by Dylan Allen
We turn toward the elevators, arms linked. “Shut up, Care Bear, you’re not exactly smelling Olay fresh yourself this morning.”
“Hey, I was up at the ass crack of dawn to catch my BFF so I could grovel before she went to work,” she says with a jab of her elbow to my ribs.
“Ow!” I exclaim. But her statement sobers me again. “Cara, thank you for coming here. I was going to call you as soon as I got back. I just needed a run to clear my head.”
She pushes the up button for the elevator and the door opens immediately, as we step inside she says, “Can we talk while you get ready for work? I don’t have rehearsal until noon, I thought maybe I’d ride up to Canary Wharf with you and we could talk on the way there, too.”
I knew she wasn’t just here to apologize, and I know this conversation is way overdue. “Sure, of course.” I sigh as I press the number eight for my floor.
We ride up in comfortable silence. When we get to my place I head straight to my bathroom, while Cara plops down on my couch, flips on the TV, and opens the bag of whatever she brought with her.
When I get out of the shower, she is in my room, lounging on my bed, flipping through my kindle.
“Addie, the shit you read. It’s all murder and mayhem! You need some romance on this kindle.”
“Ugh, please, Care, those stories are why you’re so boy crazy. No thanks,” I retort.
She throws a pillow at my back as I rummage through my underwear drawer. “You have no idea what you’re missing. I am going to download my favorite read for you…the main character, Kai, she is just like you, doesn’t want to fall in love, wants to do it all on her own. And then she meets Rhyson, and he wears her down with his persistence and fucking alpha protectiveness.” Her fingers move quickly over my kindle screen, and I know there is no point in protesting. I just roll my eyes and throw on my underwear.
“There, all done. It’s called My Soul to Keep. There is a second book. You’ll be gagging for it as soon as you finish book one. You can thank me later.”
She closes my kindle and turns those big, brown, all knowing eyes on me. “So, Addie, about yesterday...,” she says.
“I am sorry about everything I said, Cara,” I interrupt.
She puts her hands up. “No, babe, that’s not what I mean. I mean, about what I said. I did mean some of it. I do think you’ve denied yourself some of the things I think will make you happy.”
She sits up fully.
“I don’t think for a second your life is a waste. You have accomplished so much, Addie. More than most people I know. I just want to make sure you also listen to your heart. Don’t let your mother’s experiences, your father’s fuck ups, be what guide your life choices. You are not them. You don’t have anything to prove. You deserve to be happy.”
As she speaks, her eyes fill with tears she doesn’t shed. The earnestness in her tone grips my heart. I listen to what she is saying and try to absorb it because I know she is right. I have been so afraid I would end up like my mother, that I would be known as nothing more than the child of one of the most notorious criminals of our time, I have let it be the driving force in my life.
“And about Simon,” she says, this time with some caution in her voice.
“You can stop right there, Care. Simon doesn’t want me. At least not really. I mean, he is attracted to me, but he keeps doing this hot and cold thing. I’m not going there again. I’ve been burned twice.” I step into my skirt and zip up the back. I turn to face her, hands on my hips.
“Fine, fine,” she says, knowing when to concede. “But he’s got some really heavy shit going on in his life, Ad. Maybe he’s just trying to figure some of it out.”
“Well good for him. He can do that somewhere else. I am done being his punching bag. I don’t want to talk about him anymore.” I tuck my blouse in and run back to the bathroom to put my make up on. My hair goes up into a tight bun, and I’m ready to go.
I look at my best friend; she is observing me with a look of concern on her face. “What, Cara?” I exclaim.
“It’s nothing. I just know you were really into him and you being so casual about him seems forced.”
“Maybe it is, but I gotta fake it until I make it.” I shoot back, starting to feel irritated and wanting to avoid the subject. “Anyway, tell me all about Paris. When do you leave? Are you excited? Etoile?”
My subject change works and Cara launches excitedly into the topic of her new and exciting opportunity. I am grateful for the reprieve and excited to hear her good news.
