by A. Gorman
What was I thinking about when I went to sleep last night? Emily Janes. What is it about her? The newness of her is pulling me in. No. There is something else. She calms me. The rage is quiet when she’s near, and I can be me around her. The guy no one sees except Addison.
I go to the closet and grab jeans, a dress shirt and a sports coat, and place them on the clothes rack outside of the bathroom. When I go over to my father’s house, I don’t want to be uncomfortable. I walk in the bathroom and turn on the shower, and jump in the shower, hurrying.
Almost two hours later, I’m walking up the flights of stairs to my office. I make it to the floor and I’m almost to Kristin’s desk when she sees me. Her face lights up in a smile.
“I see you got some rest?”
“I did. Thank you. I have the files we’ve been working on ready, and I have a new one for you too. When you can, come into my office and we will get to the paperwork.”
“I’ll be in a few moments. Do you want coffee?”
“Please. Thank you.” I walk into my office, leaving the door open.
Before I can get my computer screen on, Kristin is in my office with coffee and a notepad, ready to write down what I need her to do. I’m so glad she’s my assistant.
“First off, I’m leaving around one. I’m going to help Addison look through our father’s papers to hopefully find a will or something.”
“Okay, will you be gone all afternoon?”
“I’m not sure, but if Kane or someone else needs me, call me please and I’ll come in. I think several people are on vacation this week, so it’s been quiet.”
“Will do.”
“Second, I reran some figures and I think I’ve narrowed it down to two organizations I want to work with.” I open my briefcase and hand her the file. “All of my notes are in there, please make the adjustments to the permanent file, and send it to Kane.”
“Okay, I’ll double check all the figures too, and if I see any issue, I’ll let you know.”
“Perfect. This new file, we already have a file on the center, but this is specifically for their outreach program. I need to see if there is going to be a problem since we’ve already made a larger grant to them if we make a smaller grant as well.” I go over the details of new grant paperwork and whom the grant will be benefiting, and I talk about the center and Emily.
I look at Kristin and notice she’s looking at me strangely.
“Did I spill coffee on me?” I look down and make sure I didn’t carelessly spill it on me while I was talking.
“No. I’ve never seen that look on your face when talking about a woman.”
“Um. What look?”
“The look of you might like her.”
“I do like her. She’s an inspiration to be around.”
“Not that kind of like, Patrick.”
“Oh.”
“Speechless? I do think you’re smitten with Ms. Janes. And if she can put a smile on your face, I’m all for it.” She smiles. “Anything else I need to do?”
“No, that’s all for now.”
“I’ll be at my desk if you need anything further.”
“Thank you, Kristin.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiles and exits the office, closing the door behind her, and her statement makes me question myself.
Does Emily besot me? I have my answer instantly, without a doubt. She’s someone who I find fully engaging, someone who I enjoy having a conversation with, someone who I’d want to be around more than just for sex.
I chuckle at the last thought, because it’s been a while for sex or anything sexually stimulating. The last time I had a steady girlfriend was college…five or six years ago, I think. This company became everything, my life, and honestly, I wouldn’t change it. If I would do a better job of balancing my personal life and business life, then maybe I could have a steady relationship, a relationship with someone like Emily.
She seems like the type of person that would understand that it takes hard work and long hours to accomplish goals in the business world. Several of the women I dated in college where high maintenance. I mean I enjoy looking at a woman who takes pride in their appearance, but when they call or text every ten minutes or expect gifts all the time, it’s too much. Way too much for me.
I’m sure that’s partly because of the way I grew up. I don’t ever remember my father getting my mom anything, but he isn’t the best example to use of how a man should treat a woman… Enough of thinking about women, my father, and life. I need to get things completed so I can leave in a few hours.
The house I spent the first eighteen years of my life still looks the same as I pull up in front of the dilapidated structure. The sage colored paint is fading and the roof needs to be replaced. The house hasn’t changed at all in nine years. I haven’t been back since I left. As I sit in my car waiting for Addison to arrive, I review the files that Kristin emailed me to review.
She’s finished the file for Project Hope Outreach Program and it’s flawless. There shouldn’t be an issue getting it approved by the board. I check a few other emails, nothing that needs an immediate reply and I can address them tomorrow.
I push the power button, turning the screen off on my phone and look in my rearview mirror to see Addison pulling in behind me. Perfect timing. I get out of my car and wait for her by the rear of my car.
“Hey, sis. How was class,” I ask as we walk toward the house.
“Easy day. Math and English.” She grins. “You know that stuff you don’t know.” She sticks her tongue out at me.
“Don’t call me when you can’t figure out how to use the quadratic equation,” I deadpan.
“The quadi what?” she says, confused because she’s not a math person at all.
“I suggest you refer to me the math king.”
“Yeah, yeah. I could call you Paddycakes and you’d still help me.” I laugh because when she was little she called me her Paddycakes because I used to sing the nursery rhyme to her.
