by S. L. Scott
Surprised by the question, I lift up on my elbow, and look at him. “Me? Why are you asking about me?”
“Because you’re trembling.”
“I was?”
“Yes. Are you okay?”
Stumbling over my words, I can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that my body betrayed me. “I’m okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“It’s okay. Just checking to make sure.”
I exhale a deep breath I’d just taken and lie down, cuddling into the nook of his arm while trying to calm my racing heart.
“Last year, I was kidnapped. King . . . I mean, Alex, had been taken. Sara Jane and I were putting a plan in place when I was hijacked and thrown into a room with a small window in it, with him. It’s funny because I don’t remember being scared at that point. I was just relieved to see him alive. That relief didn’t last long.”
His body has tensed, his arm around me tightened. The air around us thickened with dread. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear his story, but he heard mine, so I’ll do my damnedest to be what he needs. I whisper, “You don’t have to relive anything for me, but maybe it will help to relieve some of the pain you hold inside.”
Removing his arm, he pushes himself up until his back hits the headboard. When I sit up, he pushes a button that turns on a lamp across the room. The room is still dim, but inviting in the golden glow. Comforting in an unexpected way for the early morning hour.
He says, “Every night I was taken out of that room and down a corridor to what I discovered later was an emptied broom closet. At first I walked, indignant and full of fucking pride. They weren’t going to get the best of me. I had to hold my own . . . every night I was beaten and kicked. I was struck with a metal rod some nights and other nights, my captor would punch the living shit out of me until I was lying on my back, drowning in my own blood.” He coughs and his hand covers his throat as if the mention of it makes it real again.
Maybe it does. How? How did he survive that? Maybe we shouldn’t visit the ghosts of our haunted pasts. Maybe that’s been the mistake I’ve been making all along. We should hide our secrets, bury them deep inside a locked chest nowhere near our hearts. Maybe that’s the only way to truly survive.
I wish it were dark again. I’m not strong enough to hide my horror. My tears won’t be kept at bay. I break down in the soft glow of his bedroom, dropping my head into my hands and cry.
When he pulls me against him, I feel his strength. “Shhhh,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” Moving his hand around my back, he strokes my arm, as he continues, “I’m here. See? We’re two survivors of horrific acts that were meant to kill us, but we’re here together. And I think that’s why I was spared in the end, why I was saved when I should have died.” I can’t stop from shaking, my body wracked with sorrow for him. I hate whoever did that to him, hate—
“Hey, look at me.” Cruise’s voice snaps me from my anger toward someone I don’t know. I now understand the anger he felt toward my father, why he took on my pain to help me heal. Looking into his soulful eyes while wiping away my tears, I don’t want to be weak when he’s so strong. “No one should ever be hurt like you were.”
His finger covers my lips. “Your heart is so big, but it doesn’t need to bleed for me. I was going to say, I think I was saved because I was meant to meet you.”
Through watery eyes I see the beauty of this man is deeper than his handsome face. I burst into tears. His words are just as perfect as he is. His soul is so good. I hope that one day, I can be the woman he deserves.
16
Cruise
My pretty little dove has the softest heart despite the heartache she’s had in her life. How is she real? How is she mine?
She’s given me the freedom and peace to share all that I’d hidden, all that I refused to acknowledge and bring into the light. As if I can’t stop myself, I continue to let my thoughts ramble as we sit across the dining room table from each other eating breakfast before she has to leave. “It didn’t matter what they did to me. I realized I had to live because as long as I did, Sara Jane did.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was tortured to torture Alex. They’d go after Sara Jane next because that would destroy him. So as long as I lived, she did, which meant he did.”
The tears have long ago dried and her plate is now empty. She sips her coffee, but stops when I share my revelation. Her eyes are wide in astonishment, the sunrise revealing the gold and greens melding together in the most stunning of combinations. “You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met.” To me she’s seeing her own reflection.
“I’m no angel.”
Reaching across the table, she slips her hand under mine and tickles my palm. “You’re not the devil either. I know you believe you’re bad. Maybe you were told this growing up, but it’s all lies. I just wish you could see how good you are. I wish you could see how I see you.”
I take her hand and hold it. “I feel the same about you.”
She stands and comes around. Kissing the top of my head, she then bends to kiss me on the mouth. I love her mouth. I love listening to the words when she speaks and watching her tongue glide across her lips, wetting them for me. I love her mouth on me. Just as I pull her closer, holding her for as long as I can, she says, “I have to go.”
“I want you to stay.”
With a little laugh that makes my heart sing, she runs her nails into my hair. “I wish I could, but I have to go or I’ll be late for work.”
“I’ll drive you home.”
“My car is here. I need it to get to work and then I have class later. Maybe I can see you tonight?”
Wrapping my arms around her slight waist, I rest my head against her belly. “I’m not sure when I’m leaving.”
“Do you have to go?” Her hands on me cause me to wish I were staying.
As much as I think I could be happy here with her, I’m not whole enough to be all she needs. “Yes.” Leaning back, I take her hands in mine. I shouldn’t burden her with my concerns. She has enough going on to keep her mind occupied. “I need to take care of some personal business, but I’ll keep you posted. You need to leave or you’ll be late. I’ll talk to you about it when I get back, okay?”
