Loving Graham

by Kenna Knight

  The taxi driver takes a left onto the street where Liam’s parents live, and suddenly, I am taking a trip down memory lane. The only good memories of my childhood happened on this street. I spent as much time as possible at Liam’s house without making myself unwelcome. Although, I don’t imagine I would ever have been unwelcome there.

  Liam’s parents are the best. They’re easygoing people who work hard to give their son what he needed to succeed in life, and they always knew how to make me laugh, something I didn’t do much of growing up.

  We turn into his driveway, and I look up at the familiar brick home. It’s exactly the same. I’ll bet it will smell like chocolate chip cookies and Downy dryer sheets when I walk through the door. To this day, those two smells make me feel safe.

  The taxi driver helps us with our bags, and we’re making our way up the driveway when the front door opens, and Edith and Charles Stone welcome us with open arms.

  Edith pulls me in and squeezes me so tight my ribs hurt, and then she kisses me on the forehead. Charles has been doing the same to Liam, and when they are done, they switch.

  “Come in out of the cold, hurry. I have lunch ready for you boys. How was your flight?”

  “It was good, Mom, you didn’t have to cook,” Liam says. He was always funny about his mom going overboard in her role as hostess. He felt she did too much. I loved it. My mom cooked, but it was a rotation of five dishes that my father liked. She wasn’t allowed to veer from that menu, and she only cooked dinner. Every other meal, I was on my own.

  Not Edith, she cooked breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks. She enjoyed it, filling our stomachs brought her joy.

  “It was no problem. It’s lunchtime, anyway, and we have to eat, so I just made a little more. Chicken salad sandwiches are on the platter on the table. I have green beans cooked in butter and minced garlic on the stove and a fruit tray in the fridge.”

  “That sounds great, Mrs. Stone, thank you so much,” I say shedding my coat and hanging it in the closet by the door. I toe off my boots, and for a moment I wish we could stay here with Liam’s parents instead of The Ritz in Toledo with Aunt Kitty.

  “You’re welcome, sweet boy, and call me Edith, you never used to call me Mrs. Stone.”

  “It’s been a long time, I’m sorry, Edith.”

  Liam takes my hand to lead me to the kitchen, and it feels weird having him hold my hand here. The last time I was here, we were just friends—two kids who lived in the same town and went to the same school. Now we’re in a relationship—we live together, sleep together, and we make life decisions together.

  It’s like the twilight zone, same life, same people, a different dimension—weird.

  We sit and eat. I breathe in the faint smell of chocolate chip cookies and Downey, and two hours later sitting on the Stone’s couch, I almost forget why we are here.

  “We have to get going, Ma. Noah’s aunt is expecting us, and they have an appointment with the lawyer in a few hours. Thank you for lunch, it was great. I miss your cooking.” Liam hugs his mom and turns to his dad. “We’ll see you tomorrow after we get done at the funeral home. I miss you, pops.” They hug goodbye, and Liam goes to get our coats from the closet.

  “Good to see you, too, son,” Charles calls after him and turns to me. “And Noah, it was good to see you again, too. Lord knows it’s been too long.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Stone, yeah, it has.”

  Edith hugs me at the door and whispers in my ear, “I’m so glad you found each other. I always knew you were meant to be.” When she pulls away, she’s smiling, and she has tears in her eyes. I love this woman, no wonder Liam’s such a great man.

  Mr. Stone hugs me, and it lasts a little longer than it should. When he’s done, he pats me on the back a couple of times. In guy talk, those pats mean pretty much what Edith just said with words. I love him, too.

  We arrive at the lawyer’s office thirty minutes later. A receptionist takes our names and tells us a Mr. Morgan will be right with us. Kitty’s waiting in the lobby, too, and when she sees us, she crosses the room to join us. She looks tired, more tired than I’ve ever seen her, and her eyes are red rimmed. This is hard for her, harder than it is for me, and that’s sad since she was my mother. It didn’t have to be this way if Mom had just stood up for me.

