Chapter 5
“I have work.” She said without looking up from the dossier she was perusing as soon as she heard the door open. Early this morning she had come to a decision. She had cried her last tears for him.
She would go on with her life, not expecting anything from him. She had her babies to think about and they were what is important now. She had never been a wilting violet and had been through the horrible tragedy of losing both her parents at the same time. She could handle anything else.
She looked up when she felt him eased onto the side of the desk and try to hide her annoyance.
“I said I have work to do.”
“What a surprise, so do I.” Michael had a determined look on his face that told her he was not going to simply go away.
“I don’t want to talk.”
“You told him.”
“Yes.”
“And he didn’t take it well.”
She laughed at the absurdity of that statement.
“You could say that.”
“He will come around. You sprang it on him…”
“He does not want to have anything to do with me or his babies.”
He stared at her. “He cannot be that much of an asshole?”
“Apparently, he can be.” She knew her eyes were swollen, and the makeup had been applied with a thick hand, but even so, she had seen the evidence in the mirror that she was not looking her best. She had gone to bed without doing anything with her hair and had just scooped it into a loose ponytail and be done with it.
Nothing mattered, least of all, her physical appearance. “I really do not want to talk about it Michael. I know you mean well and are trying to look out for me, but I cannot do this now. The most I can do is work to take my mind off things.”
“You don’t look well.” He pointed out worriedly.
“Now there’s a news flash.” She waved a hand. “Close the door on your way out, please.”
He hesitated and seriously considered ordering her to go home or have some tea or just cry, but she looked so shattered, that he knew she was on the verge of a breaking point.
“All right. But for the record, I just feel like confronting that bastard and telling him exactly what I think of him.”
She looked up then, her face animated. “No! Michael, please promise me you will leave it alone.”
His hands fisted tightly, and he had to take breaths to calm himself. “All right.” He repeated. “All right. I’ll leave it alone for now.”
“Thank you.”
She stared at him pointedly and then at the door. With an aggrieved sigh, he left the office and closed it behind him.
She spent a moment, just sitting there, just staring at the document in front of her – her mind completely blank. Then taking a deep breath, she went back to work.
*****
His mouth tasted like cardboard and his head was pounding and there was a boulder on his chest. What the hell! Prying his lids open, he felt the nausea bubbling to the surface and had to swallow it down.
At first he had no idea what the bloody hell was happening or where he was, until he noticed the familiar fireplace with the dying embers and recognized his living room.
And the boulder on his chest was his dog.
“Bloody hell!” He shoved the animal with enough impetus to have him pitching on the floor, a pitiful whimper searing through his brain.
“Serves you right.” Harry eased off the sofa carefully, his hands going to his head, which to his relief was still where it should be. But it was pounding.
“Son of a bitch!” He flew off the sofa so quickly that it sent a frightened Shep racing for cover. And he only just managed to make it to the powder room off the kitchen. Wrapping his hands around his tangled hair, he held it back as he retched horribly inside the bowl.
Even after he had finished vomiting the linings of his stomach, he felt like shit. Moving carefully, he leaned back against the tiles, cold sweat was washing his entire body.
He had started drinking as soon as he returned from taking his walk and had ended up finishing two bottles of really excellent scotch. And had fallen asleep on the sofa with his clothes and shoes still on.
That was a new low even for him. And Christ Almighty! He had a meeting at the corporate office. Biting off a moan, he tested the water by trying to inch his way off the floor. He managed to get up, but it was a slow and arduous job.
By the time he felt his way out of the room and was turning towards the kitchen, Shep had recovered enough to slink back in and was standing there looking at him cautiously as if afraid he was going to be pounced on.
“Not now boy.” He could hardly recognize the scratchy voice as his own. “This has nothing to do with you, but I need a moment or two.
Taking out a clean glass, he filled it to the brim with the tap water and downed it thirstily. He was just filling it again when his phone rang. For one jumping and hopeful moment, he thought it was her calling. Digging the phone from his pocket, he sighed as he recognized the number.
“Mother, now is not a good time.”
“We’re waiting for you Harry and I don’t have to tell you that your tardiness is causing a lot of problems.”
“Just…” he braced a hand on the counter as he swayed. “Hold them off, will you? I am on my way.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’ve been better,” he muttered as he hung up. “Coffee, good black and strong and a bloody shower.” He decided.
*****
Madelyn could hardly wait for the meeting to be finished. Her son had stumbled in half an hour later, looking the worse for wear. Yes, he had been brilliant in his delivery as usual and had managed to appease the investors for his tardiness, but she noticed the fatigue, the bloodshot eyes. Which could only mean one thing. He had been drinking.
Damn him! She thought furiously. Whether he liked it or not, they were going to have words. The company belonged to him, because she was a woman and as much as she was the one running it, her share was a mere twenty percent.
Which gave her a seat on the board. Her name was McGibbon by marriage, but she only had what authority the board gave her, which was minimal. She was more or less sitting in for Harry and that was it.
Her son owned the lion share of the company, and he was going to have to step up to the plate. “That will be all, gentlemen.” She smiled at them and wanted to scream at their lack of vision and their outdated thinking.
