The Proposition 4: The Ferro Family

by H. M. Ward

She places her palms together and smiles demurely at me. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear, but then you returned. So here we are, back where we started. How many times do you need to be incarcerated, Miss Raymond? Because, believe me, I can make it happen again.” She stares me down like she knows what I’ve done.

  I’m not losing Bryan again, not because of this crazy bitch. It’s bad enough that he’s sick—I won’t lose what little time we might have left because of her. I smile at her and step forward. It’s a ballsy move. Constance Ferro has castrated more men than I can count.

  Doing anything like this is suicide, but I won’t back down. I have to know. “Why do you hate me? What is it about me that you find so appalling that I can’t be friends with your nephew? Is it my family? My mother? The fact that I’m poor? Well, I’m not poor anymore. I’m not here for your money and I’m not leaving this time.” My body is tense, my jaw locked.

  Constance is serenely scary. She steps toward me so we’re toe to toe. “You’ll always be poor, dear. Your newly acquired fortune will be frittered away, because that’s what new money does. You don’t know how to manage an estate and soon everything will be gone, if it isn’t already.”

  I hate that she’s right. I hate that Neil’s already made her prediction come true. I bite, “What do you want?”

  “I want you to leave.”

  “Why? I never did anything to you.” My voice is level, like hers—frighteningly even. “You had me arrested after your son sold me his car.”

  Her thin eyebrows lift like she’s shocked, but not really. With complete false sincerity, she says, “I didn’t realize he’d sold it. Trivial things happen sometimes, but in the end it doesn’t matter. You people are all the same—parasites—and I’ll deal with you the way we’ve dealt with the rest. This is your last warning. Leave before I make you.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  She gets in my face. “I’ll destroy you.”

  I laugh, because I mean it. I mean every word I say. “Go ahead and try. There’s nothing left to destroy.” I go to push past her to leave, but she won’t let me.

  Constance steps in front of me and speaks into my ear. “I know you saw us. Why you won’t admit it is beyond me, but I won’t be battered by some no name, bastard.” She’s livid. Her eyes blaze like they may actually ignite. She thinks I have dirt on her and that I’m manipulating her.

  Ignoring this new information, I growl, “I’ve never said one bad word about you, despite everything you’ve done to me. Bryan thinks I cheated on him. That was you—don’t deny it.”

  “Yes, it was. I told Jon and Jocelyn that Bryan was in trouble and they assisted me to make sure you left and didn’t come back, but here you are again, you roach, threatening me. How dare you!”

  She is either insane or she thinks I saw something that I wasn’t supposed to see. I can’t tip my hand that I have no idea what she’s talking about. I didn’t see her do anything damning. I evade her again, poking at the past. “So, how’d you do it? Fake pictures and what—Jos dressed up as me?”

  She rolls her eyes. “An actor—a look-a-like. Don’t be stupid. I wouldn’t subject my own family to such a thing. But you, you wander back in here like you can drop that bomb whenever you want. I will kill you, if you say a word about it.” She’s deadly serious.

  But so am I. “Right back at you.”

  Our narrowed eyes remain locked. She knows I killed Victor, I can tell. I don’t know how she knows, but she does. My heart is slamming into my ribs so hard that I can barely breathe. The only reason she’s not reported it is because she thinks I know something that I don’t. What does she think I saw back then?

  I keep my expression neutral. “So, let’s agree to hate each other and remain silent on the matters at hand. Leave me and Bryan alone. I’ll be gone soon, anyway.” From the look on her face, I know she can’t fathom why I’d leave.

  Then it hits me—he hasn’t told any of them. No one knows what’s wrong or how sick he is. My heart aches for him. He can’t continue to do this alone, no matter how much he wants to—I’ll force him to confide in Jon if I have to, but Bryan needs someone, even if it isn’t me.

  Her eyes dip to the ground before returning to meet mine. She’s pleased, but trying not to show it. “And this separation, your leaving my nephew, is it forever?”

