by Lori Leger
Trini gave her a dramatic eye roll. “That’s not how I saw it.”
Cynthia chuckled at Trini’s obvious bias. “It’s no secret you’ve always taken your father’s side. God knows, I loved the man, Trin, but he could be a self-centered bully when he wanted to be.” For some reason, both his sons skipped that trait, but his only daughter had latched onto it with a death-defying grip. “You’re just like him, Trin, and I hope wherever he is, he’s realizing what an injustice he’s done to you.”
“Self-centered? A bully? Daddy? He was generous, kind, and loving to everyone. I’m proud to be like my father!”
Cynthia closed her eyes and heard the therapist’s words running through her mind.
“It’s time to stop protecting your dead husband, Cynthia. Your daughter is an adult with a husband and child of her own. Trini is old enough to hear about her father’s imperfections. She needs to stop blaming you, especially if you want a future with this new man of yours.”
She took a deep breath, and prepared to bare her soul to Trini. “Yes, your father could be all those things when he chose to be. But he was spoiled and used to getting his own way. Think about it, Trin. When was the last time you saw him give an inch? When have you ever seen him not get his way?”
Trini opened her mouth then closed it. “Just because I can’t think of an instance right now doesn’t mean anything.”
“You’re not going to remember any incidents because he never gave an inch and he always got his way.” She laughed suddenly. “Gene was such an expert manipulator he had me fooled into believing we were compromising. But there was never any compromising in our marriage. There was only me, bending to his will, and letting him have his way. If I didn’t, he sulked like a spoiled child, and gave me the cold shoulder. Don’t you remember the year we were supposed to go to Orlando for family vacation and he decided at the last minute he wanted to go to Vegas instead?”
“You made that choice together.”
“I relented after he barely spoke to me for a week. I lost about two thousand dollars of deposits on that little adventure.”
Trini’s nose lifted a good three inches. “Don’t you mean Daddy lost his money?”
Here she was, face to face with a huge issue in their marriage … the white elephant … money.
“No, Trini, your dad never paid for a single vacation. I took that loss, and then I paid for the Vegas trip, too.” The obstinate look on her daughter’s face told Cynthia she still had some work to do. “I’m a doctor, Trin. Your father spent his entire career with the fire department. Even as chief, he didn’t bring in half of my take home pay.”
She could tell by the dumb-founded look on her daughter’s face she’d had no idea.
Cynthia nodded. “There’s a reason you weren’t aware of that. It was such a sore subject with your dad that I didn’t dare bring it up. I’m the one who paid the mortgage. I’m the one who paid for the cars when you kids got your driver’s license. I paid all the insurances. It was the savings account drawn from my checks that paid all of your college tuitions. Your father’s contribution to keeping our household afloat was the utility and cable bill. That’s it.”
Trini grew pensive, and Cynthia couldn’t help but wonder if she was remembering Gene’s over-the-top-dramatics when one of them left a light on or a door open, or the rising costs of premium cable channels. He’d eventually cut everything out but basic cable. Cynthia had always preferred reading over watching television so it hadn’t bothered her, but it drove the kids crazy.
“But you were always nagging him to pay his bills, so he must have been paying something.” Trini’s tone was hard and accusing.
“He paid for his toys because I refused to. And I had to stay on him or they wouldn’t get paid. I finally got him to schedule automatic drafts to keep him on track.”
“Toys? You mean like his truck? He had to have a vehicle to get to work, didn’t he?”
Cynthia gave her daughter a thoughtful nod. “Yes, but did he have to trade in that truck every two years for a brand new model? I paid off my cars early and kept them for eight years. And there was the thirty thousand dollar Harley he rode maybe ten times a year, his fancy bass boat, his ATV, his forty thousand dollar man cave addition to the house, the five thousand dollar custom made pool table for his man cave, his way too expensive hunting trips, his outrageously expensive hunting leases … all of it … for his entertainment, Trini.”
