by Jo Willow
“You look good. Better than him. He’s not holding up well at all, but he deserves it. You don’t.”
I was puzzled and it must have shown on my face. This whole thing felt like a conversation that I’d stumbled into while it was halfway in progress.
“I’m not following you. He has no reason to be upset, he ended our relationship, not me. He knows where I live and he knows I’m always there. He has both of my phone numbers and a valid reason to call. I need his okay on the book. I’m sorry he’s not holding up well, but I don’t understand why that’s the case. Whether or not he deserves it...I won’t judge him because he has a right to his feelings. I don’t have to agree, but I do respect his right to have them.”
Bree put a damp cloth over the bread bowl to allow the dough to rise, and set it aside. She nailed me with her eyes and I saw Deacon staring at me. I swallowed hard to avoid giving away the hit I took without flinching.
“You feel that way because you respect him. You’re staying busy because you love him...”
Grant put his hand on her arm as if to hold her back.
“Bree...”
She shrugged him off and continued.
“Grant, a lot of shit has been thrown at this poor girl and she doesn’t deserve it. She deserves the truth and I’m going to see that she gets it. She’ll have the whole weekend to digest it, but she needs to hear it from people that care about her.”
She was talking to him, but she was staring at me. She wanted me to understand that what was said at the farm, stayed at the farm. I understood alright and I think she saw that in my eyes before she continued.
“My son is an imbecile. He’s a well meaning imbecile, but he’s an imbecile just the same. He hasn’t contacted you because he doesn’t know how to handle his feelings Dorothy. They’re all over the place and he can’t get control of them. He misses you something fierce and that’s something he’s never felt before. He loved the book and he won’t admit it. He brought it out here for us to read, hoping we’d find something objectionable in it. As you well know, there’s nothing of the kind in that book. I don’t know if you realize it or not, but everything you feel for Deacon is on every page of that book. You describe his appearance through the eyes of someone that enjoys looking at him. When you speak of his humor and his gentler side, there’s a caress there that’s unmistakable. When I read the part about the business takeover that you witnessed, you could have made him sound ruthless and cold but you didn’t. Every ounce of respect that you have for that man was out there for the world to see. But the part that will stay with me, is the part where you described him as a child. You described him in a way that made it sound like you’d love to have ten just like him. How could anyone read that book and find a single fault in it?”
I didn’t know what to say. That was a first, but all I could do was stare at her and blink. Grant was gently stroking her back and I could tell he felt the same way. All barriers were down here. I’d gotten my answers and then some. They deserved some answers from me. If they got back to Deacon, then so what. His parents had stripped him bare before me, turnabout was fair play.
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. This trip was not going as I imagined it would go.
“You have no idea how happy I am that you liked the book. Everything you said is true. I can’t and won’t deny any of it. I do like looking at him. I enjoy his company and I don’t care if he’s making me laugh or staring down a Board of Directors. The hardest thing to admit is that I would have ten just like him because I know him,and I know the people they would become. But that’s down to how you raised HIM, not how I would raise THEM. You deserve the credit for this book just as much as I do. You created the subject, I made him public.”
Grant looked at me and I couldn’t read him. He wasn’t angry and he was very much involved in the conversation even though he’d said very little. He didn’t smile and I got the feeling this was the “Serious Parent” look that he used on his sons.
“Dorothy, do you love Deacon?”
The man didn’t dance with his subject matter, did he?
“He was my best friend. So I guess the answer to that would be, yes.”
“That’s not what I’m asking you and you know it. Let me rephrase the question. Are you in love with my son?”
Damn it. I can report to you that I am now fully aware of what those defendants feel like in front of Judge Judy. I knew I’d never come up with a believable lie, but I couldn’t even grasp a vague response.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about that and you’re the first person to come right out and ask the question. You don’t seem like the type of people to pry or manipulate your children, so that leads me to believe that you must truly want to know.”
A hint of a grin touched both their faces, giving me the courage to let it all hang out.
“I don’t think I loved him at the time. If I did, I wasn’t aware of it. I know this, because I never acted on it and I would have. I’m not conniving or manipulative; I’m not smart enough to be able to carry out stuff like that. Besides, he would have seen right through it. Deacon knows me better than anyone. He would have seen it and run from it. All three of us know that. Having said that, let me answer your question. Again. I’ve had a lot of time on my own to think about it and I believe I do love Deacon. More than I’ve ever loved anyone probably. I freely admit that, because it doesn’t matter.”
Bree’s eyes grew huge and she leaned forward.
“Doesn’t matter? Now I’m thinking you’re the imbecile! If you believe that, then you don’t know him half as well as you think you do. Dorothy, he’s avoiding you because he loves you! He’s suffering and missing work because he needs you! You gave him laughter and something to look forward to. You were all he talked about before your last visit and he somehow managed to bring the conversation back to you all the time last weekend! My millionaire-dedicated and confirmed bachelor son, is driving himself crazy over a woman. The perfect woman.”
“Take a breather Bree. I am far from the perfect anything.”
