Equity (Balance Sheet #3)

by Shannon Dermott

  She paused again and I could see her going back to that time in her mind.

  “Well, I won’t bore you with all the details… Let’s just say I knew my father would never allow such a guy with his rich looks and American accent to date his only daughter.” She sighed. “Sort of rebelliously, I didn’t let that stop me. We arranged to meet for lunch one day I was working. He was fascinating in all the ways that I’d always dreamed of, like in the movies.”

  I was winding my way around my plate while I took this all in. I’d bitten into a mushroom when she got to the story where I thought Kalen’s life began.

  She sighed. “After many dates within a couple of months, Thomas announced he was leaving for home. I was surprised when he wanted to meet my father to ask him to marry me. I’d known my father’s reaction but I was a girl in love. My father flat out refused. Instead of welcoming Thomas to the family, I was scolded for going behind his back and dating a man without his permission. It didn’t matter than I was legally of age. I lived under his roof and therefore by his rules. Thomas thought he could win over my father by talking up his pedigree. That was a mistake. It only made my father more upset and rage that a man should earn his own not be given his wealth by being born.”

  Although she was looking at me, she stared right though me and back in to time.

  “When I was told to send him away, I was distraught. I couldn’t do it. Instead I arranged for him to come in the middle of the night and take me away. I was my own woman.” She paused and had a lost expression. Her tone had lost its lightness in favor of sad words.

  I was so wrapped in this story and hadn’t noticed that I’d finished about half of my plate just listening to her.

  Her eyes met mine. “I’m going on and you probably don’t want to hear this.”

  “No, please continue,” I urged. I hated she had to drag up bad memories, but I was fascinated by the tale.

  Since Kalen had been born, I knew that she in fact left to America with him. Still, her increasing pauses and looks out into the front garden that overlooked nothing more than rolling hills said a lot more. She was considering those events much like I had earlier this morning. It didn’t matter that everything was done. It was a reconciliation, a way of making peace with your choices or the past.

  She interlocked her finger and brought them to her mouth. I could tell the memory was getting to her. She looked close to tears.

  “My father never forgave me for leaving.” She amended, “Not really anyway. I was disowned and the letters I sent home were returned for the most part. Not having a clue about living outside of Scotland, I’d wanted to believe that maybe it was an error on my part, especially when some weren’t returned.”

  Her eyes found mine and maybe she saw my disquiet. She patted my hand like it was my story. Then she gave me a tiny smile like all was better now.

  “At first everything was new and exciting in New York. Thomas had a beautiful home that he said was mine too. We’d married in Scotland and obtained papers for me to leave. And he married me again in New York. Everything was like a fairytale even with balls and beautiful gowns. Thomas showed me off like a prized possession until, I found myself pregnant.”

  I was scooping up the last of the baked beans, which I didn’t think I’d enjoy as breakfast food, when she stopped. I glanced up to see her staring out the window again until she unexpectedly continued.

  “Thomas was angry. He told me how upsetting it was.” Her voice morphed to one that must have held Thomas’s timbre. “Didn’t I know anything about birth control?” She halfheartedly laughed as if that was ridiculous. “I’d been a virgin and naive about everything until him. He changed after that. I’d ruined his plans or so he told me. Eventually, he came to accept it. When Kalen was born, he insisted he have an American name. At this point I was beginning to be afraid of him and his dark moods. He often came home smelling strongly of alcohol. So I didn’t point out that Kalen, my choice, wasn’t a Scottish name. When it came time to fill out the birth certificate, he was so busy at work that he signed the blank forms rushing out for meetings. He left me alone for his driver to eventually return for me and our son to take us home from the hospital. My rebellious side reared up and I filled in the name Jeremy Kalen Brinner Glenn in defiance. And I paid for it. It was the first time he hit me but not the last.”

