by Susan Fox
Eyes widened; they exchanged glances; questions formed on lips and went unspoken. Before any of them figured out how to respond, he went on. “Everything’s going to change. I’m really sorry about that. It’s going to mess up your lives, this stuff I’m going to tell you. But I have to say it. I have to do”—he swallowed hard again, thinking of telling his story to the police—“what I’m going to do. After you’ve heard me out, I hope you’ll understand why.” He fingered the pebble and took a deep breath. Stay even. “I hope you won’t hate me.”
Again, they exchanged shocked glances.
Forbes was the one to speak. “We won’t hate you, Son.”
Julian only hoped that proved true. He took a long swallow of tea, not registering the flavor, and then set the mug on the counter. Barbed-wire tension quivered through his nerves.
Staring out the window into the darkness beyond their heads, he said, “When I was eleven, Bart Jelinek raped me for the first time.”
Ignoring the gasps, not looking at their faces, he went on. When he’d told this story to Iris, he’d felt so raw that he’d relived parts of it, but now he’d had time to prepare himself, and he recited the facts more dispassionately. As he spoke, he heard stifled gasps, a sob. But he couldn’t look at their faces, because what he saw there might stop him—be it disgust, blame, or pity.
When he told them about running away from the island, he didn’t mention his plan to commit suicide. He said he’d gradually pulled himself together, gone to a support group. Guilt clogged his throat and he could barely keep talking. “A part of me knew I wasn’t the only kid, that he was doing it to other boys. And I let it happen. But now I can’t keep quiet any longer. He’s a pedophile and I have to try to stop him. I’m going to the police on Monday, but I wanted you to know first.” He squeezed his eyes shut.
And then, because he had to, he dared to look at their faces.
His dad looked like he’d been sucker punched. Sonia was blotting her eyes with a tissue. Luke was frowning. And Miranda stared at him with a fierce, angry expression.
She jumped to her feet like a spring that had been released, and rushed over to him. “The bastard. The utter bastard!” She clutched his forearm. “Julian, I am so, so sorry that happened to you.” Usually, her eyes were the soft shade of well-washed denim, but now they were a storm-cloud gray, the kind of storm that threatened lightning.
“You believe me,” he said. Even though they barely knew each other. He’d wondered about having her here tonight but had known Luke would only tell her afterward. Besides, she was already part of this family. For better or worse, tonight being the worse.
“You would never lie about something like that,” she said with certainty. “I never liked that man. I always thought there was something wrong with him.”
Sonia came to his side next, moving more slowly. She didn’t touch him, just stared at him with a sad, baffled, tear-stained expression. “I’m stunned. I never had the slightest idea. He’s always been . . . I mean, he used to be such a friend. Of my first husband’s and mine, and then after Hank died, he was there for Luke and me.” Her brown eyes widened and she swung around. “Luke! You went to his place, too. Did he—?” She broke off.
Luke still sat at the table, his fingers now gripping his temples. He stared across the room at them, but his eyes looked unfocused. “No, but . . .” He shook his head. “I know that man cave, the video games. Popcorn.” His focus sharpened and his raised eyebrows asked Julian a question.
“Yeah. Popcorn.” Oh crap, had that bastard abused Luke, too? “One bowl to share. Both of you dipping your fingers into it.”
Luke nodded.
“It was a way of touching you,” Julian said. “Seemingly innocent, the kind of thing you’d do with your dad. But he was testing, to see how you reacted.”
Another nod.
“Luke?” Miranda let go of Julian’s arm and went over to her fiancé, leaning down to hug him. “Tell me he didn’t.”
He shook his head. “No. But now I see it all in a different light. After Dad died, Jelinek said I needed an older man in my life, someone to talk to and hang out with. He said I was a special boy—” He broke off when a choked growl escaped Julian.