“You’re probably right.” I gently bump into her while walking to the front of the house.
“Are you okay being here?” She looks a little worried when we reach the door.
“Yes, I’m fine. Let’s get inside so I can get in and get out of here.
“Okay.” She unlocks the door and the familiar mustiness of the old house hits my nose. The smell is one I’ll never forget.
“Everything in the same place?” I ask before I head to the right.
“Yes, nothing has changed. Even your room is still the same. I’ll begin in his bedroom. He keeps things in there too.” I nod and head to his office.
When the man was sober, he was meticulous and brilliant with numbers, and kept everything organized in his office. I’m sure he’s where I get my love of math from, but I think that’s all. He loved women and alcohol more than his family, actually I think just me because Addison said he’s fatherly to her. I’d still like to know what I did to him to get him to hate me so much.
The room smells like stale cigarettes as I enter—this is the only room he smokes in. You’re worthless, echoes in my head as I look around, and everything has a thin coating of sticky tar. I can’t wait to get out of here, away from the voice. Around the room are bankers boxes and each one is labeled with a year, some boxes have multiple years.
I don’t remember seeing these boxes in here, but this room was off limits to my sister and me unless we were in here with dad, and I could have easily missed them. Sitting down in the old brown leather chair at the desk, I swivel the chair around and open the box closest to me, a box from six years ago.
As I look into the box and look through the papers, I see they aren’t what I am looking for. Instead, the box holds newspaper clipping from when I was college and what looks like to be letters. I pull one out of the envelope and read it…it’s a letter from the Carlino’s to my father, letting him know how I was doing.
They kept in touch with my father? How did I not know? I don’t know if
I should be angry or happy right now. I return everything to the box and put the lid back on. I grab another box, the year I graduated from high school. The contents are the same as the first box. I put it down and go to another box, but the year is labeled with an A. Inside the box is Addison’s school work and accomplishments.
He saved everything? I don’t understand. He kept track of me even though he hated me? I’m at a loss right now.
“Addison?” I yell for her. A few moment pass and I can hear her running down the stairs.
“You yelled?”
“Yeah. Have you looked through these boxes?”
“Nooo. I didn’t even know they were in here.” She tilts her head to the side with a what the hell expression on her face.
“So they are new?” I question.
“New to me.” She shakes her head, trying to come up with an explanation.
“Each one is labeled with a year, and has mementos from that year for either you or me. It’s like a scrapbook in a box.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No. It’s crazy. Why would he keep track of me? The man hates me. Why would he keep my memories around?”
“I don’t know. I wish I did. Like I said, he never said anything about you at all. Basically, he made sure I had whatever I needed and worked.”
“Nothing makes sense… I don’t know what to think. Any ways, did you find anything upstairs?”
“No. Anything down here yet?”
“Nothing. Do you see any boxes without years on them? Maybe that’s where we should start?”
“Let me look…” She walks around the room looking at each box. “No. Did you try the desk?”
I’m an idiot. “Not yet.” I turn the chair around, swiveling it back to the desk. In the middle drawer, I see only a few pens and paper clips, and a set of keys. I open the top drawer on the right side and it’s full of note cards. I try the second drawer, locked, and I try the third, locked as well. I pick up the keys out of the middle drawer and try them in the lock. Bingo.
The second drawer pops open once the lock is unfastened. Expecting to find papers, I find photos instead, and pull them out. Photos of Mom, me, Mom and me, and Dad and me, and they have to be twenty-five years old. I don’t remember them. Everyone looks happy, even Dad. I put them on top of the desk, and Addison picks them up and smiles.
I open the third drawer and I think it finally has what I’m looking for. A thick warn manila packet with Important Financial Documents written in red ink on the front. I grab the dense file and untie the red string holding it closed. I pull out the papers inside and two smaller envelopes fall out into my lap, and I place the papers on the desk and pick up what fell.
I turn them over and notice that our names written on the front of the envelopes, one for Addison and the other for me. I’ll worry about these later. I place them on the desk and go through the papers. Half way through the file and I find it, Last Will and Testament.
“Found it, Addison.” Skimming through the document, I read he has asked not to be resuscitated. “He has a Do Not Resuscitate order. So we need to let the hospital know.”
“Okay,” she says, tearing up.
“It’s a lot to take in, I know. I should have been here for you more.” I get up, walk around the desk, and hug her.
“Patrick, I’m going to be alone…I have nowhere to go.” Shit. I didn’t think about that.
“Don’t you worry about it. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“I don’t even know what to think right now,” she says, wiping her face on my chest.
“Let me get Dad and all of his financials sorted so we know what is going on and then we will know where we need to go from there.”
“Okay.”
“Oh,” I say letting go of her and pick up the letter on the desk addressed to her, “this is for you.” She takes it out of my hand and looks at it.
“That’s Dad’s writing.”
“I know.”
