by Lowe, T. I.
“You’re not going to eat any more than that?” I asked, disappointed.
“I’m ready to celebrate our victory.” She almost sang this as she popped the cork and poured us each a fluted glass of champagne. We celebrated and climbed back into the bed around two Saturday morning. We slept well into Sunday afternoon.
I awoke, astonished at how long we had slept, and then felt sad at the thought that it was time to head back to South Carolina already. After showering and dressing, I repacked my bag and placed it by the door.
“Come here,” Julia shouted from her boutique closet.
I found her filling a suitcase with all types of goodies, many of which still had price tags. “We have to be able to show what we did all weekend,” she said in response to my unspoken question. I joined her by the suitcase and threw in a few pairs of shoes I had spotted the other night.
I smirked as I helped myself to a Gucci wallet. I’m not very girly, but HELLO. It was Gucci! “Yeah. I guess we can’t tell them that you drugged up the devil himself and tied him to your bed.”
“Yeah. And I guess we can’t tell anyone that you brutally beat that devil’s penis within an inch of its life.” She laughed. “You know they had to call a doctor to go to him. They think something had ruptured and were talking about having to remove one of his testicles.”
We broke out into a fit of laughter at that. We sat there laughing until it turned into seriousness. We wrapped our arms around each other for a long while. We grieved for the nightmare of our childhood and for what we had seen and done in the last few days. I like to think in that visit, we were able to pull a few thorns out and mend a bit.
After pulling ourselves back together, we reluctantly gathered my new and old belongings and headed for the airport. I talked Julia into a quick detour to that bakery I had visited last time.
“I want to send Miss May a cheesecake,” I said as we walked up to the counter.
“You know, that’s a great idea.”
Before I could place the order, the guy behind the counter spoke up. “You’re the supermodel, Julia Rose,” he said in shock, recognizing her easily even with her oversized sunglasses on. She was sporting these wild black leather pants and an art deco shirt that flowed over her frame. She exuded supermodel. I wore jeans and a plain white T-shirt and felt desperately plain in comparison.
“That would be me, and now why don’t you tell me who you are,” she flirted.
“I’m Greg, the owner of this place,” he answered coolly.
“Well, you are just the man I need. You see, I have a very special lady that lives in South Carolina, and I want to set up a special order service for her,” she said as she leaned on the counter towards him. “She is a huge fan of your famous cheesecakes, and I would like to start surprising her with one on her birthday, May eighth, one at Christmas, and one on Valentine’s Day on a yearly basis. Can you handle that, sweetheart?” she said in her syrupy, girly voice.
“Absolutely. If you would do me the honor of taking a photo with me for our famous clients wall, I’ll send her one today as a bonus,” he offered.
“You have yourself a deal,” she promised as my stomach decided to speak loudly. “My poor sister has been on a starvation diet for the past three days. Please get her a slice of your best before she passes out on me,” she teased as she bumped her sharp hip into my cushioned one.
“And for you?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m allergic to sugar, but a shot of espresso would be great.” She continued to coo, and the guy sucked it up like a life source.
After all the paperwork for the order was completed and the photo was taken, we sat outside to enjoy our treats. We finally unwound a bit and had a real girl’s conversation. Julia told me all about the fashion world and I filled her in on Lucas’s proposal. She seemed so happy for me, and I was truly happy for all of her success. If anyone deserved some kind of reward in this life, it was my sister for what she had bravely endured.
I had asked about Greyson Stone, and she said they were on speaking terms and had been for most of the year. I encouraged her to stay close to him, and she merely rolled her eyes at my suggestion. When I asked what was wrong with that idea, she wrinkled her nose and proclaimed him still too nice for her likings. I guessed he was still giving her a hard time about her lifestyle, as she had put it. I was just glad he was still around.
I returned to Bay Creek not quite the same as I had been when I left. I mean, who could possibly not be marked in some fashion from such an episode. I was almost an accessory to murder… You know I warned you, but I’m sure if you didn’t skip it, you now understand the importance of it being included. Maybe some of you cheered. I guarantee some of you cringed. It’s a vindication of some sort that most victims are never given. No matter—the emotional scars never completely go away. Wounds inflicted by such a crime can never be wiped clean.
I numbly went back to the routine of working at the restaurant or market and hiding out at Miss May’s after that trip, and I have never breathed a word of those bizarre events to no one, except to you, that is.
Jean had shown up at closing one night near the end of July that summer, finding me and some employees sitting in the dining area with my dad and John Paul. We were all enjoying ice cream sundaes the dessert lady had surprised us with. My mother had a bewildered look on her face as she slumped in a chair by me.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked as he made his way to her side.
“I just received some horrible news.” She paused. “Did anyone realize that Evan Grey has been in prison?” she asked. I nearly choked on my ice cream.
No one answered, so she continued. “Anyway, he was found beaten to death in his cell today.” She spoke gravely, wiping a tear off her cheek.
Before I knew what came over me, I broke out into a fit of giggles. All I could think of was Ding Dong the Devil is finally DEAD! All eyes looked my way in confusion. Jean was absolutely fuming over my strange behavior.