Staring at Julian, Luke said, “He told you that, too, didn’t he?” Not waiting for a response, he went on. “He said he’d always liked me.” He swallowed. “He saw how much I missed Dad, how lonely I was. He was ready to exploit that.” His troubled gaze was steady on Julian. “He said he wished he had a son like me. It seemed like he was trying to take Dad’s place. It pissed me off, so I shoved him away.”
“Thank God,” Sonia said from where she stood beside Julian.
Forbes was the only one who hadn’t said anything, the one whose opinion most mattered to Julian. His dad had been staring at Luke as he spoke, his expression saying it was all too much to comprehend.
Finally, he looked at Julian. He made a fist and slammed it down on the table, making the mugs and the plate of cookies jump and rattle. Then he pushed his chair back, the legs scraping across the floor. His crutches rested against the table, but he ignored them. In a lurching gait, he beelined toward Julian. “The fucking bastard. I’ll kill him.”
With both arms extended, he caught Julian in a bear hug. His momentum and unsteadiness on his feet would have toppled both of them if Julian hadn’t been braced against the counter. With his dad’s weight almost crushing him, Julian hugged him back.
They believed him. Every single one of them. Without question. It was more than he’d allowed himself to imagine. Grateful beyond words, he fought against the lump in his throat and managed to croak, “You’re a pacifist, Forbes.”
“Not when it comes to this. I’ll rip off his fucking balls.”
“I’ll hold him down while you do it,” Miranda said.
“I’ll help, dragon girl,” Luke said, referring to the vibrant tattoo on her left forearm.
“I am so very, very sorry,” Sonia said, her voice thick with tears. “It was because of me that he had the opportunity.”
“You didn’t know,” Julian said. “There’s no way you could have.”
His father dropped his arms and stepped back, losing his balance. Julian braced him and Luke rose to bring him the crutches. Forbes wedged them into his armpits. “Son, you should have told me. I’d have believed you.”
“Jelinek had me brainwashed. And you were . . . you and Sonia were in love and . . .” How could he say this without sounding as if he blamed them?
Luke said, “You were unavailable. Mom, Forbes, I know you didn’t intend to shut us out, but you were so wrapped up in each other that you weren’t there for Julian or me.”
Sonia let out a sob and buried her face in her hands. “You’re right. I’m so sorry.”
“Crap,” Forbes said.
“I had Candace,” Luke said, “and Viola and the vet clinic. But Julian . . .”
“I was in a new place, didn’t know anyone,” Julian agreed. “I was uprooted and unhappy and I never tried to fit in.”
“And I never helped,” Luke said grimly. “This is partly my fault, too.”
“This isn’t about placing blame,” Julian said. “If we’re gonna do that, it lies on me. I was vulnerable and he saw it. He manipulated and exploited me, and I let him do it.”
“You were eleven freaking years old!” Miranda said. “Look, people, something awful happened and there’s only one person who’s to blame. Okay?” She narrowed her eyes and glared at each of them in turn.
Sonia gave a shaky laugh. “Son, you did well when you chose this one.” She went to get a tissue from a box on the counter and blew her nose. “Let’s go sit in the front room and drink our tea and, well, I guess Julian will tell us how he plans to handle this, and how we can help.”
She came to stand in front of him and put her arms around him loosely, tentatively. “I know I’m not your mom and I was a pretty bad stepmom, so I have no right to be proud of you. But I am.”
A few minutes later, they had regrouped in the front room with its comfy, well-worn furniture. Forbes and Sonia were on the couch, and Luke on an overstuffed chair with Miranda perched on its arm. Julian took the matching chair, sitting on the edge rather than sinking into it.
Forbes said, “When you ran away, I was scared and hurt. Now I know you did it because you were scared and hurt. I wish I’d been there for you to talk to.”
“Me too. I should have tried harder. I was too messed up to think straight.”
“You didn’t even let your dad know you were alive,” Sonia said softly. “Why not, Julian? Were you so very mad at him?”
He shook his head. “I was just too messed up.”
“So messed up,” his father said, “that even when you’d escaped Jelinek, you still couldn’t contact me?”
