The Effing List

by Cherise Sinclair

  They were her children, who she loved with all her heart. She’d carried them, birthed them, nursed them. She’d fought for them and taught them. Cried when Hailey had first said, “Mama.” Stayed up all night whenever one of them was ill. Read stories to them every night, helping them sound out the words so they’d been able to read even before kindergarten.

  And now…

  The pain was overwhelming as if each rib in her chest had cracked under the blow. She cried in the shower—and then pounded her fist on the wall because she’d raised them better than this.

  Wet hair in tangles, dressed in cut-offs and a loose T-shirt, she folded down in her tiny meditation corner. The scent of frankincense drifted through the air. A gull cried from outside as thunder growled in the distance. The scent of moist air from rain over the Gulf of Mexico swept in from the open balcony door.

  She set her open hands on her thighs and pulled in a slow, deep breath. If nothing else, her life had taught her how to handle pain. How to reach tranquility so reasonable solutions could be found.

  Emptying her mind, she let the world fade away.

  That evening, she was ready to think calmly about the mess. It would take a lot of thought to sort out this tangle. There were too many players involved. Too much hurt and anger.

  She mustn’t react without careful consideration.

  Hoping to get more information, she’d tried to call Hailey. Her daughter didn’t answer. Texts received no response.

  Frustrated anger made her want to do something equally childish, like texting, “Never call me again. I have no children.”

  Although momentarily gratifying, a final break wasn’t the solution she wanted.

  Now, what was she going to do?

  A light tap on the door lifted her hopes. Hailey? Dillon? Finn?

  Without checking the peephole, she yanked open the door—and her spirits fell.

  Linda and Olivia stood together.

  Linda’s expression held sympathy. “I’m sure you were hoping to see repentant children, but you’re stuck with us. May we come in?”

  “I’m sorry. Of course.” Valerie motioned them in. “You mentioned my children. How did…”

  Linda moved her shoulders. “Ghost sent me.”

  Simply hearing his name warmed her. “I see.”

  “And Z sent Olivia.”

  Valerie’s eyes widened. “Master Z?”

  “It seems he saw you leaving Ghost’s office and asked what happened,” Linda said.

  “Of course he asked. The man’s a snoopy shrink as well as a Dom.” Olivia moved into the kitchen. “My mum believes hot tea will improve any disaster. May I make us some?”

  Valerie blinked. “Ah…certainly. There’s a selection in the corner.” The Domme looked determined—and tea would be good, since it appeared they planned to stay awhile.

  After setting a large tote bag on the counter, Olivia filled Valerie’s electric tea kettle with water from the dispenser and set it to boil. She took a moment to examine the tea collection, then nodded in satisfaction. “We have the same tastes, don’t we?”

  Since Olivia appeared comfortable brewing tea, Valerie went to the living room and picked her notepad and cardigan off the sofa. She gestured to Linda. “Please, make yourself at home.”

  Linda sat down. “So, I know you’d mentioned your children are adults. How old are they?”

  “Dillon is twenty-four and single. Hailey is twenty-five, married, and my grandson recently turned two.” Valerie felt as if a boulder was sitting on her ribcage. “If Ghost talked to you, then you know my children said if I don’t return to Barry, I’ll never see them again.”

  A snort came from the kitchen. “Our so-called loved ones know where to jab in the knife, don’t they?”

  Linda sighed. “They do. The trick is to be smart enough to reach them before they cause too much damage. To us and themselves.”

  Too late. The damage is done.

  Linda pointed to a chair. “Sit, before you collapse.”

  “How old are your children, Linda?” Valerie sank down onto the chair.

  “My son graduated from college last year and works in St. Petersburg. My daughter has another year to go.”

  Olivia brought out three steaming mugs of tea. “Here we go.”

  Valerie took a sip, then another. “This has more than tea in it.” Along with the orange Pekoe tea, there was a healthy shot of spiced rum, a touch of honey, and… “Cognac?”

