Monty

by Tina Martin

  Jealousy tightens my forehead. “You do, do you?”

  “Yes. I know her better than you do, and I know she’s not going to go for a man who’s married just on paper or otherwise.”

  “Whatever the case, I’ll speak to mother about it. There has to be a way to reverse whatever she did.”

  “I hope so.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Cherish

  He wanted me to come see him before I left, so I make my way upstairs. I see him standing at the window, his back to me. His mind is flooded with thoughts. Staring out the window is one way he processes those thoughts.

  “Monty.”

  He turns around, sees me and smiles. It’s one of those smiles that seems to hide something. He’s had a rough day, but in true Monty fashion, he buries it – at least for the moment while I’m in his presence.

  He begins his walk over to me, every stride makes my legs weak. He says, “You’re about to go?”

  “Yes. Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” he replies but I know he’s not. I can sense these things about him now.

  “I’ll be at the office tomorrow.”

  “Yes. You told me,” I say, and I’m glad he did tell me. It’s given me time to coordinate with his secretary to have a welcome back party for him upon his return. Whether most of the people there like him or not, they don’t have to worry about their paychecks not coming on a regular basis, so at least they should be happy to see he’s alive and well.

  After convincing Hannah it was okay, and that Monty wouldn’t be irritated by the sight of balloons and banners, she agreed to run out and buy the essentials. I took care of the food, then reimbursed her for what she spent on the decorations.

  “I’m going to miss seeing you around here this week,” he says.

  “You’ll see me first thing in the morning as long as you don’t lay out my clothes and make a run for it like you usually go.”

  I chuckle. “I didn’t want to make a run for it this morning. I lingered, hoping you’d finish your shower early.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  “I thought about it—finishing my shower early so I could run into you in my closet.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “You don’t want to know,” he says and folds his bottom lip beneath a top row of sexy teeth. He embraces me. I feel the love in his squeeze. “See you tomorrow.”

  We separate. He leaves a small kiss on my lips. “See you tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Today was perhaps the best day of my life. It’s the day I found out the man I love loves me back. I feel high. Stuff like this never happens to me. I’m always the unnoticed girl – not the woman who catches the magnificent eyes of a man so handsome, smart and talented.

  I need to be pinched. I can’t believe this is real.

  I pull in the driveway at my house prepared to jump right into my dinner-shower-bed routine – but as I climb the stairs to the porch, I turn around to see a white Chevrolet pulling up behind my car.

  It’s him.

  Webster.

  For the life of me, I can’t imagine why my stepfather is at my house. I’m not a scared little girl anymore and this shovel next to me is a tool I know how to use well. I wouldn’t think twice about breaking it across his back.

  When he gets out of the car, I yell, “Leave, or I’m calling the police.”

  “Call ‘em,” he says.

  I see the years have done a number on him. He has a round potbelly and a head full of salt and pepper hair. It doesn’t help that the shirt he has on is a size too small.

  “Leave my house!”

  He ignores me. “You gon’ stop feeding your mama these lies about me, girl. That’s what I do know,” he says waving his index finger that looks about the size of a boiled hotdog.

  “What lies? She’s married to a pervert. A child molester. She should know that, but you done brainwashed her into thinking I’m the liar. One day, she’ll find out and leave your ugly, fat self.”

  “Oh, you gon’ insult me now, huh?” he says, slamming his car door closed heading in my direction with balled fists.

  Around the same time, Ms. Kettleworth slides between the bushes like a navy seal on a secret mission, cocks back a shotgun and says, “Now, you hold tight right there, cowboy. I do believe the lady asked you to get off her prop’ty.”

  He looks at Ms. Kettleworth then back at me and smirks. “Is this a joke?”

  “Take another step forward and you’ll see who winds up laughing. Now, I advise you to get yur portly hind pots back in that car ‘cause I’m locked and ready to slide a hot one in ya. The poe-poe won’t touch me when I tell ‘em it was self-defense. It’s up to you which way this thang gon’ go.”

  Webster looks at me with flared nostrils and says, “This ain’t over, girl. You best to shut your mouth,” he says then gets in his car and peels out.

  Ms. Kettleworth lowers the gun and walks over to me. “Are you okay, hun?”

  “Um…I—I don’t know,” I respond. “He’s never threatened me before.”

  “Who was dat?”

  “He’s my stepfather.”

  “I ain’t never heard you mention nothing ‘bout no stepfather before.”

  “I know. I don’t acknowledge him as a stepfather. When I was a child, he—”

  “Honey, you don’t have to talk about it. I heard you call him a child molester. I ain’t never been one for math, but I can put two and two together. What I don’t know is why he’s mad at you and driving by yur house so frequently. I don’t like that one bit. No ma’am. Not one bit. You might either want to get yurself a ‘straining order or one of these babies,” she says, holding up her shotgun. “Now, go on in yur house and relax, Sherrish. I’m on watch for the rest of the night. You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout him coming back tonight.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Ms. Kettleworth.”