They were all old men who should have been forced to retire some years ago. But she didn’t have the power. Her son did, and he was not exercising it.
She waited until they had filed out of the conference room, before pressing the intercom and informing her assistant to hold her calls.
“Well, you certainly look like hell.” Rising gracefully, she went to pour some coffee and brough him a cup. “Perhaps some of the pastries will manage to soak up the alcohol. I am assuming it’s alcohol and not whoring that has you looking green around the gills?”
He accepted the coffee and gulped it down, ignoring the heat that scorched his mouth. “You assume correctly, and I don’t need a lecture.” I am here and I delivered. End of story!”
Holding onto her temper, she went to pour herself a cup and brought it back to the table. Sitting down, she eyed him for a moment, before taking a sip. “Is this how you intend to deal with your ‘problems’? Richard is dead, How much longer is he going to influence you from the grave?”
“It would seem like it.” His stomach was empty and the four painkillers he had swallowed along with his coffee while at his place had left him feeling nauseous and fatigued.
Or it might be the liquor still in his system. He could not quite tell. “Good old dad.” He laughed harshly. “I recalled the time when I told him I flunked history. Got an ‘f’. Remember what he did mother?”
“Please…!”
“He took me into the stable and tied me to one of the stalls. It was during the coldest days of winter, and I could feel the cold biting into my flesh. The stable hands had scurried out without him having to say a word. He took a thick leather belt and let me have it and told me to scream if I wanted it to stop. I did.
Even though I vowed that I wouldn’t, I did, because I wanted it to end. He left me tied to the damn stall and half an hour later, sent one of the men to untie me.” He toasted her with the cup. “You were at home and did nothing about it.”
Madelyn felt as if she was drowning in shame and remorse. “I wanted to…”
“Yeah. You were afraid. Who wasn’t terrified of that tyrant? So, you asked me if he is still using his influence from the grave and I have to say yes. The son of a bitch is dead and is still managing to ruin my life.” He rose unsteadily. “If you’d excuse me, I have to go take a leak and try and find my way to the housing complex.”
Her heart broke into tiny pieces as she watched walked out, his gait unsteady. He looked so weary and unhappy that she could not stand it. Her mind drifted to the winter afternoon. She remembered it clearly. It had been snowing earlier leaving the grown covered and everything around the manor dazzlingly white.
Harry was always an A student, an exceptionally rounded student. He was athletic and highly intelligent and had always been such a curious child. But Richard had broken his will, until there was nothing left.
Her hands trembled so much she had to put her cup down. She had done nothing because she had felt helpless. He had threatened her constantly. He would divorce her and take her son away, so she had stood by while he turned her son into an empty shell.
She thought that after his death, Harry would have gotten better. But therapy had not helped. The only time she had seen him shown one ounce of animation was when he was with Janelle.
She had not approved of the girl at first, but she had been good for him.
Pushing away her cup, she rose, a little unsteadily and went to look out the window. It was approaching winter, and the old manor was becoming drafty. Her son was right. There were too many awful memories there.
Too many shadows lurking around for her to ever be happy. They could not sell the place but giving it as a gift to the city would be appropriate.
There was a very elegant, pied a’ terre, just one of the many buildings they owned, and it would suit her fine. She was going to pack up and leave the place and start afresh. She owed it to herself and to Harry to try and make things right.
Rubbing a hand at the back of her neck, she also figured he was told the truth. Perhaps it would do something to make him fully understand why his father behaved the way he did. Heaving out a sigh, she turned away from the view to go to her office.
*****
“A play?”
“What?” She divided a look between the two men who had marched into her office.
“A play. It is at the local community center and will be performed by the children living in the group home in the downtown area.” David explained with a smile. “We thought it would be just the thing to er…,” he cleared his throat and looked at Michael as if seeking his assistance with an uncomfortable situation.
“Something to get your mind off your problem,” Michael supplied bluntly. “David gives to this charity, and they invited him to come and see what the kiddies are up to.
He mentioned it to me while we were having lunch and I thought to myself – “‘Hmm, that might just be something Jan would be interested in’.” He gave her a look as if challenging her to say no. She was getting better, or at least, she would like to think so.
It had been a couple of days since she had told Harry about the pregnancy, and she had only cried twice. Things were indeed looking up.
Easing back in her chair, she eyed the two men. “I don’t want you feeling sorry for me. My pride will not take it.”
“We care about you.” David told her gently, moving forward to sit on the edge of her desk facing her. “And we want you to know we’re here for you.”
“Why?” She demanded, staring at him. “You barely know me.”
“What I know, I happen to like.”
“Think about it, darling. The play is this evening at seven. We could leave here and just hop on down. Apparently, they need our support.”
She stared at them again and rubbed her bump unconsciously. “Okay, fine.”
“Great!” Michael clapped his hands. “Now I can go and bully Georges to give me some details on the house he has been trying to unload for the past two weeks. The man is such soft touch and does not know how to go in for the kill.”
He eyed her outfit, noting in approval that the cable knit red sweater did wonders for her caramel complexion. She had braided her hair into one thick plait that was resting on her left breast, and she did not look as if she was on the verge of collapse.
