Having You

by A. C. Arthur

  Jerald was leaning back in his dark leather office chair. It had been all of five minutes since his mother had appeared in the doorway, unannounced. Not that she needed to schedule a time to visit him, but yeah, he would have liked to have been more prepared for this meeting. Still, he was not surprised by her words. She’d been saying as much to him—albeit with more subtlety—since Jackson had announced he was going to marry Tara. To his mother’s way of thinking that meant two down and one more to go. Only, the one more, had no intention of going down the marriage road. None whatsoever.

  “I’m just fine the way I am, mother,” he replied, keeping his tone level so as not to rile her.

  Lydia Carrington, while described in both fashion and fortune magazines as an intelligent and well-spoken woman who was the epitome of graceful and demure success, would cut a person off at the knees if she thought they were disrespecting her in any way. As Jerald was her son, she’d likely only give him that searing look she dished out just before the heated words, and if all of the above were not heeded, the quick whack on the back of his head.

  “Don’t patronize me, Jerald. I am not one of your employees. I do not have to accept that answer you give and go on my merry way.”

  So his level tone hadn’t worked as well as he’d desired. He sat up straighter in his chair, letting his hands—nails perfectly manicured because dirty or uneven nails were yet another pet peeve of his—resting on the arms of the chair.

  “That’s not what I’m trying to do at all, mother. I just know how this conversation goes and before you waste your time I want to assure you that I am fine. I am happy just the way I am.”

  Lydia, still a very attractive woman at fifty-seven years old, lifted a perfectly arched brow. Her lips were painted a pretty peach color, tilted upward at the ends—the I-don’t-believe-a-word-you’re-saying look.

  “I’m sure you believe that, Jerald. But I am your mother and I know better.”

  Jerald sighed then, because he had lost count of how many times he’d heard her say those very words before.

  “Why can’t a man be content living his life and pursuing his career? I’m not breaking any laws, nor am I planning a world takeover.”

  “No,” she said stopping him before he could say another word. “You’re wasting all that I know is inside of you.”

  That silenced him. Nobody knew what was inside Jerald. They never had.

  “It was an accident, Jerald. You were doing something you loved to do, enjoying yourself and an accident happened. It was a hard time after that, a hard and painful one for you, I know. But it passed. You healed and you’ve been better for just about sixteen years now. At least you’ve been physically healed,” she finished.

  There was so much he could say to that, so much he could tell the only woman he’d ever loved about her rendition of the skiing accident that had taken place when he was nineteen years old. But he remained silent, just as he had all these years.

  “When is the last time you’ve been out on a date?” she asked after a few moments of silence.

  “I don’t date women,” he replied curtly.

  “Do you date men?” was her follow-up.

  He frowned. “No, mother. I do not date men either.”

  She nodded as if she’d already known that. “And you think that’s normal?”

  Jerald refused to get angry. He knew his mother was only speaking from the heart. She wanted for him what she had with his father and Jackson and Jason had with their wives. But that would never be. He didn’t know how to make her understand that.

  “Tell me, Jerald, have you never met a woman that made your heart beat faster? That changed the way you looked at life? When she talks, you listen, intently, as if every word she speaks means something special, something life-altering to you. And when you’re with her, you feel so free, so relaxed and at peace that the moment she’s away from you there’s a sense of loss that takes your breath away. Have you ever felt that Jerald?”

  No. His mind screamed with the answer but his lips did not move, no sound could break free. Which was silly because the answer was simple. No, he had never experienced any of those things his mother had mentioned. The only thing Jerald had ever managed to feel for a woman was the tell-tale twitching in his pants. The budding growth of desire as his limp dick slowly came to life, proving that after the spinal cord injury, the temporary paralysis and all that painstaking rehab and physical therapy, that he had in fact healed. For an entire year that stirring and desire had been absent from Jerald’s life and it had almost torn him apart. What kind of man would he be if he’d never have another arousal? If he couldn’t be with a woman?

