Accidentally on Purpose 6 Book Box Set

by L. D. Davis

  ***

  “Sterling Corporation, Mayson Grayne speaking,” Mayson answered in a bored tone.

  “You should leave that evil place and come work for a real man,” I said huskily into the phone.

  “If you keep talking to me like that, I may comply,” Mayson laughed. “What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to say hello and see how you were doing,” I said innocently.

  “Uh huh. Really, what’s up?”

  “Can’t a guy call and check up on his friend?”

  “Of course he can,” she said. “But that’s not why you’re calling me, friend.”

  “Okay, okay,” I conceded. “I actually have something serious to discuss with you.”

  “Spit it out, Kessler,” she said with a soft sigh.

  “Okay,” I said with my own sigh. “I’m just going to get to the point. Did Kyle hit Emmy?”

  I heard a sharp intake of breath on the line. “You think so, too?”

  “So, you think he did?” I pressed.

  “Well…” she hesitated. “After you moved away, Kyle took her to Miami for a long weekend. She came back with a cast on her arm. Apparently she broke her wrist.”

  “What? Really?”

  “Yes. She said she was very drunk and she fell down.”

  “But you didn’t believe her?” I asked, trying to ignore the pressure building in my ribcage.

  “Absolutely not,” she stated clearly. “How much has Emmy told you about my past?”

  “Not a whole lot. She doesn’t really bring up other people’s demons. I know you had some rough years when you were younger.”

  “Rough is an understatement. In a nutshell, I was on drugs, I was bulimic, and I had an affinity for abusive loser boyfriends—one big bad one in particular. The whole I-fell-down-because-I-was-drunk bit had been used by me many times in the past. She should have known better than to use that excuse on me.”

  “So, you’re convinced Kyle did it,” I concluded.

  “I am, especially since from that point on she just seemed to get more and more depressed. Still, I may have allowed myself to be fooled, but the very day that cast came off, Kyle gave her a bracelet. She claimed it was just a gift for her recovery, but I’d bet my ass it was an ‘I’m-sorry-I’m-an-asshole-and-broke-your-arm’ gift. And I would catch her staring at the bracelet, not with admiration, but with…I don’t know…bitterness…sadness.”

  I was suddenly nauseous. “The bracelet…is it…does it have leaves on it and diamonds?”

  I heard a gasp. “She wears it? Oh my god! That’s so…so…I don’t know…fucked up!”

  Fucked up indeed. I had not seen her wear it in a while, but now I was wondering if all of the times she did if it just made her somehow feel closer to Kyle. Why would she want to feel closer to Kyle if his violent act is what got her the bracelet in the first place?

  I ran a hand through my hair as I considered this. “Do you think he hurt her more than that?”

  “She had an occasional small bruise here and there,” Mayson sighed. “Not enough for me to believe he was pushing her around, but it’s possible. Emmy is the last person I would think would let some dick repeatedly hit her, but I think that’s why she took off New Year’s Day.”

  “Is that when she left Jersey?”

  “Yep. Packed up and left all of a sudden. I didn’t know she was gone until Sam called me to tell me Emmy had been in an accident. She said Em was banged up really good. It all seemed very mysterious to me, but I had no proof either way. Kyle had also disappeared off of the face of the earth. I later found out he was in rehab, had been there since New Year’s Day. That was one big coincidence.

  “It was like someone hit a light switch, Luke. New Year’s Eve she was, well, depressed, but still kicking, and then suddenly she was a completely different person. She crawled under a rock and died. Honestly, if she wasn’t pregnant with Lucas, I’m not sure if she would have lived through whatever she was going through.”

  I called Sam next. She had the other half of the story. She would be able to give me more details about Emmy’s condition when she arrived in Louisiana. I didn’t bother with the polite greetings. I loved Sam, but sometimes I still harbored some bad feelings towards her for holding out about Lucas, and I didn’t always like the way she made Emmy feel about herself.

  “Sam what happened when Emmy showed up on New Year’s last year?” I asked as soon as she answered the phone.

