My phone rings and when I look at the display, I see that it's Carter calling me. Again. For the ten thousandth time. And for the ten thousandth time, I decline to take the call and then wait. And sure enough, about two minutes later, my phone chirps with an incoming text.
“Darby, we need to talk. Please.”
A hundred snarky replies come to mind, but I dismiss them all. Giving him any sort of a reaction is only going to encourage him to keep trying to contact me. And that's the last thing I want right now. What I want is for Carter to leave me the hell alone while I sort through all this crap in my head.
“Carter?” Darby asks.
“Again.”
“Maybe you should talk to him,” she says. “I know this looks bad. Really bad. But, maybe it's a misunderstanding?”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “I highly doubt that.”
“Not to make you relive that again –”
“But you're going to make me relive it again,” I say, giving her a wry smile.
She says nothing but gives me a little shrug. I called her down here to give me her perspective, so filling her in on all the gory, unpleasant details is the least I can do. I recount the entire evening, leaving little out. Jade listens to every word, nodding along, but not interrupting. When I'm through, she takes a sip of her coffee and nods.
“That's – fucked up,” she says.
“To put it mildly.”
“When he walked in and saw her, how did Carter – seem?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don't know,” she says. “I just – you said he seemed as surprised as you were. Did it seem genuine to you?”
I think back, replaying his reactions in my head. “Yeah, he seemed surprised,” I say. “Though, I figured it was just him being surprised and angry that he got caught. That she showed up when she wasn't supposed to have been there.”
“Could be,” she says.
“You don't sound entirely convinced.”
“You said he played it off like he didn't know the woman?”
I nod. “Yeah. He made a big show of asking who she was, and all that.”
“Huh,” she replies. “Is it possible – and I'm just putting it out there – that he genuinely didn't know her?”
I laugh. “I doubt that,” I say. “She must have had a key to his place to be inside when we got there.”
She shrugs. “It's possible,” she says. “I'm not saying he's innocent, I'm just asking questions.”
Something is obviously swirling around in Jade’s mind. I can see it. She's cooking up one of her big conspiracy theories. She's always fancied herself a bit of a detective or something. Which is fine, I appreciate her perspective. Always. I just don't think this is a case of anything but what it seems to be – Carter got caught cheating on me.
He broke my heart. Again. That son of a bitch.
“Let's hear it, Columbo,” I say. “What's the theory behind the crime?”
She shrugs. “No real theory,” she says. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Then what is it?” I ask. “I can see you mulling something over in that big brain of yours.”
A slow smile spreads across her face. “That obvious, huh?”
I laugh – the first real laugh I've had in days. “I just know you,” I say. “I can see when you've got your mind wrapped around something.”
“Fair enough,” she says. “Well, since I'm busted anyway, I was just wondering about the timing of it all.”
I sip my drink and set the cup back down. “Timing? What do you mean?”
“Just that – Mason finds out you two are a thing again and raises hell with you,” she says. “Makes all kinds of unfounded statements and threats, right? And then this happens?”
I nod slowly. “Sure. Yeah.”
“He's desperate to keep you away from Carter because, for whatever reason, he's got a real hard on for him and thinks you seeing him is going to somehow damage his political ambitions or whatever.”
“Okay…” I say, starting to see where she's going with this.
“It's not about his ambitions though, mind you. It's about controlling you. Always has been, always will be,” Jade says.
“That much I can agree on.”
“Anyway,” she says, “with all of that in the background already, some mysterious brunette shows up in his place, making it look like Carter's cheating on you – with a woman he looked genuinely shocked to see. A woman he says he doesn't even know? Doesn't that strike you as – odd? As a bit – coincidental, timing-wise?”
I sit back and let out a long breath. Truthfully, I hadn’t thought about it like that before. It's kind of out there, but there seems to be some ring of truth in it. Or maybe I'm so desperate to believe that Carter wouldn't cheat on me, that I'm grasping at anything that sounds even moderately feasible.
“Okay, let's pretend this theory is correct,” I say. “That doesn't explain how Mason got her into Carter's place. He's got a doorman and you have to check in and show ID before they let you go up.”
Jade cocks an eyebrow at me. “Do you think a man in Mason's position would have trouble getting doors to open for him?”
“Probably not,” I admit. “I just can't see him abusing his position like that. I mean –”
“I can. Easily,” she says. “If it means Mason getting what Mason wants – and in this case, destroying Carter in your eyes, the thing he wants the most – I see him having no problem abusing his position. This might come as a shock to you, but I don't think your brother is the most ethical man out there.”
I hate to admit but, it's an interesting and intriguing theory – Mason setting Carter up to drive a wedge between us. And it's not like he hasn't done something like this before. Still, it seems a little far-fetched to me.
“I don't know, Jade,” I say. “I really don't. And I wouldn't know where to even start getting the truth of it. I can't talk to Mason or Carter, obviously. They're both going to have their own, competing agendas. And I don't know anybody –”
“Sure, you do,” she says. “You know Pops. Well, you know of Pops.”
“Right. Like he'd be unbiased.”
