The cover up

Why did I try to cover up what he did? Why did I turn my back on the child. This is why.

My cover-up lasted about five months. When someone would ask about him, I’d say he’s really busy at his new job. When someone would ask why he’s not in pictures with the baby, my response was always along the lines that he’s working or sleeping. When Easter rolled around, my mom wondered why he didn’t call them. He would call me on a regular basis and we wrote each letters. In one of his letters he said that he made a mistake and he will fix things. This is when our communication was amicable and before “they” got into his head.

He was denied bail and was facing fourteen charges.  The charges were ugly and the state where they resided has the toughest sex offender laws.  I couldn’t face the embarrassment or the judgment and I certainly didn’t want to break my parent’s heart. I continued to lie. I continued telling half truths. I wasn’t ready to admit to my family that I validated the girl’s story from that night.  I wasn’t ready to admit that I was interviewed by detectives, CPS, SVU and the DA’s office and told them all the same thing.  I told those officials what I witnessed that unforgettable evening.

When they discovered that he was in jail, I did something stupid and I’m ashamed to admit it. I want to puke as I’m thinking back to that time. I did not tell them the truth.  Instead, my story was that the girl “claimed” that he molested her. As expected, the family was upset. They were even more upset that the story wasn’t true. Remember, I withheld the truth and blamed it all on the step-daughter. So the speculations and opinions began. The girl was very flirtatious. The girl just wants attention. Maybe her mom is behind it. Whatever it was, I went right along with it. The longer I could keep them from the knowing the truth, the better (so I thought.) I was protecting him and in doing so, I put aside what really happened.  I made her come off as a liar when the liar was me.  I just couldn’t bring myself to admit it. By doing so, I think I caused more damage than good.

We discussed his legal options. We discussed an obtaining an attorney. How crazy is that? I did and said everything to go along with them. As I write this, the memories are coming back to me and I’m shaking my head in disbelief. How? Why? What was I thinking? I did research on the Internet trying to find the best defender given his charges. I contacted two law offices and obtained information such as retainer fees and what to expect at trial.  That sounds so ludicrous now because I was so far gone that I was going to get him an attorney even though I knew what he did. I did not retain an attorney for him as I was just sub consciously going through the motions. Shortly thereafter, he was granted bail so I contacted the detention center to get his bail info. I considered bailing him out which meant I would have to put my house up as collateral. But before any of that could happen, they found out the truth and everything changed.

Thinking back


I think and wonder what could I have done to prevent his behavior.  They say a child is a product of their upbringing.  I got pregnant at 19 and gave birth to him at 20 years old and of course that was a very bad thing in my parents eyes.  My father always said that I ruined my athletic career and I could have done so much better in life. I was his star athlete who he poured his heart and soul into.  My basketball career was done even though I probably could have pursued it, but I just did not have the support to do so. I was a young mother and had to take that responsibility head on.  I enrolled in the local community college and would go to night classes sometimes with him in the baby carrier. His father and I married very briefly and it ended when he enlisted in the Navy without my knowledge and I was left to raise him alone for several years.  I had no choice but to move back in with my parents which was hell. My father looked at me with disappointment in his eyes. My mother wouldn’t even look at me. We could all be in the same room and she would talk to everyone but me. I think she hated me for the young pregnancy and failed attempt at marriage.  Even growing up, she wasn’t a nurturer. She was a working mother with 4 children so she was busy. Too busy perhaps to attend one of my many games or even acknowledge how gifted an athlete I was. I tell people, no matter what extracurricular activities or interests your child has PLEASE support them 100%. It means the world to them and will have an overwhelming affect on them in the long run.  I really wished that we were closer.

I did the best that I could.  I’ve always held a full-time job so I was always able to provide for my son. One day, my mother and I had a really bad argument. I can’t even recall what it was about but given our relationship, it could have been something very simple. She was so mad and was trying to punch me and my only response was to put my hands and arms up in defense mode. No matter how bad it was between us, there was no way that I was going to hit or physically harm her.  During this exchange, she told me to get the hell out of her house which I did. Everyone silently looked on and said nothing as I packed our belongings in Hefty bags and drove off with my toddler son in tow. We had nowhere to go. I was hurt and  and scared.  We ended up sleeping in my car for 2 nights at a park.  Then, came along a very nice gesture from a male friend.  Back then, he was a youth minister and he said God told him to help us so he gave me a deposit to secure an apartment. The only thing I could afford at the time was a studio apartment in a not so nice area of Los Angeles but it was home for my son and I.