The Anniversary

She knew when the anniversary was approaching. The weather changed in September. The oppressive heat of summer lifted, and the winds swept down from Oklahoma bringing slightly cooler air. Texas didn’t have a very distinct autumn season, but it did have a very definite football season. Jenna hated the start of the school year. While everyone was buying school supplies, Jenna retreated from her friends and family, hiding in her little house on South Park Street.

The only thing different about this year was ten years had passed and the invitation sitting on her dining room table sat mocking her. The missive requested her presence at the class of 1995’s high school reunion. Jenna knew how long it had been. A reminder of that fateful night was due to get off the bus in 20 minutes. Jenna knew that wasn’t fair to think. Her daughter was a blessing and the love of her life. She also thoroughly loved being a mother. She would never wish her daughter away.

Her phone shrilled making her jump. This would be the fifth unanswered call from her mother today. She didn’t want to talk to her. It was 4:30 pm and work wouldn’t be an excuse for the missed calls anymore. She now knew what had prompted the call. Her mother would want her to come home for the reunion, but Jenna didn’t go home. She didn’t take her daughter to the town that’d betrayed her.

Her phone rang again. Jenna picked it up this time. “Hello,” she said with agitation ringing in her voice.

“Jenna, I have been calling you all day,” Doris’s shrill voice echoed over the line.

“I have been working all day, mother.” Jenna carried the phone to her bedroom to change out of her flour-covered clothing.

“Don’t you ever get a day off or is that job still working you to death?” Jenna rolled her eyes. She could see her mother’s pinched face in her mind. “I don’t know why you don’t move closer, being a baker isn’t a career and I could help take care of Samantha.”

Jenna sighed. The last thing she wanted to do today was have this conversation with her mother. It was one she’d had a million times. “Did you call to criticize my career and my efforts as a parent, or did you need something?” She winced when her mother responded.

Her mother harrumphed. “Jenna Carson, you will not speak to your mother that way.”

“Yes, mother. I apologize.” She didn’t want to be talking to her mother at all. She wanted to change clothes and make her daughter dinner. Jenna cherished her evenings with Samantha. The phone calls from her mother were few and far between these days but they usually ended in a slamming headache for Jenna.

“Good. Now, are you coming home for the reunion?” Jenna had known that was coming.

“Why would I do that?” She asked with more confidence than she felt. She could feel her head beginning to throb.

“You have to, it's expected.” Her mother blustered.

“Why?” Jenna knew why. One did not disappoint the matrons of Bregman, Texas. In the small town of nine thousand, her mother was a pillar. “I haven’t been back there in ten years and I have no desire to see anyone from my graduating class.”

“You are expected to show your face. I will not let you hide behind the skirts of your Aunt Margaret.” Jenna snapped her teeth together. That was really going too far. Her mother knew what buttons to push. She’d been the one to send her away to her Aunt six hours away from the place she grew up. Her aunt’s calming love had been what had gotten her through her pregnancy and subsequent birth. She was grateful to her mother for that much.

“Sam’s home, mother. I have to go.” Sam was not home but it was a good excuse.

“Fine. But I expect you to make an appearance, Jenna Lynn.” She hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed. She hated it when her mother called her that. It took her right back to that time in her life. She stepped closer to the mirror and examined the long scar at her hairline. She ran her fingers over it gingerly remembering the night she’d received it. That laceration had been the least of her pain.

It was the homecoming game against Nassau High School. A 17-year-old Jenna Carson waved her pom-poms in the air as Tom Pearce threw the final touchdown of the game. Her blonde ponytail bobbed up and down as she cheered.

“Jenna, are you going to Dalton’s party tonight?” Sherice Toller asked, not even pretending to care about the game.

Jenna shrugged her slim shoulders. “Maybe.” Sherice was her best friend and a known party-girl. Her mother cautioned her to stay away from Sharice. She argued that to be around her would ruin her reputation, but Jenna had rolled her eyes.

“You have to. You know Tom and the guys will be there.” Sherice nudged her playfully as they packed their cheer bags. “And Tom is way into you. He totally told Jake to tell me that he wanted you at the party.”

