Marcus: The M Series, Book Three

by Ryanne Anthony

  “Get out of my face, Vera. I no longer know you. You disappointed everyone when you married that... Just get out of my face!”

  “Joshua,” Matthew growls, glaring at Hickson as he removes his jacket. “You still have your checkbook?”

  “No, Matthew, don't!” I say, stepping in front of him. “Mariah's in the room behind us. Enough of this. You know what you need to do.”

  “Already done,” Matthew smirks.

  “Call security,” Thomas shouts. “I want this asshole out of here, now. Go get Melvin and Nathan, Tom. I'm fine.”

  “I'm going to pray for you, Grant. You have some serious issues. I hope that doctor's mother rips you and your lawyer new assholes and leaves you nothing to buy extra toilet paper,” Vera snaps. “You continue to disgust me, just like your father.”

  “Not as much as you disgust me for letting that man have you! You should be ashamed to claim those things as your children! My father thought the same thing on his death bed! I cannot believe you and I are related, let alone siblings! Thank God Constance can’t see you, now! She wouldn’t deign to even acknowledge you!”

  “Good for me,” Vera shouts. “She’s just as bad as you are and so was that no-account bigoted husband of hers! God, I hope her son is nothing like them or you!”

  “Don’t hope anything about him. He has no idea you exist, no idea a descendent of his grandfather married one of them! How could you be that thing’s whore? Do you know how deeply you destroyed my father?”

  “Hey! What the hell is going on here,” Daniels shouts as he and Parker swiftly walk toward us. “Who the hell is that?”

  “Did he just call my mother-in-law a whore,” Parker loudly demands. “And on the day she buried her husband?”

  “Thank God,” Hickson chuckles. “Took him long enough to leave this earth. One less for the world to look at.”

  Matthew talks quietly to Daniels while Hunt runs up and stands in front of Parker, trying to get him back down the hall. Daniels nods then goes back down the hall, talking on his cell. Two guards approach.

  “You called for security, Dr. Harvey?”

  “Yes, I did, Eddie. Dr. Hickson is no longer welcomed in this hospital. You and Jonas remove him immediately, please.”

  “With pleasure, sir,” another guard says as his face lights up. He's an African-American.

  “Jonas?”

  “Yes, Dr. Harvey?”

  “Have you had problems with this trash, too?”

  “Absolutely, sir.”

  “Escort him out and come back. There's a lawyer coming I would like you to speak with.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jonas grins as he manhandles Hickson and shoves him toward the elevator. The Eddie guy laughs and watches as he walks behind them.

  Thomas walks over to the reception desk and picks up the phone.

  “Barbara, Dr. Harvey. I want you to contact every employee of the hospital and tell them there is a mandatory meeting in the auditorium at seven. I need you to take minutes and call a restaurant, several if you have to and get whatever food and drink you can. Charge it to me.”

  “Joshua,” I murmur.

  Joshua nods. “I'll call Cavatappi and Lila's, Thomas. We'll handle it.”

  “Never mind about the restaurants, Barbara. Just get every employee that is not working in the auditorium at seven. Thank you.”

  Melvin turns the corner with Nathan and a tall, beautiful African-American woman is between them. A couple of other people are behind them writing, furiously. She smiles when they get us.

  “And who are these handsome men, honey?”

  “Dr. Marcus Cannon, Dr. Thomas Harvey, Dr. Tom Harvey and Matthew Cannon. The guy on the phone is Joshua Cannon. This is my mother, Sheila Boston-Henderson. Mom, they witnessed the punch.”

  Joshua smiles while he talks and offers her his hand. She smiles as she shakes it then turns to Melvin with a frown.

  “What punch? Who got punched,” Matthew says. “Marcus, you saw a punch?”

  “No, I didn't. Thomas?”

  Thomas twitches his mouth and shakes his head.

  Mrs. Henderson looks at us, sternly. “Is that right, gentlemen?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Matthew grins.

  Mrs. Henderson shakes her head and frowns at Ethan. “Why are you here, Ethan? If memory serves, you're supposed to be at a funeral.”

