by Loretta Lost
Chapter Twenty-Three
I am holding my steering wheel tightly as I sit outside the rundown apartment complex in Brownsville. I have been sitting here for at least five minutes and hyperventilating. I do not want to go in there.
“Liam,” Helen says softly, touching my arm. “Relax. How bad could it be?”
“Bad. Really fucking bad.”
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she tells me. “I understand if you can’t. I just wanted to know you, Liam.”
“You do know me,” I tell her harshly, grabbing my keys and pushing my car door open. “You just wanted to humiliate me.”
Slamming my car door and walking toward the apartment building briskly, I don’t even wait for Helen to catch up. Normally, I’d do the gentlemanly thing and open her door and walk with her, but I can’t even be fucking bothered right now. I just want to get this over with.
The worst part of all this is that I actually do love my father. I actually do want to see him. I just know that he won’t want to see me, and that hurts more than anything. Climbing the stairs to the first level of the apartment building, I move through the building quickly.
I can hear Helen struggling to keep up behind me, but I don’t care. When I reach the apartment, I bang on the door marked #3. I swallow down a lump of bile and fear as I wait for the answer.
“Liam,” Helen says in surprise as she rushes to my side. “What’s wrong with—”
She stops speaking as the door opens to reveal a middle-aged man in a wheelchair. He is wearing a stained wife beater and holding a bottle of cheap beer. He stares at us for a moment before his face twists up into a toothless grin.
“Well, if it ain’t the fancy-ass doctor come home to visit his poor folks,” the man says bitterly. “I hope you brought some cash for us.”
“Yes, sir,” I say quietly, reaching into my pocket for my wallet. I don’t have much cash on me, but I pull out everything I have, and hand it to him. It’s a few hundreds, and it should last him a couple cases of beer. I am reaching out to hand him the money when he snatches it from my hand. The smell of his unwashed skin hits me, and I feel my stomach turning. “Sir,” I say awkwardly, “I wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend, Helen.”
“What? Girlfriend?” My father begins to snicker as he leers at Helen. “I thought you was bringing me home a prostitute to get my dick wet.”
Helen’s mouth is hanging slightly ajar in shock, and she turns to me with wide eyes. She immediately clears her throat and tries to force a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Larson,” she says, extending her arm for a handshake.
I step forward and intercept this motion, grasping Helen’s hand tightly. I don’t want my father to ever lay a hand on her. I swallow and turn to look at her fearfully, protectively standing between her and my father. Helen’s face seems puzzled. My heart is beating way too fast. What am I doing? The man is in a goddamned wheelchair! He’s no threat. Not anymore.
“You got yerself a fine looking piece of ass there, boy,” my father drawls, licking his lips. “Didja come to show her off to me or sumptin’? I ain’t jealous. When I was on tour, I had all the Persian pussy I wanted, any time, any way. Those women will do anything for a big strong American soldier, if ya know what I mean.”
My father winks and sniggers as he wheels the chair back into the apartment. “Come in, come in! Say hello to your stupid whore of a mother. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, if she can even tell that you’re in the room.”
“Liam,” Helen whispers, gripping my hand in horror. “Oh my god.”
“You wanted to meet my family,” I tell her sarcastically. “Be polite, Helen. You need to make a good impression on your future in-laws.”
“Hey, Janet!” my father shouts across the room. “Our boy has finally got himself a woman! And all these years, I thought he was a faggot.”
I’ve heard these words so many times that they don’t even cause me to flinch anymore, but I can feel Helen cringing in disgust. I guide her into the room, walking slowly behind my father’s wheelchair. The man might have some mobility issues, but I still expect him to pull out a gun and shoot me at any moment.
When we get far enough into the apartment to see my mother, I find myself swallowing back a lump of emotion. The poor woman’s hair is completely white, and she sits on an old sofa, flipping through the pages of a tattered book.
“Mama?” I ask softly, fighting back tears.