Trini’s jaw set stubbornly. “Daddy worked hard. He deserved those things.”
Cynthia rested her hands on her hips. “And what about me? Have you ever known me to be so extravagant with my wants and needs? Have you ever known me to take a vacation alone? Without you kids when you were home, or without your father? Not one time have I ever blown that kind of money on myself.”
Trini crossed her arms and looked down at her shoes.
“And let’s not forget your dad’s other source of entertainment. He paid Tamara’s rent for two years and paid the notes on her brand new car.” That seemed to get Trini’s attention.
“I-I don’t believe you.”
“Oh, it’s true, all right. Both places called when they didn’t get their payments.” Cynthia wanted to laugh at the irony. After everything she’d just said, it was the mention of money that got her daughter thinking.
She paced the floor in front of Trini as she remembered the shock of those two revealing phone calls. As chance would have it, she’d received both just minutes apart, and exactly one month from the day of her husband’s burial.
“I only thought I couldn’t be more humiliated than I was at the funeral home.” She passed a hand over her brow and released a slightly hysterical laugh. “There’s nothing as eye-opening as getting phone calls demanding pay for the other woman’s home and auto.”
Trini’s eyes grew wider. “What did you do?”
“I had to pay one thousand dollars just to cancel the apartment lease. It was in Gene’s name. As his widow, I was responsible.”
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“Afraid not. I told the dealership to pick up the car because they wouldn’t get another dime for it. It seems your father didn’t carry the insurance to pay it off in case of his death.” She picked at a piece of fuzz on her sleeve, adding just under her breath. “Hell, why would he? He’d had it so good up until then he probably thought he was a god and had achieved immortality.”
Trini gave her head several sudden shakes. “I don’t believe a word of it. You’ve made all this up just to hurt me!”
Cynthia approached her daughter. “You don’t know how badly I wish none of this was true, Trin. But it is. You have to find a way to accept that even though your dad loved us all, and I know he did, he wasn’t the perfect man you thought he was.”
Trini’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Why are you doing this?”
She cupped her daughter’s face gently in her hands. “I love you with all my heart, and I hate this gulf between us. I need you to stop blaming me for something I didn’t do. I treated your father very well. I thought he was happy being married to me. I really did. Even with all his ways, I thought I was happy enough … at the time. We all need to move on.”
Trini turned away from her. “Are you saying you weren’t happy?”
“I’m saying I accepted things the way they were, Trini. I’d been with your dad since the age of eighteen. I had nothing I could use in comparison to life with Gene. Now, I do.”
Trini spun around to face her. Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve started seeing someone, an old friend. He lost his wife around fifteen years ago.”
“So that’s what all of this is about,” her daughter snarled.
“He’s a wonderful man, Trin. But, after what your dad did to me, I had severe trust and self-esteem issues. They were bad enough to cause problems; bad enough to come back here and put some things to rest in order to have a chance at a real relationship.”
“A real relationship?” Trini’s laughter was cold and acidic. “Admit it, Mother. You want my blessing to whore around.”
Cynthia took one step closer to her daughter, fought with everything she had not to draw back and slap the ugly, judgmental look from her face.
“I don’t need your blessing to do anything, honey. I’m an adult. I’ve followed all the rules, obeyed all the laws of marriage. I was a hell of a good wife and whether you want to admit this or not, I know I’ve always been a good mother.”
She paused, lifted her chin slightly. “I deserve to be happy. I’m sorry if you can’t see that.”
Trini glared at her. “Oh, I see lots of things, Mother.”
“You see nothing but your need to keep your dad up on that pedestal. What you don’t see is the damage his betrayal has done to all of us, you included. I came back here to face it, and try my best to move on. I suggest you do the same.”
She reached into her wallet and pulled out a business card. “This is the therapist I use. She knows our history. Call her, Trin. For the sake of your marriage, for the child you and Mick brought into this world, and for any future children. For God’s sake, call her, talk to her. She can help you sort through these feelings of betrayal and bitterness.”
