Her eyes flood with moisture and she shakes her head softly side to side, as if she can’t believe her eyes.
“Taylor,” she breathes out. “Taylor, I never thought I would see you again.” And the tears burst from her eyes as she wraps her arms around him. He stiffens as his stoic eyes manifest shock for a fraction of a second. My eyes search for his to gauge his response. She’s touching him, no, she’s more than touching him. It’s intimate; a true hug, not a friendly greeting, or a pat on the back. It’s a motherly hug, filled with joy and intimacy and love. I have never seen anyone hug him like that. I am the only one he allows to get so close. His body holds the stiffness for a second or so, his eyes reveal the slightest hint of panic. Only I would perceive that, because I have studied those eyes for so long, trying to understand what goes on behind them. And then, they soften, his posture relaxes as he exhales and he slowly raises his hands to my mother’s shoulder blades, gently reciprocating.
“Thank you, Marie. For saving me. For raising such a beautiful, strong daughter. For everything.”
***
“How are you?” mom asks, as she places Taylor’s coffee on the table just in front of him.
“I am well.” Taylor responds somewhat robotically.
“Of course. You’ve done so well. You’re all famous now.”
“I hope not,” Taylor says, deadpan.
Mom sighs. “God, this small talk seems so trivial. I don’t even know where to start. The last time I saw you, you were just a little boy and now you are a grown man. A man that has accomplished so much, who has moved so far from the world that he came from. I tried to keep up with you whenever I could, but it was difficult. There was no internet like we have now. But then, as you got older, I saw the news about your father and how you were going to take over his company. I couldn’t believe it.”
Taylor smiles politely. “I remember you. I just didn’t know who you were, I was too young. If I had known, I would have taken care of you and Shyla.”
My heart aches at his words.
“Taylor, I am not your responsibility. I made certain decisions and I have had to live with them. Unfortunately, so did Shyla. You and Shyla were innocents, and if there is anyone that has to live with regret, it’s me. I appreciate that you would have wanted to take care of us, but don’t for a second carry any guilt about that. Your father wanted the best for you, and part of that was leaving C.O.S behind. I understand that. Any parent would have done the same. All I ask is that you take care of Shyla now that you have her. She is all I have in this world.”
I rub my hand on Taylor’s back. I know this is a lot for him to discuss. I am usually the only person with whom he speaks of his softer feelings.
“Of course. Shyla means more to me than anyone in this world.”
“There is so much I want to tell you Taylor. So much you need to understand.” She runs her hands over her face and pushes her hair back as she exhales. It’s then I notice the thin streaks of grey that seem to have sprung up since the last time I saw her.
“Mom, before we get into all that, there’s something we have to tell you. It’s why we came so quickly.”
“Sure. Is everything okay?” she asks, her demeanor quickly shifting from wistful to alarmed.
“Yes. It’s great news, actually.”
Her eyes dart back to Taylor, then me. I pull my hand away from Taylor’s back and show her the ring. Despite the butterflies in my stomach threatening to escape in a very non-pleasant manner, a smile sneaks up on my face. “We’re getting married, mom.”
“I, uh…I can’t believe it,” she says, stunned. I am unable to gauge if it’s joy, apprehension, or just pure shock.
“Marie, I’m sorry I couldn’t be more traditional, the proposal was spontaneous on my part. But I want you to know, all I want is the best for Shyla. You asked me how I am, and the truth is I am well, but that’s because of your daughter.” Taylor takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself to push out some very difficult words. “The truth is, I haven’t always been okay. The things that have happened to me, no matter how much time has passed, they stayed with me. Just as I know they have stayed with you. I managed. But happiness, love, those things, they didn’t exist in my life until I found Shy again. I understand the insanity of us even finding each other might be a lot to take in, but she is everything to me.”
I watch Taylor as he appeals to my mother. Even though his words are directed to her, it is like he reciting a love letter to me. Jesus-H, do I love this man.
“Of course, of course. I am so happy for you!” my mother stands up and I mirror her as she hugs me. She clenches Taylor’s forearm and looks at him warmly. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to have you as family again. I considered you my nephew and Lyla felt the same way about Shyla. That’s why she made us go, she loved you both dearly.”
Taylor’s demeanor changes as soon as she utters those words about his mother. He retreats back into that shell he uses to protect himself from the pain of losing her. It’s so obvious even my mother sees it.
“Taylor there are things you need to know. They might be hard for you to hear. You may have made up your mind, but I would be doing Lyla’s memory and sacrifice a disservice if I didn’t tell you first.”
“Mom…” I interject. Memory. Sacrifice. Those words mean nothing to Taylor. She abandoned him, she started a new life. Taylor is far too polite to interrupt my mother, instead letting her proceed.
“Shyla, you need to hear this too because she put herself on the line so that all of us could live.”
I decide to let her say her piece before I tell her the recent discovery about Lyla. Maybe she knows things we don’t.
