“Yes,” I murmured. Our agreement. We would stand together.
We quietly held each other until the doorbell sounded. Jonas got an alert on his phone and I sat back for him to check it. “Arthur,” he said. “Melissa left.”
I kissed him. Good.
He tapped his phone again. “Ian’s downstairs. We need to leave. We won’t be coming back here, so make sure you take everything with you.”
“I still haven’t packed anything for our vacation,” I said, my voice going up an octave.
That earned me one of his mischievous grins. “Trust me. You won’t need anything but your passport.”
My brows rose. “Passport? Please tell me.”
“Seychelles, North Island in the Indian Ocean,” he said, finally relenting.
My face lit up in surprise and he kissed me. I wasn’t familiar with the place and didn’t have time to look it up, but I dutifully went upstairs and collected my passport and a few things from the bathroom and bedroom to take with me.
My curiosity was piqued about the vacation. I found it a welcome distraction as we left the loft and got into Ian’s car for the ride over to Rikers Island in Queens. Jonas kept me close as he and Ian discussed business, then Ian had his driver put on music for the rest of the distance to Rikers Island. Once at the gate, Ian gave his attorney pass and paperwork for our visit at the building marked Registration. We then gave our identifications and did security checks before moving on to the main building of the prison, where we were to go for the visit.
“It’s best to leave everything but your ID and the statement in the car,” Ian instructed before we got out. Once outside, it all hit me. The steel barbwire fences running the length of a virtually windowless brick building really set the scene. We were going to prison.
We walked inside, where Ian’s attorney pass granted us passage to skip in front of the long line of men, women, and children there for visits. Still, we had to go through the security checks. Thorough security checks. I felt a little worked over by the pat down, mouth, and hair checks. Jonas and Ian seemed to have taken it in stride when we joined up again.
We were next led into the visitation area, where we found Diane waiting for us in one of the brightly colored wooden and metal chair rows. Like Ian, she stood out in her expensive business suit.
She rose when she saw us, along with a thin male with wiry hair and glasses who introduced himself. “I’m Tim Waters. Declan Gilroy’s Public Defender. We are waiting here until they collect him from his cell.”
Diane looked at me. “The officer will escort us through those doors,” she pointed to the one open with a uniformed officer standing outside of it. The room is small and will be divided. You on one side and Mr. Gilroy on the other. Both sides will have a desk with microphones to speak. There is a large plastic wall between you so he will be visible, but you will be protected.”
“And where will you be?” I asked, no longer wishing to be alone in one of the rooms.
“I, along with Jonas and Ian, will be in the chairs right behind you. We have been given half an hour, but I don’t think we will need to use it all. What do you think?”
“I’ve prepared a statement that I’d like to read before anything else. That’s all I’d like to do,” I said, glancing between the three of them.
“Yes. Jonas informed me,” she replied, glancing at Jonas. “We will have you speak first, and then Mr. Gilroy will be allowed to speak.”
“He has things to say, as well as an apology,” Tim spoke up.
Jonas and Ian gave him a hard look. “You’re also aware if his apology is abusive, we will end the visitation.”
He nodded and we sat down. After a few minutes, a number was called out that had Diane, Ian, and Tim rising again, with Jonas and myself following. We were escorted into a plain drop-ceiling room with noisy overhead lights. Other than that, the room was just as Diane had described, two-sided with a long shelf and a plastic wall dividing it. I was brought to sit on a wooden chair in front of a built-in microphone. Jonas, Ian, Diane, and Tim took the seats on the row of chairs behind me. I stared across and noticed the same setup on the other side. I wiped my hands on my jeans and took out the sheet of paper from the folder with my statement. A bell sounded and my pulse sprinted as Declan was brought in through the door on the other side. His wispy, reddish-blonde hair was in disarray and a few days’ growth of beard appeared on his face. He was in dressed in an orange jumpsuit and white t-shirt. His green eyes were sharp and immediately zeroed in on me. A smug smile spread across his face.