  “Not a problem.”

  When I’m inside, the adrenaline starts to wear off and the panic sets in. That dizzying feeling of not believing what just happened has me using furniture for support to make my way to the kitchen where I grab a glass and fill it with water. I drink, hoping it’ll help me breathe right again. My heart is hammering. My mind is taking me to places I don’t want to be. Remembering what he did to me. I thought I’d buried it. Now, it’s all coming back.

  I go to bed at my normal time, doze off and as if triggered by his presence, I’m hit with a nightmare…

  I’m twelve, lying in bed. Must’ve been around one in the morning. Mom was long asleep. I was sleeping, too, until I felt his hands rub me awake, touching my chest. Rubbing my stomach. When it first happened, I thought he was trying to comfort me for some reason. I didn’t understand what was going on. I think I was more in shock than anything else.

  The next night, the same thing happened. He came into my room after mom fell asleep and touched me, only this time, he slid his hand down my pajamas.

  I screamed, but he covered my mouth with his hand. Told me if I ever told Mama, he’d hurt her. Told me to be a “good girl” while he touched me. Told me to touch him and when I refused, he would choke me. This went on for three months. Three months, I lived in terror hoping my mother would see the change in me. See how depressed I was. But she was happy. He treated her well as long as I behaved.

  Then one day when she ran out, he came in my room, touched me again but touching wasn’t satisfying him any longer. He climbed on top of me and…

  I wake up screaming. My nightshirt is soaked in sweat. My body trembles in fear. I sit up on the bed and grab my bat, looking all around the room for him.

  I’m afraid.

  I’m in tears.

  I’m the twelve-year-old girl who couldn’t defend herself all over again.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Monty

  I was looking forward to going to the office again, getting back in the swing of things but then Cherish called in sick this morning. Called my mot
her. Not me.

  We’re close enough now where if she wasn’t coming to work, she could call me directly. She has all my contact information – cell phone, email – she has unrestricted access to me, but she called my mother.

  I call her. It goes to voicemail.

  I call again. I get voicemail again.

  I send her a text:

  Montgomery: Call me as soon as you see this message.

  That was three hours ago and I have no call or text from her. It’s after 8:00 a.m. now and I’m back at the office. When I walk in, I’m greeted by a ‘Welcome Back’ banner. There are balloons and party snacks all around. I didn’t expect this kind of welcome from people who hate my guts.

  “Good morning, Hannah,” I say to my secretary.

  “I’m sorry?” she says like a question and frowns.

  It’s when I realize the issue – I usually never speak to anyone in the office. Not even my own secretary. I’m not that man anymore. I’m actually proud of that. “Good morning, Hannah.”

  “Oh. Um—” she frowns. “Good morning. How are you this morning?”

  “I’m doing okay. What’s all this?”

  She whips her blonde hair to the side and adjusts her glasses. “This is a little welcome back celebration for you.”

  I smile, appreciating the gesture. “Thank you for putting it together. Looks like it was quite the undertaking.”

  “Oh, it was no problem at all.”

  “Be sure to submit a reimbursement for it,” I say continuing on to my office.

  “Oh, there’s no need. Cherish took care of it all.”

  I stop in my tracks. “Who?” I ask, turning to look at her.

  “Cherish Stevens. I was under the impression you knew her.”

  “Yes. I know her. Thanks, Hannah.”

  I step into my office and see a bouquet of flowers. They instantly remind me of Cherish since I know how much she loves gardening. I pull the note attached. It reads:

  They came from my flower garden. Welcome back, boss. - Cherish

  I settle at my desk and call her again. Can’t reach her. Now, I’m getting worried. Has me thinking about how I don’t know her family. I can’t reach out to anyone related to her because I don’t know anyone related to her.

  When my phone rings, I’m relieved to see it’s her calling me.

  “Where are you?” I answer quickly.

  “I’m home.”

  “Why are you home? What’s going on, Cherish?”

  “I don’t feel good today, Monty,” she says. She sounds different. Her voice is soft and slow. She’s not upbeat like she usually is. It only adds to my anxiety.

  “Be more specific, Cherish. What doesn’t feel good? Do you have a headache? A stomach ache?”

  “I just don’t feel good in general, Monty. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Her answer makes me think she had a nightmare like she had when I was at her house. When she’d fallen asleep on the sofa. It’s something else I don’t know anything about. Are nightmares common for her? Is there a reason behind them?

  “Why are you being elusive with me?”

  “Monty, why are you asking so many questions?”

  “Because I’m worried about you, and why didn’t you call me? We’ve been through this before. My mother hired you, yes, but you work for me and I would like to think we’re close enough now to where you’d feel comfortable doing that.”