“The only person I feel betrayed by is you, Mother.” Trini turned away from her, completely ignoring the card. “As a matter of fact, I’m uncomfortable with you even being here. I won’t stop you from seeing your granddaughter, but I’d prefer it if you’d stay in a hotel for the remainder of your stay.”
Cynthia closed her eyes, heart-sick over her daughter’s words. “I’m only here for this evening. I have to go back to work on Wednesday. I’ll visit with Zoe for a while longer then drive back to the hotel near the airport.” She turned to leave the room.
“Mother.”
Cynthia paused, a shred of hope daring to enter her heart. “Yes, Trini?”
“If you continue to see whoever it is you’re seeing, don’t expect me to accept him. Ever.”
Cynthia turned on her daughter. “You listen to me, you spoiled little princess! If I ever decide to introduce that wonderful man to any of you, I’m warning you now. You had better treat him with the utmost respect. He deserves no less from any of you.”
She stuck a finger in her daughter’s face as a final warning. “And Lord help you if you don’t.”
Eighteen hours later found Cynthia on an early afternoon flight to Houston with a quick plane-change to the Lake Coburn airport. The plane landed with no difficulty and the single piece of carry-on luggage assured her quick exit from the terminal to her parked car.
She’d just buckled-up and turned her phone back on when she saw the text concerning her son’s surprise party.
Hey, Ms. Cynthia! Had to move the party up a week to THIS Friday. Sorry! No way around the birthday boy’s ever-changing work schedule. Please tell me you can still make it on the 25th????
Cynthia groaned in frustration and made an immediate call to her standin. She was already off on Friday, but this weekend was her turn to be on-call. She should have realized things were running too smoothly, aside from her obstinate daughter, anyway. She waited for him to answer, fist-pumped the air when he agreed to the switch.
Her heart thudded with excitement when she shot a text back to Jeremy’s girlfriend, Lena.
I’ll be there!
The next text had her stomach lurching nervously.
Plus one???
Her reply text was classic glass half-full with a bit of caution thrown in for good measure. Hope so.
Ten miles from home, she was still contemplating; should she call or just show up at John Michael’s place to give him his long overdue apology? Finally, she called his mobile and got no answer, and then his landline with the same result, before calling his dad’s place.
“Hey, Mr. J.D., it’s Cyn. Would John Michael happen to be there? He didn’t answer either of his phones.”
“He left for home a few minutes ago, Cynthia. I know his mobile was about to die. Is everything all right? He’s seemed kind of squirrely the last several days. He damned near snapped my head off anytime I asked about you.”
“My fault entirely, sir, but I’m about to make it right.”
His deep laughter echoed from her speaker. “Good to hear. So, are you planning to pay him a visit?”
“I’m on my way there now.”
“Sounds good, and just in case you’re wondering, I won’t bother or call him for the rest of the evening.”
“Thanks Mr. J.D.” She ended the call and called her mom to let her know she’d made the flight back fine but wouldn’t be home for a while. “I’ll be at John Michael’s place. I have my phone with me if you need anything at all.”
“Okay sweet girl. You take your time.”
Before she hit the end call button she heard her mom mumble something that sounded like “It’s about damn time”.
By the time Cynthia approached John Michael’s door, her stomach had turned into a ball of queasy, nervous tension. What if he booted her ass to the curb without hearing her out?
When several knocks on the front door produced nothing, Cynthia walked to the kitchen entry. The wooden door was open, but the glass storm door was closed. She knocked, again with no answer, and tried the latch. It opened easily, so she took a tentative step inside and called out to him.
No answer.
Her gaze landed on two large bags on the kitchen counter, one filled with tomatoes and the other with yellow squash. Two huge purple eggplants sat next to the bags; all products of his greenhouse gardening skills, no doubt.
“John, are you here?” She paused as a door opened in the hallway.
“I’m coming!” he called out, the sound of his voice slightly muffled.
