Her Turn

by Allison Jones

  George entertains me with stories about the twig-like models he has to deal with along with a potential love interest—or boy toy, as he refers to the guy in question. We enter my apartment. I strip off my clothes and get in the shower while George raids my closet for something appropriate to wear. I am going to the hospital, not a party, but whatever makes him happy. Feeling a little more human, I wrap myself in a towel and head into my bedroom.

  “Feeling better, princess?” He smiles softly at me.

  “Yes, I guess I needed that shower.” I shrug.

  He narrows his eyes. “Honey, I didn’t even need to know the room number; I just followed my nose. Okay, here are some options. I think this floral top would cheer you up; otherwise, here is the pink one that you seem to not complain about when I suggest it.” He snickers.

  “Why can’t I just wear my yoga pants and T-shirt? Those bring me comfort, and after all, I am going through a hard time.” I pout. Giving my best “poor me” look.

  “Look. Crisis doesn’t mean compromising fashion. Did you see Jackie Kennedy looking like she just rolled out of bed following the death of her husband? The answer is no, and I am not letting you walk out of here looking any less than fabulous. It will lift your spirit. Trust me.”

  I let him fuss over me while trying not to admit that I do feel better in my colorful top and fashionable jeans.

  “Thank you, George. You have no idea how much your friendship means to me.”

  He gives me a bright smile and says, “Baby girl, you are a light in my life. You and Owen have become part of my family, and I will do anything for you. Besides, I’m waiting for that broody hottie to claim you.”

  “Well, I don’t think that’s in the cards. I have a lot that I’m juggling.”

  I gather some things that Owen might want when he wakes up. I say when, because there is no other alternative.

  As we head out to the waiting car, I’m accosted by the sight of Jameson as he heads toward me. As he approaches, I notice the dark circles under his eyes, his wrinkled clothes, and the sadness that hollows out his face. He looks as bad as I feel. Oh crap, who am I kidding? He still looks hot. Shit.

  “Jameson, what are you doing here?’ My tone is harsher than I expect it to be. He flinches.

  “I know you don’t want to see me, but we need to have a conversation. Nina told me you came home, so I thought I would try to catch you before you head back to the hospital.” Jesus. Nina seems to be the town crier. Please, Addie. You need to know everything.” His eyes plead with me. George nudges me forward. Even Walter smirks. Traitors.

  “I’ll meet you back at the hospital. Take your time. I’ll troll the halls for hot doctors.” George wiggles his eyebrows before getting into a cab. I shake my head, trying not to smile.

  Walter nods at Jameson as if they have some silent language, and he gets into the car with George. It was like Walter just handed me off to Jameson. Whatever. At this point, I am too tired to argue.

  I close my eyes and exhale. All the fight has left my body. Exhaustion has made me vulnerable, but he’s right. I need to know. “Alright. Let’s go to the diner around the corner. Let me call Nina. I want to check on Owen.” Do I want to go to the diner? No. Well, yes, but only because I’m starving since food has not been at the front of my mind. Honestly, I don’t want to know the sordid details that resemble something from a Spanish soap opera, but I also know that I need the details in order to move forward.

  I step away to make my call. It rings, and she answers, “I know you’re mad, but this shit needs to be dealt with, and avoiding it won’t help you.”

  “You don’t understand. I can only deal with one thing at a time. Right now, Owen is my priority.”

  “Stop using Owen as a distraction. He is healing in his own way. Deal with this before he wakes up. He will have questions, Addie. Wouldn’t it be nice to have the answers?”

  I close my eyes and sigh. Ever the voice of reason. I’m grateful I have her to guide me when my vision is so clouded.

  “I hate it when you’re reasonable. Call me if there are any changes.”

  “Of course, I will. Love you, Addie.”

  “Love you, too.” I disconnect the call. I guess I have no choice but to face my new reality.

  We head to the diner in uncomfortable silence. Awkward isn’t even the right word to use for this situation. Jameson holds the door, and I’m assaulted by the sweet scent of vanilla and coffee. My stomach growls loudly. Jameson’s eyebrows rise.

