by ANDREA SMITH
“It’s all true,” he admitted not hiding the sadness and regret in his voice. “Marley was a virgin when I took her that night. I was drunk and enjoying the last of my bachelor life. I'm ashamed to say this, but I thought she was like the other girls that were there that night to service the men. I swear I felt horrible after what I'd done.”
I wanted him to tell me about my mother. I wanted to hear about her from someone that had cared about her. “Can you tell me anything about her?” I asked my voice cracking.
“She was beautiful - like you are. She was feisty which of course made her that much more desirable. I romanced her that evening. I listened to her talk about her hopes and dreams for the future. She had distinct plans for her life. She didn’t care for New Orleans. She wanted to move back home to Mississippi and get a job and to put herself through college. I remember her saying she didn’t care to continue living with her sister and brother now that she'd turned eighteen a couple of months previously.”
He stopped for a moment and sighed. “I asked her if she wanted to go upstairs where we could talk more privately as the party was getting fairly lively downstairs. We'd rented two floors of the hotel for that weekend."
"She agreed. I took her to my suite and we sat on the bed sipping champagne and sharing bits and pieces of our lives with each other. I still was under the impression that she was . . . well uh . . .”
“A whore?” I finished for him.
“Yes. May I call you ‘Tylar’?”
“Yes, of course,” I replied stiffly.
“Tylar I don’t want to go into any further detail about what happened after that. It was a private night between your mother and me. Suffice it to say that I realized very quickly that she was an innocent. She'd been telling the truth when she tried to shove me off of her, telling me that she was a virgin. I honestly thought that it was part of her ‘routine’, I guess. I felt horrible afterwards, but she stayed with me the whole night. She didn’t have to; I offered to have a limo dispatched to take her home.”
At this point, I heard the judge chuckle softly. What had he found funny about the apparent ravaging of my mother? I wanted to hate him, but for some reason I couldn’t.
“After she verbally berated me for my ‘animalistic’ behavior, I think she called it; she claimed she wanted to wash my ‘stench’ off of her. She ordered me to draw a bubble bath for her, which I did. I was falling all over myself to make it up to her. She took a leisurely bath, and then put the hotel robe on and climbed into bed. She instructed me not to get any ideas; she just wanted me to hold her in my arms while we slept. I did as ordered and we slept curled up in each other’s arms all night. It was the best night’s sleep that I'd ever had. I’ve not had another night’s rest quite like it since.”
I felt the tears running down my face hearing his story. There must've been something about him that my mother trusted. The very brief interlude that they had with one another had somehow formed a connection. That connection was me. Could my mother have suspected then that she'd conceived?
“What happened after that?” I asked him.
“I drove her home the next morning still apologizing to her. I told her that I was to be married soon, but that I needed to see her to be with her. I told her that I wanted to make love to her properly. She asked me if I was still going to be married. I said that I was. She told me that she didn’t roll that way.”
Oh my God! She sounds so much like me!
“The rest you already know, Tylar. Your aunt’s account of what happened over the next couple of weeks is all accurate. I did love my sweet Marley. I always have.”
I needed to get off the phone. This was all too emotional for me. “Does your cell phone have video capabilities?” I asked him.
“Yes, it does.”
“I'd like to forward the video I recorded of my aunt’s deathbed conversation. There are parts of it that you need to hear. Maybe you can help with untangling some of this. I know you're a busy man, Judge Tylar.”
“Please, call me Preston.”
“Uhh, I don’t think I can do that sir.”
“Why not?”
“Because my baby daughter's named Preston.”
“I see,” he said.
I felt his smile over the phone. “So I'm a grandfather as well as a father?”
“Only if you believe what I'm telling you is true,” I answered.
“I believe it's the truth. I’m only sorry that Marley didn’t let me know. It would've changed everything,” he said with a sigh. “Would you consider calling me ‘Dad’ or ‘Father’?” he asked tentatively.
It was my turn to smile into the phone. “I like ‘Dad’ best,” I replied.
“Then Dad it is.”
“Okay, Dad, I'll send this video your way. I'd appreciate any help you can provide in locating these people mentioned. If my mother was poisoned as my aunt alleges in this conversation, then I need to seek justice on her behalf.”
“Of course you have it,” he promised. “When can I see you and my grandbaby, Tylar?”
“I don’t know for certain. We’ll work something out soon. Can I ask you something?”
“Certainly.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m fifty,” he replied. “I’m ten years older than your mother.”
Just like with Trey and me.
“Do I have any brothers or sisters?”
“I’m afraid not. My wife wasn’t able to have children. She passed away last year.”
“So, you'll watch the video and get back with me?”
“Yes, I will. I'll try and get some answers for you very quickly.”
“Good-night, Tylar.”
“Good-night, Dad.”
Trey came into the bedroom looking for me. He had Preston in his arms.
“I wondered where you were,” he said. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine, Trey,” I said entering my dad’s number into my contact list on my iPhone.
Once finished, I forwarded the video to his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I just forwarded Maggie’s conversation to Dad. He’s going to assist in getting to the bottom of this.”