  I’d been hungrier than I thought and had eaten everything. It was a good thing I’d placed my fork down because once she mentioned the abuse; I felt the tight weight of my belly and thought I might be sick. Momentarily, I’d been brought back to my own memory at the hands of my female captor. I winced slightly as I unconsciously touched the tender side of my face where she’d punched me. A bruise still colored my face there under the plaster of cover it up makeup. I wanted to avoid any questions.

  Moria, caught up in her own memories, thankfully didn’t notice my own step down memory lane. She continued her story. “As Kalen grew older, Thomas had been adamant about not teaching him Gaelic. It didn’t make sense other than he didn’t want to be left out of future conversations. So I found myself teaching Kalen when he wasn’t home. Then I had to convince Kalen to keep it a secret from his father. And even in front of the nanny, whom I saw no use in, I wasn’t working. Thomas, on the other hand, wanted to make sure his son was brought up with the proper etiquette and I was always available for him at a moment’s notice.”

  Another lingering pause caused stagnate air between us. This was hard for her and even harder for me to hear.

  “One day, I was reminded that I wasn’t the only one affected by Thomas’s abuse when Kalen asked why his father hit me and why I let him. Easier to explain in my own language, I spoke to him in our tongue. Dismayed that my son saw these things, I hadn’t heard Thomas come home early. He was livid. He backhanded me right there in front of Kalen. Being the brave boy he was, he tried to wedge himself between us and got knocked in the face himself. We were both in tears when Thomas declared that nothing but English would be spoken in his house. I decided then, I had to go. I hadn’t ever feared for myself, but then I feared for my son.”

  I saw nothing in her story I would have done differently. I too had been a girl who wanted to get away from home. I too had given myself over to a man, Scott, without knowing him very well. And had I had a child and my husband struck him, I would have run too.

  “Thomas had given me a credit card because I was to always look pretty and presentable even if he called on me the last minute. I also knew where he kept a stash of ready cash. After Thomas left for a late meeting, which was probably a visit to one of his numerous mistresses, I found our passports, the cash, and packed two small bags. I didn’t want the doorman to alert Thomas of our leaving. I had to travel light. And we came home.”

  “I ended up on my father’s door with my son in one hand and our bags in another. My mother welcomed us with a hug. My father didn’t. He said I’d made my choices and turned us away. I ended up in Edinburgh lucky enough to finding a small room above a small pub, where I got a job at night waiting tables. It wasn’t much. Too ashamed at my return, I didn’t call anyone I’d known. Cell phones weren’t exactly a common thing and landlines weren’t cheap. Eventually, I made a new friend. She was also in an abusive relationship and ended up sharing my small studio with her daughter Keely for a time. And we remained friends until she died two years ago of breast cancer.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” I felt bad about my homicidal feeling towards Keely for being at Kalen’s side. Then I asked, “Thomas never came looking for you?”

  She shook her head. “No… that’s not true. But it was a long time.”

  She paused and I thought that might be the end of it until she spoke.

  “Kalen had a rough go of it from the start. The only clothes he had for me to take when we fled were the ones from the academy he attended as a kindergartner. Blazers and slacks. The boys in our new neighborhood and school he attended here were far from the rich boy type. I remember the
first time he came home with bloody face and torn shirt. I went to the school and went mad on the administration for allowing my son to be beaten up by what I found out were older boys. Kalen hadn’t complained. Instead he tried to fit in. He began talking in Gaelic like everyone when not in school. It sounded odd with his American accent, but eventually that faded. He never told me again about trouble in school. But I knew things were happening. Barely able to put food on the table, I had little choice about what to do other than taking his fancy clothes to a shop and selling them on the cheap to buy him clothes that other boys his age wore.”

  “It sounds like you did your best,” I said.

  “Aye, I tried. Yet, he changed. He’d been kind and a little naïve when we arrived. It didn’t take him long to become closed off and not exactly sad, but maybe a little mad at the world. I tried to talk to him and save money to change our circumstances, but there was never enough. I also knew he was probably doing things over the years to help that might not have been lawful even though he denied it. When his father finally contacted us all those years later when Kalen was in secondary school, I left the choice up to him whether he wanted to have a relationship with his father or not.”