She nods before leaning down and kissing me. “Goodbye, my handsome haven.”
Haven. Safe haven. I’ll be that for her, or I’ll die trying.
The front door opens. I stand up, my heart racing toward the sun. I don’t want her to go, not like this. “Hey Dove?” She looks back and steals the breath right from my chest. When that pretty smile appears on her face, the words start to flow from my heart to my lips, but at the last second, I choke them back down. “I care about you.”
Recognition comes slowly. First her eyes look at me quizzically and then her head tilts. She knows what I’m unable to say. She knows how I feel without the words.
Her voice gives her away when it goes froggy and she has to clear it. “You care about me?”
I hate her uncertainty. I slowly cross the room, a breath coming with every step, and stand in front her, my heart in my hands, willingly sacrificing it for her. “I do. A lot.”
With tears in her eyes, she says, “I care about you, too, Cruise. With all my heart.” Reaching around my neck to hold on, she lifts up on her tiptoes. “Promise to come back to me.”
“Nothing could keep me away.” Digging my nose into her hair, I memorize her scent and the feel of her body in my arms. I take note that the top of her head only reaches the bottom of my nose, and then add, “You should go before I decide to keep you here all day.” My smile is genuine and light, just how she makes me feel on the inside.
Yellow.
This time I watch as she walks out that door. It doesn’t feel final. It feels like a new beginning, making me smile in the most goofy way. It’s good to know I have her to come back to. Especially since I might be facing the people who wanted nothing to do with me, or find nothing at all.
>
But I have to go. I need answers so I can move on.
Disappointment is too comfortable a state when I’m around my parents. I think my mother believes she can change me. Serve enough clotted cream and crumpets and suddenly I’ll turn into Prince William. I sit in all black, owning the title of disappointment to a T. She’s dressed in a light blue suit that matches the tearoom walls.
Our teacups are filled for the second time since we arrived an hour ago. The tray of finger sandwiches and biscuits has been picked over. Just to point out that I’m not a total slacker, I say, “I’m surprised you wanted to do afternoon tea before noon. You rebel, you.”
My mother laughs as if I’ve said the most hilarious thing she’s ever heard. I’m thinking it’s put on for others rather than for my benefit. “Oh, John. You’re incorrigible.” She’s right, but I don’t feel the need to back the claim since we’ve been getting along so well.
Returning to business, I tap the brown folder between us on the tiny lace-covered table. “So all I get is New Haven?” Haven. The irony isn’t lost on me. I’m starting to see a pattern.
“That’s all the adoption file has listed. This was all we were given regarding your parents, but it’s more than most, John.”
“You had four kids. Why did you want to adopt another?”
“I remember that clearly. I was lunching with a friend who had read about a baby found on church steps. My heart hurt hearing the story. The pain for this little abandoned child lingered long after lunch and I called the Senator. I had wanted to go back to school for my degree. I think he preferred me home, so he had his office track down the agency handling your case.”
“Case? That’s so clinical.”
“It sounds that way, but it didn’t feel that way. When I saw you, I knew you were meant to be mine. It wasn’t clinical. It was love. You smiled at me and after I fed you a bottle, you fell asleep right here.” She pats her chest. “There was paperwork involved, but it was as if I’d given birth to you myself.” She pours cream into her teacup and stirs, seemingly lost in her thoughts. “You always did love solving mysteries.”
I reach over and cover her hand with mine, stopping her from the absentminded action. “This is nothing more than me finding out where I came from and who I came from.” I sit back and she watches me, sadness finding her eyes and reflecting her heart. She wasn’t perfect. Fuck, I know that. We all know that, but neither was I. So I’m in no position to judge her. Maybe she mothered the only way she knew how. I can forgive her for that.
As for the Senator, fuck him.
“Listen, Mom, this does not take away from your role in my life. You’re my mom. That’s the bottom line. I was a handful but you still made sure I had all the necessities and gave me the best opportunities I could get. I was a baby in a basket who was brought into a home with more than I could ever want or need.” I could have used more hugs, but I feel weak admitting that to myself much less to her. When her eyes well up, I quickly add, “I love you.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize I’m not saying this just for her, though I hope it makes her feel better. I need to tell her because maybe this will bridge that distance that’s kept us emotionally apart for so many years.
“I love you, John. I’m sorry I failed you so many times, but know that I always loved, and still love you so much.”
“I know, Mom. I do.”
She dabs the corners of her eyes with the cloth napkin, then laughs. “I’m a silly old woman. Your great-grandmother always told me that one day my errors would find daylight, and I’d have regrets. She told me to do things right the first time around so I wasn’t wasting my golden years making amends. I never was good at listening to sage advice. If I were, I would have married Adam Blum.”
What? “What?”
She laughs and if I’m not mistaken it’s more like giggles. “I shouldn’t have said anything but everyone who ever held that secret has died except for me.”
I don’t even know what’s happening, but I’m seeing my mom as a woman for the first time. She’s a woman who has lived a life besides being the mother to five children and the obedient wife of a politician. “I’ll carry your secrets.”