  Pain had begun to shoot up his arms as Jerald had been clenching his fists so tightly, his temples throbbing as he scolded himself for thinking about such a thing with his mother sitting less than ten feet away from him.

  “I do not need to date,” he said slowly, through clenched teeth. “What I need to do is close this deal before Jackson gets back from his honeymoon. That is all I need to do, mother. I wish you would please try to understand that.”

  Lydia stood from her seat, walking purposely until she was on the other side of the desk. She leaned in, cupping her son’s chin in her palm and tilting his head up so that she could look into his eyes.

  “There’s a love out there for you, Jerald. There’s healing for that scar you’ve not only carried on your back but in your heart for whatever reason. You’ll find it if you just open your eyes.”

  He wanted to deny her words again, to ask her to please go away because she would never understand. But Jerald couldn’t do it. He loved his mother and he knew she meant well. So he simply sighed and stood from his seat. He took the hand that was on his face, bringing it back to his lips for a kiss before pulling her into a hug.

  “I love you, mother,” he whispered as he held her close. “Isn’t it enough that I love one woman in my lifetime?”

  Lydia hugged him tightly, her palms flat on his back, patting him before she pulled back to look into his eyes once more.

  “I love you too, son. But no, it’s not enough for you to love me. There’s room in your heart for another. I know there is.”

  When Jerald opened his mouth to reply Lydia placed a hand softly over it, shaking her head from side to side.

  “We won’t speak of it anymore today. You’ve got to get home and get dressed for the Renquist party. It’s at eight and if we’re not all there Julianne Renquist will lose what’s left of her mind. You know how she likes to show off,” she told him.

  Jerald managed a smile as he took his mother’s hand from his mouth and moved to walk her to the door. His calendar notification had warned him of the party the moment he picked up his cell phone this morning. It was the last place he wanted to be, in a room full of people acting as if he gave a damn about what they had to say or who they wanted him to meet.

  He’d much rather be at home watching his video. The new one starring Hailey. The one he’d recorded a week ago when he’d last seen her.

  “I’ll be there,” he told his mother. “I won’t like it, but I’ll be there.”

  “Nobody will like it, darling,” Lydia said with a chuckle before kissing him on the cheek and walking out of his office.

  #

  Hailey hated this dress.

  From the emerald green color that she thought was too dark for a humid summer evening, to the boxed neckline in the front to the plunging back that almost reached the crack of her butt. Her breasts were too big to go unbound, her waist, not nearly skinny enough to pull off the sexy svelte look she figured this dress should display. The best part of the outfit were the shoes, Gianvito Rossi was the name on the box, five inch heels, embellished ankle strap sandals. She loved how they sparkled and made her feel almost like Cinderella.

  There was a black box on the bed. It had been sitting there when she’d returned from her swim this afternoon, along with the garment bag that contained this dress. The instructions on the s
lip of paper with Ronnel’s initials at the top were simple: Be ready at seven. Hailey had raced to her phone and pulled up her calendar thinking she couldn’t possibly have forgotten about some meeting Ronnel had. He’d had them all week long with men discussing investing in his company. None of them had been committal, however, and by the time the meeting was over Hailey had begun to feel like maybe Jerald had been right—high-handed, inconsiderate and arrogant as hell—but right nonetheless. Ronnel’s only option to save face may very well lie with Carrington Enterprises.

  Despite the inner warnings, Hailey had done some research on that particular company, learning of the three Carrington brothers, two of which ran the acquisitions company with sophisticated superiority. They were good looking men, including the father, Jeffrey. And their mother was beautiful, the elegant kind of woman that made you think of old money and big houses. None of which Hailey had ever had.

  There had been no meeting on her calendar for Ronnel tonight that was why she’d taken a leisurely afternoon sightseeing with Rhia and Malaya. When they’d returned she’d gone for a late swim. Tonight she’d planned to catch up on some reading, anything to keep her mind off Jerald Carrington. Well, she thought with a sigh, she’d definitely be able to do that since it seemed she’d be spending her Friday night translating another business meeting and avoiding the quizzical glare Ronnel had begun giving her.

