by Debbie Civil
Chapter 21
Rain is lying in a hospital bed. Her hair is tied up in a ponytail, and she looks pale. I’m standing in the doorway watching as her parents softly speak to one another. I have no idea what’s going on with her. I managed to escape an hour after dinner. After I properly thanked Justin, Peter, and I walked him out. We split up when we got to the hospital. This is a divide and conquer mission. He went to see Carmen, and I went to Rain. My uncle Paul notices me first. His tired eyes fill with warmth. I don’t expect that. I figure that they will hate me. After all, this is all my fault. I should have been more cautious. But they don’t hate me. In fact, Aunt Ginger actually runs over to me and gives me a big hug. She drags me in, and Rain smiles up at me.
“Craig was here,” Rain announces. I smirk.
“And?” I playfully drag the question out. Her tired eyes brighten.
“He’s moving to New York to be with me. He’s looking for jobs,” Rain says. I brush a strand of hair off of her shoulder.
“This is going to be yet another trial that I’m going to testify at,” I softly tell her. She grins.
“Me too. Apparently, Brent Harris is pleading non-guilty. He’s insisting that he did nothing wrong. He loves you, and you ran off and left him cold. That’s what Craig overheard,” she reports. If Carmen were here, she would be proud. A pang of guilt fills my stomach when I think of my cousin. She’s hurt bad.
“Rain, I’m so sorry this happened to you. This is all my fault. I had the chance to kill Brent, but didn’t. I chickened out. And…
“A strong arm wraps around my shoulders. I look up and stare into Donald’s gentle face.
“Then, you would be a murderer. Chelsea, I’m glad his blood isn’t on your hands.” I can see in his green eyes that he understands that I’m too fragile to deal with any more killings. I nod at Donald and except his contact. He is a very good cousin, and I’m lucky to have him.
“I don’t blame you,” Rain says. “I blame Brent.”
“How bad is it?” I ask.
“My arm got grazed and I cut my leg on a piece of glass. I cracked my head. They are keeping me overnight for observation. They want to make sure that I don’t have a concussion,” she reports.
“I’m really sorry. I…”
“Chelsea, you are not canceling the wedding,” Rain blurts out. I’ve forgotten about that.
“Rain, I…”
“You aren’t going to allow Brent Harris to ruin anything for you. In fact, I hope that the event gets placed on YouTube, and he stumbles across it someday. Then, the psycho will realize what true love really is,” Rain hisses. I nod, figuring that everyone will be making the same passionate speech. Besides, I really want to marry Peter. And I know deep down inside that if Carmen can’t attend, she will still want this wedding to happen.
“All right,” I say before kissing my cousin’s soft forehead. Vanilla body spray fills my nose, and I’m comforted.
“I love you, Rain,” I express softly.
“I love you too, Chelsea,” she says. She’s tired. I can see that in her eyes. The passionate speech took a lot out of her. I kiss her again and head out of the room. Donald is leaning up against the wall.
“How is your crazy mother?” Donald asks opposed to saying “how is my crazy aunt?” Something had changed two years ago because my Aunt and Uncle hadn’t even asked for my parents.
“Want to go for a walk, Donald?” I ask, shooting him a meaningful look. This serves two purposes. He can tell me where Carmen’s room is, and he’ll explain everything.
“Your parents didn’t allow us to visit you,” he says bluntly when we get into the elevator. “Your father told me that we weren’t real family. When Dad pushed the issue, explaining that he thought of you as a niece, your Dad through him out of that ridiculous mansion,” Donald says, and fury fills my veins.
“Donald, you are my cousin. You know that?” He shrugs.
“Tiller gave me the same speech so you can save the dramatics,” he chides. I smile at him.
“What happened after that?” I ask.
“Peter kept giving us updates. But then, dad prevented anyone that wasn’t family from seeing you. That meant Danny, Jake, Olivia, and all of the Jacobs. So then Carmen kept on giving us updates. Your father isolated you from anyone that wasn’t family. You woke up, and everything changed. You don’t remember, but you asked for us. You became agitated whenever we weren’t with you. So your mother got us in a few times. Then, your father found out, and the hotshot nearly cost Dad his job. We stopped visiting you after that,” Donald says as we exit the elevator. I wince. Dad seems to love to take jobs from people.
“I’m glad that my father can’t hurt you guys, anymore,” I comment. If he does, Grandma will stop giving them gifts.
“Chelsea, I don’t get it. Uncle Ian has never been nice. But Aunt Kate is… She’s never been money hungry,” Donald says.
“I have no idea what Mom’s deal is. All I can say is that she’s the ultimate people pleaser. There must have been a reason she cut you guys out of her life. Maybe Grandma wouldn’t have housed her otherwise.” We pause and stare at the door that Donald stops in front of. His eyes are weary, as if he would be thrown out.
“This is Carmen’s room,” he whispers softly.
