10. Caleb
10
CALEB
Victoria—I’ve realized that I can’t think of her as Vicky; it just doesn’t fit with what I see when I look at her—meets me in my office wearing a wine-red woolen dress that clings to her in all the right places.
“Is this okay?” She spreads her arms wide so that I can check out the outfit, and all I can see is the swell of her breasts through the material, and the curve of her hips.
“It’s fine.” I have to look away before the bulge in my pants starts telling a different story.
In the car, Abigail sits between us, chatting the entire journey about one of her kindergarten teachers who would bring books into school for her to practice reading in a quiet room, and give her scraps of plastic and wood and allow her to construct whatever she wanted. The kid is bright, but I’m not really paying attention. Each time I look at her, my eyes drift to Victoria’s flushed cheeks and long, dark eyelashes. She isn’t wearing makeup, although the dressing room is stocked with everything that she might need, but her skin is flawless, her hair thick and glossy, and her lips…
I force myself to stare out the window until we arrive. Focus, Caleb, jeez. Other than the brief introduction to Don Dragonetti and Olivia, this is the first time that we will be seen together outside of the Wraith, and even though Brailand Voth, the head teacher, is discreet, other people like to gossip.
So, I’m taken aback when the new head teacher greets us in the modern reception area.
“Catherine Montgomery.” Her handshake is firm, her voice clipped. She has honey-blonde hair rolling in fat waves over her shoulders, clear blue eyes, and classic features, but she pales beside Victoria’s warmth, like a white lily overshadowed by a vibrant gerbera. “The new head teacher,” she adds with a glint of amusement in her eyes.
I had no idea that Brailand Voth had been replaced. Lauren didn’t even mention it when she made the appointment and added it to my diary, and I make a mental note to speak to her when I’m back in the office.
It isn’t until we’re seated around the desk in Catherine Montgomery’s office that she acknowledges Abigail. After introducing herself, she says, “Abigail, do you understand why your parents want you to attend the Lutheran Academy?”
I sense rather than hear Victoria’s gasp when the head teacher uses the word parents. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Ms. Montgomery either.
“Because I can’t go back to kindergarten,” Abigail says.
“Do you want to go back to kindergarten?”
“Is that important?” I interject, and Ms. Montgomery shoots me down with an icy look.
“No.” Abigail swings her legs back and forth under the seat, and I’m reminded that she might be intelligent beyond her years, but she’s still just a little kid.
“Why not?” The head teacher watches her closely.
“Because they said I broke the projector, but they’re lying. I was trying to fix it.”
“Abigail is good with electronic equipment.” Victoria spins a narrow silver band around her finger. An anxiety tell. “She fixes things at home. She knows her way around a laptop too.” Her voice trails off like she has offered too much information already.
“What do you think we can offer her here that she won’t get from kindergarten?” Ms. Montgomery aims the question at Victoria.
“I- we hope that you’ll encourage her to explore what she’s good at. To challenge her strengths.” Victoria swallows, a faint flush creeping up her cheeks.
Ms. Montgomery remains silent, and Victoria squirms in her seat.
Finally, obliged to fill the uncomfortable silence, Victoria says, “Abigail is exceptionally bright, and I don’t want her to be held back.”
“From experience, children find their own way.” The head teacher’s tone is neutral.
“Yes, but they need the right encouragement.” Victoria glances at me as though looking for validation.
“Does she get the support she needs at home?” Ms. Montgomery asks, her focus is still on Victoria.
“Ye-es.”
I wince at the hesitation in Victoria’s voice. Doesn’t she realize that Ms. Montgomery is deliberately trying to intimidate her? She’s picking on her rather than me because she has picked up on Victoria’s vulnerability, but she should know that she’s better than this. My hands ball into fists at the thought that life has knocked her down so many times that she’s forgotten how tall she can stand.
“How soon can she be enrolled?” I wait for Ms. Montgomery to slide her attention my way.
“Assuming that she passes the entry requirements, it will take four to six weeks.”
“The entry requirements?”
