by JJ Giles
She lowered the lid on the toilet and sat beside of him. “Brian,” she said softly as if her words might linger in the air and Cheryl might hear them rumbling around when she got home. “I worked in this house since I was twelve years old and that was sixty years ago. If you repeat anything I tell you, your mama’s gonna whip me up one side the street and down the other.”
“Whip you?”
“Yeah, Boy. You was just a baby when that happened.”
“Molly?” he gasped. That was unbelievable.
“You know I raised you and your daddy both. I nursed ‘ya both. Apparently, your mama didn’t know that’s what I was hired to do and she came in the nursery one evening and Honeychild, she lost her mind to see you eatin’ at me. She grabbed you away from me and threw you on the floor and started screaming...you was screaming, I was screaming. Your daddy came in and saw her with one of his belts working me over. Right then and there he grabbed her up and told her if she ever again laid a hand on me she was finished around here. Slapped her up bad,” Molly said shaking her head. “I never seen your daddy that angry at anybody. And I don’t think she ever got over the shame of it. He grabbed you up and took us both to his car. You finished your dinner on the way to my house and he begged me not to quit. Was practically crying wanting me not to quit. But I don’t think your mama ever got over the shame of it, Honey. And if your daddy don’t live here no more, I won’t be around much longer, either. You was just a newborn baby and she was only eighteen. She still don’t speak to me.”
“Damn, I never knew that.”
“I’m sure you can figure out that your mama musta been pregnant before they were married.”
“A long time ago.”
“Your granddaddy brought her home one night and she never left this house again.”
Curiously, Brian peered into her sagging eyes. “He brought her home? Dad didn’t know her before that?”
“I don’t think so.”
“It was an arranged marriage?”
Molly shrugged. “If that’s what you wanna call it,” she whispered of the cute little hooker who had the old man so turned on he never again went to work early in the morning.
“I’ll be damned,” Brian whispered. “I never knew that.” Forced to marry each other because she got pregnant. He thought of all the women he’d screwed in his life and if one of them had ended up pregnant, he wondered where he’d be right now. Perhaps the same place as his father. Miserable. “So it’s not that they don’t love each other, they don’t even like each other, do they?”
“I don’t think so, Baby. I don’t even remember them sleeping in the same bed. Soon as you was born, your daddy had you sleeping in his bed in the master room. Your granddaddy moved into the room next door next to this one.” But Brian wasn’t following the conversation. She saw his confusion.
“But your daddy was crazy about you, Boy,” she said with a hearty laugh. “He’d come home from work and sit in the rocker and watch me nursin’ you. I showed him how to burp you and change your diapers. He took you to bed with him every night. Insisted on you sleeping with him. Get up in the middle of the night and feed you and change your diapers. Good man. Did the same for Cherry.”
Brian was just a little dizzy. It didn’t seem they were talking about the same man.
“How’s your uncle Alex? Lord, Child, those two were a handful when they were babies. Alex would scream bloody murder if I put him down for a minute to change your daddy.”
“He’s alright,” Brian whispered off-handedly.
“He still sends me gifts at Christmas,” she said warmly.
“Around here you’re everybody’s mommy, aren’t you?”
“I got eight a my own, the eight your granddaddy had and the two of you. I’ve raised eighteen babies, Boy. I love everyone of ‘em.”
It certainly felt like love and he slowly rose to pull her into his arms again. “I’m gonna go lay down for a little bit.”
“I’ll fix you something to eat, Baby. The kitchen staff took off a little while ago.”
“I’m alright,” he whispered as he kissed her soft cheek. “I’ll find something.” Feeling weighted, he dragged out of his mother’s rooms to his father’s.
Without will, he melted into the stray shafts of sunlight pouring through the naked tree limbs onto the velvet comforter. It was incomprehensible that his mother was out partying a few hours after he thought she was wrecked. It was also unbelievable that he walked out on Morgan. On the tenth anniversary of the day she took him home with her. And saved his life.
* * * *
Morgan lulled on the verandah with her Great Danes, Fame and Fortune at her side. Brian purchased them a few years ago since she refused the installation of security cameras on the property. She settled for jaws of death when he wasn’t around, but she knew he installed the cameras anyway.
She sat merely brooding refusing to get drunk over this. Somehow she knew that Brian had run home to mommy to protect her from the big bad wolf who had moved out. Must have a terrible relationship with his father. It seemed obvious on the surface. But things were never that obvious.
“Ciao, Bella.” It was the soft, Italian voice from her second favorite man, the parish priest.
Quickly, she turned, and smiled. “Dad. What brings you out here today?” she asked happily with a kiss to his cheek.
“Are you kidding, Morgan? I love this day. It’s your birthday.”
Tears flushed to her eyes. “That was forty years ago,” she said dismally.
“I remember it clearly. A beautiful woman, a pious woman who refused to miss Mass just because she was in labor about to have a baby came to Mass that morning anyway. Sat through Mass in labor and by the time Mass was over, it was too late to make it to the hospital.”
“You tell this story every year,” she whispered fondly.
“You were the only baby ever born on my altar. On Easter morning, no less,” he whispered. “I knew you were gonna be something special.”