  “Mrs. B, can you step over here? That’s my sister, Mariah Cannon,” Ethan says softly, pointing in Mariah's room. I went to the funeral of the man that saved the life of her daughter, my niece.”

  She peeks into the little window on the door and gasps. “Why didn't you tell me this was why you requested leave? Or that Mariah is your sister?”

  “You know my wife,” I ask her, completely surprised.

  “You're Mariah's 'boo',” she asks in a high pitched voice.

  I grin. “Yes I am, Mrs. Henderson.”

  “My, my... she was not kidding about your eyes.” She offers her hand. “Sheila, please. Yes, I've met your lovely wife at a charity function. And I was there when she introduced Ira to my baby boy,” she says as she pinches Melvin's face.

  Melvin sighed and swatted her hand away. “Mom! Can you try to be professional? Dr. Harvey used to be my boss and I need a reference from him and Marcus!”

  “No, you don't, Henderson. I didn't accept your notice. Nor yours Nathan,” Thomas says.

  “That's settled,” Sheila says. “Now, where's my Ira? I need to speak with him.”

  “In the conference room, Mom; he’s with the rest of Mariah's family.”

  “Fine. I need to ask him and you gentlemen a few questions about what happened here this afternoon.”

  We walk back down the hall, toward the conference room.

  “I have some other people for you to talk to,” Thomas says. “I'll set you up in an area across from the conference room. I can tell you now that I saw nothing except Hickson fall back after I hit him.”

  “You hit the bigot, too,” Sheila asks.

  “I did.”

  “Do you have an attorney near, Dr. Harvey?”

  “Thomas,” he smiles.

  “All right, Thomas.”

  “Um, Mrs. B?”

  “Yes, Ethan?”

  “I've collected retainers from everyone, except Melvin, Nathan, Ira and the Daniels.”

  She narrows her eyes. “You charge them the going family rate for my firm?”

  “No, I charged them double,” Ethan grins.

  She snickers. “You charged them a dollar?”

  “Yes, ma'am. They can afford it.”

  We chuckle and Sheila laughs.

  “Okay, good. Now, what happened in court this morning? I heard you were fined ten grand.”

  “Ma'am,” Matthew calls. “Ethan represented me this morning and he got the charges dropped.”

  “All right. And the fine?”

  Ethan chuckles. “I was held in contempt for using inappropriate language.”

  Sheila freezes then turns to Ethan. “Inappropriate language? Please tell me you didn't swear at the judge, Ethan!”

  “No. It was aimed at the asshole that kidnapped my sister after he asked me to represent him.”

  She snickers again. “Fine. Make sure you put a dollar in the fine jar.”

  “Only a dollar?”

  “Only a dollar, Ethan.”

  “I will, Mrs. B.”

  “Now, collect a dollar from those you missed, if they want to retain us.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Boston.”

  “And Ethan?”

  “Yes?”

  “Good work getting the charges dropped for gorgeous over here.”

  Matthew grins and smacks my shoulder. “You hear that, Cramp? I'm gorgeous!”

  I laugh as we enter the conference room.

  “You know, Matthew, I have a single daughter –”

  Matthew holds up a hand. “Sorry, ma'am. I'm off the market. I just got engaged.”

  “What,” Mother and Dad screech
at the same time.

  “When did that happen,” Mandy screams as she hauls Sidra to her.

  “Before the funeral,” Sidra blushes.

  Everyone loudly congratulates Sidra and then Matthew. Suddenly, Rachel screams and Lisa gasps.

  “What,” I say and follow their gaze. They’re staring at Daniels.

  “Oh, my God,” Rachel murmurs as she sways.

  “Catch her, Tom,” I shout. “Lisa, what’s going on?”

  Lisa points at Daniels. “Nathan! Look!”

  Nathan looks to where Lisa is pointing and he focuses on Daniels.

  “Jesus Christ,” he yells, stumbling back and paling. “No wonder she fainted! Get her purse and find her wallet!”

  Lisa reaches in a purse, shaking. She searches through the wallet and pulls out a picture and looks up at Daniels.

  “Um, Darren Daniels Junior, right?”

  “Yes,” Daniels nods. “But call me Dannie.”

