by Dylan Allen
“Will you please have a seat?” I say to the Riverses.
They walk over to the chairs I’ve set up next to my family.
Regan and Tyson watch me with wide-eyed awe.
“You guys okay?” I ask them before I get things started. Regan nods yes, Tyson just looks down at his lap. He’s taken the news terribly.
I never realized how much he missed my father, too. He was just a baby when he left. But he’s refused to see him. Until tonight. I haven’t pushed because I’ve thought it might be for the best.
My father’s been extremely cooperative. I think he’s just happy to have a clean bed and all his meals. Being here for the last week hasn’t done anything to jog his memory. Rivers Wilde was only in the early stages of development when he left. Nothing here would look familiar. Certainly not his children. We’ve already had two sessions with a psychiatrist. After all of this time without any medical care, it’s been an essential piece in trying to help him get the tools he needs to rebuild his life.
We’ve told him his real name. Told him he’s from here. Yet, I haven’t found the courage to say the words “I’m your son.” And maybe that’s because it doesn’t feel like an honest thing to say.
I’m not his son. Not really. I’m the son of the Legend of Lucas Wilde. But he’s not real.
I’ve grappled with that all week. Does that mean I’m not real either? Kal shot that question down vehemently and convincingly.
Of course, I am someone. I’m the man I’ve made myself. Just because I spent my life chasing what turned out to be something contrived, doesn’t mean I’m contrived. I’ve made choices, followed my convictions and I’ve built a good life.
All of that is true. But it’s going to take more than her sweet assurances to make me believe it completely. When this is all over, I’m getting back to my day-to-day as quickly as I can. I’m going back to the office on Monday. Making my appearance official and then figuring out how to get Kal to stay in Houston.
I clap my hands together in anticipation and turn to face my guests.
“Thank you for coming. I asked you all here today because while I was gone, I found out what happened to Lucas Wilde.” I rip the Band-Aid off fast and without any warning. And I watch their faces.
My mother rolls her eyes.
Gigi’s eyes fall shut and she grips Hayes’ hand tightly.
“Remi, this is ridiculous. We already know what happened,” my mother scoffs.
“We know what you say happened,” I respond.
“He walked away from his life for love, Remi. It cost him everything. Cost us all everything.” The vitriol in her voice is diminished by the extreme sadness in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Tina.” Gigi’s head has been bowed all this time, but she looks up at my mother now. Her hazel eyes are bloodshot and wet. “I know Lucas and I hurt you in ways we couldn’t begin to imagine. The decision we made wasn’t a flippant, easy one.”
“Really?” My mother’s disbelieving voice is laced with relief. This is, clearly, a very long overdue conversation. My heart, so long cold to her, constricts as I watch a sadness I’ve never seen come over her face. It ages her instantly.
“Yes. We chose differently the first time. You didn’t know that we met in college—”
“Of course I know that.” My mother’s voice cracks with indignation. “Lucas told me all about you when we got married. Called you a phase. Said he knew nothing lasting could be built on something that floated so far off the ground,” she says spitefully.
Gigi nods and her smile is wistful and fleeting, her eyes a little lost. “Yes, that’s what we told each other when we broke up. It felt like an awful lot of trouble to go to for something as unknown as love. His family hated me. Mine hated him. And we both, especially him, didn’t want to make life harder than it had to be. So we went our separate ways. I stayed away. But, I’ve never regretted anything more. Life had a shadow over it for years.” Her voice has dropped to a just above a hush.
“And then you came sailing back to town,” my mother singsongs her derision.
Gigi sighs impatiently. It’s the first sign of impatience or annoyance she’s shown all evening. “Yes. I came back. For a love I’d held so fleetingly I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it. For a love, it turns out, that was worth all the trouble.”
My mother scoffs and actually rolls her eyes.
“Remi,” Gigi turns her urgent, pleading hazel gaze toward me, “I know your life was disrupted in ways no apology will ever make up for. But one day, when love calls you, you will understand why we did what we did. What we had was so rare. We knew it. Please try to understand.”
I watch her closely and process everything she just said. Her decisions proved disastrous for me. The revelations that are going to come to light here today will likely change the course of all our lives. The ripple effect of their decisions will probably continue to be felt.
But it wasn’t her fault that my father didn’t love my mother. Not her fault my mother loved my father in a way that wouldn’t allow her to move on.
I understand Gigi just fine. It’s the same kind of love and my refusal to be parted from mine again that brought me back.
She watches the thoughts move across my face, sees the moment I soften, and smiles.
“What utter garbage,” my mother shouts. Disgust narrows her eyes and curls
her lips. She stands up and walks toward Gigi. “You are selfish, entitled, and fragile.”
Her words are a sequence of poison-tipped arrows that she flings with breathtaking speed. Gigi flinches like she’s being pierced by them. My mother comes to stand directly in front of her. She glowers, her body is rigid and her hands are planted firmly on her hips.
“You think getting to fuck the man you love is more important than my children knowing their father?”
Gigi blanches, but recovers and rises to her feet. She’s a tall woman, my mother is not, and she uses her height to her advantage. She looks down her nose at my mother, her expression glacial.