“See you later, David.” Strolling out, he closed the door behind him.
“This is not your problem, you know.” She murmured into the silence Michael had left.
“I happen to like you a lot.” Taking her hand, he clasped it between his. “And you need a friend. I am one. I know you will never be more than a friend and I’m prepared to accept that. I want to be there to support you through all of it, Janelle, please let me.”
Tears burned the back of her eyes, and she found herself wishing that it was a different man sitting here, saying that.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
Lifting her hand, he brushed his lips against it. “I am going to say this and then drop the subject. He is a damn fool.”
She laughed shakily, strangely comforted by the fierce expression on his face. “I do agree.”
“Good.” He grinned at her and releasing her hand straightened off her desk. “I will leave you to it then. See you later.”
“David?” Her voice stopped him as he reached the door.
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
His smile beamed at her. “You’re welcome.”
Staring at her computer, she thought for a moment before shaking her head and going back to work. They were right, she had two babies growing inside her to think about. In another few months she was going to be delivering twins.
She could not think about the father and his hang ups anymore. She had tried to be there for him, but he didn’t want to be helped. Harry McGibbon preferred to wallow in self-pity and awful memories. She couldn’t help him.
*****
“You’re on a winning streak.”
“Aren’t I always?” Harry squinted through the fragrant smoke curling upwards from the cigar clamped at the sides of his mouth. He had left the housing project in the late afternoon and decided to crash at the club for the night.
And he was still here. He just might spend another night. His mother had been calling, but aside from a curt text, he had not answered. He wanted to forget everything for a while. To just chill out and pretend that he did not have the world on his shoulders.
“And you’re smoking. I thought you’d quit that damn habit.”
“I took it up again. What’s it to you?” He growled as Liam took a seat across from him and reached for his hand of cards. “We’re playing high stakes poker, so if you’re too delicate to handle it, I suggest you leave.”
Liam arranged his cards carefully and waited for the laughter to cease before responding.
“I have it on very good authority that you cheated that last time.”
Harry sent him a narrow-eyed look before grounding his cigar into the crystal ashtray that had been placed there for his convenience. He would play cards and lose some, win a few and have dinner in one of the dining rooms and probably take up the invitation being thrown at him from a woman he had been briefly involved with at one time.
“You want to say that again? This time outside?”
Liam shrugged elegant shoulders, a smile flitting around his beautiful lips. “I said it here in the company of our friends – or most of our friends…,” his eyes touched on a banker by the name of Donovan Griffith, a slightly distasteful look on his handsome face. “So that there would be no bloodshed. I happen to know you fight dirty.”
“I would not want you to forget that. Now shut the bloody hell up and show us what you got.”
*****
“Mind if I join you?”
Before he could say otherwise, the man was already pilling out a chair and gesturing to the waiter who hurried over to take his order. “The filet mignon, my good man and make sure it’s rare.” Liam’s blue eyes met his across the table, mischief twinkling in them. “Thanks for letting me win back there. I was starting to feel humiliated.”
“I didn’t let you win!” Harry was busy with his own meal, a gourmet combination of beef soaked in wine and wild rice. “You were becoming a pain in the ass, more so than usual.”
“I think I will use the money – minus the bit for charity and buy my lovely wife a trinket.”
“Doesn’t she have more than enough?”
His friend laughed softly as he picked up the wine that had been poured for him. They were in one of the main dining rooms that led off to a balcony and with a spectacular view of the golf course, one of several. Even though it was cold, there were still a few die-hards out on the course, concentrating on a game.
“She does. But I do so love showering her with glitters. I love the look on her face when I bring her something else. It is priceless.” He took a contemplative sip of his wine and savored it on his tongue.
“Excellent vintage. Like I was saying, my darling who in the former life had been a con artist, really hates being heaped with gifts. It is amazing actually.” He mused. “I have to ask her if it was something she had stolen from a mark, would it have been much more thrilling to own.”
Harry gave him an amused look. “I cannot figure you out at all. Are you proud of what she was?”
Liam gave one of his elegant shrug, his eyes twinkling. “I admire her quick fingers and don’t give a damn what she did. I love her in spite of it. I cannot do anything but love her. It’s the whole of me.” His eyes wandered over his friend’s face. “And you my good man appears to be struggling and more unhappy than usual.”
The mask came down swiftly and had Liam wincing.
“Something off limits, I presume?”
“You presume correctly!” Harry picked up his wine and took a healthy swallow.
“I am betting it has something to do with the truly lovely Janelle. You never said why you are no longer seeing her.”
“That will remain a mystery where you’re concerned.” His eyes tracked over to a table in the corner of the room and nodded at the woman who was staring at him.
“You do not want to go there,” Liam’s meal had arrived, and he stared eating, “our fair Chelsea is newly divorced and is here in the hopes of snagging husband number three.”
“Well, she’s shit out of luck where I’m concerned. But that does not mean we cannot have some fun.”
“She is like a leech, and you are better than that.”
Harry sent him an amused glance. “Looking out for me, are you?”
“What are friends for?”