by Paige North
I’m sure he wants to tell me what a huge fucking disappointment I am to him, how both his daughter and I made his last months of life a living hell, and how I should choke and hang in my own web of lies.
You face him, that’s what you do.
If that’s how he wants to spend his last moments, telling me I’m an asshole, that’s his right. I should let him have his moment. My only other choice is to be a coward and hope he doesn’t hire someone to off me after he’s gone.
Leaving the cabin that’s been my hideaway for the last month, I drive toward the city. I hate this car, hate the money that paid for it, and hate everything that has to do with my success. It’s all built on bullshit and lies. None of it matters. The only things that mattered to me in this world are now gone.
Pulling into the private hospital only the city’s richest can afford is like driving into the Trump Tower meets St. Patrick’s Cathedral. St. Anne’s rises like a beacon for the heavily insured and walking into it feels like I’ve entered The Emerald City. I find my way to Suite 45 and find several people I know standing around outside the room talking quietly. Some are execs from his company, some are family members, cousins of Evie’s, many of whom were at the party the other night. They all quiet down when they see me.
I’m a dick, the man who lied to everyone.
I see it in their hateful stares, hear it in their scoffs. Fuck them. They don’t know anything about my life. They don’t know what I had to go through, the dilemma I was faced with when Evie asked me to bail her out. And until they’ve walked miles in my shoes, they can’t say shit. I shift past them, keeping my eyes on one person—Nettie. She stands outside the door, hands clasped, eyes red. Will she really miss the old man? Well, why not. When you spend enough time with someone…
“Is anyone in there?” I ask her.
“The nurse is. His liver’s shutting down. They’re giving him morphine now.”
“Should I wait in line then?” I gesture to the crowd behind him.
“They’ve all said their goodbyes. You’ll want to go in as soon as the nurse is done.”
“Okay.” I stand with my back against the wall, wondering what he’ll have to say to me, what I should say to him.
I don’t think I can tell him I regret what I did.
If Evie were alive to ask me to help her again, I would do it again without a doubt in my mind. If her dishonest relationship with her father is a byproduct of the judgment he was sure to pass on her for having a child out of wedlock, then that’s on him. Too late to do anything about it now.
“Nice move,” one of the execs mutters. I look up at him and see he’s talking to me. “You thought you’d be slick, huh?”
I would say “suck my dick,” but Nettie’s here, and I’m a gentleman. “I’m sorry, do you pay my bills?” I ask.
“No, but you tried to get Roper to. Asshole.”
He’s implying I married Evie and claimed paternity just to get Roper’s inheritance. That isn’t, and never was, my intention, but clearly that’s what everyone thinks of me now. Fuck him. Fuck everybody. Except Nettie. Nettie’s a saint.
I don’t honor him with a reply and at that moment, the nurse walks out of the room anyway. “Hardwin?” She looks around.
Hands shoved in my pockets, I tell her, “That’s me,” and walk into the room as she holds the door open for me. The door closes behind me. The suite is furnished a lot like a penthouse at The Plaza Hotel with all the finest amenities, which is silly if you think about it, since this is hospice. In the middle of the bed is Bert Roper, frail, wrinkled, and dying.
Oxygen feeds his nostrils, and a machine by his bed wheezes while another one beeps and another one ticks. There’s a bag under the bed collecting what’s in his bladder, I assume, and this brings me too close to memories I’d packed and stored away from my mother’s last days battling breast cancer.
The old man, eyes closed, shifts slightly when I touch the bed to alert him to my presence. “Sir, you wanted to see me? It’s Kase.”
His eyelids flutter as if attempting to open, but they remain closed. Here comes the part when I get reamed by the old dinosaur. “Kase.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes.” The window offers a nicer view than death, so I accept it. “Mr. Roper, I can’t imagine what you must think of me, but I just wanted to say…I loved your daughter. And when she said she needed my help, I didn’t hesitate. I’m sorry if that goes against your own personal beliefs, but I tried to honor her and honor your grandson. I would do it again.”