  “Hi, oh my boys, I’ve missed you so much.” She begins by hugging us both and branches off after a moment to wrap her arms around just me. When she pulls away, she’s crying. I brush the tears off of her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Kitty.”

  “I know things didn’t end well, but I’m sorry for your loss, too. She was your mother, and no matter what you think, I know she loved you.”

  I’m not so sure about that, so I nod and check my watch. “When does this meeting start again? I really want to go to the hotel and take a nap.”

  “Mr. Morgan should be out any minute.” And no sooner do the words leave her mouth, he opens his office door.

  “Hello, Mr. Miller, Ms. Dubois and…” He pauses when he sees Liam, and I introduce him. “This is my boyfriend, Liam Stone. He will be joining us today.” It’s the first time I’ve used the term ‘boyfriend’ out loud. It’s scary at first, but when Mr. Morgan shakes Liam’s hand and shows us into his office without a second thought, I relax. I’ve got enough on my plate today, I don’t need to deal with being judged.

  “Have a seat,” Mr. Morgan says pulling an extra chair in front of his desk. There are already three, and I wonder if someone else will be coming. “Your father was invited to this meeting as well. I haven’t heard back from him, however, so I’m not sure if he will join us,” Morgan says, and I clench my teeth so hard I’m afraid they’ll break if I don’t try to relax. “You didn’t tell me he was going to be here,” I whisper to Kitty.

  “I didn’t know,” she whispers back and sits down. “Mr. Morgan, if he does show up, I think you should know he might not be in the best state of mind. He’s been known to drink when he’s upset.”

  “Not to worry, Ms. Dubois. After looking over Anastasia’s will, I made arrangements for security to be nearby. The way she left things was a bit… unorthodox. When I see things like this, I try to plan ahead.” He gives her a reassuring smile and gets right down to business.

  “Mr. Miller, your mother left precise instructions for you. First of all, she left a letter for you to open when you are alone.” He hands me an envelope with my name written in my mother’s handwriting. “I’ll just get to the point with the rest, Mr. Miller.”

  “Please, call me Noah.”

  “Of course. Noah, your mother left you several stocks, a trust fund, and her half of all joint assets she had with your father. This means that you have fifty percent ownership of your parents’ home and a boat.”

  Just when I was starting to think this was going to go smoothly, there is a loud crash out in the lobby, and a man’s voice yelling—Dad.

  The office door is thrown open, and my father stands before us panting like he just climbed twenty flights of stairs and looking like he just rolled out of bed. His hair is sticking up all over, he hasn’t shaved in days, his skin is sallow, his eyes sunken, and good Lord, I can smell him from across the room—booze and BO—nice.

  He glares first at Kitty, and then he settles his eyes on me. “You, you’re the reason she’s dead you filthy pervert. She wouldn’t shut up about you. I told her just to forget you existed, but she wouldn’t, and then she started having heart problems and…” Mr. Morgan cuts his slurring tirade short when he interrupts.

  “Mr. Miller, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. It’s obvious you’ve been drinking, and none of the legal documents can be signed when you’re altered.”

  “I’m not altered,” he slurs the word ‘altered’ so badly it’s nearly unrecognizable. Then he grabs hold of the doorknob with one hand and the other on the doorjamb for support. He’s beyond drunk—he’s hammered.

  Mr. Morgan presses a button on his phone and asks someone named Sarah to please call secu
rity to have a gentleman removed from his office. A gentleman, ha, I don’t know if anyone has ever called my dad a gentleman before, and I’m sure nobody ever will.

  Dad hears him make the call and lunges for me. Liam is up in a shot standing between my dad and me with his arms out to protect me. Dad stumbles and falls without the support of the door. He doesn’t even look up, he stays down on all fours and starts yelling over and over, “You killed her, you killed her, you killed her!”

  Security arrives and hauls my dad away, and we are left stunned and in shock.