  “You haven’t been eating, have you?” he inquires, knowing the

  answer.

  “No. My appetite is on vacation with the shitshow that is currently my life.” I avoid his eyes.

  We find a booth in the corner. The waitress brings us water and a carafe of coffee. I am grateful that I have a menu, so I don’t have to look at Jameson. You know, his stupid-handsome face. Ugh. Once the waitress takes our order, I reluctantly release my menu, the only barrier between my eyes and his.

  “Let me start by saying I am an asshole. I should never have ghosted you. I also should have kept you in the loop about Richard. I wanted to gather more information before I slammed you with this mess.” The shadow of regret blankets his face.

  “Did that hurt? I mean, you just admitted to making a mistake and being an asshole in one sentence.” I give him my cheeky grin.

  He shakes his head. “I handled everything wrong. I thought I was protecting you, but instead, I fucked everything up. I’ve been a mess not being able to be there for Owen. For you. And having this information is eating me alive.”

  I cock my head, trying not to read into his admission. That, quite possibly, he feels something for me beyond being a former client. “Well, let’s relieve you of the burden. Share what you know. I might as well stop avoiding the inevitable.”

  “Okay, and then when the time is right, we’ll discuss us.” My breath hitches at the very thought that there might be an “us” to discuss.

  I shake my head. “There is no us, Jameson. I can’t do this.” I point my finger at him and then back at me. “My whole life has been a series of people lying to me. Abandoning me. I can’t deal with that shit anymore. So please just tell me what you know, and we can go on with our lives. Separately.”

  He swallows. A shadow of emotion clouds his face, but it disappears as he proceeds to deliver my life sentence. At least, that’s the way I feel that the information he has will forever change my life. Owen’s life.

  Before he can spill what he knows, our waitress delivers our food. Normally, the golden pile of pancakes partnered with bacon would delight me. It would bring me comfort. But my appetite has evaporated and is replaced with a deep sense of dread sprinkled with nausea.

  “Okay, proceed.” I lift my eyes from my plate and stare at Jameson.

  Surprised by my lack of food enthusiasm, he starts talking. “Alright. Richard has known since you and Owen were born that he wasn’t your father. Your mother had been having an on-and-off affair with a very influential man. He was married and had no intention of leaving his wife. Your mother broke off the affair after she got pregnant with you. But after you were born, she resumed seeing him. He didn’t know about you. Then when she got pregnant with Owen, she did the same thing. Meanwhile, she tried to convince Richard that he was indeed the father of you both. What your mother didn’t know was that Richard was sterile. Of course, he didn’t share that information with her. So she tried to pass off both of you as his, and he went along with it. He had always wanted kids, and he knew that your mother couldn’t love you the way you deserved.” He takes a breath, giving me a moment to process this information.

  “At least Owen and I have the same father.” Somehow that gives me a little comfort. At the same time, I realize that this must be the source of my father’s random distancing from me—before Owen was even born, Richard was living a lie. That
must have been hard on him.

  “Richard left because he had found out who the father was and realized that he just couldn’t continue the charade. Plus, he was overwhelmed at the thought of raising a child with special needs. He couldn’t step up.”

  “Well, at least one thing is true. That he left because of Owen’s Down syndrome.” I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Jameson reaches across the table and takes my hand. I let him. I need the connection and the safety it provides.

  “I think I know the answer, but why now? Why did all of this happen now?”

  He takes a breath and continues. “The timing of your book’s success and all of this coming to light is not a coincidence. You already know that Dorothy was involved after what happened at your New York book launch. She found Richard as well as your birth father, and she took advantage of them.”

  I didn’t think of Dorothy as savvy. I have always thought that she was a few fries short of a McDonald’s Happy Meal. (Shameless endorsement, as I love their fries!). Okay, my inner dialogue needs to end so I can find out the rest of the dirt.

  “I can only assume it was for money. Shoplifting wasn’t a career where she was hugely successful, and her psychic business probably wasn’t very lucrative either.” I smirk.

