CHAPTER 39: REAL TALK

BRIAN:

I wanted to beg Justin and Blake to stay. It’s not that I’m afraid of the pod person still in my office, but really, what can I say to her? ‘I forgive you for all the times you made my life hell?’ ‘It’s nice that you’re getting help and I wish you well on your sober journey?’ What the fuck am I supposed to say, or more importantly, what am I expected to?

“I would ask what you’re thinking, Brian, but I suspect I already know.”

“Really?”

She nods at me. “Indeed I do, since I’ve asked myself the same question a million times since this journey into sobriety began.”

“What was your question?” I can’t help but want to know if we’re thinking along the same lines.

For someone who has never wanted something in common with this woman, I’m strangely seeking some common ground now… not that I will tell her that, in case this is all some dream while I’m really in a medically-induced coma or some such shit. Maybe I’m high or something… but then, Justin and I didn’t seek out Anita last night while we were out. So that kills that theory. Nope! This must be a coma. It’s the only reasonable explanation I can come up with right now.

“You’re wondering if I’m the real deal; if I’m really ready to make the conscious decision NOT to drink myself to oblivion. I can assure you that it is and that I am. Having firemen wake you up- men that you didn’t let into your home, let alone remembering that you were in a running car in the first place- is one of the scariest experiences of my life. And it’s one that I never plan to willingly put myself in again.”

“Is that the only thing that made you want to stop drinking?”

“Isn’t that enough?” She shrugs and then sighs in the face of my skeptical look. I know there was more to it than just facing death on her part. “Fine, Brian. There were other factors that played a part in my decision. Part of it is that my liver is significantly damaged, but that wasn’t the primary reason.”

“What was?”

“You.”

“Me? Why, when you’ve never given a shit about me before?”

“It’s not that I didn’t give a shit, to use your word, about you, Brian. It was more that I didn’t care what happened to me. Before you came along, Jack would beat me, but never touched Claire. When I found out I was pregnant with you, things got even worse for a time. It wasn’t just that your father told me to get rid of you, but that I was too far gone to do so, even if it was what I had planned to do before he ordered me. The thing is, Brian, that finding out I was carrying you prevented me from leaving Jack.”

“And so you abused me because of it?”

She winces at my choice of words, but that’s exactly what it was. “You don’t have to understand my position, but I would like for you to try. I was nineteen years old, married to a man with minimum education, just like me. A man who happened to be an abusive drunk. I wasn’t fine with that, but at least I was sort of semi-surviving the trauma. The problem came when I met Martin Young again, years after I had married Jack and had Claire.”

“Who’s he?”

“The man who really should have been your father. Martin and I knew each other through our parents, who were part of the same bridge club. Back then the game was really popular, but in those days, although children were to be seen at all times, we weren’t to be heard. Consequently, that wasn’t just during our parents’ social gatherings, but at other all times. So when my father introduced me to Jack and his parents, it was expected that I would do everything to cultivate that relationship instead of the one Martin and I were trying to build. In my father’s world, Martin was too straight-laced and opinionated for his liking. Which now when I think about it, seems strange considering he barely said anything to my father. I later discovered what it was that made my father put up with Jack as opposed to Martin. Whereas Martin was a stand-up young man, and going places, my father couldn’t stand the idea that his possible son-in-law would be smarter, and more good-looking than he was. You get your vanity from him.”

I snickered. “I can’t argue with you since I didn’t know the man. But what does all of this have to do with Martin, and why he should have been my father instead Jack Kinney?”

“My father was a certain type of man, Brian. You’ve heard the old adage that girls often marry their fathers? Well in my case, that’s especially true. Just as Jack was abusive, Dubhdara MacKay was too, but in a more sinister way, and it was geared mostly towards his daughters and other young girls around their ages. So marrying Jack was the lesser of two evils.