  “Are you okay?” Liam asks turning around and running his hands up and down my arms looking for injuries that aren’t there.

  “He didn’t even get near me, you made sure of that,” I say taking hold of his face on both sides. “Thank you.”

  He pulls me into an embrace, and when he releases me, I look at Kitty who is still staring at the door where my father was taken away.

  “He’s crazy. Is that what you grew up with? Did he treat you like that, Noah?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey. I knew he drank and that he was unkind, but that man is a downright abusive alcoholic.”

  “He is, but he’s gone, and as soon as this is all over, we will never have to see him again.”

  “Is everyone ready to go on? We can take a break if you need to, we have time,” Mr. Morgan says, and Liam and Kitty look to me for an answer.

  “No, I want to get this over with.” We sit back down, and Mr. Morgan closes his office door. “I do have a question, though. Will they throw him out of the building, or will he be arrested?” I ask.

  “Those were company security officers, but they are obligated to call the police in such situations. I imagine he will be taken to jail if he continues to behave as he was up here.”

  “Okay.” I don’t know why I wanted to know, morbid curiosity I guess. As long as he’s gone, I’m good.

  “So, as I was saying,”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Morgan, but I don’t want anything that is tied to my father. He can have the house and the boat. The less I have to deal with him, the better.”

  “I understand. I will have some documents drawn up so you can sign away your rights to the house and boat. Will you still be in town tomorrow?”

  “Yes, we have to finish making funeral arrangements, so we will be here for a couple of days.”

  “Good. Well then, there is only one thing left to discuss. Anastasia Dubois Miller bought a home in Colorado five years ago. She wanted it left to you, Kitty. It’s a mountain chalet, and it’s worth quite a lot.”

  “Where did Mom get money to buy a mountain chalet? And why?” I ask no one in particular.

  “When our parents died, they were very wealthy. We inherited everything equally. She must have bought the house with that money. She didn’t want your father to know about the money for obvious reasons. I suppose this was her way of investing the money and keeping it safe from your father.”

  “The house has been used as a rental for vacationers. She earned a lot of money with it. That money was saved in a trust fund she left you, Noah. It totals two hundred thousand dollars.”

  “What?” I cannot be hearing this guy right. I grew up in a middle-class family. We had enough to live comfortably but nothing extra. Mom and Dad always drove used cars and took camping vacations because they were cheaper than flying somewhere. How could she have saved up that kind of money?

  I look at Liam whose eyes are wide with surprise. I can’t imagine what I must look like right now.

  “That’s wonderful, sweetheart, she loved you, see I told you. She was planning for your future, saving all that money in a trust fund for you, not spending a dime of it on herself,” Kitty says. She leans over and rubs circles on my back.

  “I, uh, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect any of this.”

  “I’m glad it was a good surprise. You can’t believe how many people come into my office and leave with a pile of debt left by loved ones,” Mr. Morgan says. He closes the folder he has on the desk in front of him and looks at me. “That’s it, I’ll have the final paperwork sent to your hotel, and we should have this all wrapped up by the end of the week. I’m sorry for your loss, please accept my condolences.” He stands and reaches out to shake our hands before we leave.

  Nobody says a word until we are outside. “Back to the hotel?” Kitty asks.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I say but change my mind when a taxi pulls up to the curb. “You two head back, I have to do something. I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

  “Where are you going?” Liam asks with concern.

  “Home, to the house. Dad won’t be there if he’s in jail, and I want to get something before he gets back.”

  “You shouldn’t go there alone just in case he didn’t go to jail. They might have just thrown him out,” Liam says.

  “I have to.”

  “Then I’m going with you.”

  “You boys go on ahead. I’ll order us something to eat from room service, and when you get there, we can eat.”

  Liam looks at me with his eyebrows raised waiting for me to agree. “Okay, we won’t be far behind you. See you soon,” I say.

  I kiss her, and we get into separate taxis.