  She walked to the bed and was about to pick up the box so she could finish getting dressed. Ronnel did not like to be kept waiting. Her phone rang just as she was about to reach for the box and with a sigh Hailey turned her attention to the small beaded purse that had also been on the bed when she came in. She’d already packed it with the essentials—her tube of lip gloss, a pack of spearmint gum and her cell phone. The keys to Ronnel’s SUV, the one he allowed her to drive, were already hanging on the key holder in the kitchen. That’s where she’d been instructed to leave them anytime she wasn’t driving the girls around. A new rule, which had been announced the morning after she’d come from Jerald’s house.

  “Hi Gram,” Hailey said after looking at the screen of her phone and accepting the call.

  “Hi Jellybean,” Katherine Jefferson replied, her familiar voice sounding hoarse. Still, Hailey had smiled at the sound of the nickname her grandfather had given her. Only after his death, did her grandmother start calling her the same thing.

  “It’s so good to hear from you,” Hailey replied. She’d been about to sit on the bed then thought better of that idea. She didn’t want to wrinkle the ugly dress, so instead she walked across the floor, holding the phone to her ear as she looked around. “I was going to call you in the morning. I know how you enjoy our early morning talks while you’re having your coffee.”

  Every Saturday morning at seven since the first time she’d left home to go to school Hailey had called her grandmother. Katherine would tell her all about her week and then Hailey would do the same. It had felt as if they’d never been apart and made both of the women feel better about the distance that had to be between them for Hailey to succeed.

  That, and the hesitation in Katherine’s voice alerted Hailey to the fact that something was wrong.

  “I know, but I have to tell you something and I couldn’t lay down tonight and close my eyes without you knowing,” she said.

  Hailey licked her lips nervously, not giving a damn about the lip gloss she’d already applied. “What is it, Gram? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s back,” her grandmother said simply. “Dr. Carter said it was a possibility last year and I guess now it’s a reality. The cancer is back.”

  Hailey closed her eyes. The hand that had been resting leisurely at her side reaching out to grab the edge of the desk she’d been standing next to.

  “He’s sure?” Hailey asked knowing the moment it was out what her grandmother would say.

  “He’s the doctor, dear,” she replied.

  “We can get a second opinion. Remember the last time we did that they told us something different,” Hailey continued, desperation clear in her tone.

  “But I still had to undergo surgery to remove the tumors. They found two more this time. Dr. Carter wants to do a biopsy but I know its cancer.”

  “Gram, you just said it yourself, he’s the doctor. You have no way of knowing what’s going on inside your body,” Hailey tried to reason with her grandmother. She also tried to deny what she’d feared most when she’d left Maitlin to take this job.

  “I know what I feel, Jellybean. I get up in the morning and I cough and cough until I feel like I’m going to pass out. Then my chest hurts so bad I can’t do anything but lay in bed for hours. I knew it was there even before they saw it on those fancy tests.”

  The more her grandmother talked, the better Hailey could hear it. The same raspy tone of voice her grandfather had just before he’d been diagnosed with mesothelioma. Her heart beat wildly and so loud it almost drowned out her grandmother’s words. This could not be happening again. Fate seemed to hate Hailey with some sort of vengeance.

  “When is the biopsy scheduled?” she asked, trying like hell to remain calm.

  “Two weeks from Monday. I told Dr. Carter’s nurse to call you to make all those other appointments. I’m just so tired and I can’t remember everything all the time. That lawyer’s office called me the other day too, wanted me to schedule an appointment with their doctors for the asbestos tests. I didn’t call them back, didn’t really know what to say,” she finished with a heavy sigh.