I push all thoughts of Simon Phillips to the back of my mind as we board the southbound Northern Line train toward London Bridge.
September 19, 2014
“Hey, Kyle, it’s me. Can you meet me back at the flat when you get this? It’s important.” I press end as I leave the voicemail for my brother and pray he checks it. Just to be sure he gets my message, I also send him a text.
I hate being cryptic, but I don’t want to say anymore until I can actually talk to him. I was reeling from the news about our mother last night. I went to the gym and put an extra-long session which meant by the time I got home Kyle was passed out with Henry splayed on his chest. I put Henry in his crib, but didn’t wake Kyle up. Part of me didn’t want to disturb him, the other part was afraid if he woke up I would just blurt out the bad news, and I had no idea how he’d take it.
His text response comes back almost immediately.
Kyle: Sure. I’ll be home by 5:30.
“Fuck!” I mutter to myself. It was a quarter to five, and I need to leave right away if I was going to make it home in time to meet him.
I grab my backpack and run out of my office and smack into Addie and Matthew. They were clearly headed out, too. Together.
“Hey, Simon, mate!” Matt says in a tone that makes me want to punch his stupid face. I notice his hand on the small of Addie’s back, and I feel my jaw involuntarily clench. “Matthew, hello,” I return.
I force myself to look down at her and find she had a strange, strained smile on her face and her eyes are completely devoid of any warmth as she meets my gaze head on.
“Hi, Addie,” I say, knowing I sound about as warm as she looks. I could have sworn her eyes softened for a moment, but then the hardness is back and she only nods in response.
“We’re headed to The Duck and Waffle for a drink,” Matt offers uselessly.
“That’s nice,” I respond, not taking my eyes off Addie. She is having a drink with this twat?
“You headed home?” He prods when I don’t say anything else. I bring eyes back to him.
“Yeah, but actually I’ve just remembered an email I forgot to send.” No way in hell am I riding down the elevator with these two. Without another word, I turn and go back into my office and shut the door.
I stand there, my back against the door. My heart is racing. I want to punch something. I have no right to feel this way. But fuck, it hurts to see her with him.
I wait until I hear the elevator ding before I leave my office. When I am sure they’re gone, I run down the hall, catch the next elevator, and hustle home as quickly as I can.
“Kyle!” I call out as I walk in. But it’s Mercy’s head that pops out from the kitchen. “You boys are both home early.” She says with a huge smile on her face. “It’s so rare.”
I walk down the short hallway into the kitchen to see her. “Henry’s already had his bath and is sleeping. He had his occupational therapy today. The poor fella was tuckered out.” She says as she stirs whatever she has cooking on the stove top.
I press a quick kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, Mercy, you’re such a dream.”
Kyle walks into the kitchen and sits down at the bar. He has obviously been home long enough to change from whatever he’s been wearing into what I call his “home uniform” of basketball shorts and white sleeveless undershirt.
“So, what’s up, Simon? No small talk, please.” Kyle says. For once, he isn’t smiling. I immediately feel gui
lt and anxiety. I haven’t prepared myself for what I’ll say to him. I look at Mercy, who has stopped her stirring, and is looking between both of us.
“Boys, what’s going on?” She asks, looking just as nervous as I am feeling.
“Mercy, I am glad you’re here, actually. You’re family. You need to hear this, too.”
I sit down and sigh. I muster every bit of courage I have and look my brother in the eye. “Kyle, Send called today. It’s about Mum. She’s dead.”
Kyle, who is sitting up perfectly straight, leans forward. His eyes are grave as they pin mine. “What? I don’t understand? How can she be dead?” His voice is barely a whisper.
“She had cancer. They’d been treating her, but apparently there was nothing left for them to do.” I say this as calmly as I can. Looking into my brother’s eyes, registering the pain, shock, and anger growing there, I feel the same emotions rising in me.
