Olivia though about her own words as she walked away from Burton Lowe;
"Maybe she was just trying to protect me."
The weight of years of pain and longing seemed lighter and Olivia repeated the words; "Maybe she was just trying to protect me." The cop in her knew that didn't excuse her mother's abuse, there was no excuse, however, the hurt little girl inside felt peace wash over her memories. The anger at Serena dissipated, replaced with sadness. "Maybe she was just trying to protect me." She thought back, a moment in time when Serena had taken her by the arm and pushed her out the door, locking it behind her. Echoed in her own actions that night she'd found Susan's cabin and Noah had come out of the bedroom still half asleep. Olivia had done the same, pushing him out onto the porch, locking the door, even as he begged her… all to keep him safe from the unhinged grandmother who had stolen him. As a child, Olivia had believed her mother simply didn't love her, what else could have caused Serena to push her out the door in her pajamas as Olivia pleaded. But where Olivia had more than forty years of growth and plenty of therapy before entering motherhood, Serena had been a college student raised without a mother… who had also been raised without a mother. Call it a multi-generational curse that ended right here.
The Treaux's had moved from Louisiana to New York just before Margaret was born, escaping from poverty and running from their own parents' lives on the bayou for a chance at something other than slinging seafood in a rundown family diner.
Chalmers and Lenore Treaux arrived in New York just in time to welcome their oldest child, a daughter they called Margaret. Best friends since childhood, they'd decided to escape the damp heat of the Louisiana bayou. Chalmers wanted more for his family than another generation wading in the swamps to stock the Treaux family diner. So, the week after they married, he and Lenore set off, taking their time, looking for the promised land. Somewhere around North Carolina it became apparent that Lenore was pregnant, who knows how far they would have gone had the child arrived any later. Very quickly, three became four… then five… and six.
It was fascinating how even the warmest summer day in New York was still a fair bit cooler than springtime in the south. That's what Lenore's brother Gannon said when he roared up the dirt road on his motorcycle and stopped with a skid outside the Benson's New York home. A four-year old Margaret bounded down the steps and flung herself at her favorite uncle… in truth Gannon was the only uncle she'd met, him being the only family member adventurous enough to visit New York. That day was the day, the last time he'd left, he promised Margaret that next time he would give her a ride on his motorcycle.
Margaret screamed in delight as they whipped down the road and back again, her brothers stood screaming for a totally different reason as she and Uncle Gannon zipped by them. They were too little, Margaret wasn't often tempted to tease and she wasn't really teasing, but she'd had to wait four whole years, ten months, and fifteen days for this ride and if the boys got a ride one day earlier it just wouldn't be fair. Uncle Gannon set her on the lawn, still vibrating with excitement and goaded his own big sister.
"C'mon, Nori! My big sister gotten too grown up for a joy ride?!"
Lenore tossed her head back and laughed the laugh that was one of Margaret's favorite sounds. The little girl watched in awe as her momma strode across the lawn, handed baby Willa to Uncle Gannon and swung one long leg over the seat of the motorcycle… polka dot dress and pumps. The glee turned to horror in an instant and no one quite knew what had happened for a split second. Margaret stood frozen, wide-eyed as the motorcycle slid to the other side of the street, leaving her mother in a heap. That was the day that childhood ended for Margaret.
Fifteen years later, the now Margaret Benson stood in the half-light just before dawn watching her baby daughter, Serena sleeping. She'd been conditioned to be a mother like most little girls of her generation, provided with dolls and cradles and prams. Encouraged to help momma with the laundry and the cooking and the caring for her younger brothers and sister. After momma's accident, Margaret became the mother, learning to change diapers, to cook and clean, and look after the home. Momma lived, but she wasn't ever momma again. Severe brain damage, acquired retardation, that's what they called it. Momma was more like a big sister that had to be watched all the time. Margaret wasn't even twenty years old yet, but she'd been a mother for fifteen years… and she couldn't do it again. She'd raised her mother's children and couldn't bear the thought of being trapped once again. She stroked Serena's soft cheek and turned and walked away.