“A human has lost his life, and you find that funny?” she whispered through clinched teeth as she revved back and slapped me across my face. She had caught me off guard and I didn’t brace myself for the blow, so my head ended up slamming into the back of my chair.
Embarrassed, I stood to leave. “There was absolutely nothing human about Evan Grey,” I said, leaving everyone in silence, which it seems I do quite well with my sharp tongue.
Maybe I shouldn’t have laughed. I know that was inappropriate. I should have felt vindicated with him rotting in a prison cell. But just knowing he was still in the world, I never felt safe. With his death, I finally had the certainty that he could never physically hurt Julia or me ever again. I don’t expect you to understand if you’ve not lived through such a thing. I’m not a coldhearted person who doesn’t value human life. I just don’t value a devil’s life. I don’t apologize that I find comfort with his death. The fear and scars Evan Grey inflicted on me have affected every part of my life and have crippled me from living a true life.
I thought his death would clean the slate and rectify all the wrongs. Turns out, I was deluded. The physical freedom did very little for me emotionally. I am still a prisoner surrounded by nightmares and panic attacks, and the issues with physical touch have been debilitating at times. All of this has held me captive, and Evan’s death did not release me from any of it. I’ve not been able to figure out how to completely free myself from the chains of abuse.
Chapter Sixteen
Morning arrives with a mournful realization that today I will have to say a final goodbye to my dad. There is already a small crowd gathered, all dressed in black, when we pull into Jean’s driveway. The mood is more somber than the past few days. Jean actually speaks to us as we enter the living room. She takes Lucas’s arm and introduces him to her company, and I’m totally floored by her kindness. That is my mother. She always knows how to treat others better than me. I’m relieved to see her be so welcoming to my husband though.
Jean, Jo
hn Paul, Lucas and I quietly ride in a black stretch limo to the chapel. No one speaks a word on the short drive. As we pull up in front of the chapel, another limo pulls in as well. Julia Rose exits the back, wearing a pair of oversized sunshades and a black slip dress that drapes over her frame. Her six-inch stilettos and a large brimmed hat rub me wrong. She’s in full-blown starlet mode. She definitely does not fit in with the small beach town anymore, and her ensemble screams it. Jean seems so relieved to see my sister has finally made it. Julia joins us before we enter the chapel, and Jean embraces her in a hug that obviously lasts too long for Julia’s liking. After giving John Paul and me a quick peck on the cheek, Julia takes John Paul’s arm and we walk in together as a family. We share the front pew, and Julia keeps her glasses and gawky hat in place the entire time. It is the first time we gather in almost a decade. Regret and shame is how I feel at this sad fact.
The service is heart wrenching as most funerals are, but more so for me today. It’s my turn to remember my loved one and to let him go. The large auditorium is overflowing with mourners. Many of my dad’s employees have put together a touching tribute to him, filled with sayings my dad was popular for sharing. They also recount many memorable stories and pictures that represent my Dad‘s remarkable life. There is one picture where he and I are behind the counter at the market together. It captures me as a teenager with fluffy bangs, and my dad seems so young. Tears sting my eyes as I look through memories.
John Paul shares a short eulogy for the family. As he stands stoically in front of the congregation in his dark-grey suit, my heart swells with respect for him. I can only imagine the strength it is taking for him to stand there in front of us all and speak.
John Paul scans over his company and stands a bit straighter when he glances at my dad’s casket before he begins. “Our father was a passionate man who loved our mother with every inch of his heart. He is the love of my mother’s life and has always been a man that his children could look up to. Dad always put his all into anything he did. He was a good provider and a wonderful boss. His two businesses are landmarks to his dedication. He has set a good example that I know I should live my life by. We love him and we will truly miss him. We appreciate all of you for taking part in our father’s life. I’m proud to say that his legacy will live on with my sister Savannah’s help. She will see to it by taking over ownership of the restaurant as well as the market. This was our father’s wish. He knew she would take care of them just as he would. I hope that very soon, we will all be able to gather back at the two establishments that our father dedicated his life to. This will be the best way that we can all honor him. Thank you.” John Paul concludes in a shaky voice and eases back to the pew beside me, but he won’t look at me.
People give me knowing glances the rest of the service as if they knew all along that I would take over the businesses. It is all I can do not to knock John Paul over the head for announcing my dad’s wishes. I’ve not even decided if I want to take them over yet. Now what am I going to do? Lucas keeps giving my hand a slight squeeze as if letting me know it will all be okay. Julia is the only one that actually looks shocked by the news. She was always the favorite and maybe she thought she would inherit the family businesses one day. The child in me wants to stick my tongue out at her when she gives me her look of disbelief. I don’t recall anything else shared during the service that follows my brother’s announcement.
We somberly move to the graveyard and lay my dad to rest beside Bradley. During the finalization of the service, I keep my focus on my cousin’s tombstone. The blue pearl granite headstone with intricate carvings of ocean waves is most fitting for him. My dad saw to that detail. The inscription states: Whispering through the ocean’s waves and the song of the mighty surf, I am with you always.
The mourners eventually depart to give the family some time alone. We arrange some of the plants around both gravesites and stare numbly for a while. It’s over too quickly, yet dragged out long enough.