“When did you find out, Simon?” Kyle asks me quietly. His face a mirror image of the anguish I am feeling at having to tell him this news.
“I found out yesterday.” I say quietly.
Kyle stands up and slams both fists on the table, his demeanor going from one of anguish to rage “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me yesterday, then?” he practically screams in my face.
I stand up, too, immediately on guard and alert
“When was I supposed to tell you? You were asleep when I got home, for fuck’s sake. Should I have woken you up?” I ask, trying to keep my tone low and even.
“Yes, Simon! You should have woken me up! This is the kind of shit you wake people up for!” he yells.
“You’ve been making decisions for me my whole fucking life, Simon. I am not a kid anymore. When are you going to stop trying to do everything on your own and let me fucking help you?” he asks, not yelling anymore, but his voice is still raised. His eyes are glassy with unshed tears as he looks at me. “I am your brother, not your son, Simon. You shouldn’t have dealt with this all by yourself yesterday.”
“Kyle, I…,” I am speechless, this is not the reaction I was expecting. I look to Mercy for help, but she is watching Kyle like she has never seen him before. Her tears flow freely as she stares at him with a look akin to awe on her face.
Kyle takes a deep breath and lets it out, trying to calm himself before he continues in a more measured tone. “Simon, I know you think you are responsible for everything that happened when we were kids. You’re not. Mom is. Dad is. Fuck, Child Welfare is. You, brother, are not. You were a kid, too.”
I sit back on the bar stool, unable to say anything. Kyle continues, “We’ve got Henry with us now, but you act like it’s all your responsibility. He is my nephew, too. She is my sister, too. She is my mother, too! Let me help, Simon. Stop trying to do it all on your own.”
He starts to pace as I sit there, dumbstruck.
“The other night when I walked in on you with that woman, I was so fucking happy. Until I realized where your mind would go. Simon, it was a long time ago. I am not saying I am 100% over what happened to me, but I have had enough therapy to know that in normal homes children who walk in on adults having sex aren’t normally forced to join in.” Kyle sits there with sad, wistful smile on his face, actually comforting me.
It was me who failed him so terribly all of those years ago. When I let our alcoholic mother and the monster she called her boyfriend molest my brother while I was out playing rugby. I’ll never forget the scene that greeted me when I walked in and caught them.
Mercy’s shocked, “Dear God!” pierces the room, and I suddenly remember she is still there. And it breaks me out of my dark thoughts.
Kyle walks over to her and sits next to her. “Mercy, it was a long time ago. Simon called the police, it’s why Mum is in jail. He spent more money than I think he actually had on therapists who have really helped me find ways to cope with what happened. It changed me forever, but I wasn’t left to go through it alone.” He glances up at me as he speaks.
I am so proud of my baby brother. He suffered an unspeakable betrayal at the hands of our mother. I’ve lived with the guilt of not being there for him and have done everything in my power since to protect him and help him heal.
“Simon. Please, stop living with this guilt. Stop living for everyone but yourself. You deserve some happiness, too.” Kyle looks at me imploringly.
“Kyle, how did you get so wise?” Mercy asks him.
“I got it all from my big brother,” He counters with a big grin.
Reaching across the bar to clap a hand on his shoulder, I say, “Kyle, we need to talk about Mum.” Knowing it will dramatically change the mood. But we have some major decisions to make.
It’s not lost on me when Kyle mentioned happiness, a pair of big golden eyes, framed by dark, thick lashes popped into my head. Right then, I make a decision. No more denying myself the first thing I have truly wanted in years.
But first things first. I turn my attention back to my brother and Mercy. We need to talk about what to do with our mother’s remains. It’s a hard conversation, but when we’re done, Kyle and I have made a decision about our family together and my load feels a little lighter.
September 25, 2014
“Hi, can I come in?” Matthew pops his head into my office, and I have to stifle a groan. He steps in before I can respond. This has become a pattern. He comes by every morning and instead of my abrupt and sometimes downright dismissive manner discouraging him, he seems emboldened by it.