  “Dannie, can you leave the room until Mom wakes up and is alert,” she asks him, still staring like she's seen a ghost.

  “Why?” Dannie frowns. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No,” Lisa whispers, giving me the picture.

  I inhale; it's Mariah's father. I stare at Dannie.

  “Holy fuck,” Matthew whispers at my ear.

  “Is that Donald,” Joshua asks.

  I nod and walk over to Dannie and show him the picture. He scowls.

  “I've never been a cop. Who did this?”

  “It's not retouched, Dannie. This is Mariah's deceased father. She wasn't delusional when you talked to her. She thought she was talking to her father when she saw your face.”

  “What,” he asks, staring at the photo again. “I look... holy hell,” he mutters, looking at his mother. He takes the picture to her. “You think?”

  Her eyes well. “Is... was his name, H-Hollander? Did he have an aunt named Matilda Hollander?”

  “His name was Donald Hollander. He had an aunt named Mattie. I guess her real name could've been Matilda but you'd have to ask Rachel or Mariah for certain.”

  Rachel groans as Thomas circles salts under nose. Dannie ducks out of the room but he peeks in as Rachel revives.

  “Tell me I imagined it. Do I need a MRI or something? I thought I saw my first husband; a man who's been dead twenty-three years!”

  “Rachel,” I call softly. “Donald's aunt Mattie,was that her real name?”

  She frowns at me and shakes her head. “No. Matilda Ann Hollander. Why? What am I missing?”

  Marsha stands next to me. “Rachel? I think Mattie was my mother. She gave me up when I was a baby. She was only fourteen when I was born.”

  “Oh, God,” Rachel sighs. “I thought you looked familiar. Let me up. I'm fine.” Nathan helps her up and she takes her wallet from Lisa's hands. She rifles through it and pulls out a picture. “This is your mother.” Rachel passes the picture to Marsha, who takes it and cries.

  “I look like her,” she says quietly. “When was this taken?”

  “That was my sixth anniversary with Donald; he took that picture. I was pregnant with the twins and we were out celebrating with Mattie.” She points to the picture. “That grinning little face is Mariah, your cousin. She was five then.”

  My brothers and I peek over Marsha's shoulder and we all inhale sharply.

  “Looks like Lila, doesn't it?” Rachel smilingly asks. We nod as my mother and father step up to see the picture.

  “What happened to my mother? Donald?”

  Rachel whispers, “Donald and my twins died in a car accident when Mariah was eight. Mattie, who was still suffering from the loss of her brother and best friend, followed almost a year later. They say it was a heart attack, but I think she was in too much pain in this world.”

  Marsha holds Rachel’s hand. “The man you saw before you fainted, he's my son, Darren Junior.”

  Rachel gasps. “Oh, good. So I wasn't seeing things.”

  “No. He does look like his cousin. Very scary.”

  “Did he leave?”

  “No, he's in the hall where he’ll stay until he knows you're stable. He doesn't want to scare you again.”

  “I'll leave if my face is too much for you, Mrs. Harvey,” Dannie calls from the hall.

  Rachel takes a deep breath then walks over to the door and pulls Dannie into the room. “I’m Rachel. How did I manage to miss you this last week? Or earlier today?”

  “I kept in the makeshift office last week, ma'am. Since and today, I just don't know.”

  Rachel stares at Dannie for the longest time. “It's uncanny. And really fucking weird,” she laughs as she hugs him. “It's really great to meet some of Mariah's relatives. I'm sure she'll be pleased. We thought she was the last of the Hollanders.” She turns to Marsha. “After I've seen my daughter, I'd like to have a conversation with you and Matthew, if you don't mind.”

  Marsha smiles as she hugs her son. “No, I don't mind.”

  Matthew's eyebrows shoot up as he looks at me. “Think she knows who her father is?”

  “Why else would she want to speak to you and Marsha?”

  Rachel loops her hand on my arm. “Ready?”

  I nod and walk her to Mariah's room, where music is playing beside her. When she gets a good look at her, Rachel cries and tells me how grateful she didn't see her last week when she was found.

