wanted her to stay excited about her future and her own experiences. If that makes any sense.

So, Friday morning Robert and I hauled our bags to his car and took off for my parent’s place. It was about an hour out of Vancouver, so we were planning on making it there for about 12.

As I gave the last directions off the highway into my home town, I let out a long, slow breath. I was calm. I hadn’t felt this way for weeks. I just instinctively knew that nothing bad could happen to me here. Not near my family or my oldest friends. Okay, granted, my old friends no longer live here, but it’s the memories I have of this place that seemed to make me almost happy.

Robert pulled onto my street and, a few houses down, into my driveway. “So, this is it?” he asks.

I nod, “This is where I spent my formative years as a not-so-rebellious teenager.”

I see a smile form slowly, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

I raise a playful eyebrow, “No one here will confirm or deny any inquiries.”

He gives a short laugh, “Well, shall we?”

We get out and he grabs our two bags from the trunk – he called it ‘the boot’; I laughed. Before we made it to the top step my mum opened the front door with a big smile on her face, “Brenna!” she yelled, engulfing me in a hug.

“Hey mum,” I say, returning the hug. “How are you?” I ask as she lets me go.

“Very well, very well… Your dad hasn’t made it home yet but he called 10 minutes ago and was just leaving the office. He should be here shortly!”

“That’s great mum,” I look to Robert, who is standing on the second step down looking slightly awkward. “Oh, mum, this is my friend Robert! Robert, this is my mum, Sheila.”

Robert steps up another step and puts the bags down, “Nice to meet you, Sheila,” he says, sticking out his hand.

She takes it, “And you, Robert.”

“Oh, please, call me Rob. Your daughter refuses, but apparently that was my own fault.”

“Like a good woman, she is always right, Rob,” my mum jokes.

“Yes, that she is.”

“Please, come on in you two, it’s about to start raining any minute now!” my mum says, ushering us inside. “So, when Brenna said she was bringing a friend along I didn’t know she meant a man!” my mum says, rather excitedly, as though I’d never brought a man home before.

Robert smiles, about to respond, but I jump in, “He’s not my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re suggesting, mum. He really is just a friend.”

“Oh, alright then. Have you heard his accent though, dear? It’s to die for!”

“Anyway! Robert, why don’t I take you up to the guest room, we can drop off our bags,” I cut in before my mother can embarrass me.

Robert obliges and follows me upstairs. As we drop our bags off I hear the front door open and my dad’s voice, “I guess I didn’t beat them here, She?” My dad calls my mum ‘she’ – sometimes it gets confusing, but only if my dad is telling a story involving her and another girl.

I grab Robert’s wrist and lead him downstairs. “Hi dad!” I say as we reach the bottom stair and I see his back.

He turns around and smiles, “Hello daughter of mine!” He takes two big strides toward me and threw his arms around me.

“I missed you guys,” I say into his chest.

“We missed you too, Brenna. We were discussing coming to visit you this summer, actually!”

“Aw, I’d love it if you did.”

“Well, we will! So, tell me, how are you doing?”

I sigh, knowing that I need to tell them right away. Give them time to digest it before my sister got home from school. “I’m not great, but we’ll get to that soon. First, dad, I’d like you to meet Robert,” I say, turning to grab Robert from behind me.

“Uh, hello sir,” Robert stumbles, sticking his hand out again.

“Nice to meet you, Robert! Mind if I call you Rob?” my dad asks.

Robert smiled, “Not at all. I’d prefer it, actually.”

“Good, and you can call me Douglas. Please, not sir.”

“Will do, Douglas.”

At that moment my dad took a step back from Robert and squinted his eyes, studying him. Robert looked at me, curious. I shrugged my shoulders, unsure what my dad was up to.

“Uhm, dad? Can I help you with something?” I ask.

“Perhaps you can, Brenna… Are you dating someone famous?”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Do you seriously know who this is?!” I ask, incredulous.

“If I’m not mistaken, it’s the man who plays that vampire in the movies your sister is absolutely obsessed with?”

“You are not mistaken, father dearest! It is Robert Pattinson… I didn’t know Britt was into Twilight, though.”