“Your mother was just a teenager when we found her. And you have to understand we didn’t think we were in a cult. It never starts out that way. We were lost and alone and Alan was older and kind and handsome. He made us feel special, he made us laugh. He fed us, clothed us, gave us a new family. We had fun for a while, and then things started to change. But it happened so slowly that when we realized how bad it had gotten, we felt trapped. These things don’t happen overnight. It took seven years before it got unbearable. And we were ashamed. We had no skills to start over. Our families were upset with us. And then there came a point when were truly scared. We sincerely thought he might kill us, or even worse, one of you if we tried to leave.”
Taylor’s eyes narrow, the muscles in his jaw form sinewy lines, his seated posture becomes more erect. I can sense his agitation, but he says nothing.
I battle with the urge to stop her, but she’s right, he needs to hear it.
“We were watched all the time. And it’s because your mother loved you so much that Alan was so aggressive. He was jealous of her love for you. It was sick. How could a man be jealous of a child? And then he was jealous of how close you were growing to Shyla.” She wipes her reddened eyes. “And he punished Lyla. The more she pulled away, the more he wanted her. He kept you away most of the day, putting you in that terrible schoolhouse or ‘the center’ as they liked to call it, and then he wouldn’t even let her hug you or kiss you. The beatings he gave her were becoming more and more severe. It got so out of control that that’s when we decided to escape. We thought he would kill us eventually, so risking being caught and killed didn’t seem like such a great risk anymore. A couple of others had managed to and we had to communicate in secret. It took months to plan.”
Taylor’s face is serious and I begin to wonder if any of this is sinking in.
“Taylor, she died for you. That is the ultimate sacrifice. Whatever you may have been told, or remember, she was under duress. We didn’t have free will. Her actions we monitored. She wasn’t allowed to be the mother to you that she wanted to be. She loved you more than anyone in the world.”
And then Taylor opens his mouth and from the look on his face, the blue fire in his eyes, I know he could no longer maintain his distant politeness.
“She loved me? She sacrificed?�
� Taylor leans forward and looks into my mother’s eyes. We’re family now, and Taylor won’t mince words if she isn’t going to. “No Marie, she didn’t want me, she moved on. If she loved me, she wouldn’t have left and started another family, raised other kids, gone to their graduations and soccer games and pretended like she was some suburban super mom. How convenient she could forget it all. That’s not sacrifice, that’s cowardice. She abandoned me and she abandoned you.”
Mom sits there silently, her mouth agape. Taylor’s eyes clear, as if his words had snuffed the fire on their own. Then he looks over to me with a remorseful expression, realizing he has just told my mother Lyla is alive. I shake my head at Taylor, feeling both compassion and disappointment from his revelation.
“Mom…” I don’t know what else to say. Taylor said it all.
“What do you mean moved on? Are you saying she’s alive or is this just speculation based on the fact that her body was never found?”
“No, we know she’s alive,” I reply, as Taylor sits back on the couch, crossing his ankle onto his knee and raking his hair back, letting out a stressed sigh.
“How?”
“I hired a P.I.”
“You,” she looked at both of us, “hired a P.I.?”
Taylor puts both of his hands up in the air as if to wash his hands of my investigation.
“No, he had no idea. I just wanted to learn more, I never expected she would be alive. He didn’t know I was doing it. I knew he wouldn’t have wanted me to.”
“How long have you known?”
“The P.I. told me he had strong suspicions before I ever knew of our personal link to her. But it was your postcards, they were from her after all.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“I have a file with pictures. She remarried, had two children. She lives under an alias. I don’t know what happened, and I am not saying she didn’t have her reasons, but Taylor is right. She didn’t die, she started over.”
“Have you told the police?”
“No. We aren’t interested in that case being back in the public eye and I am sure you would agree.”
Mom stands up and slowly paces around the the living room, letting out a lungful of air. “Have you reached out to her?”
“No, we haven’t. Taylor isn’t interested.”
“Why wouldn’t you be interested in seeing your mother, Taylor?”
“She isn’t interested in me. She’s known about me being around much longer than I have known she’s alive.”
Mom nods and stands in her spot for a few moments. Her hazel eyes shift around as she searches her thoughts. Then she abruptly sits back across from Taylor and leans towards him. “Taylor, you have to find her and speak to her. You deserve answers. She owes you and me answers. Even if you think you know why, you have a rare opportunity. So many people wish they could talk to and see people they have lost. People die and then they are gone forever. They never get to apologize or explain. I know you are a grown man, and lord knows you have accomplished a ton in your life, but I have been on this earth longer and believe me when I say, you do not let an opportunity like this pass. You do not go without finding the truth. One day, if you and Shyla have children, you will understand the love she has for you and then you will wonder more than ever, why you didn’t find out why she left.”
Taylor looks away in contemplation.
Mom looks down and shakes her head, thinking aloud. “How could she leave us like that? Did I miss something? She sent those postcards, but how could I have known? They just stopped after a while. I didn’t have the resources to go searching the country for her…I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it.”
“Taylor, I think mom’s right.”
“I know your opinion on the matter.”
