“You still do that.”
“What?”
“At the shop, when you get stuck in the office for too long, you stare out the window and wish you were outside.”
“Huh,” he said thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess I do.” They both grinned.
“I missed my happy family. I’d grown used to mom not being around much, but it was like losing my dad. Suddenly it felt like the sun just stopped coming up.” Paul looked at Rhees with sad eyes. “I’m sorry. That trivializes what you’ve gone through. You really did lose your parents. I just lost the good times.”
“Your world went from one happy, loved and cared-for reality, to a lonely reality of neglect. You were just a little boy. I’m sure it was a loss all the same.” It hurt Rhees to think of three babies, her beautiful baby, locked in a room all day like that.
“Maybe,” he muttered. “Pete started school and it was just Mare and I. He was only gone part of the day, but I counted the seconds he was gone, envied him. I loved Mary so much. She was so tiny, and cute, and helpless. I’d climb into her crib and play with her while Pete was at school. I’d make faces so she’d laugh. She was the sweetest thing. I’d get so angry, to think she’d never know what she was missing. She’d never know the good times.” He changed the subject.
“Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep when I’m alone. We went from being practically on top of each other, stuck together in that tiny little room, day and night, to what came next.”
“And the reason you hate confinement,” she added. “The reason you pay a fortune for hotel suites with lots of rooms, and the reason you like my humongous apartment.” Rhees laughed at the last part. Her apartment was tiny, but it was a mansion compared to his.
She’d become so interested in his story. This felt like old times, in reverse—she usually told the long stories. She turned her back to Paul and burrowed into his front, making herself comfortable and making him spoon her, the way they always did at home. He put his arms around her and nestled his face in her hair and inhaled her scent.
“Aw Baby,” he breathed. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you. I’ve been so worried.”
“I’m sorry.” She went still from the reminder. He noticed and started to pull away to give her space.
“No, don’t let go. I want you to hold me.” She was determined to believe that. She forced herself to believe it.
He breathed relief and snuggled back around her.
“Please, keep going,” she said, desperate to get her mind on something else besides the horrible incident that had ruled her life.
“Let’s see.” He thought a moment. “I’ll jump ahead a little or this is going to take weeks. Mom finished her residency and started a job at the hospital in Boston, but my parents fought about it. Their list of things to fight about grew by the month. Dad wanted to go back to the sand and surf, but mom loved the east coast. Things got pretty bad for a while, until they finally compromised by moving us to Miami.
“Dad hadn’t told anyone, including mom, how his business was really going until we moved. She knew he’d been dabbling with a few investments, and that things were looking up, but she didn’t know how up. He’d been reinvesting instead of taking the money we could have used to live on, so she really didn’t know how successful he’d become.
“We loaded up the rented moving van and headed to our new house, the one he’d bought as a surprise. He made us all close our eyes as we pulled up the driveway. I remember him watching my mom’s face after he’d led us, eyes closed, out of the van so he could line us up in front of the house and yell, ‘surprise’.
“Of course Mary and I had opened our eyes already, but I didn’t understand what I was seeing. Mom gasped, and then she cried. She hugged him, jumping all over him and peppering him with kisses. I remember thinking that things were finally going to be good again, seeing them act so loving with each other. At the time, I didn’t realize it had more to do with the new house than the family. The thing was even bigger than the grandparents’ Big-Ass House. My mom’s happiness had more to do with her being reinstated to her social status than us.”
Rhees frowned at the sadness of his statement but didn’t interrupt.
“Each of us had our own, gigantic bedroom, bigger than yours and my apartments combined, but I hated it, sleeping alone in that big, scary room. About a year later, mom moved into her own room too. Pete tried to explain to me once why we didn’t want our parents not sleeping in the same bed anymore, but somehow, all I got out of his talk was that everyone hated sleeping by themselves. I did, so I didn’t understand—if we all hated it, then why did we have to?
“We didn’t have to be locked away anymore. Pete was in school, and I was about to start. The parents hired a nanny for Mare, another one for Pete and me. We had a cleaning staff too, and after eating what we could afford on a poor student’s budget for so long—my mom found Carmen to do the cooking.” Paul’s laughter had a hint of evil to it and Rhees knew there was more to the story than she could glean, but she didn’t want to interrupt him by asking about it.
“So, dad’s business had been going pretty well.”
“Pretty well?” Rhees giggled. “That sounds a bit understated after all you’ve described.”
“Aw, I’ve missed that sound.” He kissed her cheek and held her tighter. “I love hearing you laugh again.”
“I’ve had a bit of a rough patch.”
“A bit of a rough patch,” he said as casually as she had. “It’s my turn to let you know what an understatement your description is.”