Tightly she grasped his hand and urged him to sit with her. “And you baptized my naked little ass before the medics had me cleaned up.”
“Yes, I did,” he whispered. “God sends His little angels in all kinds of different ways. But we did it again a few months later just to be sure. You were the only one who never hollered at me.”
Broadly, she smiled. “I appreciate you remembering me. I hope you’ll stay for dinner.”
“Dinner? I thought you and Mouse would be out tonight.”
Her head dropped into her hands. “I think he left me.”
The old priest sat stunned for a moment. “Left you?”
“I told you his parents are in the middle of a crisis. Apparently, he thinks he needs to get emotionally involved. They sound to me like two people who are better off apart.”
“I can’t believe that. I’ve known him for ten years, and the times he’s talked about his family he didn’t seem too fond of them.”
She shrugged. “He saw his mom beat up about three weeks ago and he’s been deteriorating ever since. I guess his dad moved out last night.”
“That’s a good thing if he can’t control himself,” the priest said.
“That’s what I thought. Obviously, Brian disagrees. Told me to shut the fuck up because I couldn’t possibly know what I’m talking about. I wish to hell my stepfather had moved out before he murdered my mother, but no. He had to hang around long enough to beat her to death. Brian thinks that everyone should learn to get along and be happy.”
“Why doesn’t his mother move out?”
“No shit. That’s what I’m wondering. And guess what else I found out today. His mom called this morning to say that his father was missing. Brian got worried that he’d been kidnapped. Get that. His family has enough money to worry about being kidnapped? Kinda blew me away.”
“Interesting,” he whispered. “So if his mother wanted to move out, money wouldn’t be the problem, would it?”
Morgan shrugged. �
��Unless the old man doesn’t let her have any. But Brian’s been asking her to come stay here...at least for awhile.” Dripping with sarcasm, she added, “But she wants to stay home in case her husband comes back. Who’s fucking who here?”
“Fascinating. And Brian left you over this?”
“I woke up with this on my finger this morning.” She shoved her hand in his face. “He comes back from his parents' house furious and then starts screaming at me. Shoved me up against the wall. Went upstairs and put his shit in a pillow case and stormed out. Stormed out after he told me he’s getting married with or without me. Right here in the gardens,” she said angrily.
“Oh, shit,” he whispered. “This is serious.”
“I think so. I tried to call him a little while ago, but of course, he’s not picking up.”
Father Romeo Romanelli drew in a deep breath. “Did you refuse to marry him again?”
“He didn’t give me the chance. He was so furious and started in on me. I don’t think he knows what he’s angry at. I’ve just about come to the conclusion I have to tell him why I can’t get married...but I’m scared. So...if he leaves me over my stupid shit or their stupid shit, what does it matter? He’s still gone.”
“Honey, I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”
Quietly, she huffed. “Listen. If I found out he was a murderer, I wouldn’t be hanging around. I certainly don’t expect him to.”
“Morgan, there were circumstances,” he pleaded.
“Yeah...circumstances,” she growled. “I hope God’s as forgiving as you are. But what the hell. All of my friends and family are in Hell. It might not be such a bad place.”
Sadly, he shook his head. “If it weren’t for that, would you marry him?”
“Are you kidding? Ten years ago tonight I would have flown him to Vegas to get married...the night I found him sitting on the curb in front of the club. Broke,” she said wistfully. “He looked like he was about fifteen, had a fake ID to prove he was twenty one. He was actually twenty-four by then, but no one believed it because he has that sweet baby face. Had a fake ID to make him younger and more believable.
“He was so damned cute,” she whispered. “Sat there all night watching me. Wasn’t at all bothered by the shit going down on the stage. But he didn’t have the guts to approach me, either, although he put down every other bitch that went to him. When they brought out the birthday cake, I motioned for him to come to me. He fell on his knees at my feet.
“I fed him a few bites of cake and ice cream and let him finish my wine. And then I told him to go outside and stand by my car...my first cool car, a triple black lacquer Corvette.” With such fond affection, she smiled. “An hour later he was still standing there. I’d never done anything like that before but I brought him back here with me. Whatever he was doing with his life ended that day. He never wanted to do anything except what I was doing.”
“Why not, Morgan? Who wouldn’t want to come home with you?”
Genuinely flattered, she playfully sneered at the compliment.
“I’ve talked to him about it several times,” Father began. “He’s very proud that you even care to try to help people, Morgan. That you have so much success with it pleases him greatly. He knows you started out as a corporate prostitute, too.”
“Yeah,” she said dismally. “So why can’t he just be happy with the way things are?”
“Honey, even though you’re not turning tricks anymore, that he can share you so freely speaks volumes of who he is. That’s a very rare quality in a man. Surely you understand that he wants that commitment from you so he knows he’s gonna be around for awhile.”
Angrily, she jumped out of the chair. “Damnit, there’s more to it.”
“He doesn’t know that, Morgan.”
Tears rushed into her eyes. “So he leaves me over my stupid shit or theirs. The end is still the same.”
How long is she going to punish herself over this? “Honey, I’ll be there with you. I’ll be with both of you,” he pleaded.