  “What are you going to get?” Liam asks the second the car door closed.

  “I want to see the house one more time. I’m never coming back here again. And my mom kept a secret box with her journal and some pictures in the basement. I found it once when Dad was drunk, and I was hiding from him. I never went back and read the journal. I wanted to respect her privacy. But now that she’s gone, I want it. I want to see what else she was hiding from my father.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Liam – It’s A Girl!

  It’s amazing how unchanged Noah’s childhood home is. It’s also kind of sad. There have been no updates, no repairs, and minimal lawn care. His father’s car isn’t in the driveway, so I ask the driver to wait, and we climb the steps to the front door.

  “How are you going to get in?”

  Noah bends over and tips a flower pot up and slides out a dirty key.

  He holds it up for me to see before unlocking the door. “They still had it hidden it in the same place even after all these years,” he says.

  Inside, it’s like taking a step back in time. Nothing has changed. They have the same dingy green couch in the living room with a giant television that has to be twenty years old. It even smells the same like stale beer and dryer sheets.

  “Wow, they didn’t even rearrange the furniture,” I say, and Noah snorts.

  “Dad was too lazy or too drunk to help with that, and no way could Mom do it alone. I’m going downstairs, be right back.”

  “Okay, the meter’s running on the taxi, though, don’t take too long.”

  “I’m rich now, remember? Maybe we could hire our own driver?” he teases, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Sounds good to me, I hate the train.”

  He smiles and turns the corner into the kitchen where the basement door is. I walk down the short hallway to where Noah’s old room used to be. When I open the door, I’m not surprised to see his father has turned it into a den of sorts, although I don’t know what he would need with a den when the living room is ten steps away.

  I close the door and meet Noah in the living room where he is holding a small locked box with an inch of dust piled on top of it. “Ready to go?” I ask hoping he will forget about seeing his old bedroom.

  “Yeah, I want to look at my bedroom real quick, and then we can go.”

  “Noah, it’s not the same, you sure?”

  He nods, and we walk back down the hall where I notice that the family photographs that used to line the walls when we were kids are all gone. There’s nothing there now, and no one even painted so you can see the outline of where every picture used to hang.

  He is a monster. He erased his son from his life, put away any tr
ace of him, and made his wife do the same. But she didn’t, she kept his memory alive, and she never stopped loving him.

  “A den, figures, what an asshole,” Noah says stepping into his old room and making his way to the closet with purpose. He sets the letter from his mother and the box from the basement on a desk and opens the door switching on the light. “Can you give me a boost?” he asks.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I used to hide my portfolios in the crawl space over the house so dad wouldn’t tear them up. I’m crossing my fingers they’re still there.”

  I close the distance between us and lace my fingers together for him to step on. He turns on the flashlight on his phone to help him see. “They’re here, he never found them,” he says excitedly.

  “Can you get them down?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” He struggles to arrange the portfolios in his arms, and I slowly lower him to the ground. Nine years of dust causes us to cough, but Noah is smiling ear to ear when it settles.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Mom must have found them. She put all of my school pictures and family photo albums up there with them. She knew I’d be back.” He glances down at the box on top of at least ten huge portfolios.

  “That’s awesome, but I’m starting to get a little creeped out being in here, can we go?”

  “Yeah, I got everything I came for.”

  We collect his things and leave the house exactly the way we found it which is exactly how it’s been forever.

  Back at the hotel, I’m almost giddy to see our ultra-comfy looking bed and a big soaker tub in the bathroom. Kitty went all out getting the presidential suite, total luxury all the way. I’ve been curious about her wealth since I met her, and now I know where it came from—her half of the inheritance her parents left them.

  “Come and eat, you two took forever, now your lunch is getting cold,” she says.

  “I’m not that hungry anyway, Kitty, but thank you,” I say. Noah wanders over to the food and picks at it eating a couple of strawberries and half a sandwich.

  “Did you find what you were looking for, honey?” Kitty asks Noah.