One Mother of a Porn Star Book 3: Love is Not Supposed to Hurt

First Edition/Book Three of Four/2015

e-Book Publishing/Paperback

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Cover Design by Derek Murphy

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All Images Copyright © 2014 by Nancy Turner aka

All rights reserved - Library of Congress

ISBN: 978-069-259-98344

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Dedicated To:

To Pia Mellody

Her words and teachings gave me the strength

to love my Little Child Within and to heal both of us.

To my Amazing Son

For once again being in my lifeline, when the Forces of

Life tried to destroy me from all sides.

To my Psychotherapist, Betty T.

I wanted you to be with me in this moment, when I shared

my story of healing and survival with readers.

Sadly, my search revealed that you are now in Heaven.

To God

For recently sending yet another Angel to comfort me and to sing a beautiful song to me as I slept

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1: Going It Alone

Chapter 2: Paying a Price

Chapter 3: Hold Fast to the Truth

Chapter 4: The Ego Has Landed

Chapter 5: Endless Fever

Chapter 6: Bite the Bullet Time

Chapter 7: The Dance of Life

Chapter 8: My Melting Heart

Chapter 9: Dysfunction Junction

Chapter 10: The Audacity of Life

Chapter 11: The Wheels Come Off

Chapter 12: Twist of Time

Chapter 13: The Brink of Insanity

Chapter 14: Even Flowers Die

Chapter 15: Year from Hell

Chapter 16: Addicted to Love

Chapter 17: God Help Me

Chapter 18: Circle of Love

1

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Going It Alone

My heart and my mind are in turmoil. When night fell so did my world. I had just witnessed Stacy storm into a busy street in a crazy rage and scream at several drivers. He could have been murdered in front of my eyes. His obvious steroid use and its effects on his behavior frightened me. Intermittent sleep was rare that night. I tossed and turned, as if I were cast into a violent storm named Steroids.

No Mother willingly ignores a formidable foe to their child’s existence. I am no exception. I prayed through the night for an answer, a solution, divine guidance. When morning arrived, I went outside to get my newspaper. Since I’m a rabid football fan, and the 1992 NFL Playoffs were in progress, I opened the Sports Section. My team had made the playoffs. I scanned the game predictions and found my team favored by almost every analyst to win.

Suddenly, my eyes noticed an obituary on the left side of that page. One of the toughest players in the NFL had died of a brain tumor at the age of forty. He was also an avid steroid user/turned spokesman who chose to warn others of the hazards of steroid abuse. I looked online to find more information about his life, only to discover that he was also a victim of childhood abuse by his father. Sadly, his years in search of happiness and peace of mind fell short, even in his personal life.

It seemed his sadness fell into my lap, as a divine answer. I will continue to attempt to reason with Stacy about the life-threatening dangers of steroids, even if he gets angry at me about it.

When my dance partner, Heath West, called me, I said, Heath, what are the physical dangers of steroid use?

Roid rages, caused by anabolic steroid use, can create aggressive, hostile behavior. Over time of heavy use, the physical hazards can lead to cancer, liver failure, and heart damage, paranoia, scarring of the kidneys, high blood pressure, shortened lifespan and possibly suicide.

Please God, don’t let anything happen to my son!

After I hung up, my next thought was to call Betty. Instead, I hesitated. I know I’ve changed a great deal, because of my work with her. She insists I’m ready to handle my crisis situations alone. What would she tell me to do about Stacy’s Roid Rages?

I can almost hear her now. Debbie, you must discuss your concern with Stacy right away, or you must face the harsh possibility of losing him one day.

After I went to sleep that night, I had a powerful dream. God brought me into His presence. You have been chosen as the one who must stop the abuse in your workplace and your family.

When I woke up, I wrote down my dream, for it was a most surprising revelation to me and a bit of a tall order.

I recall the day Betty said, Your dreams are a wrap-up of your life history in a brief manner. They have touched all areas that are your basic problems.

The next morning, I went outside to brush my swimming pool. When I returned inside and sat on my couch, two bright lights appeared in front of me. Each one was surrounded by a vivid blue color. They began to swing back-and-forth like giant pendulums. I watched them slowly merge into one enormous globe and, suddenly, they disappeared.

As I pondered the meaning of the two lights, I realized it wasn’t the unicorns that were demonic to Crystal. It was me, because I ended her obvious affair with Bart.

Right now, I must talk to Stacy about his steroid use. I phoned him and heard a recording. Hi, I will be out of town for two weeks. Leave a message.

Mother phoned me late that night, as I came in from work. Debbie, I’m flying to see Matt tomorrow. Can you take me to the airport?

Sure. When do you fly back?

Next Saturday at noon.

Bring your airline flight info, so I can pick you up.