She sits on the edge of the desk and gently opens the envelope and pulls out the tri-folded piece of paper. I watch her eyes read line by line, word by word as the tears stream from her eyes. When she finishes, she holds the letter close to her chest and sobs. I pull her into my chest and comfort her. I have no idea what the letter even says.
“You need to read yours,” she says in between gasps.
“I will when you’re calmed down.” I can feel her nod into my chest and I hold her until her breathing evens out.
“Please make sure you read yours, it’s in my letter to make sure you do.”
“Okay.” I pick up the letter and open it.
“I’m going to get a glass of water, do you want one?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m not going to be here much longer since we found what we need.”
“Alright. I’m going to go shower before I go to the hospital.” I nod, opening the letter.
Dear Patrick,
I’m sure you’re confused about everything you found in my office. I wish I could have been man enough to explain it to you in person, but since you’re reading this, I’ve probably passed on.
Let me by saying I’m proud of the man you’ve become. You’re honorable, successful, and compassionate. I’m sorry I wasn’t the best father to you. I didn’t want you to turn out like me and the only way I knew to do that was to push you away. I saw so much of myself in you and it scared me.
Before I met your mother, I was rough and wild. I danced with the law several times and stayed the night at jail few times for public intoxication, but back then, it wasn’t a big deal like it is now. I was heading down a road of destruction until I met her. She made everything change…until the first time I raised my hand to you, and I couldn’t stop until I made sure you turned out nothing like me.
I pray to God everyday that you’ll turn out nothing like me, especially when it comes to being a coward like me. From what I can see, you haven’t. You’re the son I’ve always been proud to have, but too stupid to honor.
I know this is a shit attempt to apologize, and there aren’t enough apologies in the world to tell you how sorry I am.
I hope I haven’t left you and your sister with a lot of debt. There is money is the false bottom of the drawer you got this letter from and a few insurance policies. I hope it helps.
Please take care of Addison. She loves you and you mean the world to her.
Love,
Your father
Harrold F. Matheson
I crumble up the letter and throw it. How in the fuck can he tell me everything in a damn letter?
“Argh!” I knock several boxes to the floor, their contents flying everywhere. Shit.
“Are you okay,” Addison breathlessly asks as she runs back into the room.
“Yes, I read my letter.”
“Did yours tell you about the money?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Everything should be taken care of.”
“I think so.”
“I need to get out of here. I’m feeling closed in here, I’m suffocating.”
“Alright. Do you want me to tell the hospital about the will?”
“No, I’ll do it. It lists me as the executor of the estate. I’ll call them tomorrow. Enjoy your night with him.”
“I will,” she says as she gives me a hug.
I pick up the wadded up letter and files and carry them out to the car, and throwing everything in the passenger seat when I get in. I need to talk to someone…
My phone rings as I put my SUV in reverse and I answer, not waiting for Siri’s voice to play through the speakers.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Um. That’s a first. Daddy a few times, but definitely not mom.”
“Oh shit. Sorry. I assumed you were my mom. She calls me about this time most days.” I giggle. “And I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”
“I can let you go.”
“Nooo! That’s not what I meant. I mean, how are you? I swear som
e days my mouth opens before I think about what I’m saying.”
He laughs. “Well, can I take you up on that friend thing? I really could use your opinion.”
“Of course.”
He begins by telling he was at his parents’ house and everything he found and the letter. I can hear the pain and emotion in his words, and I bet his heart is thumping and his palms are sweating because he is talking so fast. I actually can’t believe he called me for my opinion.
“I don’t know what to think. I…I’m somewhat lost here. What do you think?”
What do I think? I don’t even know what to think. I really want to see the letter, but I really don’t think this something that should be discussed over a phone call.
“I think we should have this conversation face to face. We’re both driving and these are your emotions we are talking about.”
“Come to my house for dinner?”
His house? Dinner? Can I trust him? I mean I know of him, but do I know him? Yes, I can trust him, and he did say the friend thing earlier.
“Sure. Time and address?”
“Six and I’ll text you so you can put it in your GPS.”
“Okay.”
“Any food you don’t like?”
“No, and no allergies either.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you in a few hours.” He hangs up.
I’m in a daze and I have to slam on my brakes, trying not to get hit by the idiot driving a Mustang that decided he needed to pass me and cut me off. After twenty minutes of dealing with rude drivers, I make it to my apartment, and run inside. I want to shower and change before I go to Patrick’s and I know I’m going to have to rush as I saw his address is southwest of the city on Rancho Verde
Ahhh! I don’t even know what I’m going to wear.
After my shower, I pick out a maxi skirt and T-shirt with a pair of sandals. I look nice and it’s comfortable. I pull my hair in a loose bun at my neck, and I apply a little makeup. I hope I met Patrick’s expectations. I grab my sunglasses, purse and keys, and head out the door.
I miss rush hour traffic and I’m pulling into his driveway thirty minutes after leaving my house. I know the houses in this area aren’t cheap, but I don’t see them as his style, or what I thought was his style. I keep learning new things about him every time we talk or I see him.