To my mother’s disappointment, Julia says her goodbyes to us at the gravesite. “I know you’re not already leaving, sweetheart. You just got here.” You can hear the hurt in Jean’s voice.
“I know, but I’m in the middle of shooting extra scenes for my next movie. There’s no way I can cancel. My plane leaves in an hour.” She gives everyone a quick hug and climbs into the back of the waiting limo. Before she closes the door, she flashes our mother a big smile and says, “Maybe I can get back this way soon.” Everyone knows that won’t be happening.
Sensing something is up with my sister, I hurry towards the limo. “I’m going to make Julia give me a ride back to the house,” I shout over my shoulder before climbing in. As I close the door, I turn to confirm my suspicions. My sister sits here shaking and big patches of hives are popping up all over her. “What’s wrong, Julia?”
“I guess I’m still allergic to the South,” she mutters as she pulls her oversized hat and sunglasses off, revealing herself as a hot mess.
“Excuse me sir, please head two blocks to the right. We need to make a stop at Bay Creek Pharmacy,” I say to the limo driver. He gives his head a quick nod and gets us there in a flash. I run in, grab Benadryl and instant ice packs, and hurry back to the limo. I give Julia two pills with a bottle of water and then work on placing ice packs on the nastier whelps.
“Is your flight really about to leave?” Julia shakes her head no to my question. “Sir, could you just drive us around the beach for a while?” I ask as I work on removing my sister’s shoes. Once I get her more comfortable, I undo the straps on my own shoes and slip them off. I grab myself a bottle of water, stretch out beside her, and try to relax too. We ride in silence for a while. Every now and then, I move the ice packs to another location. Eventually, her skin begins to resemble her normal complexion, so I decide to give her a hard time.
“You know you stole my line of being allergic to the South. I have copyrights and everything. I think I should sue you, Miss Hotshot Actress. I mean, shouldn’t you have sent me a check by now, compensating me for leading you down the path of fame and fortune?” We both giggle at my ridiculousness, which is exactly what I’m going for. After this difficult day, a laugh is much needed.
“I thought I could handle this.” She pauses to give her head a disappointed shake. “Dad deserved better than this from me.” She motions to the mess of herself. “I’ve been trying to get up enough courage to come here for the past three days.” We sit in silence for a while before she continues. She is staring out the window vacantly. “I see ghosts all over this place.”
“Me too,” I quietly agree. I push the button to raise the partition between us and the driver, feeling the need for some privacy. “The demons just won’t stop dancing,” I murmur as I gaze out of the heavily tinted window too.
“I am absolutely shocked that you are moving back,” Julia declares. “I thought you were out for good too.”
“I haven’t agreed to take the businesses, yet. Our brother got a little ahead of himself today. I have Lucas and his career to consider. It’s not just all about me.” I hesitate with self-doubt. I look over at Julia and ask, “Are you shocked that Dad would leave them to me?”
“No. Absolutely not. You can run them with your eyes closed. I just couldn’t get over you being brave enough to move back.” Julia shrugs her thin shoulder.
This is a relief to me to have my big sister’s approval. Confidence is not my strong suit. We ride around for a while, when a groggy-eyed Julia turns to me. The Benadryl is kicking in for sure.
“Dad and Jean came to New York for a visit about a month ago,” she mutters in a fatigued voice.
Confusion and jealously hit me all at once. “Really? Why?” I ask.
“They wanted a New York vacation—hitting some Broadway shows and shopping. Dad called to get some recommendations as to where to stay and I suggested my apartment. He was so excited that he immediately agreed without even consulting your mother.” She grins at that thought. “They
stayed for a week. You’ll be proud that I made sure to feed them regularly. I also didn’t involve them in any extracurricular crime.” She snorts, causing us both to chuckle.
“I’m glad you and John Paul both have had some recent time with Dad. I just regret that I didn’t.” I slump back in the seat and tears wet my cheeks once again. I’m still not used to this emotion finally bubbling out.
“He told me he was planning to visit you next. He planned to beg you to move back and run the businesses. He didn’t think John Paul could handle it all. He knew you were meant to do it and just needed to convince you of it.” Julia pats me on my knee. I try to shake the regret off. I know there’s nothing I can do about some things now.
Eventually the limo driver heads back to Jean’s house. I hold my sister’s hand the rest of the ride. I’m proud that I am finally able to find comfort in someone’s touch now. My Lucas has finally gotten that through to me. I wish my sister felt comfortable enough to stay a while, but I understand I cannot chase her demons away for her. I just hate the thought of letting her go again.
“You think it would be alright with you if I send John Paul up to visit you for a few weeks after the dust settles around here?” I ask.
Julia chews on the idea for a few minutes before answering. “You know, I think that’s a great idea. I think it would do him some good,” she says with a lazy grin. “I’ll make all the arrangements and let you know when to haul him to the airport.”
“Just make sure I get him back to me in one piece.”
“Sure. We’ll behave—”
I interrupt her when my memory recalls a particular someone who wanted her to behave. I’ve not thought of him in years, but cannot help but ask her about him now. “So… Greyson Stone?”