  If Hailey closed her eyes again she would see her grandmother sitting in her rocking chair in front of the fireplace in the living room. There were two chairs there, one that had been for Pops and the other for Gram. They used to sit there every evening after dinner while Hailey lay on the rug between them coloring in her books or reading them a story. They loved when she read to them.

  “Don’t worry, Gram. I’ll call Dr. Carter and I’ll call the lawyers. I’ll handle everything,” she promised her.

  Hailey always promised the same thing and she did whatever she could to keep that promise. After hanging up with her grandmother she typed an alert on her phone for first thing Monday morning. She would call the doctor’s office and find out exactly what was going on with her grandmother and then she would call the lawyers that had sued for wrongful death on Pop’s behalf. Ten years ago her grandfather had gone to a lawyer because some of his co-workers had suggested he do so. Apparently, as Pops had made his living working for a steel company down at the docks, he’d unknowingly been exposed to asbestos fibers in some of the materials they’d been using. Residue from those fibers had been embedded in his lungs. Two weeks later the lawyers’ office called and suggested Pops see an oncologist. He did and within a month he was diagnosed with mesothelioma, a type of cancer that can only come from exposure to asbestos. It is also incurable.

  Squeezing the phone in her hand Hailey tried like hell not to cry. Pops didn’t like tears. He said they were unproductive. And Hailey believed him. She had loved him with every ounce of her being and had lost him, just as she feared she was about to lose her grandmother.

  The loud knocking on her door had her jumping and she turned just in time to see Ronnel stepping inside her room.

  “It is seven,” he said stiffly.

  Hailey nodded. “Right. I apologize. I just had to deal with this family thing. I’ll be down in a second,” she told him.

  He did not leave right away, but stood there staring at her. The morning after she’d been with Jerald, Ronnel had come into the kitchen during breakfast. He never had breakfast with her and the girls. She had stood to leave believing he wanted to spend time with his daughters, but he’d told her to sit. Throughout the meal each time she’d looked up, Ronnel had been staring at her. It seemed strange, but not as strange as she figured this job opportunity might look to some. So she’d shrugged it off and moved on.

  Tonight, the look unnerved her. Or maybe that was because she was still reeling from her grandmother’s n
ews. Whatever it was, this job was now more important than ever. The money the lawyers were able to recover from the asbestos manufacturers came slowly and unpredictably. It usually paid a bit towards the balance of some of the larger bills but never enough to meet their financial needs. Now, if her grandmother was indeed sick, they would incur even more debt. Doctor’s visits, surgery, medications and with a pang of sorrow resting heavily in the center of her chest, she thought, possibly hospice. And there was still the promise she’d made to her grandfather that she would be the first in their family to graduate from college. No, there was no doubt, Hailey needed this money, now more than she ever had.

  She moved to the bed slipping her phone in the purse, hearing Ronnel move from the doorway as she did. Hailey put on the shimmering jewelry that had been incased in that black box and she slapped more lip gloss on her lips. She was out the door in less than five minutes, walking down the marble steps, across the foyer floor and outside to the waiting limousine. Whatever Ronnel had going on tonight she would be there. She would smile the way he’d told her to and translate whatever he needed. Then she would come back to this house that sometimes seemed more like a fortress, go to sleep, wake up in the morning and do it all over again.

  Because for Hailey, there was no other choice.

  #

  Leonard Renquist was one of the top ten highest paid Hollywood producers. His wife Julianne had acted in one of his first movies, almost a million years ago, Jerald thought with a sigh after he’d made the rounds saying hello to everyone he needed to. He’d quickly found himself a corner to hide out in and now sipped his vodka tonic while watching tonight’s entertainment.

  Retired from acting, Julianne now spent the majority of her time throwing lavish parties citing one worthy cause or another. Jerald couldn’t even remember which cause this year’s event was for because he figured the “cause” thing was a huge sham anyway. Unfortunately, this was one of the few events his parents were adamant about him and his brothers attending. His mother and Julianne had attended the same private high school and had kept close contact with each other over the years.