“Listen…” His hand flips up and lands on the bed again. “I had…Nettie…” He takes wheezing breaths in between words. “Look through Evie’s things. We found it, Kase.”
“Found what, sir?”
“The truth. Journals she’d written after Raymond left her high and dry.”
Journals? Yeah, I remember Evie always carrying a journal or two in her bag. I assumed they were just for jotting down ideas for the business, not for writing personal thoughts. “What did they say?” I ask.
“Raymond bailed like the little rat that he is,” he says. “And she was afraid to tell me about the pregnancy with a father who didn’t want to have anything to do with the baby. Afraid I would hate her for it.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“It’s alright. My fault for being too strict with her growing up,” he wheezes, coughs, cringes in pain, then breathes again. “You did the right thing, Kase. I don’t judge you.”
His words send me into a tailspin of emotion, inside my chest and head. On the outside, I bite my bottom lip and hold it together.
“I just wanted you to know that I knew. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for everything you went through with your mother, and then my daughter…raising Liam on your own…”
I didn’t raise him on my own. I had Alana to help me, and there will never be an amount of money to compensate for that help. If I have to, I’ll take care of her financially for years to come as a thank you, if she would accept it. But I know she won’t. Alana’s her own woman.
“Like I said, I would do it again, sir.”
“I’ve done everything I can to make things right,” Roper stutters then coughs. I feel like maybe he shouldn’t be using his energy to tell me any of this.
“Sir, I don’t want anything from you. I appreciate your thanks, but the only thing I could ever want from this fiasco is my son back.” Liam and someone else…Alana. I denied her once before in front of Roper, but I won’t do it again. My feelings for her need to be known. She doesn’t work for me anymore, so there’s no reason to hide it. “And his nanny. I loved your daughter as my friend, but Alana…”
“Is your woman,” Roper finishes for me. “Son, I’ve been around. I know adoration when I see it. I can’t do anything about Liam, unfortunately. He’s Raymond’s biological son, but the girl…go after her.”
I shake my head. “I can’t. She’s gone.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“Sir?”
“She’s not gone. She’s somewhere waiting for you to tell her. So go tell her.”
I have nothing to say. Like it’s so simple? Like she won’t hate me for leaving her, for taking Liam away, for being a fool who’s too scared to love again. “It’s too painful, sir. I lost my mother then my best friend, even my little boy.” My throat closes as the sobs form. “I couldn’t…”
“Nonsense,” he wheezes and squeezes his fist. “Life’s too short to worry about pain. Pain, so what?” He scoffs. “Pain is tolerable, but love is irreplaceable. The joy you feel cancels out the pain and takes you beyond…” The way he shakes his head and seems to disappear into his memory makes me wonder if he ever had a woman he loved and lost besides Evie’s mother, Greta, who died when Evie was still in high school. One of the reasons we clicked so easily, having both lost our moms early on.
“Stop wasting your time,” Roper mutters then enters a coughing fit so profound, blood tinges his lips. I reach f
or a tissue and press it to his mouth then toss it into the trash by his bedside. “Stop wasting your time,” he repeats.
Not once does he open his eyes this whole time, but now he pries one open to look at me. Reaching out his hand, he waits for mine. I hesitate to give it to him, because I’ve been here before handing my mother my hand, but this time, something comforts me. Death is inevitable but some of us never get the chance to say goodbye. At least I get to say it with Mr. Roper.
I take his frail hand in mine, and he squeezes.
I have to get out of here before I lose it in front of all those schmucks outside. “Take care, Kase,” Roper says.
“You, too,” I reply, and he smiles. “Say hi to Evie for me. Tell her I love her.” And with that, I let go of the old man’s hand and head for the door.
The same nurse as before comes back in, checks something on the machine, then gestures for the family to come inside and surround Roper’s bed. This is my cue to leave. I’m not family, I’m not a friend. Fuck, I’m not even an employee of his. But just as I’m almost out the door, someone grabs my hand.
Nettie.