  She doesn’t say a word. Irritates me to no end.

  “Cherish?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “I’ll be at work tomorrow,” she says like that’ll be enough to satisfy me. It doesn’t. I want to know how she’s really doing today, what she’s doing today and how sick she really is.

  “I’m going to leave work early and bring you some soup or something.”

  “No. That’s not necessary. I don’t want you to interrupt your day for me.”

  “You interrupted your life for me. I think I can give you a day.”

  “Monty, please. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay. I have to go.”

  And she hangs up.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Cherish

  Last night, I was afraid to go to sleep. I did a walk through three times, making sure all the doors and windows were locked. The slightest noise startled me, making it difficult to relax. When I finally did fall asleep, around two or so, I must’ve hit the pillow pretty hard because I forgot to set my alarm and now it’s six o’clock.

  I’m going to be late for work.

  I look at my phone. Monty has already called three times.

  I call him back and say, “I’m so sorry. I overslept. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Take your time,” he tells me.

  He doesn’t sound irritated or upset. In fact, I can’t decipher his mood over the phone.

  When I finally arrive at his house around 7:30, I expected him to be at the office, but he comes walking down the massive front steps as I’m parking. He’s dressed to the nines. All black. Suit, shirt, shoes, hair.

  “Good morning,” he tells me.

  “Good morning. Sorry I’m late.”

  “I don’t care about you being late, Cherish. I care about you.”

  He reaches to touch my face. I turn away so his hand doesn’t make the connection. I need it more than anything – the connection – but right now, I don’t know if I can handle it. Don’t know if his hands can truly console me after what I’ve been through.

  He grimaces. “Why’d you just do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Pull away from me.”

  “I don’t know—look, I—”

  His large hand grips my forearm. There’s no breaking away from it. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Don’t lie to me. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. This isn’t you.”

  My heavy sigh surprises me. “Okay, well, it’s personal, so—”

  “Personal?” he says, frowning like I’ve offended him. “Did you really just say personal? After everything I’ve shared with you about my screwed up life, you want to pull the personal card on me.”

  “It’s really complicated, Monty, and I don’t want to drag you into it. Okay?”

  He stares at me for what seems like an eternity, then says, “Okay. Then here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go home. You’re taking the rest of the week off.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “I’ll find someone else to cover your shift. You look like you need some time.”

  Time was the last thing I needed. I need to stay busy – to keep my mind occupied with something other than being stalked and harassed by my stepfather.

  “And I need you to be back to yourself again before we go to visit Magnus.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “What?” he asks frowning.

  “I think it’s something extremely emotional you three should share together. I was there when you made amends with your mother. I don’t think I need to be there for this.”

  He doesn’t like my answer, but he takes it. He releases my arm, turns away from me and stares out into the expanse of his front yard – green acres upon green acres. I’ve become complex to him. He doesn’t know what to do, and if that’s the case, we have that in common.

  He turns around and bites back disappointment and says, “Okay.”

  I know he’s upset, but at the same time, he’s trying to be accommodating. Trying to understand me instead of having his way.

  “I’m on my way to the office. I’ll see you later.”

  He walks back to the house.

  I get in my car and drive away.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Monty

  Saturday evening, me and Major are preparing to go to our long-lost brother’s house. Magnus lives off of Providence Road in the Myers Park Neighborhood area of Charlotte.

  I grab my keys ready t
o go and get this show on the road when Major says, “Hold on a minute, lead foot. I got this.” He takes his keys out of his pocket.

  “I can drive, Major.”

  “I know you can, but I want to get there in one piece, so—”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to be funny. I’m driving. By the way, are we going to pick up Cherish?” Major asks.

  “Cherish isn’t coming.”

  “Oh,” he says, starting the car. “I thought she would since she put all of this together.”

  “She’s not coming,” I say. “I wanted her to come, but she’s been distancing herself from me since Tuesday. I’m not sure what happened.”

  “She called off work on Tuesday, right?”

  “Yeah and got to work late Wednesday.”

  “What went down between y’all on Monday when I saw her coming out of the conference room. She looked like she’d been crying.”

  “I kissed her. Told her I loved her.”

  “Wow! Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t connect with people enough to love them. Are you sure it’s love?”

  “I’m sure,” I say glancing out the window.

  “I’m just throwing this out there, but if you love her, Monty, then maybe she shouldn’t be working for you.”

  “I don’t consider what she does working for me necessarily. She does for me what a wife would do for her husband.”

  “In other words, if you were married, you’d consider your wife to be more of your personal assistant instead of your equal.”

  “No. Not like that. She would be my equal. She would be my everything. The way I feel for her is messing with my head. I don’t know her all that well, but I know I love her.”