by Tiana Laveen
“Oh.” Emily tilted her head up and grinned, a cold gesture. “How kind of you.”
He grimaced and continued.
“Your mother was truly one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, Emily. As I got to know her, though, I discovered she was beautiful on the inside, too. She was kindhearted, whimsical, charming, and also quite witty. So, when you came to me months ago and mentioned the whole racism thing, wondering about me and your mother,” he shrugged, “I never saw her that way. I know it sounds cliché, but she was nice to people from all walks of life. I never heard her speak disparagingly about people of other races.”
“But she did use the word ‘nigger’ to describe Sasha’s mother. I never knew why she was upset with her, but I heard Mom call her that all the same. She wasn’t speaking to me, she was on the phone, but I heard her with my own ears, Dad. I now know the reason behind that, but I heard it nevertheless. Do you understand where I am going with this? You two must’ve had similar thoughts. A racist can’t be married to a nonracist, Dad. A Satanist can’t be married to a devoted Catholic. A staunch vegan who stops eating meat for spiritual beliefs can’t be married to someone who inhales steak and pork chops by the mile.”
“That wasn’t it. I think as I get further into this, you’ll understand. No, we did not share those beliefs, and even though she said that word, I still don’t believe your mother was a racist.”
“Neither do I, now that I know what you did.” She seethed. “And trust me, I am not blaming my own bullshit in my life on you and Mom. However, it is telling that I heard those things being said and not one time did you tell her to stop it.”
“You don’t understand, Emily. I will get to all that in a minute. Can I please finish without your interruptions?” She hissed, crossed her legs, and began to pivot in her chair. “The problems arose in our marriage after the miscarriages. That was the beginning of the end. It had nothing to do with your mother’s background, her parents, incompatibility, none of that. There was a deterioration in the marriage after several miscarriages. It changed her. Forever.”
Emily arched a brow. “Miscarriages? Multiple? How many miscarriages? I only knew about one.”
Dad sighed once again, briefly closing his eyes.
“Before your birth, your mother had suffered from at least three miscarriages. After you were born, we tried to have another child, but it was impossible. There were at least three more miscarriages. She was mentally spent and I was emotionally tired of having to keep picking up the pieces.”
“But Mom said—”
“It doesn’t matter what your mother said because it wasn’t the truth.”
“Why so many? What was going on? Was she drinking?”
“No, not at that time. Her drinking came into play afterward, long afterward. She had trouble conceiving, Emily, because your mother used to…” He faltered. “She used to do things that caused scar tissue. She had contracted Chlamydia at one point and didn’t realize it. It was not found in time before it wreaked havoc on her fallopian tubes. She had not contracted it from me. It predated me.”
Emily glared at her father, not believing her ears.
“How dare you sit there and try to imply that my mother was sleeping around with no regard.”
He shook his head. “I never said she was a bad person, Emily. She was, however, promiscuous due to looking for love in all the wrong places. She’d contracted an illness that was left untreated, so, it caused irreparable health issues.”
“Are you serious right now? You’re really trying to do this?”
“I never caused her pain over this. I hadn’t been a choir boy myself, but she beat herself up over it all the time once she found out it had affected her ability to have children. You were a miracle to even be here. That’s why we doted on you so much. Several doctors had told us she could never conceive due to the pelvic inflammatory disease, even after the infection was cleared. And then, well,” he shrugged with a big smile, “you came. Funny, we weren’t even trying at that point. We had decided to take a break from it all.”
“Fine. Let’s say I believe you and this isn’t just a smear campaign you’ve launched to make yourself look better. What does any of this have to do with Samantha and Sasha?”