Serena Benson breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the flash of headlights in the dining hall window, it was about time. The stock boy was running late and she had an exam in the morning, she'd certainly managed on less sleep before but this was a final and it was important to do well. She slammed open the back door and stomped over the truck, yanking the doors open to start hauling supplies for the next day. Between herself and the driver, the work was done quickly and Serena locked the dining hall and rushed to the library for a last-minute cram session before heading to her dorm for sleep. She was in the stacks, searching for a volume on ancient mythology and literature when she was grabbed from behind. A hand, gloved in soft leather, covered her mouth. A low voice told her not to make a sound or it would be the last thing she uttered. She felt something like a noose slip over her head and she squeezed her eyes shut, she was going to die, but the noose didn't stop at her neck, it went down further, trapping her arms against her sides before it tightened.
He pushed her to the rough, carpeted floor, his hands under her skirt, searching. He found her underwear and yanked them down, pushing her skirt up, and then he was inside her, thrusting hard and fast. She felt the carpet burning her bare flesh as he thrust and she sent herself into the ceiling, staring hard at the spackling until she could see pictures. An animal grunt brought her attention back to his eyes, darkened and hollow as he finished. He stood and zipped himself as his seed, warm and stinking, seeped from her bruised body. She lay there until the blood thudding in her ears receded and she heard only the grandfather clock in the library foyer sound 10:00 pm. As the tenth chime echoed, Serena shakily got to her feet, pulled her underwear back up, straightened her skirt and walked on unsteady legs to the nearest police precinct.
Later in the shower, Serena scrubbed until her skin was red and raw just as much from the shame of her assault as from the humiliation of sitting with those officers and their skeptical faces. Condescending voices picking apart her entire life echoed in her head, the shower's roar doing little to quiet them. The ache between her legs was secondary to the agony of her soul that screamed as it died and kept screaming, quieted only by the alcohol she poured on top of that withered piece of herself. So, she poured and kept pouring even weeks later when she was sure she was pregnant.
Joseph Hollister had never gotten to ride the wave like this, those other girls, sure he'd seen them from a distance in the days and weeks after he took them. But, never had one been the regular to receive his nightly deliveries, it's one of the reasons he'd finally decided on her… Serena, her name sounded like a song and like a song she stuck in his head. She hadn't even taken a night off, the next night, she was there, in the diner, waiting for him. She had no idea and it was a delicious delight he got to savor night after night, passing boxes of supplies to her, brushing her fingers, getting a bit to close and taking in the tension in her shoulders and face like ambrosia. The power he felt kept him going for months, it was waning when it happened. She reached to put up a box and he saw it, the swelling under her apron and his pleasure returned, he put that there. She'd never forget him now, she didn't know it was him but she'd never forget and it was a power that he'd always have over her that she could never put down.
Serena was staring at the wall, one hand wrapped around a bottle and the other absently stroking her swollen belly when, for just a moment, she thought she'd pissed herself. The first tell-tale signs of tightening in her belly came as she drove herself to the hospital. She was calm as she carried her overnight bag into the room assigned to her, following an overly hyper nurse who was beside herself upon hearing that Serena should still have a month to go. Her doctor soon followed, assuring Serena that the last month was really mostly for baby to fatten up before birth, her baby might be a bit small but it would be okay. Serena didn't need the assurance, she was gloriously numb, and accepted any and all offers for pain relief to keep it that way. Between the half bottle of vodka from earlier in the evening and the gas, Serena was taken by surprise when the doctor held up a squalling, gore-covered creature… not even aware she'd given birth.
"It's a girl!"
Serena just stared blankly at the once overly hyper and now overly chipper delivery nurse. A girl… she hadn't given any thought to the kind of baby she might have, but found herself mildly relieved it wasn't a boy. The nurse asked about a name and Serena blinked, something else she'd failed to consider. Offered assurance, once again, that she didn't have to decide right then, Serena just remained silent. Hours later, Serena was drifting on a sea of dissociation, listening to the inane hum of the cooing mother in the bed next to her, when the nurse returned with a bundle of blankets that she excitedly held out for Serena to take. Serena wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but she was brought sharply back to reality by the large, brown eyes set in a tiny face that peered at her. The lips of a rosebud mouth pursed as though the baby was sizing Serena up instead of the opposite and Serena noted the dimples that appeared. Prompted for a name again, Serena found herself saying Olivia… Olivia Margaret… and she realized she'd decided to keep the child, something she hadn't known until that moment. But why not? At least now she'd have someone to love… who would love her back.