  Death is permanent, so yeah, it’s forever. I nod. The lump in my throat is too big to speak. Constance turns on her heel and storms out before another word is said.

  CHAPTER 14

  Although I feel like a louse for doing it, I’m nosy. I dig through Bryan’s bathroom looking at the pills and googling the labels. The problem is that so many of these are used for so many things. The other problem is that I don’t know which pills he’s actually taking. Some of these bottles look untouched. I wonder why, but have no clue.

  I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but there has to be something here that can tell me what’s the matter with him. Maybe there is a doctor’s note or some lab results lying around, not that I’d know how to read them. I frown and look around again. No one has bothered me since my showdown with Constance a few hours ago. I thought Bryan would be home by now but he’s not.

  After glancing around the room, I head over to the dresser. Now, I’m being beyond nosy. This is wrong. It’s a total invasion of privacy. I’d never do this to anyone, but I can’t stand it anymore. I have to know what’s going on with him. A small part of me wonders what Constance Ferro thinks I saw all those years ago. The thought bounces through my mind like a ping pong ball, but vanishes when I find his sock drawer.

  I stop snooping. What I find nearly breaks me to pieces.

  Bryan kept an old love letter I’d given him. I opened it without realizing what it was. I recognized my handwriting and that I’d written it, but I didn’t remember the contents of the note until I opened it and by then it was too late. Seeing the words scrawled across the page was a sucker punch to the stomach. It knocked the wind out of me.

  What do you think of marriage? I’d asked him.

  The conversation that followed wells up in my memory as tears form in my eyes. My chest aches so badly that I lay on my side and snuggle my face into his pillow. I refuse to cry and drift off to sleep instead. When someone shakes my shoulder, I startle and sit up quickly—arm out—and clothesline my assailant.

  Bryan.

  “So, you still like to kill people when you wake up?” He chokes and rubs his neck. “I hope Neil startles the hell out of you every day.” He laughs and sits next to me. How he can say things like that, as if nothing were wrong.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know. That’s what makes you fun. Your randomness.” He smiles. “What are you doing here? Is this a booty call?”

  I laugh and punch him in the arm lightly. “No, I just…” I look at him and see how sallow his skin has become. It’s like a color-sucking vampire got hold of him and sucked the warm tones from his body. There’s a grayish cast that covers his flesh from head to toe. “Are you okay? You look a little more, uh, wiped out than usual.”

  Bryan looks away. He doesn’t answer. For a while neither of us speaks and then he says it. Finally, after all this time, he tells me. “Hallie, I was with the doctors all afternoon.” He touches his fingers to his brow and pushes his hair back as he exhales. “I’m sick. You already know that, but I haven’t told anyone what’s going on. My family is too assholey to notice, and I haven’t wanted to talk about it, but I’d like to talk now, if you’re able to listen. I didn’t want to dump this on you, I swear to God—I promised myself that I wouldn’t—but now that you’re here and today was today, well… I have to say it to someone.”

  His voice sounds fractured. It has that tense tone like he’s about to yell, scream, or cry. If he cries, I’ll die inside. I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough. I’m not, but I nod and say yes.

  Then Bryan tells me everything, and by the time he’s done I feel like
a hollow shell. He leaves nothing out and tells me about these headaches and the dizzy spells. He tells me that it’s been going on for ages, but he ignored it. He and Jon used to party pretty hard, so he assumed it was from that. There was always something to blame, but eventually the pain became so bad that there was no logical excuse anymore, so he finally saw his doctor.

  That’s how he found out about the tumor.

  Bryan sleeps next to me that night, and I remain in his bed, wrapped in his arms. I don’t go home. I don’t call Maggie. I just want to be with Bryan and never let go. There’s a growth in his skull that’s causing his pain. It creates blinding headaches, vision distortions, weakness, and it will eventually kill him. To make matters worse, it’s inoperable. The whole situation is one of those freak things that happens to one in a million people, and there’s nothing to do about it. If the cancer had been anywhere else, they’d be able to help him.