She shrugs. “Maybe not,” she says. “But, if he's half the man Carter tells you he is, he'll give it to you straight. He'll tell you whether or not Carter is capable of doing something like that.”
I take another drink of my cappuccino, letting my mind wander. It's not the worst idea Jade’s ever had. It would help me get some answers. And she's right, if Pops is half the man Carter makes him out to be, he'll give it to me straight – whether I like his answer or not.
The question now is whether or not I want to walk through that door if I open it. Am I willing to hear that Carter isn't the man I thought he was? That he’s been using me – for whatever reason? Though, I can't imagine what for, to be honest.
If I don't go talk to Pops, I'm always going to have doubts lurking in the back of my mind. I have to find out the truth, even if it means my heart gets shattered in the process.
* * *
“Well, if it isn't the notorious Darby White.”
I give Pops a smile as I sit down on the couch across the table from where he sits in his wheelchair. He's not what I expected. I guess based on his reputation and all, I was kind of expecting him to look like an older version of Tony Soprano or something.
Instead, Pops looks like a kind, doting grandfather. A shock of thinning white hair covers his head, and deep lines etch his face, but he's got a wide, engaging smile, and dark, glittering eyes, filled with life and vitality.
“Notorious?” I ask.
He shrugs. “You've been kinda like Bigfoot all these years,” he says. “Heard a lot about ya but never laid eyes on ya.”
I smile and laugh a little. “I suppose that's a fair assessment,” I say and look around Pops' place. “It's very – festive – in here.”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Looks like Santa's fuckin' workshop exploded in h
ere,” he says. “Listen, I like Christmas as much as the next guy, but Adriana’s gone too damn far with it. She's adding somethin' new every damn day. And she's doing it to get under the kid's skin. Knows he hates Christmas and thinks she can make him like it by giving him a holiday enema or something.”
I laugh so hard, tears prick at my eyes. The man is hilarious.
“Anyway, it's nice to finally meet the woman who captured the kid's heart,” he says. “I'm glad to see you back in his life. You're good for him, Darby White.”
“I don't know about that,” I say.
“I do,” Pops replies.
His eyes are fixed to mine, his gaze steady and piercing. It's clear that although his stroke has left him with some physical limitations, his mind is as sharp as ever.
A tall, Hispanic woman enters the room and sets a tray down on the table between us. She looks over and gives me a smile as she hands me a glass of water. I give her my thanks and take a quick sip.
“I don't want to rush you,” the woman says, “but it's almost time for his physical therapy.”
“Of course,” I say. “I won't be long. I'm sorry to drop in on you like this so unexpectedly.”
“Take all the time you want, darlin',” Pops says. “Therapy can wait.”
The woman straightens up and looks down at Pops, a small smile on her lips. I can see the affection between the two of them, and honestly, it’s adorable.
“No, it can’t, and you know it,” she says.
“She's a slave driver, this one,” Pops grumbles. “I best get a sponge bath out of it this time.”
“You wish, old man,” she says. “I don't even do that for my husband.”
She stands up and laughs as she leaves the room. They have such an easy rapport, and it's easy to see the camaraderie, and care that exists between them. It makes me smile.
“So,” he says, turning back to me. “What brings you by to see an old man like me? Come here to ask for my blessing to marry the kid?”
I give him a small rueful smile. “Hardly.”
“No? Then what can I do for you?” he asks. “Not that I need a reason to have a beautiful young woman stop by to see me, mind you.”
He laughs, and I can't help but join him. He's just so – jovial. Nice. I have a hard time believing the man sitting in front of me, so full of good nature and joy, could be the cold-blooded killer my brother thinks he is. He's way more of a gregarious grandfather than ruthless mobster.
Time changes people sure, but I have a hard time believing that somebody who was, according to my brother, a cold-blooded murderer twenty years ago, could be this kind and jovial today. It seems like such a radical, even unrealistic, personality shift to me.
Sitting there with Pops, seeing him interact with his nurse – it makes me want to believe that Carter is telling me the truth about him. That he's right. And if he's telling me the truth about Pops, is he telling me the truth about everything else?
“I actually did want to talk to you,” I say. “About Carter.”
“I figured as much,” he says.
“Did he – tell you?”
He cocks his head as he looks at me. “Don't even tell me he did somethin' to fuck this up already,” he says. “I'll slap that kid upside the head so fast, it'll make his head spin. I told him. I fuckin' told him –”
A small smile touches my lips. “He didn't mess anything up. Actually, I – I don't know what to think about a recent situation,” I admit. “I was hoping that since you know him better than anybody – including me – that you might have some insight. Some insight I can use – that I need – to make some decisions.”
“First off, I wouldn't say I know him better than you. I just know him different than you,” Pops says. “But, there are certain parts of his life he don't share with me. Shit he knows would bore me to tears – and he's probably right.”
We laugh together until Pops breaks down into a coughing fit. He gasps and wheezes and holds up a finger for me to wait as he takes a deep pull on an inhaler. A few moments later, he's breathing a lot easier.
