Nina hopped in the shower, hoping somehow that the water would erase away the guilt and confusion she felt. There was no denying her father was making a positive impact in the community. He told her during that awful fight at her in-laws’ anniversary celebration that what he does matters, and he was right. So who was she to interfere with his important work by insisting he be held accountable for what he did to her?
She was gearing up for the fight of her life and it was now clear the lives that would be impacted weren’t confined to just family and friends. The news story she just heard proved that. But she also struggled with her own demons: how could she? What if she lost? What would that do to her? Worse than the answers to those questions was the idea of Phillip Copeland walking around, free to torment her another time, another place, or worse yet, turn his attention to some unsuspecting young girl. It had to end with her.
Her husband and mother ganged up on her and convinced her she needed to seek counseling. It was her own fault for having a meltdown when she came to the conclusion that her father never really loved her. All the hatred and resentment she’d built up inside over the years were simply protective gear. The most confusing part for her was wondering how she could want a monster to love her. That’s when she realized she really needed her head examined.
* * *
A YEAR AGO HE WAS a man with endless possibilities. He had a bright political future ahead of him, he was unstoppable. Now he was holed up in his study, shattered, disbelieving, hope quickly fading. He was free falling and didn’t know where or how he would land. The lies his daughter was spreading about him had taken on a life of their own. Ben had called him two days ago to tell him there was a rumor going around he was being accused of rape, and his supporters, the people who could make his dream of becoming Governor come true, were abandoning him in droves. There would be no big announcement of his candidacy before the Boston press. He had even hinted to his favorite reporters at the Boston Sentinel and Channel 5 that he would make a big announcement soon and left them to speculate.
His wife moved out of their home. She told him she’d be moving back to England because she couldn’t take the shame and humiliation of being associated with a man accused of such a heinous crime. Wasn’t it just like a woman to run out when she got whatever she could from a man? They all had a price: his daughters, his wives, his mistresses, all the same.
He was halfway through his second bottle of vodka when there was a knock at the door. It must be Cassie. She’d come back from visiting her mother the week before and had been tiptoeing around him ever since. He didn’t feel like talking to anybody right now, but she already knew he was in, so it was pointless to pretend otherwise.
He must look worse than he thought; the expression on her face was shock. He took another swig of vodka.
“Yes?”
Cassie panicked. “I can come back later.”
“You already disturbed me, so say what you have to say and stop wasting my time.”
He knew it sounded mean but he couldn’t help it. Cassie was sweet and always believed in him. He could use an ally right about now.
He softened his voice. “What’s on your mind, Cassie?”
“What Nina said, it’s not true, right? I mean, why would she say something so awful about you? Why, Dad?”
“You’ve been talking to Nina?”
“She called me and said we needed to talk. So we went out to dinner and she said you… you…”
“I know what she told you, and no, it’s not true.”
“Then why would she say such nasty things? She kept saying I was blind in my devotion to you and one day the awful truth would come out for everybody to hear. What’s she talking about?”
“What did you say to her when she was telling you those lies?”
“I told her I didn’t believe her and she needed to stop saying those things.”
Phillip smiled, a real smile. “Good girl. I knew I could count on you. You’re the only person who hasn’t abandoned me, Cassie, and I want you to know how important it is to me. There are people out there who don’t want me to run for Governor, and it’s possible one of them is using your sister to ruin my reputation with these ugly lies. Thanks for defending me.”
* * *
DR. ISSLER’S OFFICE WAS LOCATED in an office building on a tree-lined street in Wellesley, a wealthy suburb west of Boston. She was younger than Nina expected, early forties with hazel eyes and a bad case of adult acne. Her body language exuded a compassionate yet no-nonsense attitude Nina immediately liked.
Her office had just the right touches: not too cluttered, but enough knick knacks to make it welcoming. Her desk was neat, not a file out of place.
“What brings you to therapy, Nina?”
The direct approach was just fine with her. “I need to stop choking on my past, and accept certain realities.”
“It sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Over twenty years’ worth.”
Dr. Issler put on her glasses and she glanced through her notes. “What’s your relationship with your father like now?”
“I don’t know if there’s a word or phrase to describe it. To say we’re enemies would be an oversimplification of a complex relationship. For me, that is. I can’t speak for him.”
“I see. How does that translate into your feelings for him?”
Nina shifted uncomfortably. This should be a simple answer but it wasn’t, to her chagrin.
“I still struggle with my feelings. Going back and forth between what is and what isn’t; what I want that relationship to be and what it can never be.”
“What do you want it to be?”
Nina hesitated. Mostly because she didn’t want to sound ridiculous, like some orphaned kid who longed to have real parents again, no matter how remote the possibility. “I just want him to see me. I want him to care enough to be sorry.”