  A heavy sigh preceded her next statement. “I think he made a deal with his father to get us out of the debt we were in to survive. He never complained to me ever about all the things we lacked. There were even times I’d show up home to a feast and Kalen had no job. I told him not to do anything illegal. He just smiled. Only once did I get a call to pick him up at the police station. And on the way out, he promised it would never happen again.”

  “What was he in for?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Not for me to tell. I forgave him and he’s kept his word. Now he’s made a name for himself and done his best by me and his mates. Griffth is a godsend and like a son to me, just like Keely’s a daughter. And maybe years ago, I had hope Keely would win him over. She hasn’t. He’s only ever protected her.”

  Her eye found mine and held it. “He loves us all. But with you it’s different. My son and Griff could have their pick of the lot, but neither talked about the lasses or brought them around. And I saw the way he watched you when you couldn’t see. His love runs deep even if he won’t admit it.”

  If she knew the thing I’d done to destroy that love, she wouldn’t be saying that. I shook my head.

  “Yes, you’ll have to trust me. He keeps things inside, not one for opening up. He doesn’t want to burden anyone or show vulnerability. But when he does…”

  SEVENTEEN

  The car rolled to a stop and Keely looked over at me.

  “Why are you taking me home?” she asked in Gaelic.

  “You have work this morning?” I asked with a teasing tone and an arch of my brow.

  She rolled her eyes. “I do.” She hopped out of the car and I took notice of the extra bounce in her step as she tried to have me watch her arse. It worked.

  Bugger it. I drove off in sight of my next destination.

  I knocked on the door with no response. I rapped a little louder after several seconds and heard muffled curses and grumbles coming from inside.

  The door opened at a sleepy eyed Griffin. My best mate squinted as if he wasn’t quite sure he was seeing me.

  “Kalen, hou’s is gaun?” he said with one eye open and the other half lidded.

  “Aren’t you late for work?”

  He grinned because we both knew I was the boss and caught him at home when he should have been at work earning his pay.

  Pops and creaks came from his limbs as he stretched. He seemed to wake up more and switched to Gaelic. “We both know you pay me to be your friend.”

  When he turned and let me step in, I soundly placed my palm on his shoulder. “We have work to do. Get your arse ready.”

  Just then a thin naked girl stepped out of Griff’s room. “What’s all the bloody fuss?” Her accent wasn’t Scottish. It sounded English. And she looked young with skin that could be compared to milk as it lacked all color. But she had perky breasts of the youth I saw in her face.

  Griff turned to face me. His grin spoke of things we didn’t have to say. I rolled my eyes.

  “Aye, Darlin’.” Griff spoke the word darling like he was a true Southern American. He had the drawl down to a tee. He heard that word by a Texan who showed up in the wrong place many years ago. I blinked away the memory as the girl realized she and Griff weren’t alone.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” she asked sweetly. I tried to focus on her face and not her lithe body that moved towards me with a hand extended as if she wasn’t the only one who stood naked.

  “Kalen,” I offered when she reached me.

  “Lilly,” she said and winked before she turned to head back to Griff’s room.

  She had a sweet little arse that swayed as she walked. If my head wasn’t in a certain redhead, I might have taken her up on her unspoken offer. Griff and I had shared more than a few girls in the past.

  Griff turned back to me and said in a thick brogue, “Whi djae wa’mae ‘ae dae ‘e noo?”

  It wasn’t Gaelic, but clearly he didn’t want the lassie to understand him.

  I arched a brow, silently answering his question of what I wanted to do now. His smile broadened. I shook my head and he understood it was a no. He shrugged. So went our unspoken conversation. He followed the girl in the room and I stepped further in allowing the door to shut behind me. I hoped he was sending her home. I didn’t want to be here for their round two, or two hundred knowing Griff.

