Tackled by the Team

by Sierra Sparks

  Good for Diana. I'm happy for her, and happy that I'm happy. At least I think I am, although I'm not sure how I'll feel after I answer this call.

  "Hello?" I say hesitantly, into the phone.

  "Hello, Elizabeth Jane," the voice on the other end replies. "I was so happy to hear that you had called me."

  I gulp, not sure of what to say next.

  As if trying to make sure he knows who I am— although I already do— he adds,

  "This is your father."

  "Yes," I answer, feeling stupid but not knowing what else to say. "Hello."

  "I've been waiting so long for you to call me."

  "But mom said…"

  He sighs so loudly I can hear it through the phone.

  "I was afraid of this," he says, before I can even finish my sentence. "She didn't give you my number, did she?"

  "Not exactly," I say, half defending her because she's the one who raised me while he split— as she always loves to remind me— and half upset at myself for believing her. "I saw the card with your phone number on it. But she told me she had called it and it was disconnected. I stupidly believed her. I'm sorry."

  "It's okay," he says, his tone turning gentler. "I can completely see that happening."

  "She told me you left us high and dry," I continue. "That you abandoned us."

  "Oh, Elizabeth Jane," he says. "That couldn't be further from the truth. I suppose you didn't get any of my letters, then? My emails?"

  "Letters?" Suddenly I realize. "No, no letters. And right after I saw the card with your phone number on it— which I've kept in my locked diary all this time, but never dared try to call it myself until now— we moved away."

  "So that you'd never get another letter from me," my dad says, sounding sad. I swear it almost sounds like he's crying.

  "This is awful," I tell him. "Would she really do this?"

  "Your mom is… sick," he says, sounding much nicer about it than I would. But I understand.

  "I know," I tell him. "It's like some kind of mental illness."

  "Exactly," he says. "I'm glad you understand. I was afraid it would make you too hard, too cynical."

  "It almost broke me, but I didn't let it," I tell him. "I still have room in my heart for love.

  Room enough to be with Derek, whom I now must admit to myself— even if I can't admit to him— that I love. I try to play it cool about this fake engagement and I do appreciate him helping me during this transition period where I leave my mom's house, but I don't know what I'm going to do after he merges with the new business partners and our fake engagement ends. I guess I'll just enjoy it until then, but it'll be heartbreaking when it's over.

  But thanks to Derek's support, I was brave enough to call my dad. Strong enough to open my heart up to the possibility that maybe he and I could have some kind of relationship. Although apparently, he's been trying to do that all along.

  "What did you mean about emails?" I ask him. "You said you sent me some?"

  "Yes, in one of the earliest cards I sent you, I told you I had set up an email address, just for you and I to correspond, and that I'd be sending you emails. It's DadLovesEJ@greatemail.com. This was back when Greatemail was still popular," he chuckles. "The password is DadAndEJ.

  "Wow, Dad, that's so nice of you," I tell him.

  "I had told you that if you wanted to tell me anything at all, you could drop me a line. And that I'd let you know what's going on in my own life. I've sent you emails there at least weekly since then. If you'd like, you can log in and catch up on everything you've missed. Even though I've lived a pretty boring life, so you might not be able to stay awake."

  I laugh. But then I grow serious.

  "Thank you, Dad," I tell him. "I'd love to check it out. So, what exactly happened between you and Mom, then?"

  "I didn't leave her like she told you," he insists. "To be honest, I'd thought a lot about leaving her, because she could be so cruel and…"

  "Crazy?" I venture.

  "Something like that." He pauses. "But I wasn't sure I could go through with it. I had taken vows. I believed in commitment. She joined a cultish church, though, and became obsessed with trying to save me from hellfire and damnation."

  "Wow," I tell him. "She's still pretty religious now, but we go to a Presbyterian church. It's nothing that crazy."