With one look and a tilt of her head, I know she would beg to differ. She wants me inside around Roper’s bed with the rest of them. I’m his son-in-law and the man who cared for Evie the most, even if we were only friends. I belong there, her look tells me, and I better get inside for the group farewell, or I’m going to get it.
“Yes, ma’am,” I whisper and follow her inside.
A week later, I’m sitting in a lawyer’s office overlooking the Metropolitan Museum. Spring is finally here, all the snow has melted, and small tufts of green are starting to sprout all over the lawn. It’s almost Liam’s first birthday. I’ll never forget it. Evie was a trooper and delivered him without any epidural or meds. I told her there wasn’t any reason to be prideful, she could ask for all the medication she needed, but I’ll never forget what she said—the pain felt good, it felt right. It wasn’t the pain of loss or heartbreak like she’d felt her whole pregnancy after Raymond had left her.
It was the pain of joy.
I can’t help but connect this with what Roper told me a week ago today. That pain is a part of life and we shouldn’t stop from living just because of it. For a man whose daughter felt she couldn’t tell him the truth, who we all thought would be judgmental, Roper had some great words of wisdom. Makes me sad that Evie didn’t give her father a chance. That she judged him just as easily as she thought she’d be judged. Like father, like daughter, but none of it matters now.
They’re both gone.
“Mr. Hardwin, I’ll begin with the reading of the Will and Testament of Albert C. Roper and if you have any questions for me, please wait ‘til the end.” He begins reading all the legalese opening the document and comes to the part that mentions me. Course, I knew I’d be here somewhere, or else I wouldn’t have been invited but I didn’t expect what the attorney read aloud. “I nominate and appoint Nettie Curtis Bowman of New York City as Assistant Personal Representative of my estate, and I request that Kase Hardwin of New York City be appointed Personal Representative. If my Personal Representative fails or ceases to service, then I nominate the Assistant Personal Representative to serve.”
The lawyer cranes his neck, as people around the room mutter and grunt their displeasure.
“In addition, I appoint Kase Hardwin as the Chief Executive Officer and owner of Newfound Ad Agency…” And I don’t know what is read after that, because my ears are ringing. I’ve been given the entire estate of Albert C. Roper along with his business, and every person in the room now hates me.
Ask me if I care.
But I’m worth billions and billions of dollars now, and while this should come as a happy surprise, I’ve never felt more empty in my life. I have no mother, no Evie, no Liam, no Bert Roper, no life, and no Alana, but I’ve got a bank account full of money.
I sign the papers I’m supposed to sign and shake the hands I’m supposed to shake, and at some point today I’ll have to call Nettie and give her the news. She’s out of town and never expected to be invited into this meeting, but all this will change her life. I will make sure that Nettie Bowman, Mr. Roper’s caretaker, a woman everyone thought was “just service,” “just the hired help,” gets her fair share of his inheritance.
Liam gets a share too, but I’m his fiduciary, so it’ll be a while before he can access it.
When I arrive home, it’s warmed up, a beautiful day, but inside the house, it’s cold and empty. Just me and my mansion. Everyone thinks money is the key to happiness, but I have nothing to fill my soul. On the floor, poking out behind the rocking chair in the living room, is Liam’s blue bunny.
I pick it up and stare at it, remembering the little boy I lost, the mother who birthed him, the woman who cared for him, and the grandfather who loved him. Where is he now? Somewhere wondering where his real family is and why we don’t come rescue him. I can’t, little buddy. It’s out of my hands. Squeezing my eyes shut, I finally allow myself to feel that pain and lose my shit completely.
Alana
Commuting to Thames Group in Midtown is everything I ever dreamed about working in New York City. The train rides from Brooklyn, the walking past Rockefeller Center, the hustle and bustle to grab coffee before the lines get too long.
Plus, spring has sprung, and even though it’s rainy this morning, it’s warm, and I’m so ready for a change.