“Why do you think he’s not sorry?”
“His attitude. He doesn’t like to be challenged. When I left for Stanford, it was an open defiance to his authority. He had no say in the matter. By leaving when he wasn’t expecting it, I stripped him of his power over my life.”
“Putting aside his attempts to regain control when he reappeared in your life a year ago, and everything that has happened since, do you think he would want the opportunity to start over if you gave him that chance?”
“I thought I caught a glimpse of what he could be as a father. What might have been possible. But now, I’m not so sure.”
“Can you provide a bit more detail?”
“During the argument that led to my miscarriage, he said he was worried about me at school because I never called or wrote, and he had to send someone to keep an eye on me to make sure I was safe. He also said I was selfish, because my sister Cassie was devastated when I left, and I never gave any thought to how my leaving might have impacted her.”
“Do you agree with his assessment that you were selfish for not considering your sister?”
“Coming from anyone else, perhaps. But not from him. His motives for doing or saying anything are never pure.”
“Do you regret the way you left?”
“I regret the circumstances that caused me to leave my home and venture out into the world all alone. It was a survival tactic, but it worked. Sort of.”
Dr. Issler looked through the notes again. “When Phillip first reappeared in your life, he threatened to disclose his identity to your husband if you didn’t do what he asked. Why didn’t you do what he asked?”
“Simple. He wanted control again. I refused to give it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He knows people who could do what he was asking. He didn’t just show up in my office because he saw me on a magazine cover.”
“Tell me about the magazine cover.”
“It’s a publication focused on corporate leadership. I made the cover of their annual ‘Forty Under Forty’ issue.”
“That’s impressive.”
“That’s what he said.”
“He complimented you on your achievement?”
“He did.”
“Do you think he was proud of you?”
Nobody knew how much time and energy she had dedicated to obsessing over whether or not he was proud of her, whether he knew how well she was doing on her own, all the while, still loathing him.
“At that point, his approval didn’t matter. They were just empty words.”
“Fair enough. You built a good life for yourself without his help and free of his influence. How did that change when he suddenly reappeared?”
“Outwardly I was strong, defiant, but inside, I was falling apart. He made me think about things I didn’t want to, brought back memories I thought I had buried long ago. He basically disrupted the lie I was living.”
Dr. Issler shook her head in the affirmative in solidarity with Nina. She took a sip of her vitamin water and cleared her throat.
“Why was it important to keep his identity a secret from your husband?”
“He’s poison.”
Doctor Issler thought about that for a minute. “Is that the only reason?”
“What other reason would there be?”
“You have to be fearless if this is going to work, Nina.”
She knew coming to therapy meant she had to go to some gruesome places, but she deserved to maintain some level of dignity, didn’t she? “He’s into head games. He would try to diminish me in my husband’s eyes out of spite.”
“But you wouldn’t allow him to do that, would you?”
“He doesn’t think I have the guts to take him on. He told me I’m not ruthless enough.”
“Is he right?”
It was a question that had occupied many of Nina’s thoughts, and she still didn’t have a concrete answer. “There is no easy answer. I have a conscience and he doesn’t. I think about the impact any action I may take would have on others; he doesn’t. He’s a lot more selfish than I am.”
There was silence in the room as Dr. Issler gave Nina a chance to collect her thoughts. Nina considered the ramifications of what was just discussed. She questioned for what seemed like the hundredth time if she had what it took to move forward with prosecuting her own father. Was there any legal precedence for this kind of situation?
Doctor Issler started up again. “This next series of questions may be especially uncomfortable to talk about, but I assure you, they need to be addressed in order to help facilitate your healing.”
Nina was guarded in her response. “I’ll do my best to answer the questions truthfully. But I reserve the right to put the brakes on.”
Dr. Issler nodded. “How has the abuse affected your relationship with your husband?”
“In what context?”
“Victims of sexual abuse often have intimacy issues. Some find intercourse revolting because it’s a reminder of the incest. Others engage in promiscuous behavior as a way to gain the affection they never got from the aggressor, sometimes as a means of self-degradation or punishment.”
“If you’re asking which category I fall into, the answer is none of them.”
“How would you describe your sex life with your husband, or men in general before you got married?”
“Great and non-existent.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“That’s all you’re getting from me.”
Dr. Issler looked like an investigative reporter who had just stumbled on a story that could make a Pulitzer Prize-winning career. She leaned forward and lowered her glasses to the tip of her nose.
“Why?”
“I’m here. That should be at least one point in the fearless column.”
“Are you embarrassed to talk about sex?”
“I don’t have intimacy issues,” Nina insisted.”