  “Why do you want to know about that?” she asked.

  I gritted my teeth and pounded a fist on my desk. “Sam, you infiltrated into my family at a time when I wanted no reminders of Emmy. You withheld your knowledge about my son while you were sharing family dinners with my family and sitting with my sister through chemo. I want to know about Emmy on that day and you are going to tell me.”

  “Get your panties out of a twist, Luke,” she huffed. “I’m just curious. Emmy called sometime after midnight and said she was taking an early flight down. She got here a day late, though. She was in a car accident before she got here. She looked terrible. That’s no big secret. Why don’t you ask her about it yourself?”

  “Sam, she’s having nightmares,” I said roughly. “No less than twice a week she has nightmares.”

  “About the car accident?” she asked incredulously.

  “I don’t think there was a car accident,” I said carefully. If she really did not suspect that Emmy had been abused, I didn’t really want to be the one to break it to her.

  “Why would she lie about a car accident, Luke? She sure as hell looked like she was in a car accident. She was all bruised and banged up.”

  “Whose car was she in? If there was an accident that banged and bruised her up, there had to be a pretty decent wreck.”

  “She wasn’t very specific. I was just glad she and Lucas were okay.”

  “You are the nosiest person I know,” I said impatiently. “You sure were lacking in questions that day.”

  “Don’t you judge me, Luke Kessler,” she snapped, her southern drawl more pronounced. “Emmy was already depressed. I didn’t want to push her. You didn’t see how she was back then. I’m still shocked and amazed she didn’t take her own life.”

  I inhaled sharply at the idea.

  “So, you never second guessed her story on the car accident,” I said.

  “What the hell for?”

  “Did you question her about her broken wrist?” I fired at her.

  “What broken wrist? What the hell are you talking about? Emmy never broke her wrist.”

  Samantha was so clueless, and I should have known as much. If Mayson or Sam had any hard facts, Kyle probably wouldn’t still be breathing. I knew in my gut that he had hurt Emmy and Emmy had protected him by lying to her family and friends.

  Even though I would never physically harm Emmy or any woman, I felt responsible for the trauma she endured. I practically pushed her into the situation and wished terrible things on her. I was just as much responsible as Kyle was. If I found that Lucas had been harmed, too, I would never ever even attempt to find forgiveness for that.

  “Emmy broke her wrist,” I sighed. “Late September, early October.”

  “She never said nothing,” Sam said in a high voice. “Why wouldn’t she have told me that?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, running a hand over my face. “How was Emmy’s behavior after the accident?”

  She seemed reluctant to let go of the broken wrist part of the conversation, but she sighed heavily and moved on.

  “Like I said, she was depressed. She stayed in her room. She stayed in bed. She didn’t talk to nobody or do anything but lie there and sleep or stare at the damn walls. It was like she up and died—at least until she took off like a bat out of hell for France.”

  I trembled with anger. Why hadn’t anyone helped her? Why did they let her suffer alone? Why didn’t anyone ask questions? I wasn’t there and it seemed clear as day that she was abused, yet everyone overlooked it?
<
br />   “No one helped her,” I said in a tight voice. “Why didn’t anyone help her?”

  “We couldn’t help her if she didn’t want to be helped,” Samantha argued.

  “Bullshit!” I yelled. “You are the most overbearing woman I know, Sam. While it was still fresh, you should have made her tell you and you should have helped her. Now she’s had all of this time to build up defense after defense. She’ll never admit it now because she’s spent so much time in denial.”

  “Admit what!” Sam yelled. “What the fuck are you eluding to, Luke Kessler? And how the hell did my daughter break her wrist? You seem to know so much. Why don’t you answer some damn questions now.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths. It wasn’t my place to tell her. Emmy needed to tell her. Hell. Emmy needed to tell me.

  “I thought mothers had Spidey senses,” I said sourly.

  “Emmy never broke her wrist,” Sam said indignantly. “She would have told me. I don’t know where you’re hearing these things.”