“Dad didn’t come with me. You can visit her,” I say before slowly turning the cold knob. I open the door, and the bright light inside tells me that Carmen isn’t asleep. I walk in and make sure that a bright smile is pasted on my face. Carmen’s in bed flipping through a magazine. She looks up and her dark eyes light up.
“Well, I got shot,” she complains.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. She frowns at the emotion in my voice.
“He got me in the forearm. The idiot was aiming for my head, but I moved out of the way. I’m fine. I got a few stitches and pain killers. They should be letting me out soon,” she says. I stare at the IV’s attached to her arm. The clear liquids tell me otherwise.
“Carmen, I’m glad that you’re all right.” She ignores me and smiles widely at Donald.
“Hey, Donald,” she says, her eyes twinkling.
“Hey Carmen. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine. Like I said, I’m fine. In a week, I will be well enough to be a bride’s maid for your wedding. Oh, and don’t think about canceling it.” Her golden brown eyes are hard. I have no idea why she doesn’t want me to push things back. But I will do it for her.
“I’ll wear a shawl to cover my stitches,” she insists.
“Okay,” I agree, thinking that this girl loves to plan.
“It will be purple. Do you think that Mary Masson will allow us back into her store?” Uncle Kenny walks in at the tail end of Carmen’s question.
“You aren’t going back to that store, Carmen. Reporters have practically camped out there,” he says before sitting down in the chair by his daughter’s bed.
“How’s Aunt Bianca?” I ask, remembering the hysterical woman that had been kidnapped with us two years ago.
“Fine. She’s with my brother back at the mansion. She’s resting,” he says.
“What about Eliza?” Donald asks.
“She just got released fifteen minutes ago. She’s perfectly fine,” Kenny assures and relief washes over me. Everyone is fine.
“What’s going to happen to the store?” I ask, feeling bad for Mary Masson. Some of her merchandise had been destroyed by Brent Harris’ assault. Kenny shrugs.
“They’re really rich people. My guess is that the damage will be repaired by tomorrow,” my uncle answers. Carmen chuckles, and I study her face.
“I wonder what happened to the drag queen,” my cousin casually says. Donald snickers.
“He looks awful in drag. It was the worse disguise ever. He’s fine. Though, his injuries are a little more serious than you guys,” Donald says. “He kept on shouting, Bob sent me. Bob sent me. Everyone thought that it was weird”.
“Bob?” Uncle Kenny asks, suspicion lur
king in his blue eyes.
“Yup, Grandma’s driver doesn’t believe that I had nothing to do with his friend dying two years ago. So he’s been investigating me,” I say. Kenny looks outraged.
“And you didn’t think to tell your Grandmother that?”
“Like she would believe me. Uncle Kenny, we don’t exactly have the best relationship.” The man winces at my words. He knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“Someone should try to figure out if Bob was a source for Will,” Donald says.
“Doubtful. Bob would have been included on the list of people that hurt Chelsea,” Carmen reasons.
“My cousin yawns and I give her a kiss on the forehead and tell her goodnight. Donald gives me a huge hug and then I’m heading toward the lobby. As soon as I’m in the lobby of the hospital, I call Peter. He’s with rain. I must have missed him somehow. He comes down five minutes later, and his dark eyes are filled with relief. We intertwine our fingers and walk out of the hospital and into a crowd of press.
I want to run as the flashing lights illuminates the front of this building. Peter curses under his breath. This is a big news story. Why do our lives amount to headlines? I wish that I hadn’t come back from New London after my fight with Carmen. So many things would be different.
“Chelsea, do you have an update on Carmen Philips’ condition? Was Brent Harris the man that kidnapped you?” a reporter with fiery red hair asks. I frown at her and sigh.
“No comment.” This doesn’t stop any of these questions.
“Chelsea, how do you feel about Adam Smith’s death?” a mousy looking guy asks. What do these people expect me to say?
“Peter, is it true that your mother got fired from her teaching job? Was that at all related to this case?” Peter clenches my hand, not wanting to deal with them.
“Chelsea, who else was injured?” This one comes from the red head.
“Listen, we appreciate your concern, but Chelsea and I would like to go home. This is a difficult time. We would like our privacy in dealing with this,” Peter says, his voice holding an edge of annoyance.
“Is it true that Ian Philips had an affair with Amy Gallagher?” This question stuns me. Amy Gallagher was the maid that I found dead in the mansion. My father didn’t even know the woman. He was in Minnesota when she died.
“No. My father did not have an affair with Amy,” I snap, feeling angry. Peter squeezes my hand and starts walking forward. We will bowl these people over if we have to.
“What about the tape? Have you seen it?” a reporter asks. We aren’t going to answer anything. This is crazy! Dad may be distant, but he wasn’t having an affair. Okay, to be perfectly honest, I can’t picture anyone having an affair with him. He’s so rigid. Sometimes, I’m still in shock that Mom married him.
It takes quite a while, but we make it to my car. Peter drives. I’m so tired that I can’t even keep my eyes open. But I force myself to stay awake. He’s just as tired as I am.