“This getting' old shit is for the birds,” he says. “Avoid it at all costs if you can.”
“I'll do my best,” I say.
“Anyway,” he says, “he told me all about you, don't you worry about that. Ten years ago, I'd never seen him happier. Kid was walking on sunshine and had his head in the clouds all day. I'd never seen him so happy to be honest. That was because of you. All you.”
“Thank you, but I –”
“When you and he stopped seeing each other,” he continues, “it was like somebody had extinguished the light inside of him. He just went flat and dark. I guess they call it depression today. Whatever it was, I've never seen him more miserable. Not even when he was fresh outta that orphanage. It was like somebody reached inside of him and ripped out his heart. It killed me to see it.”
My lips compress into a tight line, and I look down as a familiar pain sears my heart. Somehow, knowing that Carter went through a lot of the same feelings and emotions I did, makes me feel better. As shitty as that sounds. But, I can't help it. Hearing, from a third party that Carter was just as miserable without me as I was without him, makes me feel better.
“But, lemme tell you,” he says. “Ever since you two got back together, that light came back. Twice as bright. Three times, maybe. It's just shinin' outta every orifice on the kid. It's good to see, honestly. That kid needed somethin' good in his life.”
I let out a wry chuckle. “As if countless millions of dollars, living a debaucherously playboy lifestyle, and being the most eligible bachelor in Manhattan wasn’t good enough?”
He shrugs. “Oh, he enjoys life, don't get me wrong,” he says. “He's young and does stupid things – and by stupid, I mean things I wish I'd been able to do when I was his age –”
I laugh and shake my head. Pops' personality is infectious. It's warm and delightful. He's a sweet old man and I find myself growing very fond of him, very quickly.
“– but what he needed all along was somebody like you,” he continues. “Somebody who gets rid of that darkness that consumes him sometimes. Not to be too fuckin' poetic, but he's always needed somebody to fill that missing piece inside of him. He's needed you, Darby. He's always needed you.”
I sit back and let what he just said wash over me. On the one hand, it makes my heart swell with unfettered joy. On the other, it makes the pain already throbbing in my heart even more vibrant. I really don't know what to think or to believe right now.
Pops looks at me and I can see the questions in his eyes. He cocks his head, letting those wise, kind eyes pierce me. Look straight through me. I can tell that he's trying to understand the reason behind my visit.
“Might as well spit it out, Darby,” he coaxes. “It's what you came here for, after all. Let's get it all out and see if we can't figure it out together, huh?”
He's right – I know he’s right – so I spill the story. I tell him everything about finding the woman in his house – all of it. When I finish speaking, Pops runs a hand through his hair, and fixes his eyes on me again.
“Somethin' about this stinks to high heaven,” he says. “There is absolutely no way Carter would ever two-time you like that. He'd never run around on you, Darby. I know the kid like the back of my hand, maybe even better than that, and I’m telling you, he wouldn't do you dirty like that.”
“I want to believe that, Pops,” I say. “But the evidence is pretty damning. I mean, she was in his house. Which means she had to have a key.”
“Unless somebody let her in,” he says. “Did you ask the doormen?”
I shake my head. “I didn't.”
“Might want to,” he says. “Might want to see who they let up and allowed in. I may not know much, but I know that kid is crazy in love with you. And that he'd never do anything to jeopardize that. Ever. He can be an asshole sometimes – believe me, nobody knows that better than me – but he's not stupid.”
&nbs
p; My breath catches in my throat, and my eyes grow wide when I hear those words. I shake my head a little, desperately wanting to believe them, but denying the message all the same.
“H – he's never said that to me,” I say. “Those words. We've never –”
Pops laughs. “Doesn't make it any less true,” he says. “Whenever I see him now, he's got that look on his face again – the one he had when you were with him all those years ago. He's walkin’ on sunshine and has his head in the clouds all over again. I know this kid inside and out. I've seen him with lots of women and I know when something is real for him, and when something isn't. He doesn't need to say the words for me to know. And I think somewhere deep down inside, you know that too.”
I know what I've felt in my heart over the time I've been with Carter – how intense and powerful it is. How overwhelming and scary. And even though I've never said it out loud, I know that I love him. Which is what’s making this situation even more difficult and unbearable.
“He loves you, Darby,” Pops says gently. “Loves you more than life itself.”
“I – I love him too, Pops,” I say, surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth. “I honestly do.”
“I know. I can see it in your eyes,” he says. “Now, the question is, what you're going to do about this fucked up situation?”
I shake my head. “I don't know yet. I still have so many unanswered questions. Things I'm still trying to reconcile inside of me.”
“Know what I think?”
I grin. “I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway.”
“Damn right. It's my right as an old man,” he says and chuckles. “You want answers, you should be askin’ that stupid brother of yours some questions.”
It's interesting to me that two people, completely independent of each other, both tagged my brother as a suspect in this situation. Yeah, he's a controlling asshole. He thinks he knows what I need better than I do. And he's more concerned about his political ambitions than me. I know all of this. Better than anybody else.
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