Amanda sighed as she went back to perusing the selection. “What am I ever going to do when you girls leave?” she sadly, “You've only been here a few days, but already it feels like you've been here forever. I'm gonna miss you so much when you go!”
Lauren, Sam, and Karina exchanged small smiles.
“What?” Amanda asked with a laugh, “What's the secret?”
“Well,” Sam said happily, “here's the thing: you're not going to have to miss us!”
Amanda still looked puzzled.
Lauren clarified, “We've decided to stay. We each have our reasons why moving home right now seems like a good idea...”
Amanda clapped her hands together in delight, “So you're moving here? You all are? You're coming home?”
Karina snorted, “Well, it's not like we're all getting a house together. This isn't a wacky sitcom. Hijinks will not ensue.”
Lauren gave Karina her trademark half-smile, “Don't be so sure.”
Karina grinned, “Touché.”
Sam continued the story, “We were talking last night...”
Karina interjected, “While you were on your life-changingly bad date with Go Free!”
“While you were on your date with Geoffrey,” Lauren corrected.
“...and we all realized that we were at points in our lives where we needed a reboot,” Sam finished smoothly, as if she had never been interrupted.
“Yeah,” Karina continued, “I am seriously not happy with the trajectory of my career. I have to do some serious soul-searching and figure out what to do about that. Not only can I not do that on the road, surrounded by all of my handlers, I don't really feel like I can do it in LA, either. That city is not me. I've had fun there, and I have good friends there, but now that I've been home, I understand that THIS is where I need to be if I am going to try to make a return to an authentic self. This is the place the made me, this is where I feel the most like me.”
“We're flying down to LA next week,” Lauren continued, “I'm going to help her interview realtors to sell her house there. Then Karina's coming home, and I'm continuing to New York to put my condo on the market and straighten out some business there.”
“Wow, I feel like a loser,” Sam laughed, “I packed up all my clothes before I came out here from my trainer's. I've always lived out of a suitcase, basically. I guess for all intents and purposes, I already have moved here.”
“Wait a minute, you actually live with your trainer?” Karina inquired incredulously, “How did I not pick up on that? I mean, I know you did when we were in high school. But I didn't realize it was still going on!”
“Yeah, it's not the norm, but it's not completely unheard of, either,” Sam explained, “When an athlete is far from home, they can fall victim to loneliness and depression, which can interfere with their focus and training. Living with a family feels more like a real home, and so it ameliorates some of that risk. That's the official story...and, to be fair, I do think that's a small part of it. The real story, though? Is that it lets your coaches keep a close eye on you, 24 hours a day.”
“All the better to control you with, my dear,” cackled Karina, doing a spot-on imitation of the Big Bad Wolf pretending to be Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother.
“Oh, my, what big insights you have, Grandmother!” returned Sam in an awed little-girl voice, coming right back at Karina in character as Little Red Riding Hood.
Karina cracked up, “Oh, man! A few days around me, and you are really becoming a true smart ass!” She wiped away pretend tears and snuffled, “I'm so proud!”
“Well, you may have been joking around in the delivery, but the truth of the statement can't be denied. I'm tired of living their life. I'm 27 years old, and I've never lived on my own. I've never picked out my own furniture, I've never gone to the grocery store. I've never chosen what I wanted to watch on TV, for God's sake! I don't think I've ever even had a hotel room to myself on the road. I was thinking back, and I'm pretty sure I've always been roomed with another athlete.
“Anyway, I'm sick of it. I want my own apartment, I want my own life. It's scary, but I figure that the best place to do something that's really scary and that I might need a lot of support for is in a place that I feel safe, with the people who love me the most!”
“Well, that is definitely us!” Amanda cried as she gave her friend a supportive hug. Then she turned to Lauren, “What about you, Laur? I thought things were going so great, in your fancy real estate business in Manhattan?”
“Yes, well,” Lauren intoned with a grimace, “Things can turn from great to awful pretty quickly when your affair with the boss goes south.”
Amanda gasped, “Lauren! You didn't!”
“Oh, she did!” Karina exclaimed with mischievous glee, “Our buttoned-up, straight-laced Lauren has a wild child side! She's got a little bad girl in her!”
Lauren blushed, “It wasn't as torrid as all that. In fact, it probably is a mischaracterization to even refer to it as an 'affair.' It was a relationship. It was a year long, mature relationship between two consenting adults. We lived together, for God's sake! Really, the fact of him being my boss never even entered into it while we were together. We were just two people in a relationship.
“But then, I broke it off. We were happy, but there were things missing. I looked 50 years into the future, and I knew that my life wasn't with him, you know? And so I figured, best to go our separate ways before putting in even more time and effort, and becoming even more inextricably entwined in each others' lives.
“Well, suffice it to say, he did not see things the same way that I did. He's a powerful man. He's used to getting his way. Normally, he snaps his fingers, and he has twenty people rushing around to do his bidding. Money and power tend to insulate you from people that will flat out tell you no.
“Not to mention that, being handsome and wealthy, he was not used to women breaking things off with him. It was an entirely new experience, one that he was ill-prepared to handle.