Turns out I didn’t need to buy the coffee, because Thames Group has their own little café when you first walk in. A gorgeous older woman, Mrs. VonUriel, introduces herself as my supervisor, and after showing me off to all the people in her department, tells me that the entire café, complete with every type of coffee under the sun and its own barista, is strictly for employees. After that, I’m shown to a work room with cubicles and told that after work today, there will be a happy hour down at Lindgren’s.
“If there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Welcome to Thames Group, Miss Frasier. I hope you’ll be very happy here.”
“Oh, I know I will,” I reply, giving her a big first-day grin, and the moment she leaves, I sit and settle in. Looking around, I touch my computer keyboard, my drawers, my empty space, ready to be filled with spreadsheets and highlighters. Mrs. VonUriel said she would email me some documents to fill out, but in the meantime, I slowly set up my cubicle.
Yeah, it’s a cubicle, a tiny compartment in the work force, but it’s my own space, and I don’t have to clean any poop or make any organic baby food according to specs outlined in a PowerPoint. My smile fades as I realize how sad that makes me. I’d actually gotten pretty good at making organic baby food and changing diapers is never fun, but the look on Liam’s face when I was done and lifting him was always priceless, a little “thank you for taking care of me, babababa.”
The first thing I do is send myself one of the hundred selfies I took with Liam and make it my desktop image. A smile immediately pops up on my face, but now I’m so nostalgic and yearning for him, I wish I could call him up and talk to him over the phone. Relax, Alana, you knew that nannying would be temporary. Yes, nannying would be temporary, but nobody ever tells you that you fall in love with the kids. Well, not the girls I talked to anyway. Seemed they were always complaining about the spoiled brat kids, but Liam wasn’t there yet.
And Liam wasn’t spoiled.
Liam was a baby who needed a mother, needed his father, and has ended up in the hands of a man who never wanted him to begin with. A tear slips from my eyes and rolls down my cheek, but I wipe it before I get any more emotional on my first day at work.
“Is that your baby?” Another older woman pauses at my cubicle with a mug in hand.
“Huh? Oh, no. Just a boy I used to take care of.” Just a boy I love and miss.
“Babysitting?”
“Nanny job.”
“Oh. Well, he’s super adorable. Look at those big blue eyes! My gosh!”
“I know.” I stare at Liam
’s gorgeous little face. Though he didn’t have Kase’s features, he could have easily passed for his son any day. Because of that handsome smile. “I miss him.”
“Reach out to the family,” the woman says. “Sometimes they’re totally fine with nannies coming back to see the kids again. In fact, it’s good for the kids, too.”
“Maybe I’ll do that.” I smile and hold out my hand. “I’m Alana Frasier.”
“Cassie Moran. From reporting.” She shakes my hand and smiles a lot. “Good luck on your first day. And watch out for the guys around here.” She looks around to make sure none of them are listening. “They all have the hots for you.”
The hots? Oh, she means they find me attractive. “Okay, I’ll watch out for them.” I smile awkwardly and shake my head. Are they wolves? Do they shoot you with a stun gun if they like you?
The day goes pretty much as expected—eating lunch alone, visiting the office café three too many times, and shuffling papers around so it looks like I’m doing something. I know there will be more to do soon, but the important thing is—I have a job. I should be grateful. It’s my dream job. I should be happy.
Still I can’t shake the feeling of loneliness. Nannying wasn’t perfect, Liam and Kase weren’t perfect, and we were always fighting or struggling in some way, but they felt like home to me. At Thames Group, I feel, at best, like a stranger in a strange land.
After work, I attend the happy hour knowing I’m going to feel awkward. All the guys that the woman told me about earlier seem to be there, all ranging from my age to about thirty. The older and probably married ones keep their eyeballs to themselves, but the younger ones all keep coming up to me and asking me how my first day was.
None of them are rude. None of them do I have to “watch out for.”
In fact, the worst one I had to “watch out for” was my previous boss, and as crazy ass-backwards as it sounds, I miss our dynamic. Some might call it dysfunctional, some would label it sexual harassment, but it wasn’t. It was entirely consensual and I miss it. These guys all seem like babies compared to Kase and after being with him, I know I could never date a younger guy (or one my age) ever again.