by Dara Girard
He couldn’t help a smile. He looked up then bit his lip and winked. “Is that better?”
He was hoping to make her smile, but she didn’t. For a moment he wondered if he’d lost his touch, usually women responded favorably to him. Unfortunately, this woman didn’t appear to. He couldn’t read her face. He sighed and lowered his gaze again.
She kicked him.
“Ow!” He stared at her stunned. “What was that for?”
“I told you to look at me.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. Prison’s behind you. Start keeping your head up. You can’t look ahead with your eyes on the ground.”
Jason blinked. His world seemed to tilt out of orbit as he looked at her solemn brown gaze, his eyes soaking in her pretty features as he suddenly realized that he was already falling in love with the woman he planned to marry.
33
“Are you going to see him again?” Vera Doran said with a smile when Catherine told them she wouldn’t be available for dinner. She sat in the living room with a magazine, while her husband flipped through streaming options on their large TV.
“Yes,” Catherine said.
“Isn’t this the fourth time?”
“Yes.”
“When are we going to get a chance to meet him?”
“Oh...leave her alone,” Noah said. “She’ll let us meet her young man when she’s ready.”
“I hope that doesn’t take too long.”
“At least she’s not just focusing on us and work as she has the past few years. I was starting to worry.”
Catherine only smiled, used to having them talk about her when she was still in the room. It was always affectionately done. Although it had taken getting used to at first since she was used to being talked about as if she wasn’t there. ‘What’s the girl doing?’ someone would ask. ‘Don’t worry about her, she’s too stupid to understand,’ another would reply.
But her father and mother were very considerate of her, giving her space and helping her to adjust. “No, leave that for the maid, that’s what she’s there for,” Vera had told her when she’d started to wash the dishes. Having staff had taken getting used to. Although she’d had them growing up, she’d never really paid attention before. Now she was fully aware that the meals didn’t appear by magic, that the chandelier and silver gleamed, clothes washed, beds made, rooms dusted were due to someone’s efforts. She’d never take that for granted again.
Her father delighted in showing her every aspect of his business, pleased when she asked certain questions. “Yes, you have a head for figures just like me.” He was a boisterous man, with wide shoulders and ruddy brown skin, who loved to give big hugs. He wore his affection like a cape. There was no denying the pride he had in her. He liked to smoke thick cigars, laugh at dirty jokes and listen to ska music. Catherine wasn’t sure Evelyn would have done well with him in the long term. She liked her quiet refined ways and Noah Doran made it very clear that he didn’t have much time for education and what he called fine useless things. “If I was supposed to know Greek, I would have been born there,” he’d said when Catherine had quoted a known scholar in the original text.
But although he didn’t like academics, he was a smart man who’d built his wealth on savvy business skills. His wife, Vera, was more demure, many times being his good manners. A plump, pleasant and pretty woman born to a line of Irish steel workers who proudly proclaimed they’d helped build most of New York City. She’d grown up with a father and mother who loved her but didn’t expect much from her. She’d proven them wrong by studying hard and becoming the first to attend college and becoming a doctor.
No children came from their union, which had been by choice as Vera once told her. “Noah makes a wonderful husband, but would have made a miserable father, for his business was his true baby.” She’d told Catherine it was after a health scare and his father’s failing health that had prompted Noah to look up the daughter he’d had from a youthful indiscretion. He wanted his life and business to mean something and have someone to pass it on to. He’d become determined that she would carry his business on when he passed away.
“Can’t we just know a little bit more about him?” Vera asked, when she caught Catherine glancing at the clock.
“It’s nothing serious.”
“We don’t even have a name.”
“It’s Jason.”
“And what does he do?”
“He works in finance.” At least he did before he ended up in prison. She didn’t plan to tell them that. She wasn’t even certain if what she was doing was wise. She’d helped him because he’d looked so lost and she knew the feeling.
She hadn’t known what to do her first real day of freedom. Freedom to choose what to do with her time. For so long her life had been based on someone else’s schedule. Now the choice was hers. Choice had felt so overwhelming in the early days. Where to go, what to do, what to say.
It had felt comforting to meet someone who understood that. If he’d been any other man, she would have said no when he asked to see her again to return the favor. But she’d found herself saying yes to lunch, then yes again to a museum, then dinner.
She couldn’t tell them that she’d met him by design rather than accident. She’d already known his name and that he’d just been released on parole. He was to become an unwitting accomplice to her plans. She just hadn’t expected to like him so much.
She’d heard about his story three years ago when she’d found one of the gardeners upset.
“My nephew’s being set up and his stupid lawyer did nothing,” the older man had said when Catherine had convinced him to tell her what was bothering him.
“What happened?”