“If you don’t, Taylor, I will,” my mother interjects. “I deserve answers too. But I promise you, you will regret it if you don’t.”
“I think I’m ready to head back to the hotel. We flew direct from Italy and I think we all could use some time to think and rest,” Taylor states.
“How long are you staying in town?” she asks with a twinge of desperation in her tone.
“We leave tomorrow night,” I reply.
“Taylor, I feel like an idiot. Telling you she died for you. I had no idea…and I am upset. I am hurt. I never thought she would just leave like that. But I knew her, and I believe there has to be more than what we know. And if there is a chance it all came from the right place, you need to know. Shyla may make you well, but she can’t make right for your mother. Only your mother can.” Taylor nods in silence. It is an acknowledgment, not a sign of agreement. “And Shyla, I wish you wouldn’t have let me ramble for so long,” she scolds with just a dab of humor.
“Mom, it’s hard to get a word in with you…I didn’t know how to break the news. You were so happy.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then. And I can’t tell you how happy I am that you have both found each other. Taylor, you are a good man. I see the way Shyla looks at you. I know my daughter, though she likes to pretend I don’t. And I have never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at you.”
“Thank you, Marie,” Taylor says simply.
***
The car ride is silent. I watch Taylor as he gazes out the window. What goes on in that head of his? There is so much he hides, but then hints of it pop out in small statements and phrases. It’s so quick I think I can grasp it and pull it, unravel the thread of thoughts. But before I can grab hold, it snaps back and I sit alone, wondering, if anyone can ever know all of Taylor.
“Taylor…” I place my hand on his thigh.
“Can we just not talk about it tonight? Can we be quiet for a while?” he asks. He’s genuinely pleading, without any snippiness.
“Sure,” I say, and I lean against his shoulder and he wraps an arm around me, still staring out the window in contemplation.
Chapter 18
I groggily sense Taylor’s side of bed is empty. 2:39am. Looking through the window sheers, I see Taylor on the balcony, his dark silhouette backed by a crescent moon. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, a gentle breeze lilts through the open balcony entrance, lifting the sheers and revealing a clear view of Taylor. He is leaning against the railing, shirtless, his long, sculpted muscles outlined by the shadows of the night.
I wrap my naked body in a bed sheet and quietly walk out to the balcony.
“Can I join you?” I ask.
Taylor nods without turning to face me.
“It’s nice out here. The breeze is delicious.”
I expect Taylor to stay in his head, to remain closed physically and emotionally as he so often does when he’s contemplating certain subjects. Instead, he reaches his arm around me and pulls me close.
“It is.”
“I’m sorry if today was too much or if my mom spoke out of line. I know she means well, but you know moms. You can be Mr. Holden, CEO of Holden Enterprises, and she still sees a kid she can deliver monologues to. ”
Taylor lets a thin smile creep onto his face. “Nothing to apologize for. She wasn’t out of line and she didn’t know about my mother being alive. It wasn’t like I expected that meeting her would be easy.”
“Want to tell me what’s on your mind? You being up like this means something won’t let you sleep.”
“I’m thinking about everything. About us, about you, about the future.” The ease with which the words roll out take me back for a second. Feelings and innermost thoughts usually have to be pried out almost painfully from Taylor, but he’s changed so much from the man I first met. A man who lived in terror of his feelings. A man who had so much rage, it attached to every other emotion like a parasite so that he thought, if he let himself feel anything else, the rage would come with it. He’s learning how to feel, that it’s okay to live in those feelings for a while.
“What about it all?”
“Maybe I have been wrong.”
“Wrong? You? Never.”
Taylor playfully sneers as me. He takes a seat on on chair and pulls my cocooned body onto his lap.
“Wrong about what?” I ask.
“About choosing not to meet Lyla.”
Taylor never ceases to surprise me. First, the proposal, then meeting my mother, now this.
“What’s changed your mind?”
“I thought I knew so many things. I thought I knew she was dead and before that, I thought I knew she didn’t care. I thought you were dead. All these things I thought I knew were wrong. And maybe, I am wrong about her. Maybe I’m right. But, like your mother said, I have an opportunity to finally know for sure. If I was looking from the outside in, if it was you, I would advise you to contact her. To get answers. And if she never loved you, or if she abandoned you, well then you’d be right and there would be no loss. And if you were wrong…Well, then, you learn the truth.”
“So are you saying you want to reach out to her?”
“Do I want to? No. Do I think I should is another question. I don’t need her. I don’t need to know her. I have done just fine thinking she was dead.”
“Have you?”
“You tell me? Is who I am not good enough?”
“No, Taylor. This isn’t about what I think of you. It’s about what I think is best for you. She’s finding her way back into our lives whether we want it or not. My mother won’t just move on like you. And there is a chance, albeit slim, that she had her reasons.”
“It won’t change anything.”
“It might. So much of your anger comes from the image you have of her.”
“And so much more of it comes from things that can never be undone.”
He’s right. Getting answers from his mother will be no magical solution. The things he has already endured can never be erased.
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