“Oh hell, I don’t know what to say.”
“You’ve kept enough secrets,” Miranda said. “Can’t you see, whatever you’re hiding, no one here’s going to judge you for it?”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Just tell the story, Son,” Forbes said heavily. “Don’t worry about us and our feelings. We want to know all of it.”
Julian stared at his father, sitting on the couch with his good arm around his wife. Despite the faded tie-dye T-shirt and scraggly ponytail, his old man had an air of dignity. His blue eyes, an older version of Julian’s own, telegraphed love and sincerity. Deciding to respect his dad by doing as he’d asked, Julian said, “I wanted to disappear. Become an anonymous street kid. And then I was going to kill myself.”
Sonia gasped, Forbes gulped, and Luke said, “Jesus, Julian.” Only Miranda was silent.
He told them the same thing he’d shared with Iris, about trying to figure out how to do it. How the old lady stopped to talk to him, and her words saved his life. Sonia cried again, and there were tears in his father’s eyes. “That’s the song I got tattooed on my arm,” Julian finished.
Miranda rose and came over. Dropping to her knees beside him, she rolled up her left shirtsleeve and then peeled up the right sleeve of his sweatshirt to reveal his tattoo. She placed her forearm next to his, the fire-breathing dragon and the bars of lifesaving music. “It’s about control, isn’t it?” she said.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Not the tattoos. They’re just the symbols. But what saves you, it’s control. When you feel like you don’t have control over your life, it’s a horrible, desperate feeling. When I was thirteen . . .” She sent a quick glance in Luke’s direction. “No one knows this but Luke and Aaron. I used to cut myself with a razor blade.”
When Sonia made a sound, Miranda quickly went on. “Not to commit suicide but because, with the lifestyle our addict mom created, I felt like I had no control over anything. But that blade gave me control. Over my skin, my blood, my pain, my life. I had control over those.”
Her eyes were clear blue now, focused intently on Julian. “Aaron caught me cutting, and he told me I had control over far more than that. I had survived our mother, I’d survived everything life had thrown my way. He said I was strong and fierce and smart, like a dragon.”
“You got the tattoo so you’d never forget that.”
She gave a rueful smile. “That was the idea. I’ve faltered sometimes, as Luke well knows, but I’ve survived. So for you, it’s the same, right? The bastard pedophile took away your sense of control over your life, but that old lady gave it back. She showed you that you had something incredible, a gift that could make other people feel better. Improve their lives.”
“Yeah. That’s it. Thank you for understanding.” First Iris and now Miranda. To have people actually get him felt like a gift.
As she rose and returned to sit by Luke, Julian said, “I guess that’s why I didn’t get in touch for so long. I needed to feel like I was in control of my life before I could let anyone else in.” He shook his head, refocusing. “Let’s move from the past to the present. I don’t know what the police will do after I tell them. They may question you. Sorry about that.”
“I hate to ask,” Luke said, “but is there a statute of limitations or anything like that?”
“No,” Sonia said. “Not for the sexual abuse of a minor. And Julian, we’re the ones who are sorry.” She squeezed Forbes’s hand. “We failed you in the past. All of us except Miranda. We want to be there for you now.”
Julian had managed to hold it together through their tears and angst, but now emotions threatened to swamp him. Relief, gratitude. “Thanks,” he said gruffly. “Thank you, all of you.”
“You’re welcome,” Miranda said brightly, “but hey, enough about you, okay? Luke and I have our own minor crisis. It’s only ten days until Christmas, and we’ve been so busy with wedding plans that we haven’t got a tree up, or lights or anything.” She tossed Julian a flash of a smile and he realized she’d deliberately rescued him.
She turned to Luke. “So, we could use some help. Right, fiancé of mine?” A wordless message passed between the two of them.
“Right,” Luke said. “Tomorrow afternoon. Who’ll come?”
“You can have my hands,” Forbes said. “One of them isn’t as functional as it used to be, and I won’t be climbing any ladders, but I can untangle strings of lights, that kind of thing.”