“I do not think that. But clearly you do.”
It’s my mother’s turn to blanch. She takes a step back. Gigi presses on. She points a finger accusingly at my mother. “You are the one who decided that if he wasn’t sleeping next to you, that your children wouldn’t see him. You are the one who told them he was dead and threatened him with persecution if he didn’t go along with it. You are the one who is selfish, entitled and fragile,” she spits back at my mother.
My mother laughs. It’s loud, brash, and false. She spins around to face me. “Do you see why I was so dead set against Kal? She would have ruined your life. And thought somehow she was in the right. You would have ended up in a ditch somewhere and I wouldn’t have been there to save you.” Her eyes widen in horror as she realizes what she just said.
“Mom,” I call her name quietly. “What happened the day you tried to kill him?”
Regan gasps and looks at me with shocked eyes. I don’t know why. I told her I was going to ask.
“Stop saying that,” she says and her chin, for the first time I can ever remember, trembles.
I feel a pang of guilt but press on. I knew tonight was going to be uncomfortable for everyone. I didn’t exclude myself from that expectation. There’s no stopping this train. We’ll all leave here different people than we were when we arrived. But it’s time to end all of the secrets and lies that have held sway over our lives for so long. I cross my arms over my chest and look my mother squarely in her eyes. The exact same as mine and I drop my bomb.
“This is my house. Here, we tell the truth. When I first discovered the true circumstances of his leaving, you told me you and Pops had decided to tell us that because you were trying to spare us the knowledge that he left us. But why didn’t you tell me six months ago that you found him alive and took him to a hospital?”
Gigi’s moan is tortured, and she covers her mouth to muffle it.
My mother’s eyes widen in shock. But she recovers a
nd her mask of indifference is back.
“So, you know,” she says as if she’s the one who has to accept an ugly truth.
“Yes. Now I know for sure.”
“That’s unfortunate,” she says stiffly.
“You knew he was out there, and you never thought that maybe you should bring him home?” I ask incredulously.
“So he could go back to her?” she yells and points at Gigi.
I slam my fist down on the table with such force that everything on it rattles.
“What about his kids? She remarried, moved to Italy. She hasn’t lived here in almost thirty years. We were here. We needed him.”
Her eyes sweep across me and my siblings. “You were the most ungrateful children. You wanted him. Him. Who was not worthy of the title of your father. Who didn’t give enough of a shit about his children to stay with them.” She’s raging.
“You hate him. You kept him away. Tell us what you did to him. Did you try to kill him and get cold feet?”
“I saved him.” Her voice crackles with anger. “He was lying in that ditch and I dragged him out. Me.” She pounds her chest and turns her eyes, burning hot with accusation at Gigi.
“She sat in her house for days before she even went to look for him.”
“I didn’t… I looked for him,” Gigi yells back. I look at Hayes and he’s staring blankly at my mother.
“How did you know he was in that ditch?” I ask.
“Because she put him there,” Gigi shouts.
“I did not,” my mother hollers.
Gigi is undeterred. She stands, stalks across the room, her finger pointing angrily. “I’ve always known it. You hated him for leaving you. You think I didn’t know you were talking to him? You think I didn’t know he was still seeing you? I knew, but I also knew how desperate he was to keep contact with his children. You and that devil he called a father wouldn’t let him.”
My mother’s on her feet again, too. Her eyes blazing, the heat of her anger has dried her tears and the two women meet in the middle of the room.
We all watch in fascination as the two normally dignified, stoic women practically bump chests.
“You shut your ignorant, thieving mouth,” my mother seethes. “You don’t know anything. He loved me. Until you came to town with all of your bullshit about chasing your happiness and you stole him. I didn’t kill him. I should have though. Should have left his faithless ass to rot in that gutter. But I knew he was still alive and the colossal fool that I am, I still love him. So I saved him. And then, I tried to hide him. Because if the person who tried to kill him found out he was still alive, he’d try again. What did you do? Give up your baby, marry another man and then move to Italy.”
Gigi’s hand flies toward her, palm open.
My mother catches it.
“You don’t have the right,” she hisses. “I wish it had been you in that ditch. You deserved to be there.” She drops Gigi’s wrist like it’s filth she’s holding and marches back to her chair.
Gigi stands there, her shoulders drooping, her eyes forlorn. Hayes walks over, drops a kiss on her forehead, shoots me a warning look that says “move this shit show along,” and takes her back to her seat.
“So, what happened?” I ask my mother.
“I got him a place to live. But he left and I had no idea where he’d gone. I hired a man a few years ago and found him. The guy told me he got a dog and named it Gigi.”
Gigi gasps.
“Even when he can’t remember his own children. He remembered her,” she spits at Gigi.
Then turns accusing eyes at me and my siblings. “And even though he left you, you still love him more than you’ll ever love me. Me, who has given everything to keep you safe. I wanted to tell you the truth so many times. So you would know who he really was… is.”
She sighs heavily, covers her face with her hands and bends at the waist. I watch her and wait. I want to comfort her. But I know she won’t want it.