I drove Mother to the airport the next day and smiled at her. I’m so happy that Cousin Mary is finally getting married next month.

Mother popped off. "No doubt, it will be much better than that last whatever you did with George in Galveston."

Well, at least I had a beautiful wedding day.

But, it didn’t last very long. It was a fiasco!

Her insensitive remark irritated me. Yes, Mother, everyone I’ve ever married was a fiasco.

It was so short!

Betty told me, ‘At least you didn’t stay in it for four or five years and be totally miserable like some people do.’

Instantly, Mother clammed up and changed the subject. I must have hit her secret, sensitive spot. She married Harry forty years ago. I know she’s miserable with him, because of her recent call about filing for a divorce.

Debbie, if I divorce Harry, where will he live?

I can find him a nice apartment. He’ll be fine. He has income. When do you want to file your divorce?

Oh, I can’t do that to him. He needs me.

If you change your mind, just let me know.

I’m like a hostage here. If I go to the store or church, he demands to know what took me so long and who I saw. I’m a nervous wreck.

Like I said, ‘If you want a divorce, I’ll handle it.’

After I dropped Mother off at the airport and drove home, my stomach was in knots over another one of her hypocrisies. Not one of my former husbands was ever allowed to sleep with me, when we spent the night at her house. Here I sit struggling with the ugly truth about my childhood and previously unknown sexual abuse. Not only did my parents have visible sex in front of me and my brother, until I was five; she allowed my dad to sexually abuse me in my baby bed and did nothing to help me. My brother could hear it and see it from his room, because there was no door on their bedroom. God help me heal from this recent disclosure! It certainly explains a lot about why I had such a deep-seated anger, as I grew up.

I met Mother at the airport the following weekend and drove her to my house to get her car. On the way, she didn’t say much, so I said, Mother, how was your visit with Matt and his family?

Her face grew rigid. Not so good.

What happened?

Ask him. I don’t want to talk about it.

Okay.

After I parked, I put her suitcase in her car and turned around. Are you coming inside before you leave?

No, I need to get home and check on Harry.

I hugged her and watched her drive away. Sounds like some real fireworks broke out during her trip to see Matt.

Quickly, I hurried inside and phoned him. Hi, Mother just left. She said that her visit wasn’t so good. What happened?

The night before her flight, we stayed up after Darla went to bed and had a long talk.

It must have been a humdinger. She was really perturbed.

I looked her in the eye and asked my longtime burning question. ‘Mother, was I adopted?’ She gave me her famous wounded doe look. ‘Why would you say that?’ Because that’s how I’ve always felt, since I was little. Was I adopted? You went to work all night at the hospital as a Nurse’s Aide and left me there alone night-after-night. I was terrified. I couldn’t sleep. I sat in your big chair and shook in fear for hours. I was way too young to be left alone all night. I don’t remember that you ever hugged me or made me feel loved very often. So, I decided a long time ago that I must have been adopted.

Matt, Mother also left me alone at night for hours and hours, when I was in grade school. She would go help Harry at his service station. So, how did she handle your question?

She dodged it and blamed Granny for being a bad Mother to her.

Well that confirms it!

Confirms what?

"My psychotherapist taught me that abuse is generational. Our family definitely fits that description, big time."

We’ve already discussed your psychotherapist. You aren’t crazy, and I’m not either. Why do you continue to see her?

"I learned that it’s normal to be in denial about family secrets and issues of abuse. Believe me, I’ve done that, too. What you haven’t heard is that abused children assume one of two roles. As a child, I chose the low road. I was rebellious, needy, angry and vulnerable, along with very low self-esteem. You took the high road and became perfectionistic, superior, controlling and super mature."

Sis, I was in the same situation as a child that you were, but I’m okay. I’m just fine.

I was there, too, yet I stayed in pain without realizing how deep the harm was, mostly, because I had no idea what had been done to me. Were it not for Betty, it’s possible I might have eventually succeeded in killing myself, and you wouldn’t have been there the next time to stop me.

The thought of that is too much for me to bear.

"Because I love you, I’m going to send you my Pia Mellody tapes, Permission to Be Precious. Both of us were wounded as children by our parents. I hope Pia’s message will help you as much as they helped me. You recently sent me a God Bag and told me to put my troubles in there and let God handle them. When her tapes arrive, if you can’t listen to them, put them in your God Bag, until you’re ready to listen to them. I love you, and I know you love me."

The next morning, I opened my computer and discovered that one of Stacy’s friends had sent me a copy of an interview he made recently as Sawyer Stallion. It was a promo for his latest movie, Rugged General. The story included a picture of him as Sawyer Stallion. The article read:

Stacy Malone (aka Sawyer Stallion) Nightclub entrepreneur and erotic entertainer.