“That’s not how we see it. Sorry, but it’s the truth. You tease him, laugh at and with him, and you respect him. You like his brothers and they adore you. You would not believe all the shit he’s gotten from them over you since your break-up.”
I was tracing the wood grain pattern on the kitchen table with my finger tip, my eyes concentrating on the task to avoid their penetrating gazes. This was difficult. Too difficult. I could not afford to get my hopes up here. I’d spent every second of the last few weeks trying to glue my heart back together piece-by-piece, and I’d be damned if I would put it up on a high stand with wobbly legs so that he could take another swipe at it. I forgave him once and let him back in. Look at where it got me? I didn’t want to hurt his parents, but this was a “no way” thing.
I cleared my throat and put out my hand to stop all conversation before I raised my eyes to theirs once again.
“Please stop. I need to tell you a story that never made it into the book. Everything else I say this weekend? I could care less whether or not you tell him because frankly, I don’t think he’ll care one way or another. But this thing; this one thing, has to remain between us. Okay?”
They nodded in agreement without saying the words.
“When I first started shadowing him for the book, he took me to a charity fundraiser at the art museum. Black tie affair, every pretentious sucker in town was there, and Deacon knew all of them by name. He held my hand, put his arm around my waist, and introduced me to everyone as his ‘date’. I never corrected him because Deacon has a reason for everything he does. He met my parents and charmed them into submission. I was pissed and he was tickled. He asked me to dance and I accepted. We were having a good time, getting to know one another, enjoying each other’s company. A woman named Sylvia cut in and I never saw him again that night. I was dressed to kill and I was there with the most visible man in New York City, and he’d introduced me as his dat
e. He left with that woman without saying goodbye, let me find you a ride, kiss my ass, or it’s been real. I called my sister and had her come give me a ride home. He humiliated me in front of everyone and never gave it a second thought. Do you know what I did? I accepted his apology and gave him a key to my apartment. He was there so much hanging out and having dinner, I figured, why not? He made me stupid and I trusted him. A month later, he humiliated me again. Only this time, there were no strangers involved. This time, it was personal. So do I love him? Yes. Will I give him a third shot? No way. Sorry, but I can’t feel any other way. Your son may love me as you say, he may need me as you assert, but he’ll break my heart without giving it a second thought and I can’t live through that again. I hope you understand.”
I waited a beat and then looked at them. I expected to see sympathy, what I got was shock. I knew they’d never heard the story and I had no intention of them hearing it. But they had to know and understand my reasons or this would never end. They were determined to get us back together, it was obvious! All this, “He loves you, do you love him?” crap had to stop or this would be the weekend from hell. I didn’t mind talking about him, but the high school shit? It was killing me.
Bree moved before Grant did. She turned and opened a cabinet and pulled out three wine glasses. Grant reached for the corkscrew. Party time, Sloan style.
They both came to the table and Grant reached for the wine bottle. He was halfway through uncorking the sweet Australian white that was quickly becoming my favorite, when he blew out a breath. His voice was gentle, deep, and sincere.
“Dorothy I’m not sure what to say. We had no idea that this was a pattern of some kind. Of course we understand and if anyone should be apologizing, it’s Deacon. He’s not ready to do that yet, and believe me when I say that he has no clue that he’s screwed himself royally.”
The cork popped out and he filled the glasses. As he handed one to me, he placed his hand over mine when I accepted it.
“I hope you’ll stay in our lives even though you can’t stay in his. We’ll understand if that’s too difficult for you, but I hope you’ll think about it.”
I stood, walked around the table and hugged them both.
“I’m glad you still want me around. This means the world to me.”
Can you say three-way hug? A true bonding moment for sure. If Deacon had walked in at that moment, I don’t know who would have killed him first. His mother with a kitchen knife, or his father with a corkscrew.
Chapter Nine
“Dude. You should seriously contemplate a vacation.”
Deacon had just about had all he could take from his brothers. The phrase, “This shit is getting old” came to mind, but if he responded to Anton’s dig, he’d keep digging. So he blew off the comeback and sighed instead. It got him nowhere.
“Look, I know Pierce and I have been thorns lately, but you have to see our side of this.”
Deacon raked his hands through his hair and down his face for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He was well aware how he looked. He’d been staring at the same dark circles under his eyes for weeks now. He lost his appetite sometime around day three and insomnia introduced itself shortly after. He’d taken a liking to cheesy country music and tequila, neither of which agreed with him. He lost count of how many times he’d asked himself what the hell she’d done to him, and this was usually followed by another shot, a lime, and some salt. On the up side, he was pretty sure at this rate, he wouldn’t die of scurvy.
He turned his eyes up to his brother who was still standing on the other side of his desk, looking down at him like a gargoyle.
“Great. You two have a side? Since when? I thought this was between Dorothy and I.”
Anton rolled his eyes, took a seat and crossed his ankle over his knee.
“Deke, you always were a selfish prick. Of course Pierce and I have a side. Forget the fact that we’re both crazy about Dor’, what about Melody?”
Deacon knew he was so sleep deprived he bordered on hallucinating, but he was pretty sure that his pain in the ass brother had just inserted Melody as well as Pierce and himself into his nightmare of a life.