  “Best hot tea grog ever.” Olivia settled in a chair with her own mug.

  Linda sampled. “Very nice.”

  After a second, Valerie rose and brought out the cookie tin of shortbread she’d made for Ghost. “Alcohol and sugar—universal remedies, right?”

  “Bloody right.” Olivia nibbled on a shortbread strip and smiled her approval. “Z suggested I talk with you. I’ve been through something similar—someone withholding affection to get their way.”

  Olivia didn’t have children, did she? Valerie gave her a confused look.

  “My father decided a lesbian daughter would destroy his standing in town. If I wanted to be in the family, I needed to marry a nice young man. Otherwise, I had to stay away.”

  Linda stared. “That’s horrible. How old were you?”

  “Eighteen, done with sixth form, and thought since I was an adult, it was time to stop hiding who I was.”

  Olivia’s brown eyes held so much pain Valerie wanted to cry for her. Leaning forward, she took the woman’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how such an ultimatum must have hurt.”

  “Yes.” Olivia’s English accent grew stronger. “We all know that pain, don’t we? The hurt of someone saying we must behave according to their rules, or their love will be withheld.”

  Valerie closed her eyes as the words hit home. That was…exactly…what Dillon had said. “What did you do?”

  “I told him he and the family could piss off, and I left. I ran all the way to the States.” Olivia tilted her head down as if her tea was the most interesting thing in the world. “Leaving my mum and siblings, my friends…it was hard.”

  Valerie blinked. “When my parents and I had a final falling-out, I mourned them—even though they never loved me. It must have been so rough on you. Did you ever hear from them again?”

  “That’s what I wanted to share.” Olivia cupped her hands around her tea mug. “I waited a couple of years and called, but Dad answered the phone and was furious. Said I was breaking Mum’s heart.”

  “What a jerk,” Linda muttered. “Laying his guilt on you.”

  “I almost gave in. But the lifestyle is full of people who have suffered because of narrow-minded idiots like my father. Not all of them lose their families.” Olivia moved her shoulders. “I thought…maybe, just maybe…not everyone in my family felt the same way. Some might have been silent because Dad is overpowering. Some might not have even known what had happened.”

  “You went back,” Valerie guessed.

  “I did and found he hadn’t told anyone about his ultimatum. Everyone thought I’d simply up and left.”

  Linda gasped. “Why, the bastard.”

  “Yes. I explained why I left—and explained some more. After they realized I wasn’t lying, Dad was in for it.” She snorted. “He slept at my uncle’s place for a month before Mum let him come home.”

  “Serves him right.” Valerie wanted to reach across the ocean and smack the guy. “How awkward is it when you visit now?”

  “Not at all bad. A couple years ago, my uncle had a heart attack and decided he, too, was done with hiding and came out of the closet. My father was properly horrified to learn his brother and the farm manager had been lovers for years.”

  Valerie glanced at Linda, and they both snickered.

  Olivia smiled. “Almost losing his brother woke Dad up. Last time I was back, he apologized and had moved from being a complete prat into an ally. I’m rather proud of him, in fact.”

  Valerie sat back and
sipped her tea. Grog. Whatever. The heat of the drink with the slight buzz of alcohol was comforting.

  So was the presence of friends.

  Olivia had come simply to offer…hope. She’d been cut off from her family, yet what seemed final hadn’t been. People and their opinions could change.

  And love could survive.

  Valerie considered Olivia. “I take it Z knows about your past?”

  “He was the one who encouraged me to return.” Olivia snorted. “I cursed his name with every mile closer.”

  Linda chuckled. “I wonder how many of his patients do the same. So, for me… A while back, Sam told Ghost what I went through with my children.”

  “Sadists of the world—unite,” Olivia murmured.

  Valerie pulled in a breath, knowing she wasn’t going to like what followed.

  When Linda hesitated, Olivia stepped in, “Linda’s kids discovered she’d visited a BDSM club before she was kidnapped to be a sex slave. They acted like visiting a kink club justified her being grabbed. And then they learned she was sleeping with a sadist.”