“Abigail will need to complete the entry exam. Then, provided her results are suitable, she will be invited to attend an interview with her parents. I must advise you that we wouldn’t normally consider students with unfavorable reports from previous educational institutions.”
“Abigail’s report won’t be unfavorable,” Victoria blurts out. “They’ll tell you how bright she is.”
“I don’t doubt that she is bright,” Ms. Montgomery says coolly.
“I’ll pay the admission fee now,” I join in. “The Murrays will be happy to sponsor the Academy for whatever it needs.”
The head teacher’s eyes narrow briefly, a faint smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “This isn’t about money, Mr. Murray. It’s about Abigail’s suitability to attend the Academy. I must determine whether I feel that she will benefit from being educated here.”
“Surely Abigail will thrive with the appropriate nurturing.” Victoria has stopped spinning the ring around her finger, and I can hear the fight back in her voice.
Good.
The woman sitting behind the desk has no God-given right to determine whether a child is or isn’t good enough to be educated here. It’s like playing the lottery with kids’ futures, and I have no intention of leaving Abigail’s education to chance.
“I agree that she will thrive in the right environment,” Ms. Montgomery continues, “but whether the Academy is that environment remains to be seen.”
I stand abruptly and offer the head teacher my hand. “Thank you for your time. We’ll take Abigail elsewhere.”
“Caleb?” Victoria’s eyes are wide with panic as she rises. “What are you?—”
“We’ve heard enough. As you pointed out, Abigail will thrive in the right environment, and this isn’t it.”
“But we… How do you?—”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Murray.” The head teacher talks over Victoria, confirming that I’ve made the right decision. “Abigail may still sit the exam if you would like.”
“It won’t be necessary.”
“Caleb please…” Victoria’s eyes are pleading with me not to ruin this opportunity for Abigail, but I need her to understand that there are other schools, other ways of getting her niece the education that she needs.
Ms. Montgomery is on her feet behind her desk. “Perhaps you both need some time to discuss this in private.” The dig isn’t lost on me. She’s insinuating that we should’ve discussed our options prior to this appointment.
“Not at all.” I smile. “We’ll see ourselves out.”
“Where are we going?” Abigail jumps to her feet and slides her hand in mine.
My chest swells with the knowledge that I can help this kid, I can give her the chance that her loser father will never be able to provide. I crouch in front of her so that our eyes are level. “Staten Island.”
One call to Lauren is all it takes to secure the public open hours at the software lab on Staten Island for our own personal use. I want to see what Abigail can do. I don’t want to hear it from Victoria, I need to see it for myself before I can consider the way forward. My knowledge of kids is limited, but this isn’t about knowledge. This is about doing what’s right for an innocent kid whose birthright has handed her an empty plate while mine is overflowing.
Victoria is quiet in the car, forehead pressed against the passenger window. I’m no expert on women either, but I know she’s trying to figure out how to convince Catherine Montgomery to let Abigail take the entrance exam. She thinks I’ve let them down. She thinks I’ve ruined Abigail’s life for some kind of power trip, and this makes me angry.
I’ve told her that I take care of what’s mine, so the sooner she learns to accept that, the easier it will be for us to get along.
And the kid is even brighter than anyone has given her credit for. The technician, a young woman with black hair in a tight ponytail and wearing black-rimmed glasses shows Abigail how to program a basic piece of software, and Abigail not only gets it the first time, but asks the right questions to move onto the next stage.
The technician is suitably impressed. She pushes Abigail, encourages her with technical words that wash over Victoria’s head and leave her open-mouthed, the technician’s excitement demonstrated by the squeal in her voice and the way she beckons her colleagues over to watch.
I call Lauren and ask her to get Brailand Voth on the phone; if he has moved on to another school in the city, he’ll accept Abigail, no questions asked.
I’m not expecting Lauren to tell me that he’s uncontactable.
I walk outside of the lab, phone pressed to my ear. “What does that mean?”
“His personal number has changed, and his PA has been dismissed.”