She turned toward the doorway, froze in place when he appeared, bare-chested and damp from his shower, a dark blue towel draped around his waist as he dried his hair with a smaller hand towel.
“Take everything I left for you there on the table, Zach. I’m not in the mood to mess with any of it right now and there’s no more room in my fridge. I guess I need to plant fewer vegetables from now on.”
She swallowed at the sight of his broad, bare chest, feathered with a mixture of silky dark and silvery hair. He may not have the twelve pack abs of a body builder, but the abdominal muscles of his naturally lean torso were still nicely defined with no sign of flab. His bare biceps rippled with strength as he rubbed the towel briskly in his hair.
She cleared her throat, putting a halt to his towel action. “Or I could show you how to freeze and can some of that stuff so you can enjoy it all year.”
He lowered the hand towel, his eyes wide with shock. “Oh sh-i-i-it! I’m sorry, Cyn. I thought you were Zachary.” He backed into the hallway, she supposed heading to his bedroom for a change of clothes.
“Don’t go covering all that bare-chested-brawniness on my account.” She lifted one brow as he froze in place. “I’m kind of liking the view.”
He crossed his arms before striking a nonchalant pose against the doorframe, one size twelve foot crossed over the other. “Well, all right then. What is it you want, Cyn?”
“I’m here to apologize to you, John Michael. You were right about everything, and I’m so sorry if I insulted you.”
He nodded. “Apology accepted. But what I really want to hear is whether or not you’ve dealt with what Gene did to you. Are you ready to put it behind you?” He shook his head. “I can’t see us moving forward until you do. And you need to accept that I’m not like him.”
Several slow, deliberate steps had her positioned right in front of him. Her hands itched to reach out and touch, to flatten her palms against his glorious bare abs. Her fingers longed to yank out that tucked-in-corner of the towel draped loosely around his hips. “I flew to Oklahoma yesterday and just made it back. I wanted a face-to-face with my therapist, as well as my daughter.”
“Hm. Let’s hear the worst part f
irst. How’d it go with Trini?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “About as well as you or I would expect from someone every bit as obstinate as her father. She’s still in complete denial.” She reached up to touch the St. Anthony medal hanging from a chain around his neck. “My therapist says you were right, by the way.”
“Good to know.” He lifted one hand to rub his chin. “Maybe I should hang a sign out front and take in patients.” He sucked in his breath as she placed her hands on his waist.
“Maybe you won’t have time for any patients other than the one standing in front of you.”
He leaned forward to place a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Maybe you’re right. I’m thinking you may be a handful all by your lonesome.”
Her hands traced twin sensuous paths up his sides and shoulders to link behind his neck as his arms wrapped around her. She lifted up to her toes to accept the kiss he offered freely. Tongues entwined, her fingers knotted in his hair, as one hand clutched her shoulder, and another pressed gently at the back of her head. After a gloriously exaggerated kiss, they parted, both panting.
Her gaze landed on the obvious below-the-waist “tenting” of his towel and cleared her throat. “Speaking of a handful …”
“I’ve got enough.”
Her mouth twisted in a grin. “Looks like more than enough.” She cocked her head to watch him as she reached slowly for the towel. He remained in place, his expression frozen except for the slightest lift of his left brow over “Ferguson blue” eyes lit up with amusement. Emboldened, the forefinger of her right hand slipped under the towel’s edge, slid a path along the front of his hard belly. Her left hand reached for the folded edge, tugged gently at it. The corner slipped free the exact moment the sound of shoes hitting the front porch reached her, followed by two people conversing.
John Michael uttered a mild curse and clutched the towel ends tightly as he ducked into the hallway and then his room.
“Hello! We’re here for the vegetables, Dad.”
Momentarily at a loss, Cynthia rushed to the kitchen where both Zach and Cathryn were stepping inside, each toting occupied infant carriers. “Hey, you two, and you have the babies.” She clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, give!” She found a bottle of hand sanitizer while Cathryn freed the blue-clad infant from the seat.