I tightened my jaw as I peered at him. He looked past me and seemed to realize I wasn’t alone. His facial expression morphed, taking on a softer appearance. One I also found familiar. It was the face of the man I had fallen in love with years before. He slumped his shoulders as he sat down in the seat.
“Alright, Lily, you can say what you have prepared,” Diane said.
“What? This is my visit. Aren’t I the one who gets to speak?” Declan argued. “Tim?” He turned to his attorney for support.
“Turn off his microphone,” Ian said.
Diane motioned for the guard and they muted Declan’s microphone. His face reddened as his mask slipped, showing the monster we both knew lived beneath.
I cleared my throat and started reading.
“Today will be the last day that I will voluntarily see you, Declan Gilroy. The next time we are in the same room, I will be testifying against you in court for assaulting me outside of Parco’s Diner—”
“Objection,” Declan yelled, loud enough to be heard without his microphone.
Diane rose and walked over to the microphone. “This isn’t court. This is a visit. You can’t object to it. You can end it. Do you want to end it now?” she growled.
He gave her a harsh look. “This is—” He tapped the microphone, and Diane requested that it be unmuted for him to continue speaking. “This was supposed to be a visit for me to apologize to her.”
“You can’t both speak at the same time. Lily is speaking first. You will have your turn after she’s done, or do we need to mute you again to behave?” she said, her last words dripping with sarcasm.
He sneered at her, then gave me a hard look and my pulse picked up. Tim rose and came over to the microphone. “You will get your chance to speak, Declan.”
Declan puffed his chest out, but gave Tim a nod. They took their seats again.
“You may continue, Lily,” Diane said.
I lifted my chin. “I will also testify against you in court for harassing me with threatening calls and for distributing pornography to my coworkers—”
“Alleged. You have no proof,” Declan interrupted and lifted the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll end this visit now if you can’t control yourself,” I said authoritatively.
His eyes widened and his lips curled up. He didn’t speak, but placed his hands on the surface of the desk, then closed and opened them.
Sweat broke out all over my body as my eyes narrowed on his hands. The hands that had hurt me over and over again. Never again.
I took a deep breath and continued. “My only regret in all of this is not contacting the police when you first beat me. I lied, protected, and supported you because I believed in you. I brought you to my family in hopes—”
“In hopes that you and your snobby parents would change me, try to turn me into someone who would spoil you like they did,” he said, cutting me off again.
“I wasn’t spoiled, I was loved and cared for by my parents,” I interjected. “And they weren’t snobs, they just saw in you what I didn’t see. That you never loved or cared about me.” My voice was calm, but passionate.
“I did. I do. I always will. You are the love of my life,” he said and leaned his body over the desk, closer to the glass.
I pressed my lips together. “I don’t believe you even know what love is. If you did, you wouldn’t have hurt me. But I’m here to let you know that your immature and feeble
attempts at ruining me didn’t succeed. I’m thriving. I am loved and happy. I doubt you even know what love is, or empathy beyond yourself. But hopefully, during the years you stay in jail for whatever additional charges are to come, you will use that time to better yourself.”
“I’m not staying in jail,” Declan said defiantly and cursed. His skin turned red. He was breathing hard into the microphone. We were quiet for a few moments that seemed like hours. “My turn yet?” he gritted.
“Are you finished, Lily?” Diane asked.
I turned and nodded my head to her.
Tim walked over to the microphone and said. “Go ahead, Declan.”
Declan glowered. “I was going to apologize, but since you decided to act like a stupid bitch, you can fuck off you—”
“We’re done,” I said loudly into the microphone on my side. Then I stood up, squared my shoulders, and took a step away from the desk.
“She can’t leave. It’s not time,” Declan yelled. “Lily, stop! Sit your ass back in that chair, damn it. Don’t do this. I’m losing my job, my place, everything. You have to help me. I’m sorry.”
I walked over to Jonas, who was beaming at me. “I’m ready to go.”