  Even as Valerie’s mouth dropped open, Linda rolled her eyes. “Very succinct, Mistress Olivia.”

  It sounded like a nightmare. “Gods, I can only imagine how badly that went over.”

  Linda pointed a finger at her. “See? You get it. The only reason they didn’t call me a whole lot of ugly names was because Sam was there. I was so angry I kicked the lot of them out of my house. And after doing that, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see either of them again.” Her eyes reddened.

  Valerie slid over on the couch to put an arm around her. “But it worked out. Didn’t it?”

  Please let it have worked out. Linda never seemed sad when she spoke of her children.

  “It did. Sam took it on himself to force them to listen to everything I hadn’t shared with them. I’d thought some realities were too difficult for them to bear.” Linda’s gaze met Valerie’s. “I was wrong. If our families don’t know the whole truth, how can they separate lies from facts—or make the correct decisions?”

  Oh.

  “I see where you’re going with this.” Valerie rubbed her hands over her face. “Thinking about how angry Dillon and Hailey were and what they said, I know Barry told them some really ugly lies.”

  Linda nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  “But to fight back, I’d have to ruin their belief in their father.” Valerie sighed. But he’d done just that to her, now hadn’t he? “Actually, I’m not sure I can even convince them I’m the one telling the truth.”

  Her heart quailed.

  “It’s not my decision, but my opinion is you should try.” Olivia’s mouth tightened. “You have something else to consider. Lies or not, what your children are threatening isn’t right. It’s called emotional blackmail.”

  “Blackmail?”

  Linda nodded. “When toddlers and teens don’t get their way, they use the ‘I hate you, Mommy,’ And it really stings, doesn’t it?”

  “It does,” Valerie whispered. Perhaps it hurt her even more because she was particularly vulnerable to love being withdrawn.

  Her jaw set as she realized the ugliness of what Barry had created. “If my children said they found my behavior repellent and wanted to distance themselves, it would be one thing. But they’re withholding their love to get their way. Or, in this case, my ex’s way.”

  Linda nodded.

  Valerie turned to Olivia. “The same as what your father did with you.”

  “You see it now.”

  “My Sam…” Linda folded her hands in her lap. “He’d say a parent shouldn’t let a child get away with emotional manipulation. Because such behavior would sabotage their future relationships.”

  “Your Master is a hardass.” Smiling slightly, Olivia glanced at Valerie. “And, although quieter about it, so is the Colonel.”

  Ghost did have convictions about honesty. And about protecting her.

  Valerie’s next breath came easier. Although honoring her fears by staying away, he’d found her help. Because he loved her.

  And she loved him.

  Should her children be allowed to dictate who she loved and where she lived?

  No.

  No more than she would order them around.

  And if they would erase her from their lives without listening to her, she’d truly done a horrible job of raising them.

  But she wouldn’t judge, not at this point. First, they needed the facts. “Before I can combat Barry’s lies, I’ll need to get the children to see me. They aren’t even taking my calls.”

  “Brats,” Olivia’s eyes narrowed. After a minute, she said, “I doubt they’d be able to resist reading a certified letter.”

  “Perfect. As for getting them to see you in person”—Linda smiled cynically—“shame and remorse are feelings that should be spread around, don’t you think?”

  Valerie considered. “In other words, they’re not the only ones who can appeal to emotion.”

  “Exactly.” Linda nodded. “We parents are masters of the art of the guilt trip.”

  Olivia tilted her head. “After sending the letters, you might let them stew for a few days.”

  “I don’t have much choice. This is finals week followed by commencement.” After a heartening sip of grog, Valerie pulled her notepad forward. “I think I know how to do this.”

  By the time Linda and Olivia left, she had the letter.

  * * *

  My children,

  You’ve listened to what your father had to say about my various “crimes” and apparently, have convicted me without a hearing.

