Chapter 31 Book 2

Chapter 31

Winning Isn't Everything.

Part 1

Both parents and family seemed proud of me, even though I had only won one trophy and a ribbon. Inside I felt I had let them down, going over everything I could have done better, second-guessing myself, always wondering what I could have done to earn that unreachable trophy. I know I should have been happy, but I wasn't. Instead, I was disappointed having my own mother witness my loss. I wanted her to be proud, and tell the world "I have a son, and look what he has accomplished."

All I saw when I looked in the mirror was a loser, a nobody. I wanted to make her proud every time she called me son and talked about me. It also made me want to try even harder. I knew I could do better if I wanted it bad enough, but a ribbon that said tenth place was like throwing salt into an old wound. For now, I had to be satisfied; I knew there would be other chances, but I doubted that my mother would support me, which mattered most. I wanted her to build a trophy case, showing all her friends and my father that I wasn't a loser.

I did my best to make them proud, but it seemed to me that I had let everyone down. I shook the feeling, burying it deep. I had promised to keep. Like always everyone stayed to swim. Dad had invited my Mom and my brother to dinner at some fancy restaurant to celebrate the win. To the Rothwells I was always a winner, but I wanted something more than one lonely trophy. I wanted the sky. I wanted to reach the impossible, but for now, I had to keep a promise no matter how disappointed, how drained I felt. I needed my family to surround me with so much love to be able to wash the disappointment away.

My mother had actually run out of film, taking lots of pictures of me racing to the finish line. Several more when the one trophy and ribbon was handed to me, and several more with me and all my brothers and sisters. Well, the ones that counted anyway, and several more of just me and Aaron playing in the pool. In some ways, I felt sorry for my sisters missing all the fun. Even more sorry for my father missing another opportunity to get to know me, but like my sisters, they wanted no part of me and Aaron and hated the very fact that we existed at all.

Like me, my Rothwell brothers were quite tan, compared to Aaron who was white as a ghost. Mom had stopped worrying about how my foster Mom and Dad punished me and them running laps in the field. Have only counted one car every four hours if that. I told her there are worse things to worry about than boys running laps or running around naked from the day as they were born.

It's not like me and my brother hasn't run around in our birthday suits growing up. Boys do that and if anyone tells you differently, they are lying. Mom smiled at the thought and bothered me that she was so comfortable with the idea. Yet didn't think she would trust me enough to tell me why it doesn't bother her anymore, but the same goes for me. I didn't trust her enough to tell her all my secrets either. I also knew one of us was going to have to make the effort, and that scared me that I was close to trusting the very person that had abused me physically and mentally.

In some ways we had both grown, but could we trust each other enough to let each other inside our hearts and take the chance that by doing so our hearts won't be broken or our faith and trust betrayed? I wish Jeff was here or Aunty M to help me make this decision or my beloved Downings, but for now, I would rely on myself.

Mom knew we would never be back in time as we sat down to eat at the restaurant, excusing herself and making a quick phone call to Officer Kenly. My father and my sisters would just have to fend for themselves, considering they didn't want to be here anyway. Officer Kenly only asked two questions. "Did I win? And if I was unharmed?" Mom gave him the news, having to come to get me so he could hear it from me and to congratulate me. Mom simply said we would be late; my father could watch them until we came home. It was seven now, and we had just started eating and it would take another forty-five minutes to drive home. He simply said to have a good time, and he would be watching for us.

I gave Dad the trophy and my ribbon to my mother, knowing that if it had given her the other, my father would have simply thrown it away. I had tons of ribbons, but my mother thought it was made of gold and just as precious as the trophy. But deep down, I felt I had disappointed her.

Once again, I had to say goodbye, watching them drive away without me. I tried not to cry, but the tears still came, regardless. It was a long silent drive home, Mom carefully adding the ribbon to the roses sitting in the backseat. She treated the box like glass even more so when we drove up into the driveway. Mom told me to lock the car while we waited for Officer Kenly to kick my father to the curb. He didn't so much as look at me getting in back of Officer Kenly's unmarked car. Telling Mom that he would be back as soon as he dropped my father off where he was staying. I had learned that my father had a nice comfortable roll-away bed at the church house.

We knew he was breaking the rules, but the Bishop had given him permission to stay over there while I was home. Allowing my father the use of the kitchen and the fridge so he could prepare his own meals, our Bishop went out of his way to make sure it was well stocked. Having taken him grocery shopping, like my mother he was a terrible cook. He would open a can of green beans and call it dinner. Or make a peanut butter and Miracle Whip sandwich. He wouldn't starve having school lunch at the school on the days he worked there, cleaning classrooms and toilets. He promised Mom that if he had to, he would have his wife make extra and take it over to him. It would be done.