“How about you carry them once I’ve moved to the next life. I want to travel lighter next round, less baggage to hold in my heart.”
I shake her hand and look her in the eyes. “I promise.”
“Adam was a lovely man. I met him when I was fifteen. He was seventeen.” She smiles with raised eyebrows and a look of mischievousness in her eyes. “It was quite the scandal back then.”
“Because of the age difference?”
“No, because of my family. He was quiet. I was outgoing. He was responsible. I was carefree. He was Jewish. I was from a devout Protestant family. I fell in love the minute I saw him.”
“Mom, none of us ever knew.”
“It was best that no one did because all good things must come to an end. My mother found out, which meant my grandmother knew. The irony was that my grandmother slipped me five thousand dollars and told me to run away and marry him when I was seventeen.”
Wow. She could have lived an entirely different life. Wonder if that’s one of her regrets. “I don’t know what to say.” She was a rebel. Maybe we’re more alike than I ever knew. Maybe I’m not just made up of genes from strangers, but of traits that I learned, a bond that carries deeper than emotion, but is a part of me. “Why did you stay?”
“Because everyone had big plans for me and I wasn’t brave enough to fight for what I wanted.” A small smile still manages to shine through her sad words. “He was gentle, and called me his wildflower. The last time I ever saw him was through a sitting room window, peeking out. Adam was standing outside my parents’ front door with drooping daisies in his hand, being brave enough for the both of us. The door was slammed in his face and I was sent to my room without dinner, crying.”
“I can tell you loved him, so why was that the last time you saw him?”
“The Senator’s family made a deal at my debutante ball. I was sixteen at the time. I spent the next year fending him off when our parents weren’t looking, and seeing Adam secretly. Once, I even told the senator no, that I was in love with another boy.”
“What happened?”
“I ended up in an arranged engagement a week later, an asset traded to the highest bidder.”
“But you stayed with him. You had four kids and me with him.”
She sighs as if the moment has passed, much like her love for Adam. “I may be sharing a secret, but it’s no secret that I love your father. We’ve had our ups and downs. What couple hasn’t? But he’s provided a good life for me and for all of you. He worked hard and only ever broke one promise to me.”
“He broke a vow.” Why? Why is that acceptable to her? That’s not good enough. For me, or her.
She looks at me with sad eyes, but I also see acceptance. How many have there been? I would never humiliate her by asking, but I need her to know that I didn’t know. Not until his mention of Celeste. The bastard.
“Mom, I didn’t know. I swear. I didn’t—”
“John, stop. What’s a vow in comparison to the beautiful life I’ve led? We’ve led?” There is much more depth to this woman than I knew. I’m in awe. Her strength. Her poise. It wasn’t because she was a snob and thought herself one of the elite. It was for her own self-worth and dignity. I want to argue, to tell her that vows, like promises, matter. But it will fall on deaf ears. She hasn’t left him yet. It’s clear to see she has no intentions to do so otherwise. So I say the only thing I know to say. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry, John?”
“I’m sorry that you’ve lived a life without true love.”
She smiles. “That’s not true. I knew what true love was for two years, and those two years have sustained me for a lifetime. As I said earlier, I look to lead a lighter life in the next. Less things and more love.” She stands, dropping her napkin to
the plush pink chair. “That file has everything I know about your past. I wish it were more.” Touching my cheek, she smiles. “I may not have given birth to you, but I feel so fortunate to have been a part of your life and to watch you grow into the man you are today. Your loyalty and integrity are truly a sight to behold.”
“I will never break a vow.”
“I know you won’t. That’s why you’re better than the Senator or I could ever be.” Squeezing my shoulder, she also picks up her handbag. “Fill your life with love. And if it helps bring some peace, we never took you out of the will.”
I chuckle. I have more money than she knows about, made a life for myself off my street smarts and the education I pursued on my own. But I can tell she finds satisfaction in the fact that the Senator won’t get his way if anything happens to the asshole.
Standing up, I kiss my mom on the cheek and then hug her. I almost don’t recognize the woman I just spent an hour talking to. This is my mother, but more so, she showed me the real person beneath the name. She showed me who she really is, shared with me her dreams, and trusted me with her secrets. I’ll never forget it. “Thank you for taking a baby that had nothing and giving him everything he would ever need to be a good man.”
“I’ll happily take credit as your mother. You’re a son to be proud of by any mother. I need to scoot. I have a meeting I’m going to be late for.”
“Well, I won’t keep you. I know you hate to be late.”
“It was worth it, Cruise.”
Cruise? It’s the first time she’s ever called me by my chosen name. I drop back down in the chair and watch her leave the tearoom, smiling from ear to ear. I never wanted my parents’ approval, but today it feels a lot like I just got hers. And it feels good.
17
Clara
Baynard Preparatory. Top ten prep school in America, rivaling most colleges with the education provided and the résumé of the professors. I’ve only been student teaching a couple months, but long enough to know that this is the future elite, or elitist, depending on my mood, of America. There is no middle ground when it comes to the students here.