  “Yeah, so once she found him, she provided him with all kinds of proof, and my PI was able to track wire transfers to an account that belongs to her. The monetary gain was the result of blackmailing your birth father while giving partial payments to Richard for his assistance in the charade. He was in bankruptcy, so this seemed like an easy way to make a buck, I suppose.” He pauses and looks at me like he’s waiting for me to break.

  “So how did Dorothy know all of this, and I didn’t?” I inquire.

  “Well, that is an excellent question. I met with her the other day. She called me with a business proposition. She said if I gave her a million dollars, she would hand over the information on your birth father. Otherwise, she would go to the media. She has no idea that I recorded our conversation. It’s all been turned over to one of my buddies who works for the FBI.” He gives me a cocky grin.

  “Well, thanks, but why would you do all of this without me? That bitch has been a thorn in my side for years. Her rainbow-unicorn, love-and-light crap was always a façade. She was always out for herself.” Honestly, I am a little hurt that I seem to be the last to know everything. And, by the way, this is my life.

  Jameson smiles at me and says, “You needed to focus on Owen’s recovery. I just wanted to alleviate some of the heaviness that you must be feeling. My way of atoning for my actions. You have a lot on your plate.” His expression is soft and caring.

  “It’s not a plate, Jameson. It’s a fucking buffet, so what’s one more serving? Are you going to tell me who our father is? Inquiring minds want to know.” He squeezes my hand and slides a large envelope toward me.

  “Everything in this envelope will give you the information you want. Paternity tests, letters from your mother to your biological father, and there is also a letter to you from your mother.”

  “Oh, a letter from my mother. That should be interesting. Can you just give me the CliffsNotes version? I’ll look at all of this later, but right now, I just need a name,” I beg.

  “It’s Senator Wendell Brooks.” He watches me. I can only assume that he thinks I might implode or perhaps scream, but I surprise us both by simply nodding. I had wondered why the senator was at the book launch in Los Angeles. I remember the odd conversation we had and how familiar he seemed to me. Now it makes sense, but then, it felt like he was on a fishing expedition. The irony is that he is a very conservative politician whose sole purpose seems to be cutting services that benefit individuals like Owen. What a douche. And yes, ladies and gentlemen, he is my father. Just peachy.

  My phone pings with a notification from Nina. I look up at Jameson, my eyes wide. “I need to get back to Owen.” He throws some bills on the table and says, “I’m coming with you.” I don’t argue. We race to his waiting car and head to the hospital.

  Dorothy

  I watch them. It is sickening. What does that hot piece of man see in that chubby bitch? Sitting in the corner, I observe the interaction. The touching of hands. It’s disgusting. Time is running out for me. After the money exchange and the ease with which I slipped out of the bar where I met Jameson, I have been lying low. I know that I should leave the country, but I want to see how this all plays out. I want to see Addie finally get what she deserves. Misery.

  Matthew disappeared weeks ago, leaving a note saying that he couldn’t be a part of this. I guess he found out what was going on—although how he found out, I still don’t know. Well, he wasn’t part of it, to begin with, but who cares? He was weak. Pathetic. He weighed me down. Good riddance.

  I take a sip of my coffee and adjust my disguise. Today, I chose a platinum-blond wig that might rival Dolly Parton’s hairstyle, designer sunglasses, and my very fashionable trench coat paired with a pink scarf. I needed a little color today. It is very James Bond. I decide that while they are over there canoodling or whatever, I’ll head to the hospital and see if I can find out any information about the esteemed patients. Maybe they will both die. I don’t care. They are just a means to an end. What happened to Owen wasn’t part of the plan, but it is what it is.

  As luck would have it, I arrive at the hospital to find Owen alone. That bitch, Nina, is always hanging around, acting like she’s better than everyone else. And the big, bulky henchman they hired is nowhere to be found. Perfect. As I’m about to enter the room, I am stopped by a nurse.