“So, find another way to reach him. No one is unreachable, Lauren, not even from outer space.”
Brailand Voth is flying under the radar. I don’t know why this gives me such a sense of uneasiness. He isn’t part of a ‘family’; he isn’t a gambler; the IRS isn’t hunting him down for a million-dollar tax bill he’s been avoiding. He was born into wealth—unlike the Murrays—but we became best friends at high school when we both made the football team and have remained close ever since.
Until now.
He is still on my mind when we exit the penthouse elevator of the Wraith and find my mom on one of my sofas, a freshly brewed coffee in one hand.
Her face lights up when she sees me with Victoria, her brown eyes quickly appraising the woman by my side and settling on Abigail. Surprise registers momentarily in her eyes and vanishes just as quickly.
“Caleb!” She sets the cup down on the coffee table and is on her feet in an instant, crossing the room to take Victoria’s hands in hers. She kisses Victoria’s cheeks, and my chest floods with relief at the gleam in her eyes.
My mom likes her. I know this isn’t real, but her approval is important to me. My mom is the bravest, gentlest person I know. When she likes someone, she’ll give them the world if it’s within her grasp, but if someone crosses her, they’ll soon wish they’d walked in the opposite direction when they first saw her coming. She has an unfailing instinct when it comes to people.
Apart from when it came to my dad. Or maybe their violent relationship taught her to trust her gut. Either way, she takes no crap from anyone. Not even Terry. Especially Terry.
“I’m Moira, Caleb’s mom.” She arches an eyebrow my way. “When were you going to introduce us?”
I smile. I should’ve known Terry wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. I wonder how much he told her though.
“Soon, Mom.” My arm instinctively slides around Victoria’s waist, and I pull her close to my side. My mom notices, of course she does. “This is Victoria. And this—” I take Abigail’s hand and pull her in front of us “—is Abigail, Victoria’s niece.”
Her lips twitch upward at the corners. “Lovely to meet you both. Anyone who can drag my son away from his office is more than welcome in the family. Where have you been today?” She means, where have we been since Terry attended the crisis meeting this morning.
“Staten Island,” Abigail says. “I built a computer.”
Mom smiles. “You’ll have to show me sometime. I don’t know the first thing about computers.” This isn’t true. Terry doesn’t call her The Chef for no good reason. No one can cook the books as well as my mom can.
“We tried to get her into the Lutheran Prep Academy,” Victoria says, perhaps sensing an ally in my mom.
“But?” Mom’s gaze flits between the two of us. “Couldn’t Brailand help?”
“He’s gone AWOL.”
It isn’t until I say the words out loud that uneasiness solidifies in my stomach. Mason has gone AWOL too. Is there a connection? If so, it doesn’t take rocket science to figure out the common denominator—I’m the one who is searching for them both.
“Anything I can do to help, you just let me know,” Mom says, oblivious.
“Thank you,” Victoria says, extricating herself from my side, and it’s like a draft of cool air from an open window suddenly hitting me. She fits next to me like we were tailor-made for each other, and I have to remind myself that this kind of stuff only happens in the movies. Or at New Year’s costume parties. “It’s very kind of you.”
Mom must sense the note of despair in Victoria’s voice. “Hey, there’s no such thing as a problem that can’t be solved. Isn’t that right, Caleb?” She glances my way, but her attention is all on Victoria.
She knows something is going on, but she doesn’t know what. If she did, she wouldn’t be quite so subtle.
“Victoria and I have agreed to be married, Mom.”
Wow! That sounded way worse than I intended, but how else can I word it? If I said that we’re married, Mom would automatically assume that we’re in love and that this is the happy-ever-after she would wish on all her kids. When it is nothing more than an agreement. On both sides.
She isn’t saying anything.
“It’s just until I get Olivia Dragonetti off my back.” Like a cop in an interview room, Mom has this knack of remaining silent and forcing her kids to keep talking. It’s quite a skill. “Don Dragonetti offered to form an alliance with the Murrays, with marriage to his daughter as a condition.”