And that’s when she got the story, that he’d been charged with embezzling and been convicted. His nephew had been pressured to plead guilty, otherwise he was facing a long sentence if he’d lost, and the lawyer didn’t feel confident he could win against the evidence the prosecution had. He’d been given an eight-year sentence and had been paroled after two. Catherine wasn’t completely convinced of Jason’s innocence or guilt, but that hadn’t been what had interested her in his story—it was who he was as a man. If he was guilty, then he was the kind who could help her accomplish some tasks that may be on the outer shades of the law. If he was innocent, she hoped he was angry enough to want redemption, perhaps he’d be a cynical and angry young man. That would have been easier to manipulate. But he wasn’t. That was only one of the many ways he continued to surprise her.
“Don’t you want to clear your name?” she asked him on an early date as they walked along the Mall in Washington DC, after visiting the Air and Space Museum. He’d briefly shared how his lawyer had convinced him that accepting a plea deal was the best option but still confessed his innocence, ‘But everyone says that, right?’ he added. Now he walked beside her as if they were discussing the plot of a TV drama.
Jason squinted up at the sky. “Some day, but right now I just want to get my life back on track and eventually convince a beautiful woman to share it with me.”
“I’m sure that won’t be too difficult.”
He looked down at her and smiled. “So you’ll make it easy for me?”
Catherine didn’t usually blush, but he had that effect on her. It was that smile, so guileless and genuine. “I’m serious.”
“Good. Me too.”
“I could help you.”
“Why would you want to?” His smile disappeared. “Because you don’t want to be with someone with a record?”
“No,” Catherine said, quickly surprised how much she didn’t like when he looked unhappy. “That’s not it.” If you knew my past you may not want to be with me either. “I just hate injustice. I’ve seen too much of it.”
Jason reached out and took her hand. “Tell me who hurt you and I’ll get them for you.”
Don’t worry, you will if everything goes as planned. “They’re long gone.”
He fell
silent for a long moment, then said, “I don’t think revenge is very useful, but I would like my reputation restored.”
She remembered the shock of hearing the company, Sintex Inc, where Jason had worked before being blamed for embezzlement, provided computer security for companies, including her father’s skin care company. Whether he was innocent or not—and she was beginning to think he was innocent—he could have crucial information about the business that she could exploit. Unfortunately, he didn’t know why he’d been chosen as a scapegoat for the false charge.
But that wasn’t forefront on Catherine’s mind. The skin care company was very profitable, to her annoyance. When she’d seen Joscelyn’s name as a member of the board she wanted to retch. Her stepsister had little interest in the business before and some of the recent changes to the business model had been surprisingly—if not miraculously—successful. But everything appeared above board and shareholders were happy. Catherine sensed something not right, but there wasn’t any evidence and presently Jason could offer her no insight, but she’d be patient. Jason was important somehow, she just didn’t know how yet. Once she did and had the right way to attack, she planned to do a lot of damage.
Jason didn’t like to talk about his former job or about his life in prison and she didn’t blame him, she didn’t talk about her past—not that she could as Evelyn—and every day that passed she pushed it further from her mind.
But slowly he did open up and share his bewilderment about how incriminating evidence had shown up on his computer and how swift and complete his downfall had been.
As she listened to his story, Catherine felt angry on his behalf. It was so unfair. He was a rising star in the billing department and everything was snatched from him and yet he wasn’t bitter. He could still laugh. He reminded her of Helen, the girl who’d first befriended her after she’d been sold. How people like them existed, she didn’t know. How could they laugh and smile still? They may not dream of revenge, but it was what she lived for.
34
“Are you doing this to hurt me?”
“Mom, I did my best.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the truth.”
Maureen stared down at her nineteen year old son as he sat in his pristine room at his desk, looking miserable. She didn’t care about that. She wanted him to be miserable so that he could improve. The C she’d seen on his report card was unacceptable.
“I know you think I’m pushing you hard,” she said. “But it’s for your own good. I will make sure you are the man your father never was. You will not become some woman’s burden,” she vowed, thinking of the man who’d left her to raise his son on her own because of his grief. His grief, as if she didn’t grieve too. As if his grief was more important than hers. No, her son would be strong, he would make her proud. He wouldn’t abandon his duty, his role. He would always do what was right no matter how much it hurt.
“Mom,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m just not good in science or math.”
“With practice you will improve.”
“But—”
“It doesn’t come naturally, it’s something that takes concerted effort and diligence to master.”
“But I don’t like it.”
“You’ll learn to like it. As a doctor—”
“I don’t want to be a doctor. Joscelyn’s already the doctor in the family. I want—”
“I don’t care what you want. This is what you’ll do. It’s either this or business law so that you can help run and expand the business.”
“I want to be a music teacher.”
Maureen visibly shivered at the suggestion. “You don’t know what you want yet. You may enjoy playing your little clarinet, but that’s not real life. Next you’ll want drums and to join a band.”
Aaron shook his head, looking tired. “It’s not the same. I’m really good.”