  “Your Spidey senses suck, Sam,” I said bitterly. “Emmy broke her wrist right after I left Philly. She broke it while she was in Miami with Kyle. She told Mayson she fell down after drinking too much. Mayson suspects that is why Kyle gave her that bracelet she wears.”

  There was a moment of silence. When Sam spoke again I could hear a trace of doubt in her voice. “Emmy drinks like a damn fish, Luke. It’s very possible she fell down, and Kyle Sterling gave her that bracelet because she worked her ass off for that dick.”

  I ran my hand over my face again. Samantha Grayne was anything but a dense person. The fact that she had repeatedly overlooked signs of Emmy’s abuse but could smell whether or not the woman was on a dry spell was troublesome. She was in Em’s face about everything else but this one thing that ultimately changed Emmy’s life. I was disappointed and hurt for her. How many other traumatic experiences had she had throughout life and didn’t have her mother to depend on?

  “You go ahead and continue to keep your head in the sand,” I said dryly. “Don’t tell her we spoke about this.”

  “You think I’m a bad mother,” she said softly.

  “I think…” I chose my next words carefully. I was angry and hurting for Emmy, but I knew that Sam loved her daughter, and I know what it’s like to close your eyes to what’s in front of you and imagine that things are different than what they really are. I did it when I knew Emmy loved Kyle and I did it again after Em moved in. “Sam, I think that we all made mistakes, but…I’m not going to continue to pretend that Emmy is fine. I’m not going to continue to be blind and deaf to the fact that she’s in pain. Something happened, Sam. I don’t know what, but it wasn’t any damn car accident.”

  “What do you think happened, Luke?” she asked defiantly. “My daughter was in a car accident. She would have told me otherwise. We don’t always see eye to eye—”

  “Try never,” I interrupted dryly.

  “—but,” she stressed, letting me know she wasn’t going to acknowledge that. “Emmy would have told me if something else happened to her. My mind won’t even go there because it’s just incomprehensible.”

  And that pretty much summed it up. Sam had her head in the sand. Fine. I didn’t want her to handle it anyway. I needed to handle it.

  But I had no idea how the hell I was going to handle it.

  After hanging up with Sam, I checked my schedule for the day. My afternoon was virtually open—open enough for me to skip out of work for the rest of the day after lunch. I picked up the phone and called Emmy.

  “Hey, want to do lunch today and then take Lucas to the park?” I asked her after she answered.

  After the conversations I just had with Mayson and Samantha, and worrying about the upcoming paternity testing, I needed to see her, to be close to her.

  “You’re going to cut out of work early?” she asked. “Play hooky like a bad boy?”

  Hell. She almost sounded flirtatious. She almost sounded like old Emmy. It was enough to give me a semi.

  “It’s not hooky if I own the business,” I answered.

  “Hooky is hooky. Yes, we’ll meet you for lunch and for a play date. Lucas could use a day at the park.”

  “We all could use a day at the park,” I muttered.

  “You okay?” she asked, though she sounded distracted. I could hear Lucas babbling in the background.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I said quickly. “Text me where you want to meet for lunch. We’ll meet a little early so Lucas won’t get too cranky.”

  “Eleven thirty good for you, hooky?” she teased.

  “It’s not hooky!”

  After rearranging some of my appointments and pushing some off on other associates, I escaped the office a few minutes before eleven-thirty. The moment I spotted Emmy and Lucas in the restaurant I started feeling better. Lucas was happy and smiling and Emmy looked gorgeous in her long, pink strapless summer dress. Anyone looking at us that didn’t know us could have guessed that we were a happy family enjoying an afternoon together. I doubted that anyone looked at Emmy and guessed that she had some deep dark secrets and was emotionally damaged and sexually stalled. I doubted that they looked at me and guessed that I felt such deep shame and regret and was absolutely terrified of losing Emmy and Lucas. I doubted that they looked at Lucas and felt sorry for him because his parents were fucked up.

  After lunch, we went to the park and chased Lucas around the toddler playground and across the green grass. It was sunny and warm and every time I glimpsed Emmy smiling or laughing with the sun at her back making her shine like an angel, it caught my breath. I loved her. I really loved her. I was a fool for denying myself those feelings for so long.