“Well, I’m getting to that.” He held up his finger. “Contrary to what you may believe, Emily, your mother was socially awkward at times. She never really felt she belonged because of the way my family treated her. They ostracized and alienated her. After you were born, they were kinder, but again, the damage was done. It wasn’t just that, either. Your mother had had a hard time as a child and uh, some thought patterns are just hard to undo, even with intensive therapy. She did receive some privately, I found out later.” He clasped his hands together. “There was something your mother needed, something no one could give her. That’s the reason she’d been so unrestrained, actually. She was looking for love in all the wrong places, as they say. As you know, as everyone knew, she was drop-dead gorgeous, so unfortunately, that made her receive attention from some male suitors who didn’t always have her best interests at heart. Your mother’s life changed completely after you were born. She was head over heels in love with you. You were the apple of her eye. However, adults need adult friends, too.”
Emily took several sips of her water, not certain she wanted to hear the rest. She imagined things could go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes.
“Your mother wanted friends. I was gone a lot of the time at the office or traveling for business and she would get lonely. I would encourage her to join groups, clubs and what not, but it never seemed to work out. She didn’t have many friends at all. Unfortunately, women were often jealous of her or afraid their husbands would take an interest in her. Just silly, ridiculous shit.” Emily rarely heard her father swear, so the way he spoke surprised her. “So when she met Samantha, they really hit it off.
“Samantha was kindhearted, had a bit of a rough background as well, and before long, the two were going out places, getting their nails done, shopping and taking you two girls along. I had no idea about all of this until your mother told me about it one day out of the blue, but I was happy for her. I hadn’t met Samantha yet, mind you—just heard of this Black woman with a little girl who you seemed to take a liking to as well.
“Fast-forward a few months, I happened to be home and met Samantha.” Dad took a deep breath. “She was physically stunning.”
“But before now you told me she wasn’t your type. What a liar you are.”
“We’ve already established that I lied to you about it. You’ve lied about things, too. Every human being on planet Earth has. Now let’s move on,” he stated tersely. “Anyway, that has always been a weakness of mine, Emily. I will admit it.” He pointed to himself. “All human beings, including your father, have something that makes us a bit less than perfect, okay? I enjoyed the company of beautiful women. It made me feel important, wanted, powerful. I didn’t particularly have a type, per se, but I knew beauty when I saw it. Anyway, let’s backtrack for a second. Your mother was obsessed with this thought that because she never gave me a son to carry on the family name, I could never truly love her. I have no idea where she got that idea. I was happy to have you, didn’t give a damn about you being a boy or not.”
Emily believed his words to be true. Father had never made her feel as though she should’ve been a boy or that he wished to have a son. He treated her as if she were the best gift he’d ever received.
“But I did have this thing for beautiful women,” he continued. “My mother used to make jokes about it when I was just a little boy, saying that I always looked at the pretty women and smiled wherever we went. Being a man of means, I was rarely turned away. Women liked how I approached them. I didn’t have to lie often about my marital status. They wanted the jewelry, vacations, cars, furs, their rent paid.” He tossed up his hands and laughed.
“And you were good-looking and had money. Goody goody for you.”
&
nbsp; “Well, I wouldn’t say I was the most handsome man in the world, but I would venture to lean on the side of charming and was able to use my assets to my advantage. For instance, I’m tall, well built. I have a nice head of hair, even in my old age.” He smiled at her but she didn’t smile back. “I would try to accentuate those traits.”
“Okay, are we finished talking about what a sexy, affluent Don Juan you were back in the 1990s? Because I’d like to know why you did what you did.”
“Samantha, I discovered, was living from paycheck to paycheck in her little apartment. My tried and true ways to get a woman’s attention didn’t work on her. In fact, she literally became angered, making it clear my wife was her friend and customer and she’d never do such a thing. I was still quite young at the time, so bullheaded, and when it came to things like this—rejection—I was, well, stupid. There’s just no other way to slice it. Rather than leave well enough alone, Samantha became some sort of a preoccupation for me.”
“Why?”