  Mariah's face is still purple in spots and most of the swelling is gone. She looks like she did when she was carrying the boys and so much better than before. I don’t believe Rachel could’ve handled seeing her that way.

  After an hour, Rachel kisses Mariah's cheek and whispers to her to get lots of rest and come back to her as healthy as she was before all the bullshit. She leaves the room after a large exhale.

  I bend close to Mariah’s ear and tell her she needs to wake soon; she has new cousins from her father's side that want to meet her. I kiss her cheek and assure her I’ll return in a little while then turn up the volume on the stereo.

  As I make my way back to the conference room, I see Joshua in the doorway. He motions for me to hurry.

  “He's coming now, Rachel,” he says into the room.

  When I enter, Rachel takes my hand and sits me next to her and beckons Matthew to her other side. Marsha and Dannie sit across from us.

  The room quiets as Rachel takes a deep breath. Thomas walks up and rubs her shoulders and she smiles up at him and holds his hand.

  Rachel turns to me. “I never want to tell this again. I need you to tell Mariah when you think she will be ready to hear it. Will you do that, please?”

  I grip her hand. “Of course.”

  She smiles then turns to Matthew. “I don't... I've never hired a detective before. How do I do that? Hire you, I mean. Do you charge a retainer or something?”

  “Yes. I'll bill you later,” he smiles as he takes out a notepad and pen.

  Rachel smiles back, then looks at Marsha. “I promised my dear friend that I’d tell this to you; that you’d know everything if she was gone when you found her. She said she didn’t want me to find you because she feared you weren’t told about your adoption and that was the only reason she didn’t look harder for you.”

  “I’ve known since I was thirteen, when my father died. My mother confessed it after his funeral, when I curiously asked why I didn’t look like anyone else.”

  “Now you know where you got your face.” Rachel smiles. “Are you ready to hear this?”

  Marsha takes a deep breath and nods.

  Chapter FOURTEEN

  The Hollanders

  July 14, 2018 – 4.19 p.m.

  “Matilda Ann and her older brother Donald Joseph Hollander were the only children of Anna Marie Jefferson and Joseph Franklin Hollander, a southern Baptist minister. Donald senior was born August 5th, 1934 and he lived until August 11th, 1983. Mattie was born July 24th, 1938. She passed away November 7th, 1995. Mattie and Donald fell in love with siblings from Greenwood, Mississipp
i; they were from Avalon. Their father opposed the union with Mattie because she was thirteen, and thought she could do better. He had no choice but to accept Donald's union because he was of age but because he didn't think that family was Christian enough for his children, he made Donald choose between what he felt for his intended and his sense of duty for his mother and father. He wanted Donald to be a minister like him.

  “Donald chose his love for his fiancée. Her name was Ginny. Mattie's flame convinced her to get pregnant, hoping to get her father's consent to marry. Mattie was around five months along when he got cold feet and decided he didn't want to be a father. He disappeared one evening, right after he had sex with Mattie one last time. It broke her heart. She never trusted another man after that and she went to her grave never marrying nor having any more children.

  “After you were born, Marsha, she reluctantly gave you up and ran away to Chicago to live with her brother and his wife. She looked for you when you were eighteen and again after her brother died, but I'm sure you know how the records are kept from that era. They couldn't even tell her who you were placed with, before your adoption, this is why she believed you had no clue of your adoption. She never heard from your father again and she died, holding my hand and whispering the name she gave you, praying you were safe and apologizing for not being strong enough to keep and run away with you.”

  “W-what...” Marsha stutters as tears roll down her cheeks. “What is my name?”

  Rachel sighs. “Margaret Agnes Redding. Your father's name was, or is, Carl Emmett Redding, brother of Virginia Agnes Redding-Hollander.”

  “My birthday. Is it really in April?”

  Rachel shakes her head. “You were born on July twenty-ninth; five days after your mother's fifteenth birthday.” She reaches and takes Marsha's hand. “Your mother told me the whole story as we were visiting Mariah in the hospital after the accident, saying she wanted to be sure someone else knew the story. She never told her nephew, my first husband, about any of it and I don't think his parents did either.