“Really, he just wants to boss us all around,” Sonia said, her voice quavering despite her teasing words.
“Count me in,” Julian said, suspecting Miranda and Luke had manufactured the family activity on the spot, to give them all something positive to do together.
“Invite Iris,” Miranda said. “She has an artistic eye.”
“She does,” he said. “I’ll ask. That’d be nice.” He would love to have Iris be part of his family’s holiday preparations. He hoped her shyness wouldn’t lead her to refuse the invitation.
“So this is really a thing, you and Iris?” Sonia asked.
“Yes.” The word popped out of his mouth.
Miranda made a funny snorty sound. “Yeah, but what kind of thing?”
“Why?” he asked. “What’s she said?”
“That you’re good friends and will remain so after you get back to your musician life. Is that how you see it?”
Good friends. It felt like so much more. They were lovers now—and his brain did a sidetrack wondering if Iris would share that information with her girlfriends—and yet the basic truth hadn’t changed. No matter how important Iris had become to him, he had to respect her personality and her needs. Including her need to find love with a man who’d be content within the boundaries of her little world. “Sure.” He tried to sound casual. “She’s a terrific person and I really like her, but what more could it ever be?”
Miranda gave him one of those untranslatable female cat-like smiles. “I’m not the one to answer that question, Julian.”
Chapter Nineteen
It was Wednesday evening and Iris was with Julian. But, sadly, not alone in her apartment exploring the new physical and emotional intimacies of their developing relationship. Instead they were in her car, on their way to Miranda and Luke’s house.
She was driving, both hands on the wheel as always, but Julian’s hand rested on her leg. They were both silent. She’d been unusually silent with her family as well, these past couple of days, anxious not to inadvertently reveal Julian’s secret.
On Monday, Julian had filed a report at the island’s tiny Royal Canadian Mounted Police detachment. The male officer had been professional, but Julian said it was obvious he was skeptical. He’d said he would investigate the report—and he did talk to Forbes, Sonia, and Luke. This morning, the officer had phoned Julian and said that so far they’d found nothing to support his allegations, but they would continue to investigate.
Iris had suggested getting a la
wyer’s opinion, and Eden had agreed to stop by the condo on her way home from work today. She’d done her best to assist but, sadly, had no miraculous solution to offer.
After she left, Iris had set out a light dinner, but neither she nor Julian had done more than pick at the food. She knew he was frustrated and pissed off, and so was she.
The village, as they drove through, was postcard picturesque on this crisp, clear evening, but she wondered if she’d ever view Blue Moon Harbor in the same way. Despite island gossip and the occasional feud, she’d believed her home was a safe, warm, wonderful place. Now, the sight of Destiny Realty with its festive cedar boughs and holly put a sour taste in her mouth.
She averted her eyes, to refocus them a few doors down, on the display in Dreamspinner’s window. Mr. and Mrs. Claus sat in rocking chairs reading to several elves, while a couple of reindeer eavesdropped.
It was the holiday season, a time for optimism and hope. Iris refused to believe that Julian’s courage would be for naught. She would, as the December quotation said, keep her mind even, and she’d keep her spirit strong. “It’s only the first skirmish,” she said. “In the end, he will not prevail. You have a whole team on your side. We’ll come up with a strategic plan.” That was the purpose of tonight’s get-together.
Julian squeezed her leg. “You’re right. I refuse to let him win.”
A few minutes later, as she drove down Tsehum Drive, she gestured toward Luke and Miranda’s house. “We did a great job on Sunday.”
The waterfront home was an architect’s dream, in the very best way. All wood, huge windows, and unusual angles, it blended with its environment and was designed for energy efficiency. Now, the various angles of roof-lines and windows were strung with multicolored lights, and white fairy lights sparkled in a couple of trees in the front yard.
“All it needs is snow,” Julian said, “to really look like Christmas. Not that it’s likely to happen.”