“I hate what I’ve put you through. I’m sorry.” Rhees held his arms to her, finding comfort with the closeness this time, something she’d wondered about, worried it might never feel good again. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his palm, remembering how impossible the thought had seemed over the last week. “Keep talking. It’s helping.”
“Can we switch sides? My arm is falling asleep.” He’d failed to mention how he’d been laying on his wounded arm for too long and it was killing him. Since she’d been the one to initiate the position, he’d willingly suffered through the ache for as long as he could stand. He flipped her around in an instant, and they wriggled themselves into each other to get comfortable again.
“So yeah, maybe his business went a little better than just well. Dad had capitalized on my mom and grandfather’s social circles and reputations, but in the end, he’d built a reputation of his own, started a ball rolling that would just keep getting bigger and crazier.”
Paul tried to explain his dad’s business to her, something about acquisitions, and hostile takeovers, but she eventually admitted she would never understand, and asked him to move on.
“Both of my parents were so wrapped up in their careers and growing social lives, they didn’t even try to act like a real family, anymore. We lived on the beach, but never spent one minute there together, even though I stupidly asked almost every day for the first year. They ran the family like a business, all bottom line and public image management.
“The last thing I wanted was all the attention they both seemed to live for. I had my own room, free roam of the house and grounds, and a hired staff to take care of the physical needs, but I think I still felt like a prisoner. The bigger jail cell just meant I was lonelier without my brother and my sister within an arm’s length all the time.
“By the time I was ten, dad had started giving me little assignments, watching numbers, research, that sort of thing. He’d somehow picked up on the way my head works. I think it started as a hunch, but by twelve, by trying to earn his approval, I’d unwittingly proved him right. He’d have his driver pick Pete and me up after school a couple days a week, and drop us off at the office to help him. My ability to sort through and remember details made me suited for the job, but Pete sucked at it, so I helped him.
“It didn’t matter how much I helped my brother, he couldn’t keep up, and dad noticed. He was careless, heartless. He gave me the bigger projects, bigger commissions, a pittance of what I was earning for him, but as a young kid, it was all the money in the world. Because I was helping Pete just enough to convince dad he could do it, dad started saying that Pete just needed a little kick in the ass—I mean butt.” He stopped talking and glanced at Rhees, contemplating something.
“My mom would like you.” He strained at a smile as he veered off subject for the moment. “Taye and the guys, we used the worst language around each other. We all had controlling parents. It had to be a rebellion thing or something. Swearing made us feel more grown up, I guess. It almost became a contest to see who could say fu . . . the f-word the most.
“By the end of junior high, my attitude had grown so bad, I stopped using filters. It was one way to defy my parents, and there really wasn’t a thing they could do about it. Send me to my room? The room I’d been sneaking in and out of for years? I guess they could’ve kicked me out, disowned me, but I doubt Laird was willing to lose his greatest asset.” Paul huffed a laugh, but it didn’t come from any humor in what he’d said.
“Anyway, I said what I wanted. It didn’t matter who I was with anymore. My mom hated it. I embarrassed her in front of her friends. She’d ask why I always had to be such an ass. Now, with you, my regal princess, you make me want to watch what I say.” He smiled, genuinely this time. “And yes, my mom said ass when asking me why I had to use so many filthy words.”
Rhees liked how he’d anticipated her question. She thought of another. “Will I ever get to meet her?” She regretted asking when she saw the sting flash across his eyes. “Never mind. I know you never want to go back to Florida.”
“I’m sorry, Rhees. I kind of walked into that one, didn’t I? I can never go back to Florida.”
She actually turned and kissed his cheek to show her empathy for the ghosts of his past. He responded by resting his forehead on hers, letting out a long, grateful exhale. She put her hand on the side of his face and kissed him again, lightly on the lips.
“Then what happened?”
Paul pushed another long and loud breath through his lips and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.
“Dad started screwing his secretary. Pete and I were right there, at the office when he did it. He’d send us out to her desk to answer the phones. You remember, I was eleven when—I knew what the fuck was happening!”
So much for filtering his language for her, but Rhees knew him too well to mind. The memory really upset him. His swearing always got worse when he was angry or upset about something. Paul’s attempt at language control was a self-imposed crusade anyway. She’d never complained about his cursing, even though she couldn’t say the same about him concerning hers.
She finally realized what Paul was doing. He’d promised to tell her why he ran away from home if she’d tell him why she didn’t like to be touched. She’d told her story, unintentionally, but she’d confessed why she didn’t like to be touched, and now he wanted to keep his end of the deal. She scooted closer, leaned over him so he’d look at her. She put her hand on the side of his face again and gave him a sympathetic look. He closed his eyes, covered her hand with his and held it there.
“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.
“Yeah, I do.”
Rhees understood the story would only get harder to tell, but he continued. She lay back down, facing him, very close, letting him know she was there for him.