Jenna blushed a little. Tom was the quarterback and already had a full ride to Texas A&M for football. To say that Tom was a god in Bregman was an understatement. “No, he doesn’t,” she said rolling her eyes.

“He does! And I have the perfect skirt for you to wear.” Jenna followed Sherice to her green Toyota.

By the time Sherice finished with her hair, makeup, and outfit, Jenna thought she looked like a trollop. Her mother would kill her for wearing a skirt that short. Sherice thought she looked hot, so she went with it. Normally, Jenna would not have worn anything like that, but she wanted Tom to notice her tonight. She’d had a crush on him since the 8th grade. He was a local hero and way out of her league. Jenna wasn’t unpopular but she wasn’t royalty like Tom was. Her all-American looks and laid-back personality made her well-liked amongst her peers. But Tom’s father was the head of the local bank where her father worked, and he was untouchable. The townspeople worshipped him and his ‘rocket arm’ that took the Bregman Bulls to the State Championship last year.

Jenna tried to settle her nerves as they entered Dalton’s house. It was a crush and she had to walk sideways to get to the keg in the kitchen. This was no small feat in her 4-inch red heels. Sherice pumped the tap and squeezed foamy beer into two red Solo cups.

Sherice gripped her arm and pointed. When Jenna’s brown eyes landed on Tom’s 6-foot 4-inch muscled form, Jenna’s world moved in slow motion. His friends enveloped him as he took shots of clear liquor with the rest of the football team. She swept her long blonde hair back and away from her face. Tom slammed down his shot glass and yelled as Brady Johnson, Darren Smallware, Jared Morgan and Jake Pavelski cheered him on. Sherice jerked her hand and pulled her over to the group.

“Want to pour one for us?” Sherice asked in a baby voice, teasing them.

“Hell yeah,” Tom said as he raked his eyes up and down Jenna’s body. Jenna took a step back as the smell of tequila wafted from the group. Jenna didn’t mind drinking beer, but she typically stayed away from hard spirits. She couldn’t get past the smell to drink the stuff.

The music pumped around them as another round was poured and a plastic shot glass was shoved into her hand. She held her nose and drank the shot. Tom watched her with glee as she let the hot liquid burn down her throat. Sherice whooped and dragged Jake out of the kitchen to dance.

Tom leaned toward her and licked her ear. Jenna was appalled. She swiped at her ear and laughed nervously. “Want to dance?” He grabbed her arms and pulled her around him, swaying with her. The guys whooped and cheered around her, jumping to the music. Jenna felt lightheaded as she tried to step back from Tom. He pulled her close and whispered, “You know how hot you look tonight. Stop teasing me.” The dizzying feeling was threatening to overtake her, and she leaned against him. She wanted to push away from him, but her arms felt like Jello. Tom grabbed her hand and yanked her hard. She didn’t know where he was taking her, but the music pounded in her head so loud she had to close her eyes.

“Where’s Sharice?” Had that been her voice? Her lips felt numb. Tom just laughed. Jenna looked around not recognizing her surroundings. It was dark and her skin chilled from the night air. Tom stripped off his blue letter jacket and tossed it to Jared. She vaguely registered someone’s hands on her arms. She tried to pull away but was held still. Jenna felt confused and afraid not understanding what was happening to her body. She felt disconnected and out of control. “No,” she whined quietly as Tom shoved his hand up her skirt. When his tongue entered her mouth, Jenna bit down on him and tasted blood.

Tom yelled and raised his ‘rocket arm’. “Bitch!” The last thing she remembered was Tom’s angry black eyes, sharp pain in her head, and then nothing.

The shaking woke Jenna. Something warm and sticky was covering her eyes. She tried to lift her arm, but it weighed too much. She registered the pain emanating throughout her body. She forced herself to roll over as the bile rose in her throat. Her fingers gripped the wet grass as she emptied her stomach. It hurt to vomit. She tried to make sense of her surroundings. She wiped her eyes and looked at her hand. Dark blood streaked her palm. The sun was peaking over the horizon giving the sky a purple-pink hue. The grass underneath was wet from the dew of the morning. Her borrowed clothes were torn and awry. She had scratch marks on her hands and arms. Jenna began to shake harder as she tried to piece the events of last night together. She remembered taking the shot of tequila. Her stomach churned remembering.

