Chapter 26 #2
“What’s that, darling?”
“What if I was the face of a ‘fashion for domestic abuse survivor’s’ campaign?” It’s the spark that came to me on the walk over. We’d have to rush it, because I don’t want to do this with makeup. I want my real wounds front and center. “I mean it literally, Luke. Louisa Moreno’s bare face.”
Both are watery eyed as they contemplate my idea.
“We’d have to get garments here quickly,” Luke says.
“I can start making calls,” Juliet tells him. “It’s early enough to get some overnighted.”
“Eight,” Luke says. “Find me eight designers to get garments here, tomorrow. We’ll use my dress and my photographer.”
“Really?”
“I’d be honored, Louisa. Truly.”
“I’ll call Vivian, see if she can expedite some publicity,” I tell them, my fingers shaking as I pull out my phone.
The idea is a solid one, but I didn’t expect them to be so eager to back me on it.
It’s not the sort of support I’m used to.
“I’ll see if she has someone who can set up a 501(c)(3) quickly. ”
“Make the calls,” Luke tells us. “Then, come back. I’ll get the dress ready.”
“I need one more thing from you,” I tell Juliet, who looks up from her own phone. “I need you to find out who I give a check to for two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars, today. Because this day doesn’t end without that.”
“I love you,” she says, wiping away the tears in her eyes. “But quit making me an emotional bitch today, okay?”
“No promises,” I tease. “I love you, too.”
It was a long, busy day. Luke not only fit his latest gown to me, but after he saw the effect of it against my bruises, his brain went to hyper creativity.
He ended up pulling more unseen garments out of the bowels of his closets.
He’s got a plan, now, and has fully taken visionary control of this campaign.
Which I love. I know he’ll do it justice.
The three of us cried on several occasions, Juliet cursing every time.
What should have been an emotionally draining day, wasn’t.
Cathartic is what I’d call it. Refreshing and eye opening.
Several of the designers we contacted had stories of their own.
Not a single person we asked said no. In fact, everyone eagerly accepted, and many added names of other designers they knew would want to participate.
At four o’clock, I took a rideshare across town to my bank, and then another to Grady’s attorney’s office.
His attorney was surprised to see a stranger showing up with such a large amount of money to give. Juliet did well, getting me the information without letting Grady know what was happening. He’d have argued, I’m sure.
Now, he can’t. It’s done.
Well, I guess he still can, and I suspect that’s why he’s calling me, right now. It’s only taken me twenty minutes to get from his attorney’s office to my hotel. I guess that’s long enough.
“Hi, Grady.”
“What did you do?” I can’t read his tone, and I wish we were face to face. We aren’t, though, and that’s my fault. Or, rather, my need. No matter how much I wish it was different.
“What needed to be done,” I say simply. “What I would have done right away, if you had let me know what Brenda asked of you.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility,” he says, and I still can’t gauge his mood. Anger or hurt? Happy or apprehensive? “I was figuring it out.”
“By draining every ounce of a future you’d been saving for? You don’t need to do that, Grady. I can afford to do this, and I’m thankful that I can.”
“Can you? You’re starting your life over. You’re trying to buy land from a man that I know is overcharging. What setbacks are you going to have from helping me?”
Oh, this sweet, clueless man.
“See, this is a part of my problematic headspace,” I say. “I’ve been living a life so opposite of who I’ve been, that not even you know me.”
“You think I don’t know you?” This time, I can read his emotions, and it’s all offense.
“I think we’ve followed our hearts, Grady. And I love that, but we’ve skipped over some of the more practical discussions,” I say. “My net worth, for example.”
“Because I don’t give a fuck how much money you do or don’t have,” he argues.
“I know that, but maybe if you knew, you wouldn’t have felt the need to hide what Brenda demanded from you.
Or did you not tell me for other reasons?
” He’s offended, but so am I. I came from a relationship full of secrets and lies.
I can’t fall into another one. “You didn’t tell me, Grady.
You didn’t seek my advice, or even just my comfort, while you tried to figure it out.
I can’t understand why you’d hide it from me. ”
A long silence descends while we both contemplate what I’ve just said.
I’m not one that thinks you have to share every waking thought with a partner.
A person should have things about them that are only theirs.
But important things, the things that affect you as a couple, as a family-those need to be shared.
In celebration or in burden, they need to be shared.
“I struggle with trust,” he finally says.
“So do I,” I say, sardonically. “Have I given you reason not to trust me?”
“No, Lou,” he says. “I didn’t confide in you because I didn’t want you to see me as a man who can’t take care of his own family. It was Brenda’s biggest excuse for having an affair. After the divorce, it was her leverage.”
“She was projecting, Grady. You’re a wonderful father, provider, and protector. Your family didn’t fall apart because of you or any shortcomings you have. It fell apart because she didn’t put the work in, because she wasn’t honest and open.”
“And now, I’m no better than her,” he says.
“That’s not true,” I say. “We’re going to fuck up as we figure this out. Neither of us is coming from great experiences.”
“So, how do we do better?”
“I’m not sure I have the answers. But we need to be more honest with each other,” I tell him. “I’ll start. I’m worth just over twelve million dollars.”
“That’s…that’s not what I was expecting.”
“More or less?” I ask.
“Much fucking more,” he says, after a laugh.
“You don’t understand the work I do,” I say.
“Even though it’s the same industry as Juliet’s, it’s not the same.
That last job in New York paid me nearly half of what I just gave to Brenda.
I’ve had endorsements that have paid millions.
Be as mad at me as you want, but know that I can afford to pay her off. And I’m happy to do it.”
“I’m not mad at you, Lou,” he says. “I’m thankful for you. You’ve given me the best gift. My ego was bruised, is all, and like you, I didn’t like being left out of the loop. I’ll do better. When you come home, I’ll be better.”
The vulnerability is back, now. I hate that I put it there, yet I’m weirdly happy that he’s showing it to me. He’s seen so much of mine. Grady is a tall, burly, capable man. His heart, though, that’s all marshmallow fluff, once someone gets past the armored cage he’s locked it in.
“I am coming home, Grady.”
“I know,” he says. “You can’t tell me when, but I know.”