  I believe I should have an equal chance to speak.

  After all, I heard what you, Dillon, had to say after Hailey insisted you tried to drown her in the pool.

  I let you, Hailey, speak your piece when our neighbor said you’d deliberately run over her grandson’s tricycle.

  When your father insisted you’d both stolen his wallet and run up his credit cards, did I immediately convict you?

  Dillon, when your coach kicked you off the team for drinking, did I listen to all sides and then dig up the information to prove you were innocent?

  When Dillon told me that you, Hailey, had been shoplifting, did I call the police—or instead, ask you about it?

  I demand the same fairness I gave you. I want you to meet me on neutral ground and simply listen to what I have to say.

  Please meet me at noon, Sunday, at Lettuce Lake Park near your favorite playground.

  Mom

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  You’re getting old and set in your ways, Colonel.

  The next evening, Ghost sat outside and worked on his floggers. Beyond the pool of light, the world was pitch black except for brilliant flashes of lightning. Over the sound of rain pounding on the lanai’s roof, thunder boomed and growled.

  Unable to settle comfortably inside, he’d brought out the leather impact toys from the armoire as well as his bag. After cleaning and conditioning the toy bag, he started on the floggers.

  One by one, he conditioned the leather falls and lightly brushed the suede ones. The fragrance of conditioner and leather filled the air.

  Memories came and went. This lightweight flogger had been Kelly’s favorite. One made of heavy buffalo hide had made an older masochist very happy. The Latigo leather was his favorite for intense sessions. Valerie liked the regular-size moose leather.

  He reached for another flogger. Really, he should be grading the last few essays he’d brought home. But his students’ work deserved his complete attention…so this wasn’t the time. He’d tackle the papers first thing in the morning.

  Damn, he was tired. Last night he’d slept alone—and badly.

  All today, her absence and his worry about her had fragmented his calm.

  He loved waking up with her in the mornings, her soft body against his. Discussing the upcoming day over coffee. Teasing her into hitting him during her self-defense lessons—and seeing
her worry when she landed a good punch. The woman didn’t have a cruel bone in her body.

  She had enough service submissive in her she liked to cook for him, and if she was in the kitchen, well, she drew him like a moth to a candle, so he’d be there helping. They both ate healthier than when they’d lived alone. Kelly had disliked cooking. Now, he was discovering how fun it was to partner someone in the kitchen. Or to make her breakfast, since, God knew, the woman wasn’t at her best in the mornings.

  Last night, he’d put together a sandwich and called it good.

  Normally, she’d be with him here on the lanai. Enjoying the rain. Comparing notes on their days. Talking about everything. She was not only as smart and educated as he was, but her different view of life made for fascinating discussions on politics and economics and history.

  Yeah, he missed her.

  Finishing the last flogger, he cleaned off his hands in the lanai sink, then sank back down into his chair.

  Dammit, he wanted to be with her. Nevertheless, if she needed time to think, that’s what she’d get.

  But what if she needed him now? Would she be comfortable calling him…or would she be uncertain if he’d still want to be with her?

  He shook his head. Nice attempt to convince yourself to go see her, Colonel.

  His logic didn’t fly. Earlier in their relationship she’d been insecure, but what they had now was damn solid. He’d won her trust.

  He’d give her the time she needed.

  Not even five minutes later, he saw something move beyond the lanai.

  “Finn.” Carrying a plastic bag, Valerie opened the screen door and stepped out of the pouring rain.

  She was drenched, her green button-up shirt and khaki pants clinging to her. Her religious necklaces were around her neck—a crucifix, a pentagram, an Allah medallion, and a Shinto Torii gate. She was his favorite kind of quiet rabble-rouser.

  And she was here.

  “Valerie.” He rose.

  Even as he moved forward, she dropped her bag and met him partway. As he closed his arms around her, he felt as if he could finally take a full breath. “I missed you,” he said gruffly.

  She was hugging him as hard as he was her. “Me, too.”