“That was annoying,” Peter comments.
“I know. The press is like vultures. When they see food, they pounce.” Peter nods in agreement. Because I can’t take the silence anymore, I turn on the radio. It is a top forty station and “It’s time” by Imagine Dragons and “I knew you were trouble” by Taylor swift plays before the radio host comes on.
“This is the Pete and Larry midnight show. Along with Pam, who always has the latest news,” a male voice says. I’m about to turn the radio to a different station when Pam begins speaking.
“So the saga continues. Chelsea Philips and her friends were shopping at this ritzy store called Mary Masson's when Brent Harris comes in and opens fire,” Pam says. “Thankfully, no one was killed. But this story is even crazier. Right after the shooting, a video got uploaded on YouTube. The video is of Chelsea’s father Ian Harris making out with Amy Gallagher, the woman who Chelsea found dead a couple of years back,” Pam says.
“No way! Kate Philips is a MILF. He cheated on that?” I want to vomit. I have no idea what is worse, my father being taped making out with Amy, or my mother being called a MILF. What is this world coming to?
“Larry, seriously? What is it about Kate Philips that you like?” Pam asks.
“I don’t know. She has a beautiful face,” he says.
“It’s probably plastic surgery,” Pete comments. “There is no way a middle aged woman is looking that good without help.” This is awful. My parents are being discussed like they are inanimate objects with no feelings. Mom’s probably having a mental breakdown right now. Dread fills me as we reach the mansion. Thank goodness the press isn’t camping out. Peter reaches out of the window and types in the code. As soon as the gate opens, we are speeding into the driveway. When we enter the garage, I sigh.
“Chelsea, I’m so sorry this is happening,” Peter softly whispers.
“As soon as the trial is over, we are going on a long vacation,” I say and Peter nods.
“We won’t even tell anyone where we are. Hopefully, the press won’t follow us. Hopefully, we’ll be yesterday’s news.” I nod and Peter, and I slip out of the car.
“I never thought I would say this, but I wish that most of these people forgot who I am.” He chuckles and we make our way to the house. I hear shrieking and shouting. So Mom has seen the video.
“Kate, calm down,” my father shouts. They are in the room that holds my favorite recliner.
“Ian, you’ve embarrassed me. After all I’ve done for you, you humiliated me. I don’t understand why you did this to me. Prostitutes? You blew your money on prostitutes?” We pause, not knowing this part of the story. I know that I should direct Peter to my room and sleep. Instead, I push him toward the sitting room. I had been blind sighted by the reporter. That will not happen again.
“Kate, they were just minor indiscretions. You and I both know that our marriage isn’t what it used to be. We haven’t had sex for years. Come on, Kate. Don’t…” Dad is cut off by a shriek. We walk into the room to see Mom lunging at dad. Peter releases my hand and jogs over to her. She doesn’t notice us. Dad is standing in front of the couch, with his hands raised. Peter grabs my mother around the waist. She fights like a wildcat.
“Kate, calm down,” Peter nearly shouts. When she realizes that Peter is holding her, she stops fighting.
“That monster! He nearly killed Chelsea. He got us disinherited. And now, he has an affair with over 25 women? Most of them are prostitutes. Even when he had little access to money, he was paying for hookers. I can’t believe this! Why? Why did this have to happen to me? Why?” Suddenly, I’m walking into the room. Mom may be overbearing, but she doesn’t deserve this. I walk over to her and grab her face.
“Mom, everything will be okay. Trust me. You don’t need to settle anymore. Leave him, work on yourself. Then, find someone knew,” I say gently. She blinks away tears and looks into my eyes as if my gaze alone could give her strength. I know at this moment that she really does love me. That’s why Mom has been so clingy. She didn’t know what else to do.
“Chelsea, I love you,” she says.
“I love you too, Mom. Now come on, let’s go up to my room. Maybe someone can get us something to eat.” Food is a good cure. It’s the only one that I know. I’m not sensitive. So talking it out is over my head. But I have to do something. Mom is barely keeping it together.
“I’m not hungry,” she tells me.
“Food will make you feel better,” I say.
“Chelsea, your father cheated on me for years. I’m an idiot. I only found out about it when I saw the video. I can’t believe he did this to me,” she cries, her eyes looking so lost and confused. I don’t feel anything but shock. I’m positive that the other emotions will catch up to me. This has been a trying day.
“Peter, take my mother upstairs. I’ll look for some food.” A surge of adrenalin has hit me. I know that I won’t be able to sleep until Mom has settled down. , I release my hold on my mother’s cheek. Peter releases his hold and
guides her out of the room. I spin around and stare at the man that has ruined my family. He looks exhausted, as if he hasn’t slept in years.
“Was it worth it?” I ask. His blue eyes fill with fury.
“Chelsea, do I really have to answer that?” His posture slumps and for a moment I feel a kinship with my father. We have both made terrible decisions. This only lasts for a moment though. I sigh and exit the room, heading toward the kitchen.