Constantine: Britain’s Story Part 2 (Spearhead Lake)

Chapter 29

Britain

It’s something of a gothic mansion in the heart of town. Surrounded by fig groves and perfectly manicured shrubs, the Scala house screams old money. My point is only drilled home when I pull up to a gate with security at the entrance. Seems unnecessary. After I show my ID, the guard instructs me to park in the roundabout and that someone will greet me at the front door.

The house is domineering and cold looking, and I already regret not letting Liam bring me. I drive up to the roundabout, complete with a fountain in the middle, and put my car in park. The front entrance features an arched double door with dark, wood paneling and iron bars over the window. It’s a vibe, but the cherry on top is the face that greets me. And by “greet” I mean looks at me like I’m a pile of dog shit she’s been forced to clean up. Gina. My internal instincts are all telling me to turn, run, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.

But just like curiosity killed the cat, here I am. I’m thankful I at least let Jess choose my dress for my lunch with Constantine. It’s another flowy Zimmermann midi, and even though it’s stunning, I look like I’m wearing a potato sack next to Gina in her high heels, wide-legged trousers that cinch at her petite waist, and a silk shirt. Why does she have to be so pretty?

I leave the comfort of my car and walk slowly up to Gina. Her expression doesn’t wane in the slightest when she greets me. All I receive is a, “He’s waiting for you,” and a swish of her hair in my face as she turns to lead me to what I’m beginning to assume is my death. Okay.

Even though the exterior of the home is dark, cold stone, the interior opens to a bright and light space. The walls are painted cream and the furniture is modern and overstuffed, everything done in perfectly worn leather or mohair. Nice.

Gina takes me down a long back hall that's filled with old black and white photos. Family maybe? But not anyone in this family. The photos all look like they’re from another generation, probably even a couple back.

We stop outside an open door where Gina knocks gently and Constantine calls her in. We walk into the room that looks more like a library than an office, but nevertheless it is. A glossy, oversized mahogany desk sits in the middle of the room, with Constantine sitting behind it. He stands when he sees us, and breaks out into a wide smile.

“Britain!” he practically shouts, coming around the desk to greet me with a big hug and pat on the back. I return the embrace, but can’t help but notice that Gina is still standing there giving me a death glare. When Constantine releases me, he motions and says, “Gina, have you met Britain before? She’s Georgie’s daughter. Our girl!” Our girl?

“Yes, I may have run into her once before,” Gina says dryly.

“It’s nice to see you again, Gina,” I offer up politely. She doesn’t respond, though, just turns and walks away. Right before she gets to the door, she calls back, “Lunch will be served in 30 minutes, Uncle!” And then she’s gone. Good riddance.

Constantine is still standing at my side and I look to him, hoping he’ll lead since I’m still at a loss for why I’m here. He places a hand over the top of my shoulder and says, “Come, let’s sit down. We have so much to talk about.” We do? He sits me down on a chesterfield sofa by the window, taking a seat across from me on a mirroring sofa.

“Hi, darling,” he starts. It’s an oddly intimate endearment, but I just smile. “You must have so many questions.” His eyes turn watery.

“Um, yes, I suppose I do.” Not that I could think of a single one right now. “Maybe you could just start with why you asked me to lunch today. I’ll be honest, after everything that happened with Matthias, I didn’t think I’d hear from you…and I know this is uncomfortable, which is why I didn’t want to bring it up at the Greek Fest. But he’s not the father of my baby.”

“Oh, I know. Liam’s the father.” He knows?

“Oh, okay,” I say, then wait for him to answer the rest of my question.

“Britain,” he pauses to scoot forward on the sofa so he’s closer, “I’m assuming you’ve gone through Georgia’s personal effects?”

“The notebooks, you mean?”

“The notebooks were only part of it.” I wait for him to elaborate. It was basically just a box of notebooks, and then some old photos and birthday cards. “Did you look at any of the photos or read the birthday cards?” No.

“Um, no, just the notebooks.”

“Ahh, okay, then we have a little explaining to do, don’t we?” He gives me a warm smile, standing to go get a box off his desk. He walks back over to me, setting it beside me on the sofa and then sits himself on the other side of the box. I turn towards him as he opens it.

If what Georgia left me was her life and memories in a box, what Constantine has here is my adolescence in a box. My old teddy bear and baby blankets are immediately recognizable. There’s a box with an old rattle and baby bootie. There’s my artwork from the second grade. And the book on sea otters I wrote in the sixth. I place my hand to my mouth in astonishment, and when I look up at Connie, he has tears in his eyes.

“Now, I don’t have as many photos as Georgie does, but I have some.” He opens a manilla folder and I can’t hold back the tears. The photo on top is of Georgia in the hospital, a little me swaddled in her arms, and Constantine right beside us with a massive smile on his face.