“Dad?” he asked, his eyes widening.
“Well it’s ‘dad’ for me. I think you're still expected to address him as ‘Your Honor’,” I replied smiling.
“Seriously? You made the call?”
“Yes I did. He shared a lot with me about my mother. He believes I'm his daughter and wants to meet his granddaughter who just happens to be his namesake.”
“Baby, that's fantastic,” he said. “Did you hear that, Preston? You officially have another grandpa. He’s a federal judge, too,” Trey was telling her.
She didn’t appear to be overly impressed. At the moment she was chewing viciously on her rubber banana. She was probably cutting more teeth, by the looks of it.
“So, baby, I’m going to change Preston’s diaper and put her down for the night. She took a bottle while we were watching ESPN. How about you and I celebrate your good news?”
“Let me guess. We’ll watch Monday Night Football together?”
“That’s not even close to what I have in mind,” he said giving me his dimpled grin.
CHAPTER 36
Gina and I were in the kitchen getting the bird out of the oven.
"Can you mash the potatoes, Gina?”
“Sure thing,” she replied getting the hand mixer out of the drawer.
I went into the living room where both Trey and Tristan were sprawled out watching football.
“Trey,” I said, “Can you please carve the turkey?”
“Yeah baby. Next commercial I promise.”
I went back into the kitchen where Gina was plugging the cord for the mixer into the wall socket. “You know, Gina, it kinda burns my ass that I spent the better part of two days preparing this meal and all Trey has to do is carve the damn turkey, provided that he can do
it during a flipping commercial.”
“Now, Ty, football is also very much a Thanksgiving tradition, you know. It’s important to let Trey enjoy the holiday the way he chooses.”
I gave her a sidelong glance. It wasn’t like her to defend Trey’s position on anything. “What’s gotten into you?” I asked. “Or maybe, the better question is who has gotten in to you?”
Gina immediately looked away and I saw her face flush.
“No, you didn’t!” I shrieked.
“Shhh,” Gina hissed, “Keep it down. I don’t want Tristan thinking that I put our business out there like that.”
“Oh, no,” I said, “You're telling me everything and I want it now. Put the lid back on those potatoes,” I instructed, putting the foil back over the turkey. “Come with me.”
We passed Trey coming into the kitchen as we headed out.
“Hey, don’t you want me to carve the turkey?” he asked.
“Yeah, go ahead. I have to show Gina what I bought for Preston to wear on Christmas,” I lied.
Once we got into the privacy of the master suite, I closed the door. “Spill it,” I said taking a seat next to her on the bed.
“You can’t say a word to Trey and I mean it.”
“BFF promise,” I said holding my hand up.
“Well,” she giggled, “The first night he got to town it was all kind of businesslike, you know? We talked about the club; I listened to his suggestions some of which I liked, others not so much. We went to the club and discussed the layout and some changes that he wants to make to accommodate having a dinner crowd just through the week to generate more revenue--”
“For Chrissake, Gina - I don’t want to hear all that shit. Get to the good part.”
“Okay, so like Monday and Tuesday night he slept in the guest room all nice and proper. Last night we decided to go to the club and party it up. The music was great; we were drinking and dancing. So, we get back to my condo and we’re both tipsy and I tell him good-night and so, I go and get in my skimpy little black silk nightie with the push up bra. Then I remembered that I needed to make that cranberry relish to bring over here today and I needed to soak the cranberries.”
“Uh-huh,” I replied, “Go on, get to the good stuff.”
“Well, I figure Tristan is in his room, so I go out dressed in my sexy nightie to the kitchen and get the cranberries out and put them in water to soak overnight. Just as I'm crossing back through the living room, there he is headed out of the guest room like he’s going to the kitchen. The next thing I know, I’m pressed up against him making out and feeling him getting all hard.”
“Oh, my God,” I said giggling, “then what?”
“Well, he asked me if I wanted to take it to the bedroom. I said sure. He said he had condoms, so we went to my room and fucked all night long."
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. That’s what happened.”
“Oh, come on, Gina; there has to be more.”
“Ty, it isn’t what you think. We're not in love or anything. We're both on the rebound. Remember what I told you about not wanting to be a ‘bridge bitch?”
“Yeah, whatever,” I replied, waving my hand at her dismissively. “How was the sex?”
“It was fantastic, girlfriend. I’ve got to tell you that Tristan is extremely thorough with his tongue, if you know what I mean? Plus, he's hung very well and knows how to use it to hit all of the right places. You know, I was born with two G-Spots, right? He can hit them both at the same time. Now, that's all I'm telling you. It was sex. It was fun. End of story.”
Whatever, Gina. LOL!
When we got back to the kitchen, Trey and Tristan had finished up getting everything set out at the dining room table. Preston was still napping so we could enjoy a quiet meal. I noticed that Tristan held the chair out for Gina to take her seat before he sat down. Trey was already seated piling food onto his plate.
