Chapter 7
Thalia
6 months later
THE CLOSER THE wedding date approached, the sicker I felt. Carey was a good man who did not deserve to be deceived. I had no choice but to continue our relationship now that I had committed myself to marrying him. Not that I was complaining. Carey was a wonderful fiance. The best a bride to be could ever wish for. And I felt horrible every time I would find him waiting for me after work, usually with a gift in hand. Most of the times it would be simply a bouquet. Sometimes, especially when I finish early, he would have a box of 'experience' as he would call it, for me to open. I would find a ticket to a concert, a festival brochure, or an image of a beautiful private island he was taking me to. Each time I opened them, my heart would swell, only to sink with guilt.
Carey's lovemaking became more intense during this period. It was as though he wanted to prove something to me. Whatever need he had in him, it made the time we spent together more precious. I couldn't ask for more. If it weren't for the looming deception, I might have fallen in love with him. But knowing that our relationship was built on lies stopped those wayward emotions from developing into more.
But whenever I tried to tell him the truth, I would stop myself. Now that my mother was on the trial and receiving the best medication in the world, she had a chance of surviving. The doctors were even talking of remission. I couldn't jeopardize that. Not when Nolan Hawthorne Sr had proved himself to have enough power to take that away in an instant.
Instead of focusing on my lies, I poured my heart into preparing for the wedding. As if to spike up my anxiety, Nolan Hawthorne invited every influential person in New York. And instead of the small intimate gathering I had imagined when all of this started, my wedding was going to have upwards of possibly five hundred people. It was going to be featured in a prominent magazine, and a press reel would be sent to other news agencies. Great. No need to panic at all.
I rarely spoke to Carey's father after the Hamptons incident, thankfully, but he still made his presence known through the wedding planner he hired, whose every idea had to go through Nolan Hawthorne for approval. "Your future father-in-law is very taxing," the wedding planner had once said after a phone call with him. I smiled at her warily, knowing exactly how she felt. He was beyond saving and was always trying everything he can to make sure the wedding went according to his plans.
The saving grace was Carey, who was apologetic every time his father pulled one of his shenanigans. They were such different creatures, I wondered why Carey was the child Nolan Hawthorne was most interested in. But I later learned that Carey wasn't the only progeny he was obsessed with. His namesake, Nolan Jr, was also a victim of his father's affections. Of all the siblings Carey had, the eldest was the one he was closest to. He was to be the best man at the wedding.
I didn't have a choice in bridesmaids. As much as I wanted my work colleagues to be part of the wedding, Nolan Sr forbade it and instead sent me a portfolio of ten of the most elite New York socialites and I was supposed to choose five of them. Carey was angry at first when I asked him to help me out choose the bridesmaids until I explained to him he's father wouldn't want barmaids at his son's multi-million dollar wedding.
Explaining the entire ordeal to my mother was difficult. She was worried at first that I was moving too fast with Carey and thought I was only seeing him, so he could pay for her medication. That was partially true. But when I told her that the money came from a charity and not from Carey, she relaxed. The part about the charity wasn't that much of a lie either. Nolan Sr had made it so money for the cancer treatment came through one of his many foundations. She recovered so well that towards the wedding; her required number of chemo treatments had gone down and she could stay at my place instead of the hospice. She and Carey got along well, which was a relief.
After six months of planning and a week before the wedding, everything went to ash. I didn't know that's when it was crumbling, but I would know only until the honeymoon.
It was the night of the engagement party and close to the end when he called me to his office. The scene was similar to that of the last time I was here. A drink was on the small glass table in the middle of the sofa set. He was holding one in his hand as he leaned against his desk. When I came in, he gestured to the glass on the table, a command for me to sit down. I took the glass and sank into the single person sofa. "Congratulations. This might end up being a success after all," he said. That familiar rise of bile began its ascendence, and it made the whiskey nauseating. "You have handled yourself well, I have to say. My son seems infatuated with you and you have the perfect mix of gauche and naivete that is quite charming. Make sure you keep that up when he runs for office."
I wanted to vomit. "Mr. Hawthorne, you know why I am doing this. If it weren't for what you've done for me, I wouldn't be here."
"Yes, of course." He sat his glass down and turned to his desk. He picked up a piece of paper that looked like a check and waved it at me. I got up and almost ran out of the office. But I am not that brave. Instead, I went over to him and accepted it.
"My wedding present," he said. "This money is for you. For services rendered."
I looked down at the piece of paper in my hands. I had to clench my teeth so I would not show how shocked I was at the number of zeros. It was more money than I knew to do with.