"Why Olivia Margaret? I thought your mother was never around?"
Her best friend, Nancy, had a point. She'd come to visit now that Serena and the baby were home and was amused at the child's name. Serena supposed that never was inaccurate, her mother was around once. It was Serena's eleventh birthday and a dark haired, dark-eyed woman with a wide, dimpled smile appeared at the gate of the schoolyard and called her name. Emboldened by the presence of the gate, Serena had been drawn to the woman and approached.
"How would you like to go to the theater like a proper lady?"
The woman hadn't waited for Serena to answer, but turned and walked toward the entrance of the school. Moments later, Serena was called to the office and told to bring her things with her. The woman was in the office, her dark eyes sparkling. She introduced herself as Margaret, a good friend of Serena's father and had a note from him permitting her to take Serena from school for the day. It was the best birthday Serena ever had or ever would have, Margaret took her to lunch at a real Italian restaurant where she'd ordered in Italian and let Serena sip at her wine. Then they'd gone to Bloomingdale's and Margaret had let her choose whatever she wanted, wanting to be polite and not take advantage, Serena only briefly ran a finger along a beautiful red dress on her way to the sales rack. Margaret's keen eye caught the action and insisted that she not only get it, but new patent leather Mary Jane's, and white socks with lace… a far cry from saddle shoes and discount socks her father kept her in.
"Do you know Shakespeare?"
Serena's mouth fell open as the yellow taxi pulled up to a theater, this was no movie theater, playbills outside showed a magical scene from Twelfth Night… which Serena had read, after finding a copy of the play while snooping around the attic one rainy day.
That, she recounted to Nancy, was why she called the baby Olivia Margaret. Serena hadn't found out for several years that Margaret was actually her mother, but she still remembered the way the woman had looked at her… the way she'd felt in her presence. With the baby's similar dark eyes, rosebud lips, and dimples perhaps she'd get the chance to feel it again.
Joe couldn't believe his luck, ever since Serena came to work with the dark circles of new motherhood under her eyes, he'd been desperate to get a glimpse of the baby and was pushing it asking her about the child during his deliveries. His time was running out with Serena and the baby he'd found out was named Olivia, she was eight months old already and Serena was about to graduate and leave Columbia forever. Tonight, Serena had come out to the delivery van in a huff, muttering about the babysitter who'd left her a lurch and that she couldn't afford to get fired when she was so close to graduating. Upon entering the kitchen, Joe's eyes were drawn immediately to the baby cot in a corner where an infant sat happily teething on a rusk biscuit. Joe squatted down and was treated to a wide, gummy grin when he danced a little doll in front of her. That high would last the rest of his life.
Serena knew she wasn't much of a mother, her maternal instincts were heavily diluted by generations of absent mothers and what was left had been drowned in booze. She wanted to keep the girl safe, to keep her, but every time Serena acted she hurt Olivia. Like the night she'd woken up at 3 am to find the space beside her empty, though she'd passed out with her boyfriend at her side. She'd found him in Olivia's room, his hand down his pants, stroking himself as he watched the six-year old sleep. The social worker had asked Serena why she didn't kick him out, why she'd grabbed Olivia from her bed and pushed out into the hallway of their apartment building while the girl sobbed. She didn't know why, all that went through her mind was to keep Olivia safe, if she wasn't there, she would be safe, so Serena got her out of danger.
When Olivia started her period for the first time, all Serena could think of was that she was losing her daughter. Olivia was growing up and she was going to leave and Serena would be alone again… somehow it made sense through the alcoholic-haze to beat the thirteen-year old with a hanger. Three years later when Burton Lowe, a senior in one of Serena's classes, went after Olivia, stealing her innocence that was so precious to Serena herself- that she lived vicariously through- she was again facing being left alone. Serena had been grateful that Olivia fought back that time, because she wasn't sure that she wouldn't have killed her had she gotten to her with that broken bottle.