Her head lifts slowly from the pages of the book, and I can immediately see that her eyes are glossed over with milky cataracts. I inhale sharply in alarm, unable to believe that my mother’s health has declined so much in the past few years since I’ve visited.
There is no way in hell that she was able to read that book. She is in desperate need of eye surgery, and I can’t believe that my father has neglected her so much. Letting go of Helen’s hand, I move to where my mother is sitting and crouch down before her, taking the book away from her.
“Mama,” I say softly, touching her hands. “Do you remember me?”
For a moment, I seem to think that recognition passes over her face, but she does not speak. She learned long ago that speaking her mind would only earn her a slap across the face from a man twice her size. Taking a deep breath, I turn back over my shoulder to look at Helen.
The expression on her face is unreadable to me. I can see that her pupils are dilated, and that a muscle in her jaw is twitching. Is she horrified? Is she disgusted? Does she want to run from this apartment, and far away from me, forever? I knew she would.
How could any woman walk into this foul-smelling place and not realize that I’m not the handsome, intelligent doctor I pretend to be? I’m just scum.
“He always was such a fucking mama’s boy,” my father says with a sneer. “I can’t believe he can get it up for a woman at all.” My father rolls his wheelchair closer to me and slams the metal edge into my side. “Ain’t you a faggot, Liam? Chumming around with that Owen kid for years. Weren’t you sucking his dick?” He laughs and lifts his beer bottle to hit me in the face.
But that’s happened so many times throughout my life that it’s gotten old. I catch the bottle in my fist, and slowly rise to my feet. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to punch my father in his ugly fucking face. I stand there, seething in rage as every muscle in my body grows tense. When I feel Helen’s small hands on my body, trying to pull me away from my father, I realize that she thinks I’m seconds away from killing the poor bastard.
If only she knew. I’m always seconds away from killing this man.
It is only Helen’s touch that reminds me to calm down. I release my grip on the beer bottle that I have been holding so tightly that I might have shattered the glass in my palm. I try to take a few deep breaths to ease my blood pressure. I feel like there must be fire coming out of my nostrils.
“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Larson,” Helen says softly, trying to pull me away from the wheelchair. “I just remembered that we have something really important to do on the other side of town.”
“Going so soon?” my father says in mock disappointment. “I thought you’d stay long enough to hear all the stories about what a little piece of shit Liam was as a kid.”
Leaning forward, I slam my hands down on the sides of my father’s wheelchair. “I’d watch that filthy mouth of yours, if I were you, Pops. Don’t forget who put you in that fucking wheelchair.”
My father’s eyes widen and he recoils in fear. “It was in Ir—Iraq,” he stutters. “My convoy was hit by an IED. There were no survivors except for...”
“Except for your bullshit,” I hiss into his face. “You’re right, Pops. I was a little piece of shit. I shouldn’t have just put you in a wheelchair. I should have put you into the fucking ground. Letting you live was the worst mistake of my life.”
“Liam!” Helen says softly, wrapping both her hands around my arm. “Liam! Let’s get out of h
ere. Please.”
My head snaps toward her and I can feel the rage burning in my eyes. “Why? Aren’t you having fun? Didn’t you want to meet the family?”
“Liam,” she says desperately. “God, I’m so sorry. Let’s just go.”
The old man in the wheelchair begins to snicker again. The foul odor of his rotting teeth hits me in the face, bringing back years of childhood abuse and neglect. I turn toward him slowly, waiting for the next sentence that will come out of his mouth. Anything. Anything at all will do. Give me a reason, Pops. I just need a fucking reason to bust your face open.
“Do you let this bitch boss you around, boy?” my father asks me with a grin. “You’ll do whatever she says, just so she’ll open up her legs and let you get a taste of that—”
My mind goes blank for the next few minutes. I don’t remember what I did, other than possibly ripping my father out of his wheelchair and beating his face to a bloody pulp.
The only thing I remember is Helen screaming my name, over and over, and her hands on my body, trying to pull me away. It is only when I feel the moisture of her tears on the back of my neck, and feel her arms tightly wrapped around my body do I manage to gather my senses and calm down. The whole world is fuzzy with my rage. My hands are shaking, and my heart is pounding like a jackhammer.