Tristan was very attentive to her during the meal. I think Trey had finally noticed it as well. I saw him roll his eyes a couple of times. Once after Tristan asked Gina if she wanted more turkey referring to her as ‘babe,’ and then again when Gina got up to clear the table before dessert and he'd jumped up to help her.
“What the hell is going on with those two?” Trey whispered to me as they took our plates out to the kitchen.
“I don’t know that there's anything going on, Trey. It seems to me that they simply get along. What’s the problem?”
“Wanna bet he’s already banged her?”
“Don’t be so crude, Trey,” I said admonishing him. “I’m getting dessert. Do you want apple pie or pumpkin?”
“Pumpkin,” he mumbled frowning.
I picked the salad plates up and took them to the kitchen. When I got to the doorway I saw Tristan’s arms wrapped around Gina. He had her pulled up against him; his hands were all over her ass. They were kissing passionately. They hadn’t seen me so I quietly and quickly turned around and went back out to the dining room.
“What’s the matter? Where’s my pie?” Trey asked as I set the salad plates back down on the table. I lip synced to him that Tristan and Gina were making out in the kitchen.
“Jesus Christ, what the hell did I tell you?”
“Shush they’ll hear you. I think it’s cute.”
“Cute, my ass. It’s not as though I don’t have her in my life enough just being your best friend. She’ll probably end up as my sister-in-law, now.”
I had to giggle at Trey’s discomfort with the idea. He just needed to learn how to deal with Gina. She appeared in the doorway to the dining room.
“Tristan’s loading the dishwasher. Here, let me take these plates to the kitchen,” she said picking up the stacked salad plates. I’ll go ahead and bring dessert out.”
Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink. Trey and I gave Gina our dessert orders and she hurried back into the kitchen. Now was probably as good of time as any to bring up the subject of Gina staying with us when she had to be out of the condo next week.
“Trey, would you have a problem with Gina staying here with us for a couple of weeks until she finds an apartment. She hasn’t had time to look for anything working all those hours at the club. She's to be out by December 1st.”
“Where the hell will she stay?”
“She can stay in Preston’s room. She’s not bringing her furniture; that’s all going into storage.”
He waved his hand dismissively at me.
“Whatever, Tylar, I certainly can’t say ‘no’ now that I’m fairly certain my brother's throwing the meat to her. I’m sorry dear, was that too crude?”
He gave me one of his stoic glares.
“Thank you for your understanding and compassion, Trey,” I replied smiling at him.
Our landline rang and Gina got it from the kitchen. “Tylar, it’s your dad,” she said bringing the phone to me. I'd talked to him once since our initial conversation on Monday evening. He'd hired someone to locate Trinity LaFleur and he'd located my mother’s death certificate as well as my birth certificate. He'd mailed certified copies of both of them to me. I hadn’t received them yet.
“Hi, Dad,” I said smiling. It didn’t feel weird anymore calling him that.
“Hi, daughter,” he laughed pleasantly into the phone. “I wanted to call and wish you a Happy Thanksgiving and give you an update. You probably haven’t received the certificates that I mailed to you yet. I wanted to let you know that I'd like to have your birth certificate amended.”
“Look, Dad, if you're going to suggest my birth name be changed to carry your last name I really don’t think I want to be ‘Tylar Tylar,” I said.
“No,” he laughed, “that's not what I meant. On your birth certificate where the father’s name is listed it's blank. I'd like to have my name entered in that space.”
“That’s fine with me, but I mean, is it really necessary? You know I’m yours and I know you’re mine so isn’t that what really matters?”
“I want it on r
ecord,” he said. “I want your children and your children’s children to know their heritage.”
“That’s fine, Dad, I guess I didn’t think about it that way.”
“There’s something else, Tylar. When you see your mother’s death certificate I don’t want you to be alarmed by what was entered as the cause of her death.”
“What does it say?” I asked carefully.
“Suicide by overdose,” he answered. “I don’t believe that's accurate.”
“Overdose of what?”
“Barbiturates. The thing is there's no way a cause of death could be ruled as an overdose of any type of drug without a post mortem being conducted. There were some very sloppy or very shady records kept with respect to her death. She apparently succumbed in Vidalia, Louisiana.”
“Vidalia? That’s where Trinity LaFleur's supposed to be living. She was the mid-wife that delivered me according to Maggie.”
“Yes, and I think the P.I. I hired has located her. She may have the answers we need. I’m going to file a request to open an investigation into your mother’s death. I have the authority to do so. There will be a formal inquisition held at some point in time. I'll keep you informed.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I replied, stunned at the news he'd given me; thankful he wasn't going to let it go until we had the answers.
Trey was watching me after I got off the phone with him. “Is everything okay, sweetie?” he asked.
“My father's opening a formal investigation into my mother’s death. Her death certificate listed the cause as a barbiturate overdose and suicide.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he replied.
“My father agrees with you,” I said. “He said there was no way that they could confirm chemicals in her system without doing an autopsy - at least checking her blood toxicology, I would think. Trey, what if Matthew did poison her and Maggie, too? How hard will that be to prove?”