“Because she was the only one who’d ever said no to me.” A brief silence stretched between them. “That intrigued me. It upset me as well. As time went on, though, my motives changed.” Emily looked at her father and, for some reason, it felt like the air was slowly leaving the room. “I was now jealous of the relationship your mother was having with Samantha. I was afraid.” He hung his head. Seconds passed, but they felt like minutes. “I was afraid your mother would realize that there was life outside of me and leave me. See, the miscarriages beat up her self-esteem even more, but I realized that she was now even more dependent upon me. I had friends who were divorcing left and right. I didn’t want my marriage to end and despite what you may think, I loved your mother.”
When he looked at her once again, his eyes were full of tears. She tried to compose herself, remain calm.
“I stood up against my father for your mother, Emily. That was something us Windsor boys just didn’t do. I loved her just that much and refused to be bullied or have the threat of being disowned hovering over my head. You said that your mother was afraid I would leave? No, honey, it was the other way around. I was scared out of my mind. She was tired of the cheating. She was tired of my overworking; she was just tired. We both were just exhausted. Her mood swings, the drinking, the sleeping pills, it was crazy.
“She had affairs to try and make me react, leave, do something. But I just turned a blind eye to them because I knew they were acts of revenge. She never loved those men she was with. She loved me.” He pointed to his chest. “It was a cry for help. We were a mutual mess, Emily. Your parents were completely fucked-up.” He laughed dismally. “Is that raw and truthful enough for ya?” Dad’s East Coast accent was now dripping all over his words. Long gone was his class and elegance. He was passionate. Infuriated. Emotional. Angry. Hurt.
“It was all an act,” Emily murmured over a forced breath.
“Yes. Ignore all the wonderful articles, the photos of us in magazines. Toss all that aside. The truth was quite different. We were miserable. Money didn’t buy happiness. I wanted that relationship between Samantha and your mother busted up, over with, final because she was encouraging your mother to leave, to take you away from me if I didn’t stop what I was doin’. She was giving me an ultimatum. See, Samantha was messing up everything. Or at least, that’s how I saw it at the time.
“Your mother was getting braver. She was talking to me in a different way. She was dressing different. She’d slowed down the drinking, too. Samantha had some strange power over your mother. It was the oddest thing to me. As strange as it sounds, that was the final straw. That’s when panic set in. I had lost my mind. I decided to switch gears. I told your mother that Samantha had been flirting with me to try and get her to get rid of her. At the time, it seemed the only way to save my marriage. I never knew your mother would go so far as to get the poor woman fired from her job. Emily, you have to believe me. I just figured she’d fire her from picking up the clothes and stop the friendship—not getting her blackballed. She told me that Samantha was stealing from her, too, but now I’m pretty sure that that never happened. It was just a way for your mother to rationalize it all…I think your mother believed she was telling the truth about that. Some jewelry and a couple coats did in fact come up missing, but I know in my heart it wasn’t because of Samantha. I had no idea your mother had done those things.”
“I can’t believe this. So, you mean to tell me that though initially you were in fact trying to sleep with this woman, you stopped that course of action and then changed it up so that it was nothing more than a setup to see if she’d actually do it so that you could report it back to Mom?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sick. You’re completely crazy. I didn’t think this could get any worse, but I was wrong, so wrong.” She shook her head vehemently.
“Emily, you’ve never been married. It’s hard sometimes. It’s a crazy ride. I had an image to uphold and I couldn’t get a divorce. Too much was on the line. What you don’t understand is—”
“How. Dare. You,” she spat. “I have been on the phone with Sasha practically daily. We’ve been going out, trying to get to know one another, partly due to my own damn guilt, but also because I missed the hell out of her. You not only ruined Samantha’s life and me and her daughter’s friendship, you caused Sasha to have to stop taking gymnastic lessons because her mother could no longer afford it after Mom blackballed her. This is all your fault. Every bit of it.”
“I did not know your mother was doing these things. That is the truth, Emily.”
“Get out.” Emily’s voice trembled as she jumped up from her seat. “I will turn in my thirty-day resignation. I can’t work here anymore, no, not for someone like you. Oh my God.”