“For the next few years, it made me anxious, tore me up inside, worrying about what would happen if mom found out. Things were scary enough, all the fighting, the pretending. It terrified me to think of what would happen to our family. I didn’t want to lose what little I was so desperately hanging on to.
“If there was one thing I knew Pete was better at than I, it was love. He was older than me and had a good head start. He always had a girlfriend, and I’d listen to him go on and on, declaring his undying love for her, until the next one came along, a month later. I still bought it.
“I’d never been in love. I’d lost my virginity, and I’d had way too much sex for someone my age, but I’d never felt anything for any of the girls. They were just there, always offering, and I was always horny, so I didn’t see any reason not to.
“Pete was the only other person who knew what dad was doing. He was the only person I could ask, so I tried to talk to him about our parents, get his advice. He said, ‘It’s just sex. It doesn’t mean he loves Eve’, dad’s secretary, ‘and it doesn’t mean he doesn’t still love mom’. That sounded logical to me. I’d never found a connection between the two, but it didn’t relieve my fear of what would happen to my family if my mom found out about it.
“I grew to hate dad for being so reckless with all our lives. Eventually I found myself resenting mom too, for working such long hours when she should have been home. Now I understand their problems ran deeper than I understood, but if you make a promise—you shouldn’t make promises you don’t plan to keep!”
Rhees understood now why it was so important for Paul to keep his word, but talking about it had worked him up. She snuggled against him again, hoping to soothe him and quiet him down. He took a deep calming breath.
“By fourteen, I couldn’t take it anymore. All the fear and anxiety tore me up. I didn’t think things could be much worse, so I decided it might be better to just get it over with. I told mom about dad’s affairs. She was a smart woman, had a successful career, she didn’t need him. I would be there for her, Pete and Mare too. We’d all move on, cut the poison from our lives, and build something new, something better.” He laughed at his own naivety.
“She told me to mind my own business. She knew—she already knew, and she actually got angry with me for telling her. Somehow I’d become the bad guy, just for knowing about it, or admitting it out loud. Heaven forbid. She didn’t seem to care so much about dad’s behavior, but that I knew about it, or that I might tell someone else. That’s what set her off.
“I don’t know. That did something to me. It finally shattered what little illusion I’d been hanging on to, snapped my last thread of hope about being a happy family, or that they even existed. That’s when I decided love and relationships were figments of our imaginations, just wishful, unrealistic thinking.
“I’d still do anything for Pete and Mare, but we’d started to drift—be pulled apart, with all the pressure. Since the move, we were always on show, the perfect couple, the perfect kids, the perfect clothes, cars, house, the perfect fucking life! It was a lie—all a big lie.”
Paul went on to explain the torturous pressure to exceed at everything. The growing expectations, the intolerance for failure, the temper tantrums, the ruthlessness, all added to his parents’ condemnation, especially his father’s, as he continued to work for his dad.
“They pressured us all, but Pete, he cracked or something. He wouldn’t let me help him with the business anymore. The pressure to keep up—keep up with me, because not only did I handle it, I made it all look easy.
“I had the credits I needed to graduate high school early, but I liked football and hanging with Taye and the guys—they’d become my new family. They were real. They never expected anything from me except what I wanted to give. So I’d show up at the high school every morning to spend time with them until the bell rang, then I’d hop in my car, run to the university
for classes, be back to have lunch with the guys. After lunch, I’d hang out in the coach’s office. He’d arranged to have me as his student aide one period, P.E. another, study hall, etc., to make it look like I had the classes I needed to play on the team. I mostly just studied or took classes online until practice.
“It became a fine line, hiding how easy it was for me. I didn’t like the attention I drew when I did too well, so I made a game of keeping people guessing. Blow one test out of the water, get the teachers wondering, and then make a stupid mistake on another. I didn’t want anyone to know, but at the same time, I drove myself, pushed myself, wondering if I’d ever find my limit.
“The more you do, the more people pile on, it’s never enough. The coach, the school, the university, mom, mostly my dad—and the business, but I gave them all what they wanted—right up to that last little bit that I had to hang on to for myself.
“There’s no time to think about how screwed up things are when your mind is busy. I liked the challenge, and it felt kind of like I was rubbing it in everyone’s—my parents’ faces. In my mind, everything I did became an effort just to mock them. They wanted perfection and I gave it to them, but they wouldn’t recognize it if it bit them on the butt.
“I made Salutatorian.” Paul laughed, really laughed, and didn’t stop as he coughed out the next words. “I could have been Valedictorian, easily, but it felt so good to be second place—just barely. I had to listen to mom and dad bemoaning, for days, but it was great. ‘How could you come so close but miss the mark? If you weren’t so lazy, if you’d just put in a little more effort’ . . . It was the ultimate, ‘give em the finger’.” He pumped his fist in the air.
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