“I didn’t mean it. I love you.” I could hear Declan yelling. “What about your stuff? I can give everything back to you the second I leave…”
Jonas kissed me possessively, and a loud bang filled the space. I startled and turned my head toward the sound, only to find Declan punching his fists against the divider wall. Two correctional officers quickly grabbed hold of him. He was swearing and flailing, but I didn’t stay to watch more.
I was done with Declan Gilroy.
“Excellent, Lily,” Diane said. “His violent outburst will be on record for this visit.”
I hadn’t set out to get that, so I had no response. However, I did thank her.
We re-entered the visitation room and found Heather in the waiting area. Her face was a cheery mask of heavy makeup. I wasn’t sure she would still be able to visit with Declan today, but I didn’t want to damper the smile on her face as she rushed up to greet me. “I’m sorry I rushed away yesterday. There was a flood in the basement of our apartment building. I had to spend the rest of the afternoon clearing it out,” she said.
Jonas touched my arm. “We have to go, Lily.”
“I’m sorry. I hope you were able to salvage a few things,” I said.
“Oh, I did thanks. But poor Declan. He’s going to be so mad. I was able to save most everything, except for his old leather jacket, his helmet, a box of tools, a DVD called Atuelle—”
I dug my nails into the center of my hand. “Auteuil, France,” I said. Where my father was born. He had one of the missing videos of my parents from our vacation.
She darted her tongue over her cracked lips, her hand going to her neck. “Was that yours?”
“We’re leaving,” Jonas barked. I took a couple of steps.
“Wait,” Heather called out.
My gaze followed after her as she rushed over to a chair and snatched a medium-size manila envelope. I stopped moving. Her hands were shaking as she tried to hand it to me. “The stuff was soaking in water. I don’t know how long. I only discovered it when it slipped out of a book.”
“I have to go,” Diane said.
I took the envelope in my hand. “A book. Do you know the name of it?” I asked, ignoring Jonas’s tugs on my arm.
Heather chewed her mangled lip. Her eyes dilated. “Was that yours too? I threw it away. It was molding. I think it had a drawing on the front of it. Green.” She said to my apt face. “It wasn’t a college book that you left. It damaged some of the photos. I think some of the words imprinted on the photos,” she jabbered.
“We should leave,” Ian said with urgency.
“Lily,” Jonas said softly.
My fingers scrambled inside of the folder and took one out. A photo of me at five years old with my parents. It was damaged, like Heather said, and I tried to decipher the letters.
“d r e n one grow up e”
All children, except for one, grow up. Peter Pan.
“Was that important to Declan? Do you think he will be angry with me?” I think I heard Heather say.
But I couldn’t see or hear. I could only feel my heart breaking into a million pieces.
“You’re worth more. Your life is worth more,” Jonas cooed as he held me in his arms in the back of the car. How we got there, I wasn’t sure. My consciousness had burrowed under memories.
It’s the night of my fifth birthday. I’m wearing my angel costume. “Can I wear it to bed Mommy?”
My mommy giggles. She tugs on the wings that are hanging off the back of the white lacy dress that’s coated with paints and punch stains. She untangles the halo she made from the tangles in my hair. “Yes.”
“Yippee!” I run and jump on the bed and she laughs again.
Daddy comes in the door. “You’re not flying without pixie dust, little vagabond,” he jokes.
I giggle as he lifts me up and flies me in his arms. He places me down and reaches to the side of the bed. “I have your present.”
My head tilts and I try to think. “Mommy said the party was my present.”
“Yes, but you were so good, Daddy has another one,” Mommy says and sits down next to me. He places a leather-bound book on my lap. It’s heavy. I run my hands over the gold letters. “P .e .t.” I say.
My eyes widen and my mouth forms an ‘o’. “Peter Pan!” I cry excitedly.
He opens the front cover. “It says. ‘Ever the vagabond, Tiger Lily. With Love. Your father, Randall Salomé’.”
I place my hands on his cheeks. “Why you crying, Daddy?”
“Happy tears,” he says.