“Let’s go,” Helen whispers as she kisses my skin. “Please, Liam. Let’s go.”
I nod slowly, reaching up to touch her arm to let her know that I’m okay. The danger’s over. I never wanted her to see me like that, but I suppose it’s too late now. I notice that my knuckles are covered in blood when I touch Helen’s arm, and I pull away. Glancing back at my father, I see him moaning and squirming on the ground. I guess I didn’t kill him. How disappointing.
“Liam?” Helen says softly as she tries to pull my arm. I am stuck in place like some kind of immovable giant. “Come on,” she pleads.
I nod again, and begin to follow her out of the apartment. The world moves by in a blur, and I find myself somehow sitting in the passenger seat of my car. Helen is in the driver’s seat, and grasping the steering wheel and crying softly. When I am aware enough to reach out and touch her back, she turns around to smile at me.
“I’m so sorry,” she says through her tears. “I didn’t know. I had no idea.”
“Now you know,” I tell her. “You were right. It’s important to meet a man’s family before you decide to marry him. I was concealing information from you. No decent girl should marry a man like me. I’m a fucking monster.”
“What?” she says brokenly. She holds out her palm to me. “Give me back the ring.”
I stare at her in confusion, shaking my head in refusal. “No. What are you talking about? You can’t marry me after this. Fuck. Even I forgot that I could be like that. The last time I got like that was over Carmen’s husband, but even then... I had some control.”
“Liam,” Helen says softly. “Give me the fucking ring!”
When I stare at her blankly, she climbs over the center console and straddles me, reaching into my pocket to withdraw the small metal object. She slides it onto her own finger and looks at it proudly before wrapping both of her arms around my neck. “Dr. Liam Larson,” she says softly, putting her forehead against mine and briefly kissing my lips; “my amazing, badass, brilliant, loving boyfriend. Will you please marry me as soon as humanly possible? Because I am never letting you go.”
I stare at her in utter disbelief for a moment. Is she making fun of me? Wrapping my arms around her small body, I hold her close to me. I can feel my body responding to the way she’s sitting on me, but I ignore this. “Helen, I really can’t take it if you’re joking with me about this. This was a humiliating and wretched experience that...”
She shuts me up by placing another kiss against my lips. “I love you, you stupid dolt,” she says with a sly smile. “I’d just forgotten who you were. Yes, this was a disaster—but I understand you so much better now.”
I nod slowly. “The truth is, Helen, you already met my real father. My judo teacher, James? He was the only man I could look up to. I was abused for years before I met him, but he picked me up and made me into someone new. Into someone strong. Everything I am is because of that man, and he’s who I think of when I try to think of family. Him and Owen.”
Helen nods, placing kisses all over my face. “Well, that’s about to change. I’m going to be your family from now on, Liam. If you’ll have me.”
“Of course, I’ll have you!” I tell her harshly, clenching my hands around her hips and pulling her more tightly against me. “I’ve only been begging you to marry me every day for an eternity.”
“Now I’m ready,” she tells me. “I’m so ready. Let’s go home and tell my dad that you’re engaged. You can share my family. And someday soon, we can maybe start on of our own.”
I wrap a hand around her neck and pull her close for a fierce and desperate kiss. “Someday soon?” I ask her with an impatient growl. Reaching down, I begin to fumble with my belt buckle. “How about now?”
“Yes, please,” she says breathlessly.
Epilogue
Helen Winters
A decade later...
Sitting in my limo, I use the mirror of my makeup compact to do the finishing touches on my lipstick as I wait for Liam to get out of work. He should be here by now. What’s taking him? I am reaching for my phone and about to call him when the limo door opens and Liam climbs in, wearing a white coat over scrubs.
“Oh my god,” I say in exasperation. “Husband! Did you forget that tonight was the movie premiere?”