I have no idea what to do about him. I want to tell him to leave me the fuck alone, but I also know how important this deal is to the firm, and while I can’t imagine he would actually be dickish enough to hold it over my head, I’ve seen a nastiness in him that makes me really nervous about crossing him.
And I actually have a question for him today, so I decide to use that to deflect his usual and inane small talk.
“Hey, Matt, good morning. Sure come in.” I say this with a commendable absence of sarcasm, considering he is already seated in one of the chairs across from me.
“I have a question about some of the disclosures you guys made last year in your Shoreditch project. Can we go over some of the attachments while you’re here?”
His face immediately lightens up; you would have thought I asked him if he wanted me to give him a lap dance. He jumps up from his seat and walks behind my desk.
“Sure thing, Ad.” His use of my nickname grates on my nerves, but I ignore it. The quicker I can get this done, the faster he will leave.
He stands behind me, and I start to open the files I need to discuss with him. His phone begins buzzing in his pocket. He pulls it out and glances down at it.
“Shit,” he mumbles as he appears to deliberate as to whether or not he should answer it.
“Do you need to get that?” I ask him as he just stares at his phone.
He presses the red decline button, muttering a decisive no. He puts his phone back in his pocket and smiles down at me. “Go on, show me what you need.”
I start to explain my confusion and pretty soon we are immersed in the work in front of us. His flirtatious demeanor is replaced with a focused one, and I try to forget my anxieties about being alone in my office with him.
Thirty minutes into our conversation my office door flies open and Simon walks in. His eyes blaze as he looks between Matthew and me. His jaw tenses. He looks amazing. God, why? Even when I hate him, I want him. I ache for him.
“Matt, I’ve been calling you.” His lips barely move as he grinds this out.
Matthew is smiling almost gleefully, when he says, “Oh, that’s odd, my phone hasn’t rung.”
My head snaps up to stare at him. What the fuck is he talking about?
“Are you ready for our meeting?” Simon asks. His eyes practically boring holes into Matthew. He has yet to even acknowledge me. I don’t know what I’ve done to piss him off now, but I am starting to feel pissed off myself.
Matthew, glances at his watch and sa
ys, “Well, we were supposed to meet forty-five minutes ago, and I’m meeting with Addie now. Can we reschedule for later today?”
“Actually, Matthew, I’m just about done with my questions, so don’t let me hold you up,” I interject. I am ready for both of these assholes to get the fuck out of my office.
“Oh, well, I just wanted to go over a few more things with you, Addie. Stuff I actually want you to take back to Jack.” His eyes flit back to Simon and he says very dismissively, “I’ll stop by your office later, mate.”
Simon’s right hand is clenching in sync with his jaw, and I just want him to leave. I haven’t really seen him since what happened at his apartment. I’ve studiously avoided him and having him in my office, looking like he wants to punch the wall is making me really uncomfortable.
“Fine, Matthew.” Without sparing me a glance he’s gone.
Matthew turns back to the document we have been reviewing and doesn’t say a word. I was actually done with my question when Simon came in, so I am waiting for him to tell me what else he has to say.
Yet, he continues to review the same document for a few minutes without saying a word.
“What else did you want to talk about?” I’m exasperated at this point and not really bothered about hiding it.
“Oh, nothing, Ad. I just wanted him to leave. Our meeting was forty-five minutes ago. He was calling me, but I am sure he was running late because of the baby.”
He says ‘baby’ with so much disdain I have to hide my flinch.
“Why did you say your phone didn’t ring?” I’m not sure why I am wading into this conversation with him, but I’ve spent time with “that baby” and I am pissed at the tone he is using right now.
“Because, like I told you before, he gets special treatment from everyone else. I won’t give it to him. That’s probably how he got this job. People making exceptions and excuses. I heard he was on scholarship at Harrow, you know.” He’s pacing my office now; looks like this is turning into another rant.