I tilt my head. “Like happy thoughts?”
“You’re my happy thought,” he says.
“Mine is a secret.” I lean up and he tilts his head down so I can share a secret. “You and mommy are my happy thoughts,” I whisper.
“Our beautiful Tiger Lily,” Daddy says and they cuddle and kiss me. “Let’s read it together.”
“All children except one grows up.”
Jonas lifted my head. “Ian’s dropping us off at my plane. David can bring anything from the loft you might want to take along.” I blinked at him and gave a little shake of my head. It didn’t matter.
I’m lying on Jonas’s chest in the loft. He’s reading Peter Pan to me.
My book was gone. My parents were gone. Memories shifted again.
I open the door at Franklin Street. A police officer with watery eyes says, “Can I come in?”
“My parents are sleeping…” It’s quiet. I step outside. Where is their car?
“Please. Can we talk inside?” he asks.
I closed my eyes as tears tunneled down my face. I’m holding it together. I’ll make it.
I sit on the front pew of the church where the community memorial service is being held for my parents.
I’m holding it together. I’ll make it.
“Oh, they tell me of a home far beyond the skies. Where my loved ones have gone,” the gospel soprano sings out before the caskets of my parents.
I drop my head and sob.
A small, warm hand touches my arm. “Don’t be sad, Lily.” I lift my head to find Erica Higgins, one of my mother’s first graders. She hands me a drawing. It’s my mom and dad with angel wings flying above the elementary school. “See. They will fly back to see us.”
“Lily, we’re getting out to board the plane,” Jonas said gently.
We walked out of the car and onto the tarmac. “Thanks, Ian,” I heard Jonas say. My vision was blurred. We moved up into the cabin. Jonas fastened me in and cupped my face. “I’m proud of you, Tiger Lily. I know you’re hurting right now, but it’s over. You have your life and you have me. I love you.”
Memories clouded my vision again.
Jonas is reading the inscription of Peter Pan aloud on my bed in Jersey City. We a
re talking about it and he’s holding me. We are standing in the rain and he whispers in my ear, “I love you, Lily.”
I’m lying on Jonas’s chest in the loft. He’s reading Peter Pan to me.
Jonas held my hand as the plane taxied down the runway and lifted off into the sky.
We flew away.
JONAS HANDED ME a warm cloth at my bedside and I wiped over my face. “Thank you,” I mumbled. My throat felt like sandpaper.
He handed me a water. “I know how much that book meant to you. I’m here when you’re ready to talk about it.”
He went to rise, but I clasped his arm. “Where are you going?”
“After I put the towel away, right next to you.” He stroked my hair back from my face. I closed my eyes and waited. But I knew I wouldn’t have to wait long, because I wasn’t alone. Jonas would be by my side, helping me through my grief.
Jonas had quietly took me back to the suite the second the emergency lights were turned off. I went quietly. I had calmed down. How Jonas had managed to get me out of the prison, I did not know. It was something my mind had mercifully tucked away for the moment—the only mercy afforded me after finding out what happened to my book. A gift of love and a story straight from the heart of my father, marking the loving bond we shared as a family, was gone forever.
Truly, that book worked as a talisman, inspiring and guiding my life. My most precious memories were imprinted on its pages. I strived to be a Salomé, their loyal and brave Tiger Lily, who worked hard and never gave up on her dreams. It was my reminder of love and family. Because I was the last of the living Salomés, I had shared the story with the man I loved and told him my dreams of sharing it with our child. I told him how I hoped it would become our tradition, our legacy.
Despite all that the book meant to me, I knew I had been willing to sacrifice it and all my stolen possessions to remove from my life the man who had controlled and hurt me. And just like fate, the book became my ultimate offering. From its destruction came the last leverage Declan had over me. His violent aggression at the jail may have caused him to remain there until trial. This year? Next? I wasn’t certain when that would be, nor did I care. I wasn’t afraid either. I was completely done with him.
Tiger Lily: Part Three Page 25