  “Someone is tired,” I said, as Lucas sat down on the walkway and demanded to be picked up.

  “Yeah, I’m exhausted,” Emmy said.

  I gave her an artificial look of disgust and then picked Lucas up as I continued with the conversation we were having before Lucas’s demands to be carried.

  Smoothly, without any hesitation or proof of the apprehension I felt inside, I took Emmy’s hand in mine and continued to walk. Her hand was stiff in mine at first. She was distracted by it even though she tried to speak naturally, but after only a few minutes, she relaxed.

  I relaxed, too, but more than that, I hoped.

  Chapter Fourteen

  If I were on the Maury show, I would have zoomed around on the stage shouting “I told you” while laughing and indulging in the roar of the crowd. Claire would have run off stage to that grungy looking couch where so many other baby mamas have cried and Maury would go back there and try to soothe her while doing his best to squeeze another show out of her so they can find the father of her unborn child.

  But I wasn’t on Maury, and as far as I knew Maury didn’t do paternity testing before the baby was actually born. Half a show would be lost without an innocent child’s face on the big screen so the mother could shout about how many of the features are the accused father’s.

  Instead of a victory dance, I took the document to the shredder and shredded the fucker.

  I wanted to go home and hug my son and my wom—Emmy—but my schedule was pretty heavy, leaving me no wiggle room to leave early. I rarely worked late anymore. I took my work home with me and worked at the coffee table or dining room table. I wanted to spend as much time as possible with Lucas and Emmy. I even changed my schedule so that at least one day a week I only worked half a day so that I could spend more time at home. Em thought Lucas was my reason for the changes, and she was right, he was; but I don’t think she realized that she was the only other reason.

  I had not asked her about News Year’s Day yet. She was still having nightmares, and I was still sneaking in and giving her comfort in her sleep. Shamefully, I sometimes welcomed the nightmares so that I had an excuse to hold her. A couple of times I just made it out of the bed before she woke up completely. It was killing me not to be able to lay there with her every nigh
t, but I had to be patient. I had to give her a chance to find herself again before I swept in and changed everything.

  As long as my work schedule permitted it, I was going to go with her and Lucas to New Jersey Labor Day week. Emmy’s cousin Tabitha and their friend Leo invited us to spend the week at Leo’s house five blocks from the beach. If I was able to go, I was going to talk to her then for sure. I wanted to take her down to the beach alone and tell her how I felt. If she rejected me, I’d at least have the option of walking into the ocean and drowning myself.

  When I walked in the door that night, I tripped over one of Lucas’s toys. Emmy rushed out of the kitchen apologizing as she scooped up several toys and threw them in a toy box that seemed to dominate the living room. I couldn’t figure out how a one year old had accumulated so many damn toys.

  I opened the closet to stash my umbrella and half a dozen other things fell out. I managed to stuff everything back into the closet along with my umbrella, but I had a sneaky suspicion the door was going to burst open and vomit everything onto the floor.

  My frustration was mounting a little while later as I tried to find something to change into. The closet and both dressers were stuffed with clothes and what didn’t fit was stacked in baskets around the bedroom. Emmy tried to keep things as organized as possible, but there was only so much she could do in the limited space.

  After dinner I tried to work at the dining room table, but the table was too small. Like everything else in the apartment. Frustrated and aggravated, I told Emmy we needed to move. I thought I heard some apprehension in her one word answer, but a few of my papers fell off of the table and I was too busy fuming to address it. Besides, it was possible there was no apprehension at all. What could she possibly be apprehensive about? She didn’t think we’d stay in this small apartment forever, did she?

  “I’ll call an agent tomorrow,” I said.

  “Can I get you something before I go to bed?” she asked, lingering beside me. I wanted to reach out and pull her into my lap and bury my face in her hair and kiss her neck and ease my frustration.

  “No, I'm fine,” I said instead. “If I need anything, I can get it. Thanks.”