“At first, he merely contented himself with wheedling, pressuring, and begging me to come back. All of those manipulations had worked with other women in the past when he had wanted something, he had no reason to believe that they wouldn't work with me. But when they didn't, he got mean. He threatened me.”
“Did he put his hands on you?” Karina asked, steel in her voice.
“No, no, nothing like that. He would consider that beneath him. But he did make life extremely difficult for me, professionally. And when I tried to move to another firm, any other firm, I found that he had blackballed me. If I wanted to work in real estate anywhere in Manhattan, I was going to have to work for him, and he was making that impossible.”
Amanda was outraged, “What you're describing is sexual harassment!” she exclaimed, “You could sue his ass!”
Lauren nodded, “Oh, I know, I know. It's textbook. And the truth is, I did think about suing him, not for myself so much as to keep him from doing the same thing to other women. But the harsh reality is that it's so difficult to prove, and you get tied up in court for years.
“When I think about going back to New York and trying to battle it out with him, that prospect is almost overwhelmingly exhausting. When I think about starting over here in Hope Falls, it's like I can breathe again. I'm sure Gloria Steinem would be very disappointed in me. But I just don't have it in me to be the poster girl for fighting sexual harassment.”
Amanda consoled her, “Lauren, it's not your job to fight every woman's fight. He is trying to control you, trying to keep you in New York, and trying to keep you connected to him and in his life. If you feel duty bound to bring a court case against him, that actually accomplishes all of his goals for him - you've done something you didn't want to do because he has controlled your actions, you've stayed in New York against your will, and you're connected to him and in his life. I think you need to do what's right for you.”
Lauren smiled, “I agree. Plus, I realized that, in a year of living
with him, I found out where a few of the bodies are buried. He is a big fan of, shall we say, creative accounting. I have quite a few files that I think are going to be of interest to the IRS. Just because he isn't going to be tied up in court with me doesn't mean he isn't going to be tied up in court.”
“That's my girl!” Karina crowed, “Lauren, I swear. I'm glad you're on my side in life. You would be scary to have as an enemy.”
“Exactly,” Lauren smiled, pleased with the assessment, “Now, ladies, let's get Amanda into these clothes. We still have the hair and nail salon after this, not to mention makeup – we have a very busy day ahead of us still!”
Chapter 25
Justin wandered uncomfortably from room to room in his childhood home, touching furniture, trying to make it feel real to him. As of right now, it really all just felt like a dream.
Of course, although the shape and layout of the rooms were the same, everything else was completely different. When Justin was a kid, these rooms had consisted of bare walls and mismatched secondhand furniture. Now there was new, solid looking and attractive furniture. There were shelving units, with books – and Justin even recognized some of his old sports trophies. Noah's school pictures hung on the walls, and Justin was shocked to see framed newspaper articles about himself hung alongside them, articles about various high school athletic and academic achievements. In a small town like Hope Falls, it wasn't difficult to get your name or picture in the paper. He never would have dreamed that his father had hung onto those mementos, however.
He drifted into the kitchen, which he had to admit, smelled fantastic to his grumbling stomach. The aroma of grilling meat mingled with a rich molasses scent that Justin couldn't quite place.
Noah bopped over to him, looking tiny and elfin in an adult size apron that came all the way down to his feet. “You can't look!” he exclaimed, “You can't see what it is before time! It's a surprise!”
Justin laughed. He couldn't help but be enchanted by the kid, “OK, I promise, I won't look. It smells delicious, whatever it is.”
“It's franks and beans!” Noah yelled out, unable to keep the secret any longer, “It's your favorite! We made your favorite!”
Rick smiled awkwardly, “It's an updated, adult take on franks and beans, using kielbasa and Italian sausage, and a recipe for baked beans I got from the Food Network. I thought you might like it.”
Justin looked at his father without expression. “Who told you that was my favorite? Where did you get that idea?”
“I remember you used to eat it all the time,” Rick said, floundering, “Almost every day...”
“It was what I could make myself,” Justin replied flatly.
“Oh,” was all Rick replied, looking defeated. He turned and continued to push the pieces of sausage around the large, flat sauté pan.
“We're having franks and beans, we're having franks and beans,” Noah sing-songed as he stood on a stool and stirred the pot of beans on the stove, oblivious to the tension between the two adults.
Justin took a deep breath and attempted to get his attitude in check. He had accepted this dinner invitation from Noah, a decision he might regret now, but he had agreed to come here and he needed to make the best of it. Of course, he reflected, smiling, it's not like I could ever say no to that kid. He turns those big, pleading eyes on me and I'm mush!
So now that he was here, he needed to keep the peace with Rick. As terrible a job as Rick had done with Justin when he was growing up, he seemed to be doing a pretty decent job with Noah. The house seemed nice, Noah seemed happy and well cared for. Most of all, Rick was sober, as far as Justin could tell. Noah seemed to adore his father as much as he clearly adored Justin. The last thing he needed was to see the two most important grownups in his life, the two men he looked up to as models of adulthood, sniping at each other. That would be confusing and upsetting, and Justin refused to be the cause of any pain or upset for his newly-discovered and much-adored little brother.