“You were there when I was born?” I set the photo down to wipe the tears away from my eyes and he reaches a hand over mine in a soothing gesture.

“Of course I was,” he says softly. He continues on, showing me photos of my first Christmas. There’s a photo of a 10-month-old me pushing a baby carriage and Constantine right behind me, spotting me in case I fell. There’s photos of my first birthday. I'm in a high chair with cake all over, and Georgia and Constantine are standing on either side of me, also covered in cake. I laugh because in the photo Georgia is laughing. She’s happy. She was happy. I laugh again, and then choke on a cry.

“I never knew. You came around?” I shuffle through a few more photos, spotting a dark-haired boy carrying me in his arms. Matthias? I stop and pick up the photo.

“I came around as much as I could. All the big days and a lot of the not-so-big days, too.” Constantine pauses when he sees the photo I’m holding. “Matt would come with me sometimes. It was very sweet. He’d dote on you, very protective…” he trails off. I set the photo back down, still torn between the different versions of the man that little boy grew up to be.

It’s not hard to notice there aren’t any photos of me with Connie past the toddler stage. He has photos of me with Georgia. And some of my sporting events, and school graduations. But there’s no photos of him and me beyond the early years.

“Why did you stop?” I ask quietly. I know the answer, but I want to hear it.

He sighs before speaking. “Well, Georgie asked me to stop. I came over after work one night, and you ran into my arms and called me Dad, and after that, I wasn’t allowed to come over.” Oh, that’s not what I was expecting. I thought he’d tell me how he was busy, he had his own family to tend to, not that.

All I manage to get out is, “Oh.” When he doesn’t say anything, we just sit there in silence as I finish shuffling through the photos, and the contents of the box.

He chuckles, finally breaking the quiet and says, “I used to have this little pocket notebook where I’d write down tidbits or things Georgia would tell me about you. It had everything: favorite movies, favorite food, funny things you once said. I hate to admit that I lost it somewhere along the way, though.”

I look up at him, and I wonder, “Did you love her? I mean really, truly, because I know she loved you.”

“That’s like asking if the sky is blue, Britain.” He laughs softly. “I love her…still.” On his last word he chokes, then lets a few tears fall. This time I reach out my hand to comfort him, and he takes it.

“I’m very sorry that you two couldn’t be together then. It was a tragedy.” He nods in agreement.

“I’ll be honest, my biggest regret in life is not being with her when I had the chance.”

“When you had the chance?”

“When I finally decided the kids were grown enough and I didn’t need to worry about Julie interfering with custody, Georgie wouldn’t have me.” He chokes slightly. “I understood. I’d made the rest of my life a priority for years. It wasn’t fair of me to expect her to just jump.”

I laugh. “She was stubborn, huh?” He laughs, too.

“Oh yes, was she ever.” We sit there in amiable silence for several minutes, when there’s a knock at the door. I instinctively drop Connie’s hand when Gina walks in, carrying a tray from the kitchen. I couldn’t eat right now if my life depended on it, but Constantine gets up, takes the tray and thanks her before shooing her back out again. I don’t miss her glare before she leaves, though. Jesus, she hates me.

“Did Julie know about this?” I motion down to the box, and he nods his head.

“I wasn’t a very good husband to Julie, maybe ever, but after everything that happened to Georgie, I was even worse. I never tried to hide any of it. In fact, at one point, your school pictures were hung on the fridge right next to the boys. I’d talk to them about you, too. It um, was probably hard for her, but we’d always had our issues.” No wonder Julie thought I was his.

I just nod. He motions over to the food, “Hungry?” I give him a half smile, and shake my head no. “Yeah, me neither, kiddo,” he says, coming back to sit down across from me this time.

“So, in Georgia’s box then…” I’d like him to fill in the blanks there.

“Right, so every year, I’d send you a birthday card. You should find those in there. There’s probably even a couple from Matt, too.” I feel guilty when he says his name.

“How is Matthias doing? I’m really sorry that things didn’t work out.”

“I’m really sorry about how that turned out too, dear. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have high hopes for the two of you. Always did. I thought…” he laughs. “I always hoped it’d work out between you two. I’d selfishly thought, what could be more perfect? I’m afraid I have to accept some of the blame there. I probably pushed him a little too hard.” Constantine pats his legs nervously.

“I never meant to hurt him,” I say quietly.

“No, no, and I’m sure he never meant to hurt you. Sometimes the apples don’t fall too far from the tree, though.” He chuckles. Yeah, I’m starting to see just how toxic Matthias’ family life probably was.

“I was a little surprised when we never heard from you after Georgie’s death, though.”

“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t emotionally ready to come back here.”