“No. No, it’s not worth it.” Visibly she began to shake.
“So he’s not worth explaining what the hell your problem is so he can finally understand it? You don’t love him that much?”
Quickly, she turned on him. For anyone to question her love for Brian, especially him, angered her. “Don’t say that to me.”
“It’s gotta be what he’s feeling.”
Under her breath, she growled. “Damnit. If something could just make that go away,” she cried. “So that he’d never have to know about it. What if the cops roll down the damned driveway one day and haul me to jail? If they came today, I’d be sixty before I could get back out. Do you really think the Pope’s gonna give him a dispensation so he can get married again? Just because he married a murderess?”
“Morgan, it was an accident,” he pleaded.
“No, Father, it wasn’t an accident,” she shot back.
Frustrated, he hesitated. Why is she even still thinking about this? Punishing herself. “It was written up as an accident,” he reminded.
“Great,” she snarled sarcastically.
“Bella, please,” he pleaded. “You can get over this now. I absolved you years ago.”
But tears only flushed through her eyes again. “How do you get over something like that?”
For that he didn’t have an answer.
“So what...” she cried, sounding pitiful, “I’m gonna sit here alone or settle for some asshole who just wants to get beat every night, I guess.”
“Honey, you have to tell him.”
“No!” she screamed. “I just have to work more until he comes to his senses.” What was she thinking? He was getting married on September 6th with or without her, he said. And she was younger, more beautiful with more money, he had said. “And there’s a very colorful cretin waiting in the wings,” she hissed.
“Morgan, what are you talking about?”
“Did you ever hear of Jerry Abernathy?”
He choked on the very name. “That would be the same as asking who’s never heard of President Abernathy.”
Aggravated, she nodded. “Mr. Abernathy is trying very hard to get my attention. Superfreak.”
Father hesitated. “You got a file on him?”
“Kitty,” she screamed. “Get the file on Abernathy!”
A few minutes later, Kitty returned with two glasses of wine and the file. “Hi, Sweetheart,” Father offered warmly to the naked little girl before him. Kitty’s smile was warm, but disappointed in some way.
“Father’s staying for dinner, Honey,” Morgan said softly. With her back to Morgan, Kitty blew a kiss to Father Romanelli as if to say ‘thank you.’
Without hesitation, Romeo opened the file. Ten minutes later he put it down and gulped the wine. “He’s a wife-beater, Honey.”
“I get that,” she snarled.
“He doesn’t like women at all.”
“No shit. Right now I don’t like men very much.”
“He’s got a hard-on for prostitutes, Baby.”
“Sounds perfect, doesn’t he?” Her expression evinced a tortured kind of anger. “I’m everything he hates and he’s everything I hate. That prep school-yacht club-Billionaire Boys Club brat with enough money to buy and sell me.”
To gain her undivided attention, he started sternly, “Morgan...I don’t think he’s speaking figuratively when he tells you he’s going to set you on fire.”
“No, I don’t think so either. But then he doesn’t know who he’s playing with, does he?”
With more authority, he warned, “Morgan...I want you to remember the day you came to me and told me about JD Rockingham. I want you to remember how deathly frightened you were.”
Her eyes narrowed in his direction. “I was just a kid then. I didn’t have enough sense to not be scared.”
“No,” he screamed. “JD Rockingham and Jerome Abernathy IV were good friends, remember? So why are you even thinking about this?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Romeo insisted. “There were an awful lot of hookers that turned up missing, Morgan. Were they murdered so the boys could have their fun, I don’t even want to know. You are scaring me bad, Girl.”
She sneered. “It’s alright,” she whispered. “I’m not gonna die.”
“And I’m not gonna say any requiem mass for you, either. Damnit.” He launched out of the chair to storm the house. Only a moment later he was returned with the bottle and a pack of cigarettes, smoking furiously.
“I’m not gonna die,” she assured him.
He glared at her smug expression. “Is this a payback?” he said accusingly. “Just because the old man was a freak, doesn’t mean the son is.”
With a sly smile, she shrugged. “It would make for a rip-roaring good time, don’t you think? But it won’t be me that gets ripped.”
“No,” he said adamantly. “Don’t get involved with this one. He wasn’t recommended by a psychologist and I think you ought to pass.”
“I’m gonna see him sometime next week,” she said.
“NO, Morgan,” he pleaded. “Honey, this guy is sick. This is one twisted son of a bitch.”
A wicked little smile crossed her lips. “I’ll show him twisted. I’ll be happy to twist him up.”
* * * *
Brian woke with a start from what felt like a hundred year sleep with his head throbbing. Confused, he lay there a moment, looking at such familiar uncertainties. “Oh, Morgan,” he prayed, remembering the day’s horror.
Slowly, he rolled off the bed, shivering. He started for the bathroom but caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He stood a moment and stared. “I’ve become my father.” Choked by that thought, he picked up his cell phone and saw that Morgan had tried to call.
“Morgan...oh shit, what have I done?”
Without will, he took the backstairs to the garage to go to the only person who cared right now. “Cletus...” Tenderly, he shook the chauffeur’s shoulder to wake him.