Like some tree suddenly growing from the root, her father stood tall, his chin held high, his expression stern.
“Stop reacting and just listen. If this is the reason why you abandon ship, that is a cowardly maneuver on your part. No one, including your own father, should force you out of a job that you love with loyal clients that rely upon you. I always taught you to first have all the facts before making any life-altering decisions.”
“Don’t talk to me about what you taught me. You taught me a lot of shit that this conversation doesn’t demonstrate at all.” She grabbed her purse and tucked it under her arm. “If you won’t leave, I will.”
“Do you have all the facts, Emily?” he questioned calmly as he crossed his arms over his chest. She paused and glared at him. “Right before I walked in here, I was able to talk to Ms. Samantha Tabar in Tampa, Florida. I have been trying to reach her for several days. I had a lot of time to think while I was away, and ended up hiring someone to track her down.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me for her number? You’ve already admitted guilt.”
“I didn’t want to ask you or Sasha for the information. I wanted to do it all myself, show the initiative. I firstly apologized to her and let her know that though I was very much an adult at the time, I had no idea that my horrible actions had created such a domino effect. I then told her that no amount of money or apologies would alleviate the shame, ridicule, hardship, and anger that my actions had caused her family. But I was determined to try because of my little girl.” His voice cracked. “My little girl made it quite clear what had happened and what I’d done.
“I played a childish, desperate game and it hurt you. It hurt Sasha, it hurt your mother. It hurt Samantha and the rest of their family. I then proceeded to send her a very generous check, though she’d asked me not to. I found out she’d been trying to purchase a house in Tampa, but her credit wasn’t the best. I hooked her up with one of my Floridian buddies as well, to help get her credit repaired, but in the interim, she has enough cash, from me, to buy a very nice home of her choosing.”
Emily’s heart rate began to slow to a more normal pace. She could breathe again.
“I also apologized profusely, let her know that my wife—my de
ar, beautiful, complicated, loving wife—had made a mistake. She was hurt and if she were still alive, she’d apologize, too. Samantha was sad to hear that she was dead, even after all that had happened.” Tears flowed from his eyes, and for a tough moment, he didn’t speak. “I had to tell her about the accident, how your mother inadvertently took too many sleeping pills one afternoon, just days from your birthday that she’d been planning, then never woke up. I explained that I’d been too much of a chicken to ever admit to my wife that it was me who’d backstabbed her, not her one and only friend, Samantha Tabar. I asked that she not tell Sasha of the amends I attempted to make until I at least spoke to you first. She agreed to that and told me that she had forgiven me a long time ago, though it had proved difficult, because Jesus forbids her to do anything less than that. She thanked me for my efforts, but I know there’s nothing I can do to fully repair the heartache I caused. I’m not an atrocious person, Emily. I just did an atrocious thing.”
They looked at one another, neither moving, as if frozen in time.
“If you wish to still leave the company, fine Emily, but at least now you have all the specifics and can make an informed decision. Yes, I am guilty, but I am not that same man from way back then. He’s been dead a long time now, but regardless, I am still your father. Your mother’s death subdued me, humbled me. Maturity and watching you struggle with your health all put things into a brand-new perspective. You were born with a weak heart. Sometimes I blamed myself for that.” Emily dropped her gaze. “Here I was, a new father, holding this precious baby girl. You were a miracle, then your mother and I are told that you’ve got some heart trouble, and it could take you out of here. That was sobering.
“Once your mother passed away, it all had to stop. I no longer could just live for me. I had to live for my daughter, make better choices. I stopped working over seventy hours a week and spent time with my little girl. The best part of me.” He placed his fingers over his eyes and, she imagined, died a bit inside as he sobbed. “I pushed aside some of my resentment toward my father and enjoyed him for the last few years before he too passed on. I built better relationships with my brothers. I began to go out to the Hudson and ride that boat, the one I named after you.” She smiled sadly and nodded. “Remember? I’d take you out there with me sometimes.”