  “Excuse me, but only family is allowed in this unit. Are you related to the patient?” Her eyes narrow at me.

  “Oh, why yes, I’m his cousin. I’ve been so terribly worried, and Addie has been so wonderful keeping me posted. I thought I would come and give her a break. That’s what family does for each other.” I smile at her, trying to appear like a doting family member. Acting is hard sometimes. I dislike Owen. He gives me the creeps with his slow speech that I sometimes can’t even understand and his weird appearance. Retarded people are worthless. That’s why Addie was made fun of in high school. She was always protecting her brother. Too bad the car didn’t just take him out. The world wouldn’t miss him.

  “I had no idea! Addie never mentioned you. Go ahead and go in. I suppose you know that Owen just woke up asking for her. He has fallen back asleep, but we expect that since his body is still healing. Addie is on her way. Her friend Nina just stepped out to make some phone calls but will be back soon. We’re so relieved! He is such a sweetheart.” She turns to leave, and I grin. Seriously, people underestimate my ability to get what I want. Now is my time.

  Addie

  By the grace of God, traffic is not an issue. It’s like the parting of the Red Sea. Anyway, we arrive. Just FYI, Jameson is still holding my hand, and well, I’m not going to lie, I fucking love it! I know you’re wondering if I’ve forgiven him. Well, the jury is still out, but I do know that he cares for Owen and for me. He fits with us in our little tribe of people. The family that I picked instead of the dysfunctional biological sort. He is human. And humans make mistakes. So yes, I forgive him, but I am still working on the trust part. And my fear of being abandoned. I have a lot to work on, but Owen comes first. The rest will fall into place. I need to tell him.

  As we exit the car, we sprint like O. J. Simpson in that rental car commercial before he decided to break the law and go on a wild ride in his Ford Bronco. We reach Owen’s room, and next to my brother’s bed stands Dorothy. Her eyes linger on him as if she is contemplating her next move. Remember the love, light, unicorn, and rainbow shit that she spouts? Well, it has been replaced with venom, disgust, and anger. Will the real Dorothy Snyder please stand up? Fortunately, I have shed my tolerance for bitches. If Jameson weren’t here and there weren’t any witnesses, I would probably kill her. I have mad ninja skills when prompt
ed. At least in my mind, I do.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” My heart is racing. Rage is bubbling. At that moment, Jameson and Walter flank me. Walter doesn’t speak a lot, but his presence is commanding, and he truly cares for Owen. Even in the middle of this madness, I feel safe.

  “Oh, I was just visiting my sweet cousin. Is that a crime?” Her statement is devoid of any emotion.

  “Dorothy, you don’t even like Owen. But I do know that you’re a conniving bitch. I know you received money in exchange for keeping the senator and Richard’s secret. How did you even know?” I stare at her. She laughs.

  “Oh, Addie. You were always so naïve and incredibly stupid. Always thinking that you’re better than me. How did I know? That’s easy. Your mother told me.” She smirks.

  “Why would my mother confide in you? You weren’t even close.”

  She giggles. This is when I believe she’s losing it. Like, several slices short of a full loaf of bread. Notice I always reference food. It’s my thing. Okay, now back to the wicked bitch of the west wing.

  “Your mother made a deathbed confession. She thought I was you, so naturally, I went along with it. It was like divine intervention that I was there to listen. I recorded it so your actual father could celebrate that he is a daddy and, of course, so I could have leverage with him financially. Richard was in the middle of bankruptcy, so it was easy to get him on board to help me for the right price. It was my security blanket in case you cut us off financially. When you did, well, I had no choice.” She is grinning like a fucking Cheshire cat. Ugh. Well, that explains my mother’s last words of “I’m sorry.”

  At that moment, two very attractive gentlemen approach us flashing their FBI badges. Don’t judge. It’s been a miserable three weeks, and eye candy is always welcome. Jameson nods at them and then looks at me like he has a story to tell me. Dorothy looks surprised. She starts laughing hysterically, like a lunatic. I wonder if the agents have a straitjacket with them.