“I understand, sweetheart. But I am glad you’re back now. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a couple years now. Really ever since I retired.” I give him a smile.

“It was really nice getting to talk to you, too, Connie.”

He gives me a silly look before launching back in. “As you know, Georgia’s estate passed over to Alexander, but we did it that way because when I pass, my portion of the business will be split between Matthias and you both, equally.”

I freeze, unsure what to make of that. “Oh, Connie, that’s a lot, and also really unnecessary.”

“Of course it’s not. Georgie and I wanted it this way.”

“I could never accept that, Connie. It’s your family’s business.”

“And you’re my family, Britain.”

“What about Max and Niko and Silas? Your sons? Aren’t you worried what they’ll think?” He smiles at me gently.

“You asked if I loved Georgia, Britain, really truly.” He pauses. I nod and then he continues, “The answer is yes. If I wasn’t with Georgia, I wasn’t with anyone.” I sit with his words for a moment and let them sink in. My eyes must go wide in realization.

“Matthias is my son by blood. You’re my daughter by love. And Max, Niko, and Silas are my sons by choice. I love them, I raised them, but they are not mine.”

I’m almost too stunned to speak. “Do they know that?”

“Matthias, Max, and Niko know.”

“Well, I think Silas will figure it out when you leave half your share of the company to me.”

“Maybe, maybe not. He never had an interest in the business, and he’ll still get his inheritance. I don’t expect him to be too upset about it.”

“I don’t think I can accept, Mr. Scala.”

“Please, call me Connie, darling.”

“Does anyone else know you’re planning to do this? I just, I can’t accept.”

“It’s been in my will for years, Britain. Matthias is the executor, so he knows. Other than that, I’m not sure, and it doesn’t matter because it’s what I want. I didn’t get to be there, raising you, day in and day out like I should’ve. You didn’t even let me pay for your college tuition, which, by the way, I’m still salty you didn’t go to Stanford.” He gives me a fake angry glare. “My other kids have had me and my financial support for decades, it’s the least I can do for you.” My cheeks turn pink. The sentiment of it all is overwhelming. Is this what it’s like to have a father?

“If you’re not interested in the day-to-day running of the business, we’ll keep everything as it is now. Matthias will manage and earn a salary, but my profit share will split between the two of you. And, of course, you’ll have voting rights.”

I shake my head. “But that’s not until you pass away. That could be 30, 40 years from now.”

He gives me a sad smile. “I don’t have that much time left, darling.” I look at him, and while he’s lost some muscle mass, he still looks like a vibrant, healthy man.

“I still think you should reconsider, Connie. I don’t deserve this. I know nothing about the business. I’m just a stay-at-home mom now.”

“Don’t say that, Britain.You’re talented. I know what kind of work you did for Scott Technologies. I feel that I’m leaving part of the business in very competent hands. And again, you don’t have to dive in, but maybe you save it for the girls some day? Caroline and Elodie, maybe they take an interest?” It’s funny to hear him say their names.

“I’m not going to stop trying to talk you out of this, you know that, right?” I point a finger at him.

“Stubborn, just like your mama,” he says, making me smile. Just like my mama, words I would have hated hearing previously start to take on new meaning. This wonderful man loved her. Maybe being a bit like her isn’t so bad after all.

We spend the next hour or so mostly talking about Georgia. I ask if I can have some of the photos and he lets me choose. We talk more about me and my childhood, and then eventually about the girls. “I’d love for you to meet them sometime,” I say to him, and he nods silently, unable to speak without choking up. “I’m glad I got to talk to you today, Connie, and I hope we’ll see you at Sunday dinner sometime soon?”

“You got it, peanut.” I laugh and cry at the same time.

“Did you used to call me peanut?” He nods yes. “I call this one peanut.” I place a hand on my abdomen and we both look at each other and smile.

It seems like a nice moment to end things on, so I smile and stand and he does, too. We walk over to his desk where he presses a buzzer for Gina. I look at the collection of mismatched frames scattered over the surface, and sure enough, there I am, and so is Georgia. There’s even one of Alex in his dress blues. I smile.

While we wait for Gina, I glance around at his office. His bookshelves are filled with awards and more family photos, and I do wish he could have been my father. I wish.

The ceramic urn above the fireplace catches my eye, though.

I point to it and ask, “Is that Georgia?” He looks slightly bashful.

“Alex gave it to me. He said you wouldn’t mind if I had a piece of her, too.” I don’t mind at all.

“I think you’ve always had the best of her, Connie.”

He gives me a smile and we embrace tightly until Gina clears her throat and breaks the moment.

“Alright, darling. Let’s chat soon, okay?” he asks and I nod.

“Goodbye, Connie.” My voice nearly breaks, but I hold it together for a few more moments.