“Teaching doesn’t pay well. You’re being given an opportunity to really prove yourself in this world. A chance your sister never had. Are you going to throw it all away?”
Aaron hung his head, tired of the ghost of his sainted sister Catherine. “I’m not her.”
“You don’t need to remind me of the obvious.” Maureen sighed. She never told Aaron that Catherine hadn’t been good in academics either. She didn’t know why Emery’s son hadn’t gotten his smarts. “I know it’s hard and you’re young right now, but your path is set. It’s a hard one, but the reward is worth it.”
Aaron stared at his books, wishing he could tear them up and burn them. Why wouldn’t she let him be who he wanted to be? He loved music and kids. But he knew that wasn’t a manly enough career for his mother. He wished she’d leave him alone instead of always reminding him of how much he disappointed her. Wasn’t it enough that his sisters were all successful? Why did she have to push him so hard? He couldn’t go out with his friends, he couldn’t join sports. Or do anything. She never left him alone, but it had been that way since he’d been born.
“It’s because of Catherine,” Marie had told him when he was old enough to hear the story. He’d learned that his sister had been kidnapped and his mother seemed to blame herself and she’d make sure never to lose him.
But he felt suffocated. He craved just a little freedom without feeling his mother’s eagle gaze on him. His friends laughed at him behind his back. It was so obvious how anxious she was and it was getting embarrassing. No, it was past embarrassing. It was downright humiliating. He was almost a man and he’d never gone out with a girl.
He was always the good and dutiful son. Always came home on time, did his work when told, gave her no cause for concern, but still it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t study at an out of state university or even live in the dorm like Marie. “Look how she turned out,” his mother reminded him when he told her he wanted to live in the dorm like she had. He’d have to find a way around that.
He left his room and went to the kitchen for a snack, then turned on the TV and saw a popular teen-comedy. Soon he was laughing and his anger slipped away, and then he got an
idea.
An idea that would eventually send him to the emergency room.
35
“I saw a young man in the ER who looked so much like you he could have been your brother,” Vera told Catherine at dinner. The two women were alone because Noah was away on a business trip.
“Really?” Catherine said cutting into her curried cauliflower. “Is he okay?”
“Yes,” she said with a giggle. “He did some damage, but he’ll heal.”
“What happened?”
“He got cozy with a pie.”
Catherine frowned, confused. “Cozy?”
“Intimate.”
“How do you get intimate with a pie?”
“Let’s just say when some young men get bored with using their hands, they find other things.”
Catherine nodded, finally understanding. “Oh, what went wrong?”
“He didn’t let the pie cool.”
Catherine winced. “Ouch.”
“Exactly. But not as bad as one guy who tried a bowl of steaming noodles.” She shook her head. “Not a smart move.”
“They should just stick with bottles.”
“And make sure they’re not too small. I could tell you stories about that.”
Catherine couldn’t help a laugh. “I guess anything can be dangerous. They should just stick with their hands.”
“Poor kid was so embarrassed. His mother was the one who brought him in.”
Catherine briefly closed her eyes. “He’s scarred for life.”
“Maybe literally,” Vera said with another giggle.
“You shouldn’t laugh.”
“You would have if you’d seen this woman. She looked as if she’d stepped from a fashion magazine and was horrified by the incident, but kept her nose held high as if she smelled something distasteful.”
Catherine paused. The description sounded familiar. Something her stepmother wo
uld have done. But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?
“He’ll recover,” Vera continued.
“Why did you bring him up?” Catherine asked, wanting to focus on the important issue.
“Because he reminded me of you for some reason.”
Catherine sent her a sharp look. “What reason?”
Vera sipped her wine. “He looked like you, that’s all.”
“Like me?”
“Yes, there was something about him that seemed familiar to me. He could have been your brother. He doesn’t look like your father though, but neither do you. However, he definitely resembled you.”
She licked her lip. “What was his name?”
“Sorry, can’t tell you that.”
“Is he still in the hospital?”
“He did a fair amount of damage so he’ll need another day of recovery.”
One day. She had time to see him and she planned to.
Finding what room the young man was in was remarkably easy. People knew her at the hospital and she knew how to get the information she needed. Catherine walked to his room, but stopped outside his door when she heard voices.
“You should be more careful next time,” a male voice said.
“This is why Mom told you not to play sports,” a female voice added.
Catherine didn’t recognize the voices.
The young man’s voice was more mumbled, but she would imagine it would be. She could imagine his embarrassment. They spoke a few moments more, then she heard their footsteps. She stepped to the side and watched them exit. A woman who looked as if she were expecting and a man who looked older than he should with bent shoulders and thinning hair: Lorna and Greg! She knew they had two children, but didn’t realize they were expecting another. She had to plan carefully. But that was for later. She waited until they’d turned the corner, then entered the room.
She saw the teenager staring out the window. When he turned to her, she saw her father as a young man. He had the same strong brow and full mouth.