  Bryan explained how they tried to control it with medicine and slow the growth, but today he found out their efforts were in vain. The tumor has grown, explaining his noticeable increase in pain. If they operate, it will kill him. It’s not in a spot where chemo will help and other options are dismal. Today he found out his days are numbered and he knows exactly what that number is.

  I’m going to lose him. Bryan Ferro is dying and there isn’t a damned thing I can do to save him.

  COMING SOON:

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  ~LIMITED EDITION BONUS MATERIAL~

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  SECRETS & LIES

  ***UNEDITED ***

  *** COPY NOT FINAL***

  I get dressed in Beth’s room because my horrible roommate will figure out what’s going on and ruin it for me. I’ve only been here a few days, but she’s already turned half the dorm against me. Well, maybe that’s an overstatement, but it feels like it.

  Beth pulls out a red dress from her closet. The neckline is a deep V and the fabric is slinky. “Try this. It’s my lucky dress. Guys will slobber all over you.”

  I take it and look for a place to change, but the room is a box. There’s no privacy. Beth notices my hesitation and walks over to the closet. She pulls a door, leaving it halfway open. “Change back there. How are you this old and this shy?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing turned out the way I thought it would. That’s all.” I strip my tee shirt off and slip the dress over my head before stepping out of my jeans.

  “You realize that you’re going to have sex with a random guy and that means he’s going to see you naked, right? You can’t act like a virgin or you’ll freak him out.” I hear the bedsprings give and know without looking that she’s sitting down.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Uh, you can’t hide behind doors and under sheets. You have to strut around like you own that sinfully curvy body. I wish I had hips. I’m assless. It’s really sad.” Beth looks up when I step around the door. The dress is skintight. I tug at the fabric and try to pull the hemline down. If I bend over, my butt will peek out.

  Beth jumps up and races over. “Holy shit, you look hot! Do you see this?” She pulls me in front of the mirror with a huge smile on her face.

  “I don’t know. You don’t think that it makes me look too big?”

  Beth gives me a face that says she’d kill for my body, but it’s hard to believe. She’s cute and I feel bulky standing next to her. “You have it all, tits and ass, plus a tiny waist. Besides, sexiness is a state of mind. If you think you’re sexy, you will be. It’s confidence. Put on a fake persona tonight and toss your self-image issues out the window. We can blame your mother for ruining your life another time.”

  Beth helps me with my hair and make-up. By the time she’s done, I don’t recognize myself. My hair falls in silky waves and my lips are dark red. I look like a model. I look like someone else. It feels really weird to look into a mirror and not recognize the image staring back. I want to back out, but I can’t now. Beth is ready to go. She throws on a cute dress with a frilly skirt that comes to her knee.

  “Why do you get to dress like that?” I’m practically whining.

  Beth slips on her little black shoes and explains. “It’s for comparison purposes. You look like the slutty one when I’m wearing a little church dress. In other words, all the guys will look at you first and ignore me, which is what we want.”

  After we’re ready, we head to her car, and make our way toward the other side of the city. For a second, I worry about what will happen when I actually get there, but Beth’s driving is a deterrent. Soon enough, I’m taking way too many deep breaths, and trying not to scream. I grab hold of the oh-shit strap by accident as she goes down a ramp insanely fast.

  Beth apologizes. “I don’t usually hit stuff. I promise.” Somehow that didn’t make me feel better. I just nod. “Plus this is a Volvo. You have my brothers to thank for that. They told my parents that it was the safest car out there. They got cute little convertibles for graduation. I got a soccer mom car. Bastards. So what do you drive?”

  “Nothing at the moment. I thought things would be within walking distance.”

  “Yeah, they’re really not, unless twenty miles back and forth to the mall doesn’t faze you. We’ll have to go car shopping one day.”