"The new star of sex and screen, Sawyer Stallion, makes his black leather bandit bulge in all the right places. His statuesque body will produce a carnal commotion on New Year’s Eve. The sharpshooter pants he’s wearing from Mad World will slip off him like a polished sheath to reveal his golden sword, a sight to behold.

As Sawyer’s latest film finished post-production, the number one player in Kitty La Flame’s Rugged General still has time to arouse fans, while wearing a metal half-harness and armbands by Raw Gold. The crowds will scream, Take me, please, take me. The icing on his attire appears when they see the hulking General of Lust sport a military muscle cap and aviator sunglasses. Web-like gauntlets are wrapped around his flexing forearms to complete Nikko Warrior’s Erotica #17 assemblage. As the clock strikes midnight, all eyes will go straight up to the too-hot-to-handle, onstage lust that Sawyer Stallion will hand his fans in a private venue on New Year’s Eve.

Sawyer’s Resolution for the New Year is to act onstage."

Since Stacy was out of town for one more week, I drove to Mother’s to see if her spirits had improved, since her visit with Matt. After I parked in her driveway, I walked toward her front door. An older Buick stopped in front of her house, and I heard a familiar voice from my past. Debbie Henderson. How in the world are you doing?

I turned to see Duke Powers, Roland’s father. He waived me toward him. Duke, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you.

"Yes, and you’re just as purty as always, Debbie."

I could smell liquor on his breath. I’m sorry about Connie. Mother told me that she died a year ago.

Yeah, that old cancer thing is a tough cookie to lick.

So, how is Roland doing these days?

He’s a top salesman for his company.

And still playing golf?

Every chance he gets. You know, you broke his heart, when you broke up with him years ago.

He broke mine, after he bought himself a new car, instead of buying me an engagement ring before I graduated.

Can I call you sometime just to talk? I’ve been so lonesome since Connie passed away.

Sure. I jotted down my phone number for him and glanced toward Mother’s house. She was watching us out her front window.

After he drove away, she opened her door. What did that old coot want?

He’s just lonely, since Connie died. I asked about Roland.

Mother made one of her contorted expressions. You know that Duke dated me back when.

Yes, Momma, you’ve told me that story a thousand times.

If I’d married him, he’d be your father and Roland your brother.

That’s right, Momma, but that’s not how it turned out. Now, is it? I gave her a big smile and walked inside.

She plopped in her chair, so I turned to greet Harry. How is your travel trailer business doing?

He gave met his usual grunt and a shrug.

Two nights after our visit, my phone rang at midnight. Hope I didn’t wake you.

No, Duke, I’m still awake. Is everything okay?

Today would have been our fiftieth wedding anniversary.

I’m sure Connie’s thinking about you today, too.

He talked my arm off, for over two hours. Finally, I said, It is way past my bedtime. I need to go.

Thanks for listening to this old codger.

Anytime Duke. Goodnight.

Two mornings later, Mother called. Well, Duke just made the local newspaper.

What happened?

The Kansas City Police found him walking their streets wearing nothing but a smile!

Was he robbed or something?

Nope, the newspaper said that Roland was called to come pick him up. Duke didn’t even know his own name or where he was.

That’s awful. Was he drunk?

Yes, he was, but he’s also a manic-depressive who must take lithium every day.

That’s so sad to hear.

On the first of the month, I paid off my home mortgage, after thirty years. Heath phoned me. Hey there, PWP is having a Waltz Contest next Wednesday. I bet we can win. Will you be my dance partner?

You know it.

After I hung up, I realized Crystal’s birthday was also that same day, so I phoned her. Hi Sweetie, guess what I just did?

Not a clue.

I made the final payment on my mortgage. How about I take you shopping and do lunch next Wednesday for your birthday?

Sounds great! Where shall we meet?

Be here at noon. We’ll play it by ear.

Sounds good.

I changed clothes and drove to work. When I walked in the side door, Production Manager Allen Cole saw me in the hall. I almost fell over, when he actually winked at me. I wonder what he’s been smoking to wink at me. We don’t exactly have the greatest relationships, since I became Union President.

As I entered my work area, I stopped at the water fountain for a drink. Suddenly, Johnny was standing beside me. Are you going to drink all of that water, or what?

I looked up at him and grinned. It had been months since he’d actually spoken to me, because some busybody called our Corporate Office. What if I choose the, or what?

He grinned. I knew you’d say that. How are things?

I’m celebrating. I paid my house off today!

Wish I could say that.

I don’t want you in trouble again for speaking to me.

From now on, I’m going to speak to you if I want to, and the people around here can just get over themselves.

That is the best news I’ve heard in months.

When I opened my front door, after work, my phone was ringing. By the time I answered, the caller hung up. I went to my bedroom, and my phone rang again, so I answered my bedroom phone. Hello.

Hi, it’s Duke. Can you talk?