  "It's because the church she was a member of was driven out of town," he says. "They were advocating for the literal stoning of anyone who disagreed with them. They were going door to door and leaving hateful messages on the doorsteps of anyone who refused to repent."

  "Oh, my God," I say. "I had no idea."

  "Yeah, it was pretty bad. Obviously, I didn't agree with any of it. They had someone from CPS come talk to us, because they thought your mom might be poisoning your mind with that stuff. It was a fine line between religious freedom and emotional child abuse, but in the end, they told your mom she had to go to parenting classes and agree not to take part in the hateful acts towards others."

  "And how did they determine…?"

  "What was hateful and what wasn't?" Dad asks.

  "Yeah, exactly."

  "Good question. But at about that same time, there was a local petition going around and anyone associated with this cult was being shunned. So, the cult moved to a different location— where, believe it or not, even more people who believed in this hateful stuff lived— and your mom didn't go with them. She said she never meant to be hateful. She wasn’t a part of the super nasty stuff, more like, a churchgoer. So, she switched churches and toned down the fire and brimstone rhetoric."

  I'm silent, letting all of this soak in.

  "So," I finally say. "How does this explain what happened to you and her? I mean, other than the fact that she was nuts?"

  "Well, she was insistent I join that cult at first. Obviously, I refused. So, then she said she just wanted me to believe in her religion and forsake worldly ways. I tried to do it, but I don't really know what she even wanted from me. Nothing seemed good enough."

  "I know what you mean," I joke.

  But in reality, it's sad.

  "She gathered my entire record collection— which I've had since I was a kid— and burned them all," he told me. "And my concert t-shirts too."

  "That's horrible!"

  "I know. I went and downloaded some of the music, to salvage what I could, and that was it for us. She said I wasn't honoring my commitment to her to forsake all worldly ways, and that instead I was insistent on listening to the devil's music. She told me she wanted nothing to do with me. She left me."

  "Wow."

  I shouldn't be surprised. My mom has acted in similar ways against me. I should have figured she was lying and playing the poor victim when really it was the other way around. But it's still a lot to take in.

  "I'm sorry that happened, Dad," is all I can finally think of to say.

  "It's all right," he says. "It's not your fault. I feel bad for not being in your life. I tried to call, to file court papers so I could establish paternity and pay child support and get some visitation, everything. But she just kept moving around and sporadically answering but then disappearing again."

  "That sounds like her," I agree.

  "In the end, once you were old enough to— in my opinion— start making up your own mind, I sent you that card. Your mom called the number and told me that you had received it but didn't want to talk to me. She said that if you changed your mind, one of you would let me know."

  "Of course, she did," I tell him. "She lied to both of us."

  "I'm so glad you called me though," he says. "I thought I'd never hear from you again. I live in Chicago now— I moved out here for work— but I kept this number just in case. And I'd love to meet up and talk more."

  "I'd like that too," I tell him. "I have to go to class now, but I'll call you this weekend and we'll set something up."

  "That sounds great," he says. "And, college classes?"

  "Yeah."

  I
realize I can tell him the name of the course—something I was never able to do with my mom.

  "This one is Evolutionary Psychology."

  "Sounds interesting," he says, and it's refreshing to not be judged by one of my parents at least. "I'm proud of you for being in school. Have a good class."

  "Bye, Dad," I say, and head to Messer Hall after I hang up.

  Now I have even more to tell Diana. Not to mention Derek. I'm so grateful my mom made him give me a mental exam as well as a physical exam. Both experiences have completely changed my life.

  Chapter 30 – Derek

  It's Elizabeth Jane's first day on the job, and I can tell that my business partners aren't too happy that I hired her without talking to them first. Or perhaps they're not too happy that I hired her at all.

  "Don't tell me this is going to be a repeat of the Maria situation," Niles snaps at me, hissing under his breath.

  "It's not," I tell him. "It's completely different."

  "Get in here for the meeting," Niles says. "This is exactly the sort of thing we need to talk to you about."