  Sure, if I live that long. By the time we get the bar, I’m a ball of nerves. My stomach churns and I feel sick. Suddenly, I’m standing next to the Volvo in the parking lot, trying not to vomit. “I can’t do this.” I’m ready to jump back in the car, but she locks the doors before I can yank mine open again.

  “Yes, you can. You want to get over Matt, right?” I nod. “Then you know what to do. Listen, I don’t want to pressure you into anything. If you decide not to ask anyone, then don’t. But we drove all the way here. Let’s at least have a good time before we head back. Okay?”

  I can do that. I can have a good time and laugh even though I wish I were at home, on my mom’s couch, crying like a baby. No, it’s fine. I can totally do this, and Beth’s right. Just because I go inside, doesn’t mean I have to go through with it. I can chicken out.

  Beth and I walk in and, instantly, I feel eyes on me. They travel over my body, overtly sizing me up. I won’t be shy and timid. Not tonight. As Beth and I head toward a table, a guy looks me over and I don’t mind so much. Being desired feels good. We slip into a table and order some drinks. We sip and talk about nothing for a while. I’m not seeing the right guy and I don’t want to do it with someone that doesn’t give me a good vibe. I don’t want a pushy guy. Actually, I prefer shy guys and realize this whole wanna do me? thing might not work on someone who is shy.

  Josh tries to join us, but Beth shoos him away, so he takes up residence at another table that is quickly filled with women. How did he do that? He smiles a lot and has this lazy stance that acts like girl-nip. They go crazy for it.

  After two hours, I’m ready to call it quits. “There’s no one here that’s even close to my type.”

  Beth slurps the bottom of her daiquiri. “He doesn’t have to be your type.”

  “Are you seriously advocating that I do it with an ug-o?”

  Beth snorts and nearly chokes. “No! That’s not what I meant.”

  “Good, otherwise I’d have to worry about you trying to pawn me off on one of the janitors in the dorm.”

  She grins wickedly. “That was my plan for tomorrow night.”

  “Loser,” I tease and shake my head.

  “I’m not the one who can’t get laid,” she laughs. It’s weird how fast she feels lik
e a friend. I kick her under the table. “Hey!”

  “I can so. I just want him to be…” my eyes drift across the room and I see him—Mr. Right. A guy is sitting alone at a back-corner table, wearing a red ball cap. His face is downcast and there’s a sketch pad in front of him. My voice dies in my throat as I stare. He’s perfect.

  Beth turns around in her seat. “Seriously?”

  I pull my eyes off of him just as he looks up. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing, if you like that serial killer vibe.”

  “He’s an artist.”

  “Ten bucks says there’s nothing in that sketch pad.”

  I don’t like her bashing Mystery Man. “No, he’s not using that as a ploy. He’s real.”

  Beth is trying not to laugh. “You are so naïve.”

  “I am not.” I say it dreamily as I watch him move the pencil across the paper, and then flip it over, smudging the page with the eraser.

  “Okay, so let’s make a bet. If he’s a fake, I win and you have to buy me a piece of cake. If he’s a real artist, then you win and you have to ask him. Deal?” I don’t answer. Instead, I squirm in my seat and try not to look at him. “What’s the matter? If he’s the artsy type, then you found what you were looking for? If he isn’t, I get cake. It’s a great bet!”

  “She won’t do it.” Josh suddenly appears. He’s standing next to Beth and smiles at me in that smug way that only truly spoiled men can pull off. “She doesn’t have it in her.”

  “You’re an asshole.” My gaze flicks up and meets his, while Beth laughs.

  “I know. I’m okay with it. But you’re a nice girl and you’ll stay that way. There’s no way you can work up enough nerve to walk over there and ask that guy to sleep with you.”

  “Yeah? Well, watch me.” Who said that? My pride is whooping and slapping me on my back.