She was on the side of the road. No cars passed at this early hour. She wanted to get home. Her body screamed with pain as she tried to rise. The dizziness overtook her, and she fell back down into the grass. She looked down and saw the blood between her legs. Jenna began to cry as the picture came together in her mind. Flashes of Jared, Darren, Brady, and Tom’s faces hovering over her moved through her mind. She laid back down in the grass and curled into the fetal position sobbing. Jenna couldn’t bring herself to think of the word. She couldn’t process what they’d done to her. She felt the world go fuzzy at the edges as she fainted.

The sun was hovering over the horizon when she opened her eyes again. She needed to get home. Her mother would be worried. She pushed herself up wincing from the pain. She was sore in places she’d never felt pain before. She understood with sadness that last night had been her introduction to sex and it was horrendous. She made her way across the cotton field stretching down the side of the empty highway. She could see an old farmhouse in the distance.

Four hours later, she sat in her bedroom in fresh clothes, scrubbed clean from a hot shower. Her mother insisted she didn’t need stitches in her head, but Jenna wasn’t so sure. She’d felt shame when she told her mother what happened. Her mother didn’t believe her. She called Sharice who didn’t believe her either. Her father blanched but walked away without a response. Jenna was alone in her humiliation and grief. No one believed her. No one questioned that the football hero and small-town god would do such a thing. Jenna stopped going to school when the ‘boys will be boys’ talk started. Her cuts healed and her body recovered. When Jenna discovered she was pregnant, her mother ignored her but had been clearly furious. Jenna knew that her mother blamed her as if she had been careless in her actions and gotten pregnant by choice. She rarely made eye contact with her mother during those first 8 weeks. Later, her mother pressured her to get an abortion, but Jenna couldn’t do it. Even though her child was conceived through force, she couldn’t kill it.

Her mother made her return to school after she healed. Those were the worst days. People whispered and kids called her a whore and a slut. The teachers looked at her with pity in their eyes. The group of boys who’d raped her acted as if nothing happened. Destroying her life had been nothing to them. Her mother sent her to Austin to live with her Aunt Margaret when she began to show at 5 months. Her mother and father could no longer ignore what was so obvious. Jenna worked hard and graduated early. And she’d never looked back.

Jenna stepped back from the mirror and shook her head. She didn’t often let herself remember the events of that nights with such clarity. It was just something that happened to her and when the fall season came tiptoeing in, she relied on her aunt and her daughter to give her strength.

Jenna jumped as the front door slammed open. Sam bounded through with her usual exuberance. “Mom!”

“Back here,” Jenna called from her bedroom. Sam came springing through the door. Jenna scooped her into a tight hug. When she pulled back, she looked at her daughter’s soft brown eyes and marveled at her creation. Her little person. Her blonde hair escaped from her ponytail as if she’d been playing hard. Sam was the spitting image of herself at that age. She was thankful for that.

“Mom, I’m trying out for soccer,” she said breathlessly.

“You are?” Jenna smiled softly at her and sniffed back her tears.

“Yes! The PE coach said I was really fast and had good…” she paused chewing on her lip in thought, “eyes and hands coordinator?”

“Hand-eye coordination.” Her daughter nodded emphatically. Chasing Sam into the dining room, she watched as she shuffled through the mail.

She held up the reunion invitation. “Are we going to see Grandma?” Sam said this was disdain.

Jenna smiled sardonically. “Absolutely not.” She took out pots and pans to make dinner.

“Good. I don’t like seeing Grandma.” Sam tossed the invitation in the trash can and climbed onto the barstool.

“I know. I don’t either,” she said with a chuckle. Jenna looked at the invitation sitting disregarded in the trash can as Sam chatted away. The simple act of tossing it in the trash made her feel like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She loved her life. She had everything she needed right here. She didn’t want to know how all of her old classmates lived; she didn’t care. She would not give them the satisfaction of gossip ever again. She would never subject her daughter to the horror that Bregman used to hold for her.

Someday, Samantha would ask about her parentage and she would need to have an answer but not today. She heaved a happy sigh and brushed a hand down Sam’s cheek. Nothing and no one mattered except this. Jenna was confident that this anniversary, she would be happy. She was done letting her memories haunt her.