“Helen, my love, relax,” he says, moving over to give me a kiss. He holds up a duffel bag. “I’ve got a change of clothes right here. I was delayed by performing surgery on a really smart and adorable little girl. She’s been having difficulty in school because no one could figure out that she can’t read due to vision problems. She was memorizing all the books she read for years, to try and convince everyone that nothing was wrong with her.”
“Poor thing,” I say softly. “That reminds me of when Summer first started reading.”
Liam chuckles. “When she memorized everything to try to keep up with her brother, and convince him that she could read better than him?”
“Yes. But less talking and more dressing!” I snap at him. “Did you forget about David’s exhibit? We’re already late!”
“Not too late to drink some of the free champagne,” Liam says with a grin as he slides off his pants.
I am distracted for a moment by the sight of his muscled legs, and black silk boxers. It’s funny: all these years of marriage and I still feel the same way about him as I did the first time I laid eyes on him. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Liam was the first man, and first person, that I was ever able to see, but I think it’s just because he’s so remarkable, inside and out. And he’s mine.
“Why are you staring at me, Mrs. Larson?” Liam asks me flirtatiously as he pulls on his suit. “Would you like to come over here and make our limo ride a little more enjoyable?” He pats the seat beside him, and I am definitely tempted.
“I would, but the gallery’s not far from here,” I say in disappointment. “We should be there in under ten minutes.”
Liam chuckles softly as he adjusts his tie. “I can work with ten minutes.”
“Or you can be patient and wait for tonight,” I tell him with a smile. “Carmen’s watching the kids and I’ve rented us a hotel room. I figured we should celebrate my third book being made into a movie, and you being invited to speak at Columbia—again.”
Fastening cufflinks on either side of his wrists, Liam looks up at me with a grin. “But it’s never too early to start celebrating, my love.” He moves over to where I’m sitting in the limo, and slides his hand over my smooth thigh, inching under my pale chiffon dress. “I’ve missed you all day.” He presses his lips against my neck gently, before moving to my lips.
“Lipstick!” I warn him, and he
groans in disappointment. The limo door opens at that moment, and I see that we have arrived at the gallery. The driver offers me a hand to help me out, and I grab my purse and accept it graciously.
“Have a lovely evening, Mr. and Mrs. Larson.”
“Thank you, Jonathan.” Reaching into my purse, I grab my phone and turn to Liam. “I’m just going to check on the kids, real fast.”
“You don’t have to,” Liam tells me gently, grasping my elbow. “Carmen’s got it handled. She’s a supermom now, remember?”
I smile. “Just a quick phone call,” I say, dialing home.
Carmen answers after two rings. “What’s up, sis?” she asks cheerfully.
“Just checking in! How are the kids?”
“Well, I have good news and bad news,” Carmen says with a sigh. ““The babies are already sleeping peacefully. But Owen took Summer and Logan out to play laser tag with their cousins. I’m sorry, Hellie, I know you’re all about the ‘educational games only.’”
My lips quirk upward in a smile. “Really? I’ve become such a grumpy old woman, haven’t I?”
“No,” Carmen says with a laugh. “You were always a grumpy old woman, sis.”
Liam is tugging my arm and dragging me into the gallery, and I make a face at him. “Gotta go, Carm. Gonna check out some of David’s sexy nude paintings.”
“Ohhh. Bring me back something pretty!” Carmen says happily. “Actually—don’t. It’ll be covered in crayon within 24 hours.”
I smile as I hang up the phone and follow Liam into the gallery. Once I am inside, I tuck my phone away immediately to gaze around at the paintings in awe. Wow. David really made a name for himself over the years. He really took it to the next level.
“This is incredible,” Liam says in reverence. “To think that we met this guy in the middle of nowhere!”
“Well, he’s definitely somewhere now,” I agree. A familiar sound causes me to swivel around. It’s a bark. It doesn’t sound exactly like it used to, but I would recognize that bark anywhere. “Snowball!” I squeal, lowering myself as my old puppy runs toward me and begins licking at my face and hands. “Oh my god, Liam! Snowball got so old and fat.”