Once again, Officer Kenly wanted to see if I was injured in any way, just me, not my brother or my sisters. He was taking a gamble that my father would never hurt them, considering they were his pride and joy. I wasn't required to do a full search, but I had already removed my boxers while I waited for him to secure the house was sitting on the bed with my mother and my brother, and he soon left being satisfied telling my mother to expect him around nine. Mom had given me a copy of my schedule. It wouldn't be as busy as today was, but still would be busy enough with piano practice and Gymnastics. I consider it a light day really compared to a meet which could take several hours.

Dad called a little after seven in the morning. I waited for Mom to answer the while I worked on my homework. It rang several times, earning me a glare from my mother. I continued to work on my assignments. I had just about finished when the phone rang. Mom quickly informed me that it was my foster Dad, informing us of a change or wrinkle in our plans today.

Apparently, my piano teacher had informed them that I would be doing two pieces for my recital this time around and wanted me to be at home by ten o'clock today and tomorrow to go over both pieces. Considering it was the only time she had opened other than six p.m. and by then I would be at my mother's home. Dad had decided that since I wasn't at school and my mother had to come down anyway it was the best of the two worlds. My foster Mom would provide breakfast and lunch for us. In fact, she insisted on it.

Dad apologized for the short notice but would make it up to her somehow. Mom was good when it came to negotiation. Told him she would see to it that I was there both days if they were willing to extend my visit to Sunday. Mom and my foster Dad argued about it, but in the end, Mom won, and the new deal was in place. The same terms applied regarding my care. I knew my father wasn't going to like it and neither was my caseworker. The deal was struck with my mother and my foster parents. We didn't have much time as Mom hurried my sisters along with a quick breakfast of Pop-Tarts and the choice of an apple or a banana or both. Just to get them out the door and remind them that their father was expecting them after school.

According to the weatherman, it was going to be another hot day and it would last all through the weekend. I was glad to hear it; I didn't want to have a storm class episode here. Mom quickly called Officer Kenly, telling him of the new arrangements, that if he wanted to see me, he needed to be here in twenty minutes or he would miss the window due to our tight schedule. There was no way he would make it, so he simply said he was going to have to trust her.

Mom scurried about getting Aaron's' teeth brushed and his hair combed. Mom asked what I needed, and I said. "Not a lot" quickly tossed my finished homework inside my backpack and was ready to go. I told Mom clothing would be optional today since was just practice and the pool, all I would need are my trunks and a few towels for me and Aaron. Mom was seriously beginning to wonder that I spend less time in clothes than in them. I dressed anyway to make her feel better. Noting, she still felt uncomfortable about seeing all of me other than in a bathtub or preparing for bed.

We had plenty of tranquilizers at home and I wouldn't need any in the Rothwell home or during practice or clothing for that matter other than my shorts. Mom was Mom. She would have added the kitchen sink if I had let her. When we arrived, breakfast was waiting for us, and everyone one was just leaving for school. Mom (Rothwell) quickly gave me a hug and several kisses. Shaking her head at my brother and me the way my mother had chosen not to follow her directions, having told her over the phone that clothing would be a waste of time today, but let it go considering my mother wasn't used to the schedule or my home life. Jared and Jason were home today due to the fact their school was out and would be until the following Monday.

My mother tried not to let on how stupid she felt seeing them only dressed in a pair of boxers sitting at the table. I had told Mom several times that during hot days like today, clothing was optional, even more so when I had gymnastics and had time after to do whatever I wanted at the pool. Considering they are both in the same building and the only time I and my foster brothers wore a lot of clothing was when we went to school or on very cold days. Not to mention it saves my foster Mom not having to wash clothes so often. Instead of my mother simply removed Aaron's socks and shirt and stuffed them inside my gym bag adding our shoes as well.

Mom ruined a good pair of nylons the last time she was here, so today she had chosen to wear Minnie Socks. I just grinned, knowing by the time we left today there would be holes in them. Even my foster Mom and sisters went barefoot and Dad when he didn't wear his house slippers, even more so on warm days like today. For me and the Rothwells, going barefoot was our way of life. It would be safe to say we are related to Huckleberry Finn.

I took my seat next to my mother and my brother. The blessing had already been said before we got there, but Dad insisted on it, so we all took hands while he gave it again. Personally, I think he was trying to convert my mother. He knew very well that they didn't pray in the morning, noon, and night. I, however, kept my word to prevent lying to him when it came to my personal prayers. Dad had a knack of finding out and the punishment wasn't worth missing my personal prayers.