"And there'll be more of that if you give me a grandson."
"Excuse me?"
"One or two is fine, but if you can, I think a big family would be great. Maybe four children. Not all have to be boys, of course."
I was too stupefied to tell him he can't simply demand children like he was ordering them at a McDonald's drive through. He never spoke of children before and I never thought that far. Of course, children were going to be part of the equation. What politician would he be if he didn't have a nice set of two and a half kids to complete the perfect nuclear family picture? Carey and I hadn't talked of kids, and it seemed like he wasn't in a hurry to make them. We've been having protected sex so far and there were no plans to stop.
"Have you considered what Carey might want?" I said.
He shrugged. "Every man wants to have his progeny and leave a mark on this world. If he prefers daughters, then that's his prerogative. The check would still be half, though."
I let out an involuntary chuckle. "Mr. Hawthorne, I don't think you or Carey have the power to choose the gender of the child as much as you may try."
A loud crash of something cluttering to the floor outside paused our conversation. I had left the door partially open and my heart hammered as I wondered who might have heard us. There were only two people I didn't want to know, and that was my mother and Carey. Nolan went to the door, peeked his head through, then closed it with a slight scowl on his face. "Looks like someone stumbled onto the steel vase," he said, returning. "Stupid fucking caterers. You hire people, tell them to stick to one side of the house and still they get lost." He put air quotes around the phrase 'get lost.' He flashed a menacing smile. "You are about to fulfill your promise, Thalia. I hope you continue to do so in the future." The words sounded like a dismissal. I left the room, the check a lead weight in my hand.
I went to my room and picked up my phone to call Carey. Since we weren't married yet, Jacqueline had put us in separate rooms. Carey loved sneaking into mine whenever it was time to sleep. But, he wasn't answering his phone, so I sent him a text asking where he was. He answered after a few minutes. "I am with boys. Don't wait up for me."
Were they throwing him a stag party? His brothers were all here except for the youngest one, who was still in school. Their brother's refusal to have a bachelor party surprised them. But that was because I didn't want to do a bachelorette party since I barely knew my bridesmaids, and Carey had refused in solidarity. I guess the pressure finally got to him.
"Are you at a stag party?" I asked. He took time to respond, so I went to shower and it was when I finished my nighttime routine did he finally reply saying. "No."
The single word felt ominous. He's never given me such a closed ended response before. Maybe he felt guilty enjoying his quote 'last days as a free man' while I was couped up in his father's house. "Have fun," I wrote in response and went to sleep.
I barely spoke to Carey after that. He never responded to that last text, and when I saw him the following morning, it was at the breakfast table. His brothers surrounded him and barely paid attention to me when I greeted him. It must be the hangover, I thought. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like he had little sleep. Tyler, Levi and Sebastian, his younger brothers, were much more cordial. They were from a different mother than Carey, and a different mother from Nolan, Ivy, and Raine, and it showed. The three brothers were closer to each other than with their other siblings. And after some small talk, I asked them, "The stag party was that good?" They looked at me like I was talking gibberish. "You threw him a stag party, right?"
Tyler shook his head, Levi frowned, and Sebastian focused on his coffee. “If there was a stag party,” Levi said, “we weren't invited.”
I darted my gaze around the breakfast table. Nolan Sr was at the head reading the newspaper while eating toast. His wife and my mother were sitting beside each other as they talked about the wedding plans. They were the only people who looked sober. Nolan had glasses on; Carey was drinking juice that suspiciously resembled a hangover cure; and I was certain Sebastian spiked his coffee with bourbon. Tyler's eyes were bloodshot and Levi looked like he would rather be anywhere but here.
"So, what did you all do last night?"
"We went to a local bar, and we all drank a little too much. Your fiance more than us. Although now I think about it, maybe we should have done a stag party." Tyler squinted his eyes. "Is anything going on between you two?"
I could feel my pulse rapidly increasing. "No, why?"
Tyler shrugged. "He looked a little off. Could be wedding jitters. Ask Nolan. They spent most of the night together."
My gaze went to the eldest Hawthorne sibling. And as if he could feel me staring at him, he looked up from his phone. I was sure I saw his face darken, but I couldn't be sure while he had sunglasses on. He cast his gaze back to his phone as though I didn't exist. I turned to Carey, who seemed to do his best to avoid making eye contact with me.
Tyler lightly bumped my shoulder. "Wedding jitters. Nothing to worry about."
But he was wrong, and I was about to find out why on our honeymoon.