Still nothing. It would be easier if she yelled at me that I was making a huge mistake and messing with people’s lives, but yelling isn’t Mom’s style.
“I’m assuming you’ve made this official.” Mom’s tone is neutral; she isn’t judging my decision, she’s already a few steps ahead, working out the practicalities of a fake marriage.
“Kyle drew up the marriage contract and prenup.”
She nods once. She’ll go through the prenup herself when she’s finished with me—if there’s a loophole to be found on Victoria’s side (which there won’t be), she’ll fill it in with cement and grow daisies on top so that the Murrays come out the other side looking squeaky clean and smelling of roses.
“And how about you, Victoria?” Mom takes Victoria’s hands like they’re about to dance. “How do you feel about this?”
At least she didn’t ask what’s in it for her. She’ll make sure that Victoria is suitably compensated for playing the role of Mrs. Caleb Murray if she doesn’t believe that I’ve been generous enough. Mom will step into her own role of the compassionate mother-in-law with ease, but her priority will always be to protect her family.
“I…” Victoria glances at me, and I have the overwhelming urge to catch the teardrops forming on her bottom lashes and kiss every inch of her. “I’m doing this for Abigail.” She sucks on her bottom lip, and she literally has no idea how fucking sexy it is.
“They kissed,” Abigail chimes in.
Mom’s smile comes easy to her. “That’s what people do when they’re in love, Abigail. What’s your favorite fairytale?”
“ Beauty and the Beast .”
“Good choice.” Mom crouches in front of her. “I’ll let you in on a secret: that was my favorite fairytale too when I was a little girl. And I was quite disappointed when the beast turned back into a prince.”
Victoria chuckles. “We prefer the beast too, don’t we, Abigail?”
“We like him when he’s happy.” For a moment, Abigail sounds like a regular five-year-old, and a surge of protective energy flushes through me. If anyone dares touch her, I swear I’ll cut off their fingers myself.
Mom straightens. She’s still holding Victoria’s hand, and I watch her gaze settle on the empty ring finger. Without warning, she slides her engagement ring from her own finger and slips it over Victoria’s finger.
“What?” Victoria shakes her head, her eyes wide with panic. “No. No, I couldn’t possibly wear your ring.” She tries to tug it over her knuckle, but Mom stops her.
“You want folks to believe that you’re in love, you gotta do this properly.”
“But…” Victoria turns her gaze to me, imploring me to give the ring back. “This is your ring, Moira.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever looked at the ring Terry gave Mom when he proposed to her. Really looked at it . It’s a huge emerald surrounded by diamonds on a fine platinum band, and, when Victoria holds it up to the light streaming through the windows, it sends shimmering green and gold patterns pirouetting across the living room.
“It’s no secret that my engagement ring would go to my eldest son’s future wife, Victoria. But as Caleb has beaten Kyle to it, no one would question you wearing the ring. In fact, if you weren’t wearing it, they would question why not. Such is the way of the world, and if we’re doing this, we’re doing this properly.”
I smile. “Thanks, Mom.”
She dismisses the thank you with a wave of her hand. “Is Victoria going with you tomorrow evening?”
Tomorrow evening? Don Dragonetti’s birthday dinner. Kyle and I both received invitations, and it’s common knowledge that the police commissioner and mayor are also on the guest list, along with Dmitri Petrov, Sen Jozen—head of the Japanese mob—and Brandon Weiss.
“Tomorrow evening?” Victoria’s question echoes my own thoughts.
“Sure, why not?”
“Caleb, I don’t know about?—”
“You have nothing to worry about, Victoria.” Mom takes over, leading Victoria towards the coffee maker in the kitchen. “I’ll tell you all you need to know.”
I watch my mom operating the coffee machine and pulling cups out of the cabinet, chatting away as if they’d known each other all their lives, and I realize that perhaps this is what my mom has been waiting for, her sons to settle down so that she can welcome daughters-in-law and grandchildren into her life.
And I have to go and ruin it for her with a fake marriage and no wedding.