  The couch held promised until I wondered if it was safe to sit on or if Griff had used it with the lassie. The bedroom door opened. Lilly stepped out dressed in a clingy oversized shirt that gripped her mid-thigh by a wide band.

  Griff followed and kissed her at the door. I changed my focus to give them some privacy. “Later, Darling,” he said with a wave.

  Just like that, Griff switched to our native tongue. “What brings you home?” he said, landing a hard hand to my shoulder paying me back.

  “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  “Bro, are you here for a bromance?” Griff was one who liked to test out international slang. I wasn’t sure where he got it from—the lasses he bedded, TV or movies. Whatever it was, you could never be sure what he might say next.

  “Bro? Bromance?” I asked not sure where he was going with this.

  “You know, the video that went viral on YouTube? Bromance?”

  Then I remembered. “That was like a few years ago.”

  “Really? I just saw it the other day,” he said, looking disappointed that he was late to the bro party. “It was bloody fantastic.”

  “Get your arse ready. We have stuff to do.”

  Griff started walking backwards and serenaded me with lines from the song along the way. “I love you in the most heterosexual way.” And he pointed at me before blowing me a kiss. As much as I wondered why, I had to love him for being such a goof ball.

  A bark of laughter left me that felt so good that I realized this was one good thing about this trip. He had a way of making me forget the shite in life and look at the bright side.

  After Griff took a quick shower, we headed out. It had been because my father had a base of operation in Scotland that led him to meet my mother. And that company survived his death. The first thing I did upon arriving at the office was to take a tour and meet with key people because I hadn’t been around in many months. Griff, on the other hand, went to look for security breaches in our intranet and web servers.

  By the end of the day, we needed a break and headed to the pub near home.

  Stepping through the doors, my smile fell when I spotted a man-sized hand on a very familiar arse. By the time I glanced towards the face, she was walking away and through the double doors to the back where the food was made.

  Next to the bar to my right, I spotted Ennis and prepared to ask him about the spot of red hair that ducked out of sight. Before I could ask
, a dark haired beauty blew through the door.

  Keely stopped at our table before heading to the bar for an apron. With a roll of her eye, she breezed by without a word.

  Griff caught sight of me. I could feel the frown on my face. “Since when has she started working here?” I asked.

  “She never stopped.” He huffed as if I should have known better. “What’s crawled up your arse?”

  I looked at my best mate. “Nowt,” I growled, using another word for nothing.

  He rolled his eyes and flagged down Ennis who stood stoic at the bar. “Ale,” He shouted to be heard over the crowded room.

  Seconds later Keely strolled from nowhere and slapped down the ale, foam spilling over onto Griff’s lap. “Whi that noo’?” he protested.

  Keely’s temper was directed at me as she hadn’t once looked away from my face. “I’ll tell you whi’s wrong with the eejit. He’s aff his heid over that redhead lass.”

  The door that led from the bar to the kitchen area opened and that redhead lass popped through, holding a tray full of food and looking pleased with herself.

  “Whi’s she daen?” Keely asked.

  I said nothing and they both turned to me as my jawed dropped. Bailey began to serve food with a brightness I didn’t much care for. It wasn’t so much the smile as it was that it wasn’t aimed at me. She hadn’t yet spotted us and I watched like a voyeur, not letting my eyes stop from drinking her in. I hadn’t seen her happy since before she had left that motel room.

  Griff said, “So that’s the lassie that has your arse up in knots?”

  I hadn’t told him about Bailey. I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t trying to keep her a secret. It was possible I hadn’t told him because he would know. He would see through all my bull shite and know exactly what my feelings were for her. And he’d laugh his arse off if he knew she’d dumped me for another guy.

  “Oh, he hasn’t told you, eh?” Keely said, her scowl deeply rooted in her pretty face. “She must be...”