  "That's good," I tell him, smiling. "Because it's probably along the same line as what I want to talk to you guys about."

  His face goes pale.

  "What you have to talk to us about?" he repeats. "No, you don't get to tell us anything. We get to tell you what you need to do if there's any hope for this deal to go through."

  I shrug and say, "Let's head into this meeting then."

  I know that Niles is upset with me, but he shouldn't be making threats he can't carry out. I'm the brains behind this operation, and I own the lion's share of our business capital, so none of them can do much without me.

  On our way to the conference room, we pass Elizabeth Jane. She's receiving instructions on how to answer the phone, and she smiles at me.

  I look at her amazing ass and wink at her. I can't wait until I get to put my hands all over her later.

  As soon as Niles and I walk into the room, the other partners glare at me. No one looks very happy to be having to have this discussion.

  "Derek, we need to talk," Mark Roberts says, before I can even take a seat. I do anyway though.

  "We don't know what you're thinking, getting really close and comfy with this young patient of yours and then bringing her on to work here, after what just happened with Maria," he continues. "But we can't tolerate it. You need to stop seeing her. In fact, it may be best if you take a leave of absence between now and when the merger goes through, just so that you don't do anything stupid and mess up the entire deal."

  "I can't stop seeing her," I tell him. "It's impossible."

  They blink at me, looking as confused and upset as they would if I had just told them we're not having a Christmas party this year.

  "What do you mean, it's impossible to stop seeing her?" Jeff Richards asks.

  "We're engaged," I tell them.

  Now they look like they want to laugh their heads off at me.

  "Engaged?" Jeff asked, incredulous.

  "Yes, engaged."

  They all look at Niles, usually my closest ally among the group, as if for confirmation. He throws his hands up in the air, as if signaling to them that he's as surprised as they are about this news.

  "You don't get engaged," Niles says. "You're the ultimate player."

  "Well, that's changed," I tell him. "That hot little number out there in the receptionist area is my fiancée."

  "No," Jeff says. "Nope, nope, nope, I don't buy it."

  "I don't either," Mark chimes in. "Just a few weeks ago, you were banging Maria and then begging us to help you figure out how to cut ties with her without bringing our whole company down. Suddenly you're a reformed man, engaged to a teenager you've known since she was in diapers?"

  "She's nineteen," I say defensively. "And not since she was in diapers."

  "I call bullshit," Mia Malone, one of the few female partners, says. "And I'd bet this Elizabeth Jane Suttell— isn't that her name? — would say differently."

  Well then, I'm glad I clued her in on my little scheme, I think.

  "Yeah, doesn't she have that super strict, religious mother?" Niles asks. "Shirley. She'd never go for that."

  "Let's bring in this new employee and supposedly new fiancée," Jeff proposes. "And ask her ourselves."

  Perfect.

  They're falling into the trap I'd set just as I'd planned, and even deeper than I’d imagined. I didn't know they'd ask her right here and now, but that’s fine with me because it'll be even more convincing that way.

  Mia goes to get her and says, "I'll go ask her and try to handle the situation delicately, woman to woman."

  "I want to hear what she has to say," Jeff protests. "If this girl cries sexual harassment, we're going to have another potential lawsuit on our hands. I demand the right to question her too."

  "Fine," Mia says, rolling her eyes. "At least let me go break the news that we have some questions to ask her in a manner that seems like a little less of a witch hunt, alright? I'll bring her back here to the conference room so that everyone can hear what she has to say."

  "All right," Jeff grumbles. "That'll suffice."

  "You sweating yet?" Mark asks me, as if they have me right where they want me, instead of the other way around.

  "Nope," I tell him. "I'm too busy imagining my wedding night with someone so hot she'd never look at you guys twice."

  I nod at all the other male doctors in the room, to make sure to include each of them. Some of them actually chuckle, and Jim Morestone says, "You're something else, Derek."