“Oh, she is. You can see by the posters plastered on her walls,” he laughs. “Oh shit, don’t tell her I told you that! She’d be really embarrassed, I’m sure,” he says, directing the statement to Robert.

“Er, that’s okay. Consider it forgotten, Douglas.”

At that, my dad turns back to me, “I just realised you said you weren’t doing well. I’m a bit slow on the uptake here, sorry!”

“That’s okay dad. And just to clarify, Robert’s not my boyfriend. We aren’t dating, he’s just a friend.”

My dad nods, “Sure… Why don’t you two come into the living room, we can have a chat. You can tell me what’s going on in your life to make it ‘not great’, as you say.”

We follow him to the living room where my mum was setting up a bit of a lunch – a few sandwiches and cookies with tea.

After we had settled in and each took a small plate of sandwiches and cookies my dad asks, “So dear, what’s up?”

Of course he had to delve right into it. I know I wanted to, but sitting down, seeing them happily eating lunch, it made me not want to tell them anything. Why should I bring others down with me? I sneak a glance at Robert and he catches my eye.

“Maybe it’d be best to talk about it after lunch,” I say, looking down at my plate of food and forcing a bite down my throat.

I could see my parents exchange a glance and my mum shrug. I looked beside me and Robert was looking torn. “Brenna, this is the reason we came early,” he whispered to me, his voice sad.

I nodded, thinking of my sister. Fuck, I have to explain this all again… “Yeah, you’re right,” I told him softly. I took a sip of my tea and turned to my parents. I heard Robert place his plate of food on the coffee table and jumped at the touch of his hand on the middle of my back, trying to comfort me. Not helping, but I appreciated the gesture. But he must have felt me tense up because he removed it quickly thereafter.

I blow out a huge breath before starting, and my parents, sensing a disaster of a problem, took each other’s hands and exchanged worried glances. “Okay,” I start, “Well I’m here because… Because my boss told me to take a couple weeks off.”

My parents nod, unsure what to make of this, waiting for more… “And he told me to take a couple weeks of because I’ve not been very productive the last few days, stuck in a pretty deep depression, I guess.”

“You’re depressed, sweetie?” my mum inquired sadly, but sounding slightly relieved if this was the biggest problem I had.

“Well, yes. But he knew the reason why. And I guess I’m here because I feel like it’s something you guys need to know. And I wanted to talk to you now, before Britt gets home from school. Because I can’t have her knowing, okay?”

“Of course, Brenna. What’s wrong?” my mum is the one who speaks again. I look to my dad and can’t quite place the emotion on his face. Sad? Anger? Fear? I wasn’t sure.

“Okay, then, her goes… I was dating this guy, and he was over at my apartment watching a movie one night, and he started getting angry about something,” I started, not really wanting to get into the details of it. “Well, we started yelling and eventually I tried to kick him out, but he just wouldn’t leave.” I pause for a long time, took another sip of tea, and try to get that oh-so-familiar lump out of my throat.

“What happened, Brenna? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Again, it was my mum. My dad staying eerily silent.

I nod, “He did. In a sense,” I answer cryptically. Why does this seem to get harder every time I tell the story? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I bring both my hands up and grab balls of my hair in frustration, blowing out another long breath. Before I knew it, tears were already streaming down my face and I was crying uncontrollably. I felt Robert take my hand beside me and my parents rush over to the couch we were both sitting on.

I tried to stop balling for a good 10 minutes, but it kept coming. I finally looked at Robert and he somehow knew from one glance what I wanted him to do. ‘Now?’ he mouthed at me. I nodded slightly as my parents continued to flutter around trying to get me to calm down.

I heard him cough and my parents looked toward him, not having noticed our silent exchange.

“Uhm, Mr. and Mrs. Saunders, I know what happened. I think she wants me to tell you,” he stated awkwardly. I let out another giant sob, not believing that I’m making frigging Robert Pattinson tell me parents I was raped.

The look between us and my dad says, “Do you have anything to do with this?”

Robert looks taken aback, “No sir! Ehm, like she said before, she was dating an asshole and they got into a fight one night. She was trying really hard to get him to leave, but he wouldn’t…” he paused at the place I left off, my parents looking between us. He took a deep breath and got the next words out in a quick four-word sentence, “He raped your daughter.”