Sure. How are you doing?

Other than embarrassing my fool self in Kansas City, I’m doing mighty fine. And, you?

I’m glad you’re okay.

Duke’s call lasted over two hours again. Finally, I said, Duke, time for me to get some sleep.

You sure are a pretty little heifer? I had to chuckle.

Goodnight, Duke.

On Wednesday, Crystal arrived at noon. I drove her to Pedro’s for some Mexican food. She wanted a Margarita, so I had a Sangria. In no time, her drink made her overly chatty.

Mom, let’s go dancing together again sometime.

You know how I love to dance. Let me know when and where. After we leave here, I have a surprise for you.

She grinned. I can’t wait.

I drove her to a discount store and parked. They’re having a sale on diamond necklaces today. Let’s go inside. You can pick out the one of your choice for your birthday.

Are you serious?

Of course, you know you’re special to me, and it’s your birthday.

Inside the store, she scanned their inventory." I want that one." It was a beautiful heart-shaped, diamond necklace.

I paid the clerk and helped Crystal fasten her new necklace. On the way home, I said, Heath and I are going to enter a waltz contest tonight at PWP. Want to come watch us compete?

I would, but I’m meeting four girlfriends at Ruby’s Spur to go dancing. Join us sometime. You’ll have lots of fun.

I might just do that and surprise you.

That night, Heath and I took first place in the Waltz Contest. We won a twelve-inch tall, black-and-gold-plated trophy with a dancing couple on top of it. The base had a plaque that read PWP Dance Contest, First Place. The number 93 signified the year. We also received coupons for four free dinners for two. I looked at Heath and laughed. Guess we’ll have to cut our trophy in half, since they only gave us one trophy.

Ah, you keep it, but you have to go with me to share those four free dinners.

Deal!

Heath is a great guy. He’s a truck driver and has a strong Southern accent. Sometimes, he wears a mustache and sometimes he shaves it off. When we first met, he wanted to date me. I had to explain, I love dancing with you, but if we date and break up, I’d lose a great dance partner. So, let’s be dance partners instead. We’ve been good friends and dance partners ever since.

The next day, I resumed typing Chapter Seven of my first book, Daddy’s Girl. As I watched my printer spit out the latest chapter, my phone rang. The moment I heard the voice on the other end of the line speak, my heart stopped. Who am I talking to?

Hello, Roland.

Is this Debbie Henderson?

Yes, it is. I’m now Debbie Austin. How did you find me?

Ever since Daddy went out of his mind in Kansas City, I’ve been driving to his home to pay his bills and make sure he’s on his lithium. When I saw his recent phone bill, I noticed several phone calls that lasted over two hours, so I decided to call the phone number. Why was Daddy calling you?

He saw me at Mother’s house one day and stopped to talk. He asked for my phone number, because he was lonely. I gave it to him. He just wanted someone to talk with.

Debbie, do you know how many years it’s been since we’ve seen each other?

It was thirty years ago at our high school rivalry football game. The coldest night of the year. I was eight months pregnant with Crystal. Jack brought me. We sat behind you and Stacy Jamison.

Did you know I had a broken wrist in a cast that night?

No, I didn’t. You had on a heavy coat. What happened?

I was still so angry, because you broke up with me to marry Jack, that I punched a wall with my fist. I caught a stud, and it shattered my wrist. I wish I’d shattered Jack’s jaw the day he and I fought over you, instead.

I wish you had, too. I suffered a lot, because I married him. He tried to kill me eight times and also broke my jaw.

Our thirty minute phone call soon ended. Debbie, I have to drive back home. It was nice talking to you.

You too.

That accidental call was a bitter-sweet moment. After I broke up with Roland and married Jack, I miraculously survived his vicious attacks. I often wonder what my life would have been like, if I’d married Roland instead. I’ll never know.

Stacy phoned me the next day. Hi, Mom, I guess you heard my phone message about being out of town for two weeks.

Yes, I did. Where did you go?

New Orleans.

Business or pleasure?

I was dancing in a bar and earned some terrific money.

Were you dancing or stripping?

Both actually. The guys liked my whipped cream act best.

Honey, I want to know something.

What’s that?

Do you realize how dangerous steroids can be?

No, they aren’t.

From what I’ve read, they are. I don’t want to lose you.

Stacy’s tone shifted. He grew loud and hateful, like someone I didn’t know. You aren’t going to tell me what to do. I’m grown now. I know what I’m doing. Steroids won’t hurt me. They give me bigger muscles. I need them to perform on-stage and on-camera. My fans love how I look.

"That was a Roid Rage I saw, the day you jumped out of my car and charged into the street to scream at those drivers. One of them could have pulled out a gun and shot you right there, while I watched. Steroids can damage your liver, kidneys, cause brain cancer, weaken your heart