My mother didn't say anything when I came back from washing mine and Aaron's hands, having left my shirt in my room and my socks. Personally, I didn't want to feel like the odd duck sitting at the breakfast table. Even Dad was dressed like the rest of us boys, as well as barefoot. My foster mother said he had taken work off so he could work on Shawn's and Danny's room.

I could see my mother felt uncomfortable, due to his size and how rough he was around the edges, plus the fact he wore less clothing than my father didn't help, it was one thing to be at the pool and quite another at home and in public. I had yet to see my father in a pair of shorts or without a shirt. It didn't matter how hot it was or the fact he was relaxing at home; he was always fully dressed. Even when I lived with the Downings, clothing was always optional.

Ma hated any of us wearing shoes or socks in the house, for a couple of reasons. Shoes always scoffed at her nice wooden floor or tracked mud onto her clean carpets. She hated to spend energy always on dawning socks. So in so many ways, my foster parents were almost a duplicate of the Downings when it came to clothing.

I had just finished breakfast when my piano teacher showed up. My mother noticed that she too knew the routine having removed her shoes without being asked and didn't faze her seeing my foster Dad or my brothers only dressed in shorts or boxers, simply set to her task leafing through the music she wanted me to play. I introduced her to my mother said. "This is Mrs. Peterson my best friends Ron's mother."

My mother shook hands and left me to it. I had already told Mom about my best friends whom my foster parents call us the Four Musketeers or my partners in crime. I could see the light click when Mom made the connection, understanding that clothing was indeed optional, considering my best friends spend a good share of their time here and at each other's homes.

As directed by my foster Mom, homework always came first before playtime, Mom brought out Aaron's homework and set it on the table with my brothers, Mom simply was the observer watching my foster Dad put on his work boots and strapped it in a workman's belt complete with hammer and several screwdrivers. Like the rest of us boys, he chose not to put on a shirt, giving my foster mother a kiss that should have been illegal but wasn't anything any of us had seen a million times over. I saw my mother look away feeling she was intruding, but her eyes deceived her as she watched my foster Mom place her hands on his tall, muscular body and slide them over his bare shoulders and the creases of his bare back.

Hearing Jared and Jason going. "Mom, ewe." Hearing her giggle and sigh whispered something in his ear and gently patted his bottom. When he turned, he was blushing and said. "We will continue this later when we have more privacy." Almost purred, giving my mother a wink, and went down into the basement to work on the rooms.

Mom blushed and high-tailed it to the living room and took a spot in one of the chairs where she could see me and my brother.

I knew my foster Mom had everything well in hand, even more so when she draped her arms around me and kissed my cheek, and gave me an extra one on my head then quickly and gently slapped my bottom playfully telling me to play her something nice. I also knew it was to emphasize I was her's not my mother's. I knew it hurt her to see them love me as one of their own, but what could you expect when she and my father had abandoned me and had abused me nearly most of my life? It also said if she hurt me in any way, God help her.

Like I said earlier, today was considered a light day. Since I was here, I had all the time in the world. In some ways I think my foster parents planned it, so they could observe my mother and learn her little quirks and give her an open threat that she and my father were not about to get what they wanted and if they did, it would open a war my parents wouldn't win.

Personally, I think my foster parents were giving her a chance to prove to them that she could be trusted when she came to my care and wanted to see for themselves that she really truly wanted to be part of my life. In some ways, we were all walking in uncharted territory. Like I had said earlier it was a rarity that any foster children that came to the Rothwell home had an opportunity for home visits. They either aged out or went to boys' homess or jails or worst prison.

After two hours and half hours of practice, I was pretty much ready with my first recital piece; we had chosen a second piece that I was familiar with and had been toying with it to become my next recital piece, but there wasn't time to choose another. This time, the prize was a big one that required two pieces of music, and they both needed to be memorized by the following Wednesday. I know, not a lot of time, but the prize grand prize was five hundred dollars and a spot in the nationals.

There were only ten spots and out of those only five would be chosen for the grand prize of one thousand five hundred dollars and a baby grand piano in the finals. I wanted that prize. I could practically taste it. Dad would have to build a separate trophy case to display it. Considering it was almost three and a half feet tall, one of the biggest trophies I would have. Last year, I came close to winning one of those ten spots by ten points. I would have gotten it, but I hadn't memorized the piece, so it hurt me dearly. One of the main reasons I push myself so hard, I hate being the loser.