“Let me set the table,” he said, as he opened a cabinet and pulled out three bowls. Rick flashed him a grateful smile and Justin refused to meet his eyes. Just because he wasn't going to start an argument in front of Noah didn't mean that he had to be buddy-buddy with Rick, either. He would just keep him at a safe distance, so that they could maintain an uneasy truce.
As the meal progressed, that turned out to be much easier than Justin would have predicted that it would be. Noah seemed happy to fill all of the silence with cheerful chattering, and Justin was equally as happy to listen to him. He heard all about Justin's class at school, his friends, his football team, the games he liked to play, and the plots – in their entirety – of all his favorite movies.
Justin was amazed time and time again throughout dinner that the minutiae of his brother's life, which would have been mind-numbingly boring to him were it coming from the mouth of a child that Justin had no relationship with, was endlessly fascinating to him because it was coming from Noah.
Justin wanted to know it all, learn everything about his little brother. He wanted to know what his days were like, who he spent time with, the way his mind worked, what he found funny and what made him sad. Justin was all in.
After the franks and beans were consumed and followed up by heaping scoops of vanilla ice cream, Noah begged Justin to come up to his room and tuck him in, and Justin happily complied.
As they entered Noah's room together, Justin said, “So, how does this tucking in thing work? Is there a book that I read you, or...?”
Noah dashed into the adjoining bathroom and yelled from in there, “First I have to change into my jammas, wash my face, and brush my teeth. Then you can read me a book!”
Justin smiled at Noah's use of the slang term “jammas” in place of pajamas. That was what Justin had said when he was little, as well. So many things, both small and large, that tied them together as brothers.
Noah came rushing out of the bathroom, freshly scrubbed and in soft cotton navy blue PJs with baseballs and bats printed on them. He ran over to his shelf and grabbed a large oversized book. He then scampered over and handed it to Justin where he sat on the edge of the bed before hopping in between the covers.
Justin fingered the aged leather cover of the book, and the crumbling binding. Puzzled, he opened it up and began to peruse the pages.
To Justin's amazement, the book was like a bound shrine to him. It was pictures of Justin, moving chronologically from babyhood all the way up through high school. Interspersed with the photographs were school papers he had written and drawn from as far back as kindergarten, crafts like handprint turkeys, report cards, the blue ribbon he had won in the fourth grade spelling bee.
As the scrapbook moved forward in time through Justin's middle school and high school years, newspaper clippings and photos started showing up, mainly centering on his athletic prowess. Even articles that barely mentioned Justin were included, with Justin's name underlined in strong blue ball point ink, as if the person who had drawn the line were making a strong statement about which part of that article was the truly important bit.
Justin was mesmerized by the book. He flipped through the pages as if in a trance, and when he reached the end, he started again from the first page.
At the end of his second trip through the book, he looked over and realized that Noah was watching him carefully, and had probably been watching his every move and facial expression as he looked at each page.
“What is this?” Justin inquired, trying to keep his tone neutral, to keep the intensity of his amazement and puzzlement out of his voice, lest he scare Noah, or make him think he'd done something wrong by handing Justin the scrapbook.
Justin needn't have worried. Noah was all but bursting to share every detail with him. “It's the book of you, silly!” he yelled in pure delight.
“You're right, I am silly,” Justin responded in a light tone, striving to let Noah set the mood of the conversation, “I am super silly. I should have seen it was a book about
me. Do you know who made this book, Noah?”
“Dad made the book! He made it about all the special things of you!”
Justin nodded slowly. “Thank you for showing me this, Noah. I really appreciate it. But I already know all these things about me. You know what I'd really like to see? I'd like to see your book, so I can know all the special things about you.”
Noah shook his head sadly, “There is no book of me,” he said, not meeting Justin's eyes.
“Why not?” Justin asked softly.
Noah shrugged, still not looking at him.
“Noah, can you tell me why not?” Justin pursued gently.
“Cause it's just for you, because it's for special things you did. I never did anything good enough to get a book of me.”
“I know that's not true,” Justin protested.
Noah nodded, trying his best to be matter of fact, although Justin could see the hurt. “I think you have to be amazing to get a whole book of you,” he shrugged, “I'm just regular.”
Justin shook his head, “Now that is absolutely not true. You are an amazing kid. I would read a book about you any day of the week!”
Noah shook his head, done with the subject, and hopped out of bed and over to his bookcase, “Do you want to read me a normal book?” he asked hopefully.
“Sure,” Justin agreed, although he mentally made a note to broach this subject with his brother again the next time they had a chance to talk.
Noah returned with a dog-eared copy of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe and Justin read to him until his eyes drooped closed and his breathing became deep and even. When Justin was sure that Noah was asleep, he picked up the scrapbook and headed downstairs with it.
Noah may not have wanted to discuss the scrapbook any further, but his father was going to, like it or not.
--- ~ ---
“What the hell is this?” Justin demanded, thrusting the scrapbook at Rick, who looked unsure about what to say next. It was as if he could tell that his son was incensed but, without knowing exactly why, he didn't know how to proceed without saying the wrong thing.
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