  "At least I'm never boring," I agree.

  Everyone looks like they can’t wait to hear what Elizabeth Jane has to say. And I can’t wait to see how the looks on their faces are going to change once she fills them in. I’m beginning to wish the conference room was equipped with a popcorn machine, because I know this going to be entertaining.

  Chapter 31 – Derek

  Before long, Mia returns, with Liz following her. I start to feel bad for dragging her in for questioning by these ignoramuses. I half expect her to be hanging her head down in shame, but she's looking at me with a naughty smirk on her adorable face, as if we’d rehearsed this part, although we hadn’t.

  That's my girl.

  I'm so proud of her right now. I realize how loyal she is to me and I want to do everything I can to be loyal to her in return. I've never felt this way for anyone else and I never even fucking knew that I could.

  "Ms. Suttell," Jeff asks her, without even offering her a seat. "Sorry to bother you. We realize it's your first afternoon on the job, even though we didn't even know you were going to start working today. For just a couple of hours, after your class got out. We didn’t realize you were going to be working here at all."

  The tone of his voice makes it clear that he’s not happy about any of these changes in circumstance.

  "I'm sorry," Liz says, smiling pleasantly at his passive aggressive rudeness. "Is that a problem?"

  "That depends," Jeff says. "On the nature of your relationship— if any—" he rushes to correct himself— "with Dr. Monroe."

  "I see."

  She still looks at him unflinchingly. Suddenly he looks nervous. I love how my little Liz can make a grown man— and a bully at that— flustered.

  "I suppose that's our main question," he finally continues. "What, if anything, is your relationship with Dr. Monroe?"

  "Why, he's my fiancé," Liz says, without missing a beat.

  I want to get up and hug her. But I remain seated, with half a smile on my face, as if to say, "See? I told you so."

  "Since when?" Mark demands.

  She turns her polite smile towards him.

  "Since just recently, actually," she says. And then she follows it up brilliantly. "Why? Is that a problem? I've only had a little time to review the employee handbook I just received, but I didn't see anything about someone's spouse or fiancée not being allowed to work here."

  "It'
s not a problem if it's true," Jeff says. "But I still have my doubts."

  "Come on now, calm down," Niles says, finally jumping to my defense. "You asked the girl a question and she answered it. What more do you want from her?"

  "Details," Jeff says, nearly frothing at the mouth to prove me a liar. "He probably just told her to say they're engaged, to save his ass. Tell us when the wedding is," he demands of Liz.

  I'm about to protest but without missing a beat, Liz answers.

  "It's in two months," she says. "June 29th. I always did want a June wedding, Love.”

  Now she smiles at me, and her cute little dimple makes me wish we were alone. Not to mention her quick wit and charm.

  "There you have it," Niles says, convinced. "A June wedding."

  "Where is this wedding going to be held?” Jeff demands.

  Liz pauses, and only now do I start worrying.

  Tell him we haven't ironed out the details, I try to say to her through telepathy. Not everyone knows where they're getting married yet. We could be venue shopping.

  "Houghton Hotel, of course," she says, with a sassy little raise of her shoulder. "Where else is there to get married around here?"

  I raise an eyebrow at her. Has she really planned all of this out? Or is she just this much of a good liar? She’s even got me wondering.

  "They have the best weddings," she continues, not even batting an eyelash in my direction.

  She sure is putting on a convincing show.

  "But the one we're planning will far surpass all the rest. We're not doing the normal dove release. Instead, there will be two monkeys who are in love— they're an actual pair of monkeys in real life, isn't that cute?— who will perform for our guests while we take our first walk down the aisle as husband and wife.”

  Jeff’s mouth is hanging open. And I can’t help but wonder: Where’s the damn popcorn when I need it?

  “And forget about a horse drawn carriage to bring me to the ceremony,” Liz continues. “I'm going to be riding a hot air balloon, specially flown in from New Mexico for the occasion."