Dr. Issler looked continued to push. “Did you date in college? Is that how you met your husband?”
“No, I didn’t meet Marc in college. And since you won’t let this go, I didn’t date anyone in college.”
“Why not?”
“You’re the expert.”
“You wanted control. For the first time, you were away from daddy, on your own, free to make your own decisions, including the decision of who to have sex with. It was your way of controlling your body, deciding who would have access to it and who wouldn’t. You were punishing him by depriving the men who were interested in your affection.”
Dr. Issler’s observation couldn’t be more accurate if she were sitting right next to Nina in one of her classes at Stanford. The scenario she just described was one Nina had almost forgotten. In her junior year, Jeff Wilson, a classmate in her global business management course was notorious for tormenting her for her lack of cooperation in the less is best wardrobe department.
“If you would lose the nun get-up, a tank top and miniskirt would do wonders for you,” he said mischievously. “I’m just saying, you have to let your skin breathe.”
Nina had given him the scathing, scornful look she had perfected, but he remained unfazed.
“I’m concerned for your health. And why are you wound tighter than a snare drum, anyway? Tell you what, because I’m such a caring guy, how about I come over to your dorm room later and help you relax and release, if you catch my drift?”
Jeff received a kick in the crotch for his trouble but it didn’t dissuade him from his pursuit, which lasted right up until graduation. “I won’t soon forget you Nina Copeland. You’re one tough cookie.”
“They were all pigs, only interested in one thing,” Nina complained to her therapist. “I wouldn’t allow them to use me the way he did.”
“What made your husband different from all the other pigs?”
“We wanted the same things, and he was patient.”
“Patient how?”
“He was attracted to me, but he wasn’t aggressive. He put my feelings first.”
“How did you know you were ready to be intimate with him?”
“Have you seen Marc?” Nina joked. “I couldn’t hold out forever.”
Dr. Issler chuckled. “So you still had a healthy view of sex?”
“I wasn’t about to let what happened to me rob me of the capacity to enjoy one of the most basic human experiences. I’ve never connected with any man sexually the way I did with Marc. We’re compatible in a lot of ways.”
“And you didn’t want your father to get in the way of your happiness?”
“Right. He used to tell me no man would want me because I was damaged.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“I believed him. That’s why I worked so hard to keep him away from Marc. I didn’t want my husband’s opinion of me to change.”
“What about now? Do you still feel that way?”
Nina laughed nervously. “I’m in therapy. I think that pretty much says it all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nina was running late for her session with Dr. Issler. She grabbed her car keys off the kitchen counter and was headed to the garage when the house phone rang. She ignored it but the ringing seemed to demand her attention. Against her better judgment, she picked up.
“Hello?”
“How could you do this to Dad?”
Nina was in a rush and had neither the time nor the desire to get into a shouting match over the phone.
“Cassie, I’m late for an appointment. Can we talk later?”
“Listen to me. You have to convince Geraldine to go back to Dad. He’s freaking out and I’m scared for him, Nina.”
“He created his own problems.”
“Are you denying she left because of you?”
“No.”
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I don’t owe either one of you an explanation.”
“Get over yourself, Nina.”
“Tell that to your father.”
“My father? So you’re too good to be his daughter
all of a sudden?”
“Yes.”
“He was right about you. You don’t care about anyone except yourself. After everything he did for you, this is the thanks he gets?”
“It’s time to wake up, Cassie.”
“I’m wide awake and I see how mean you really are.”
“Open your eyes and see him for the selfish, manipulative sociopath that he is.”
“Stop it!” Cassie screamed into the phone. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it. I already explained to you the best way I knew how what he did to me. I’m sorry you’re struggling with the truth.”
There was silence on the other line. Nina was afraid something had happened to Cassie. Could she have fainted?
“Cassie, are you there?”
“I-I-I d-don’t… you’re wrong. Dad would never hurt us, Nina. Why are you doing this?”
“I have to, Cassie.”
“Dad loves us.”
“He loves you.”
Nina felt resentment gnawing at her insides, threatening to rise up and strangle her. Therapy was going to be a long, painful ride.
After apologizing profusely for being late, Nina took charge of the session.
“I just had a huge fight with my sister,” she told Dr. Issler. “She’s still in denial. I’m now the bad guy.”
“What started the fight?”
“Phillip’s life is falling apart. His wife left him and Cassie blames me.”
“Is she right?”
“Sort of.”
“Care to expand on that?”
“I told her about the abuse. I also provided information about an illegitimate child he fathered and never bothered to tell her about.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I got tired. I didn’t want to be pushed around anymore.”
“Why won’t your sister believe you?
Conspiracy of Silence Page 15