“I found him in that ditch by chance. We were supposed to meet that day, and he was late. Lucas was never late. I went as close to their house as I dared and parked and walked around a little. That ditch runs behind their house. I found him about half a mile away. And took him to the hospital.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Gigi asks.
My mother scoffs. “I wasn’t sure you hadn’t put him there. I thought maybe he’d reverted to type and was cheating on you, too,” she says snidely. The blood drains from her face.
“He would never—”
“Wait. What did you tell Pops?” I interrupt Gigi and turn to my mother.
And for the first time since this conversation started, I see real, unadulterated panic in her eyes.
“He was away when I got back from San Antonio. I went to his office to look for something and found your father’s rings. The rings that had been on the fingers that had been cut off his hand.”
The world stops spinning. I stare down at my hand in horror, at the ring on my own finger. The one my grandfather gave me right before he died. I tug it off and drop it on to the table.
I look between her and it. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” she says so simply, with so much defeat. “I logged into his computer. He didn’t even have it password protected. He couldn’t imagine that anyone would dare look through his things. I found the emails—he never even bothered to delete them between him and the man he hired to kill your father. He was to bring those rings back as proof.”
“Why would he do that? That makes no sense. He was his heir.”
“No, Remi. He hated Lucas. He was an utter disappointment.”
“So he disinherited him. Why in the world would he want to kill him?”
“Because Lucas wasn’t going to go quietly into the night. Not without what was his.”
“He wanted money?” I ask incredulously.
“He wanted you. All three of you,” she says slowly, her gaze sweeping over me and my siblings.
“He did?” This question comes from Tyson.
She turns to look at him. She just nods.
My heart thuds.
Once.
Twice.
Then it starts sprinting at a breakneck pace.
I didn’t realize how badly I’d needed to hear those words until she said them. Since I discovered he’d left, I’ve woken up every day wondering how my father could walk away from his children. It’s been the thing that has kept me from being able to feel any joy in finding him.
“Your grandfather was not going to let him have you. He had poured all of his hopes into you, Remi. So, I tried to mold you in his image because I didn’t want him to think you were a disappointment, too. I’d seen what he’d done to his other disappointment.”
“You’re saying he would have killed me?”
“I don’t know. But I didn’t want to take the chance. And you are so much like Lucas. This hard exterior you’ve developed to protect your soft inside. I knew you’d fuck up and then, he’d decide to clear the way for Tyson.” She sounds sad, but not apologetic at all.
“Good God.” I run a hand over my face and try to let that settle.
“I never told him what I found. Keep your enemies close—as I’ve always told you. In this case, I moved in with mine. But it was what I thought was best,” she says.
“Best? For us to live with the man who tried to kill your husband?”
“I always did what I thought was best.” She repeats.
“And you just let him get away with the attempted murder of his son?” Regan shouts and stands up. Tyson is glaring at her, his dark eyes full of malice.
“Yes.” She nods as if to reaffirm how obvious the answer should be. “Everything has a price. For your lives, nothing was too much to pay. And he was good to you. You’ve achieved so much. All of you.”
“We’re all miserable,” Tyson says quietly. “We are all miserable and our lives are a fucking lie. But look how much we achieved.” He stands up on th
at last word, his voice gets louder. “Why are none of you losing your shit?” he asks the room collectively. His eyes wide with disbelief.
“I lost my shit, Tyson. I’ve had six months to process it,” I remind him, trying to keep my voice gentle.
“But you just found out, right now that Pops tried to kill our father. His son. Pops.” He shakes his hands like he’s trying to rearrange the air around us. Create a whole new reality.
“Tyson—” Regan tries to calm him but he cuts her off flinging an arm in her direction.
“And she’s been calm about everything. You’ve had months to let it all sink in, but she found out when I did. And she’s sitting there like she’s watching a fucking play.”
“Who says I’m not losing my shit?” she asks, her voice rich with her grievance at his statement. She stands up and faces him. “Just because I’m not screaming like the rest of you?” She flings her arms wide. “I’m thinking about my own fucking children, Tyson. Something you don’t have to consider.”
I step in between them. “Hey. We should not be fighting with each other,” I say gently and try to appear calm, although it is the very last thing I am.
“Guess what, Legend, you are the only people I want to fight with right now. I’m done with this little circus you put on tonight.” His gaze sweeps the room once before he turns and stalks out. I don’t try to stop him. I know how he’s feeling and I know it will take time to process and come to terms with all of this.
Everything slows and I sit down heavily in the chair across from them. My mind is reeling and I just want this night to end, but I have a feeling the nightmare is just beginning. I stare between the two of them.
“I found him,” I add, and Gigi’s eyes fly open, her hand covering her mouth as she watches me wide-eyed.
“You didn’t,” my mother says.
“He’s here.” I watch her face.
“He’s dead,” she shouts almost as if she says it loudly enough it will be true.
“He’s not.” My mother’s face pales as she takes in my expression. She knows I’m serious. She drops down in her chair. Regan, takes her hand. She snatches it back.
Gigi breaks the stillness in the room and rises slowly from her seat. “Remington, you know where he is? Right now?”