“Anton, I am three seconds from making a lifetime commitment to a prison cell and our mother one son down. You’d better start clarifying so that you can get the hell out of my line of sight.”
“You are one touchy asshole. You know that? Melody is still up for grabs Deke. She thinks she likes Pierce and he’s got that look in his eye, but she’s not committing and he’s not actually chasing. I say, You snooze, you lose. I’d planned on swooping in and sweeping that little honey off her feet.”
“Right...”
“Do you think she’ll give either one of us the time of day as long as you’re treating her sister like a no-fly zone? Shit Deke! Pierce and I are carrying guilt by association and that ain’t right! You need to get your shit together, straighten up, and fly right. You know you wanna call her, do it. You’ve even got the perfect damned excuse. You need to give her the thumbs up on that book, it’s your ‘in’ dude. Take it.”
Leave it to Anton to zero in on the sore spot and poke it with a stick. The minute he’d started reading about himself in the words she’d chosen, he knew. Well he didn’t actually know, because he himself was unfamiliar with the sentiment. But he had a hunch. He’d taken the book to his folks and they knew without a doubt. Dorothy had feelings for him. Strong feelings. He’d always suspected as much. The thing was, he had feelings too. He wasn’t sure what they were, but they were strong and unrelenting. So he couldn’t let her go. He knew when the decision was made that there would be repercussions. He figured that as long as he continued to keep her at arm’s length and treat her as a friend, she’d follow his lead. She’d done exactly that. That is until “The Derailment” happened. He’d started calling it that because that’s exactly what it was. They had the perfect arrangement. They were happy. Then she’d kissed him. Had he overreacted? Hell yeah. He knew he’d freak out, that’s why he hadn’t kissed her himself. Every time he’d held her hand it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms. The jolt he got every damned time he touched her was addictive. She didn’t seem to mind the touches and hugs, so he didn’t stop.
Then she had to go and kiss him. That’s when his train jumped the tracks and how does one come back from something like that anyway? If he had the answer to THAT question, maybe he’d start sleeping again at night. Meanwhile, his brothers and his parents had decided that playing “Switzerland” wasn’t in their repertoire. Family loyalty? What the hell was that? They’d joined team Dorothy and never looked back. Remember that nickname “The Lone Wolf”? All of a sudden that sucker seemed accurate and Deacon didn’t appreciate it. The only person that still played ball for his team was Miranda and she was beginning to get on his nerves. He’d never noticed how nasally her voice was until hers was pretty much the only voice he heard anymore.
Deacon felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he gave a small involuntary shiver until he noticed that his brother was still looking at him expectantly. What had they been talking about again? Oh yeah. A vacation or something. He needed sleep in a bad way.
“I can’t take a vacation now Anton. We’ve got the LilowTech merger next week. I have to be here for that. Besides, where would I go? Hell, I can’t sleep now. I never could sleep in a strange bed, what good would a vacation do?”
He was rambling and he knew it so he closed his mouth and looked up at his brother. Anton looked at him as if he were tap dancing sheep.
“What the fuck is the matter with you Deacon? Get a grip. We weren’t talking about a vacation, I mentioned that ten minutes ago. We are going to revisit it though, so hold that thought. We were talking about you talking to Dorothy. You need to tell her that you liked the book so that you can talk to her.”
“Talk to me about the vacation idea before you forget it.”
Anton cocked his head and sized up his brother.
“You’re avoiding the Dorothy issue and it’s got something to do with the book. You did like it, didn’t you? The rest of us did, and I can’t imagine you finding fault with it. She told your story in a positive light and made you seem likable. Hell Deacon, for a minute there, I actually thought you had a personality. I may have her write mine.”
“It was okay.”
Antons foot fell off his leg and his head tipped forward but his eyes never left his brother.
“Okay? It was...okay? Excuse me, did we read the same book? A little over three hundred pages? Made you sound like the only thing missing was the crown of thorns and a wicked water trick? Seriously?”
“I said it was okay. I think it could’ve been more objective is all. Maybe a few more stories about my formative years. There was nothing in there about my high school years at all. What about those four years? Huh?”
Anton rolled his eyes and cracked his knuckles.
“Your high school years? What did you do in high school? You dicked around in shop class like the rest of us and marked time until you could graduate and go to college. No great romances, no accolades of any kind, no sports capabilities or musical talent to speak of. I could write that part if you want. How about this? ‘Deacon Sloan went to high school’.”
Deacon narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger at Anton.
“You, are the asshat. Not me. Your time’s coming buddy. One of these days the spotlight will be off me and pointed directly at your ugly puss. Let’s see how well you do when that happens.”
Anton’s face lit up and Deacon had a bad feeling. He knew he should’ve kept his book opinion to himself. If he’d been in his right mind, he would have.
“You sneaky bastard!”
Anton was having a Eureka moment and Deacon sincerely wished he’d have it somewhere else.
“Anton, I do not have the energy to be a sneaky bastard. What are you talking about now, and can we maybe talk about it later?”