“Years later, when Martin and I crossed paths again, I had already had Claire, and was pregnant with you but didn’t know it. He’d gone on to college and received his masters in Business. But more importantly, he came looking for me. We made plans to run away together. We agreed not to have sex until I could get away from Jack. I wasn’t so big on church back then, and as long as I was free of Jack, divorce was definitely an option. But I had suddenly taken ill, and Jack wouldn’t pay for me to go to the doctor even though he had the money. One day, while sitting in the park with Martin, he noticed and made an emergency appointment with his doctor, which he paid cash for. I found out I was four- nearly five- months pregnant with you then, and that the baby was Jack’s. Within a week, Jack was told, and Martin was gone from my life again.”

“So basically I was a constant reminder for you of the love you lost?” I know I shouldn’t have asked the question, but I needed to hear the answer anyway. Call me a masochist, but if she expects us to move forward, it’s going to call for total honesty. I believe she knows that since she answers…

“Yes, I guess you can say that. As you know Jack and I had a hateful marriage, and somehow it was easier to blame you than it was to admit that I’d made a real mistake by running from one monster into the unwelcoming arms of another with no escape in sight. And for that, I owe you so many apologies, Brian. Being heartbroken is no excuse for the abuse I inflicted on you.”

“Why didn’t you leave anyway?”

“And go where? I had no money, no job, and basically no future that I really wanted to live. Back then, women were allowed to work, but you had to have certain skills in order to do so. Other than keeping house, which we both know I was only partially good at, there wasn’t anything else I thought I could do. I was trained to run my husband’s house. Besides, could you imagine Jack Kinney letting his little woman work?”   

“So drinking became your escape?”

“That and church.”

I can’t excuse or forgive what she did to me, but I can understand her position a little bit better now. I just thought that she hated me, but from what I’m gathering, she hated herself as well. “So what do you want from me?”

“I guess whatever you are willing to give, Brian. I can’t mother you; I’ve already done a horrible job at that. But I can at least offer you my friendship as a start, if you’re willing to accept that.”

I think about that for a moment. In all these years, all I’ve ever had from her were accusations, beatings, or cold indifference and obligation. I have to wonder if I can really trust her not to fall back into the same old patterns. “Do you even know how to be a friend?”

She smiles. “Not really, since I’ve never really had any of those. Most of the women I know just live for your next downfall so that you can become gossip fodder…”

“Sounds like the straight female version of Gay P.A.”

“You’ll have to teach me about that, I suppose. But I’m not so old that I can’t turn a trick or two.”

There are so many ways to respond to that, but I opt for the most harmless of them. “First lesson is that tricks are something you are never to turn, talk, or think about.” When she looks at me puzzled, I add, “I have a feeling you are going to receive a crash course in why that is, sooner rather than later. For now though, let’s just not say that word.”

“O-kay.” She looks at me as if I’ve just lost my mind. But then she asks, “Does this mean you are willing to give me a chance to get to know you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know if I can, but there is someone I would like you to meet. After talking to her, maybe you can make an informed decision about whether you really want to know me or not.”

“Oh? Who is it?”

“Justin’s mother.”

MOLLY:

If my father thinks that I’m just going to stand idly by and let him do this to my brother, he is as dumb as the bitch he’s talking to!

“Perhaps if I appeal to Justin’s semi-sense of family, he’ll do his best to keep our asses out of jail, Claire. You’re not seeing the bigger picture here!”

“You want to tell him about Peter. So the fucking picture is pretty clear, Craig! I can’t have my ex-husband, John Senior, finding out about him. Beyond jail time, I could also lose John, Junior.”

“You would lose him anyway if you end up in jail!” My father huffs.

He hasn’t yet realized that while he and that she-wolf are yelling, that both John and Peter have figured out my favorite eavesdropping place and have now joined me. Strangely the first time I met them, there wasn’t any awkwardness. Usually Dad only comes here on his weekends with me. I suppose that has been only to use me as a distraction while he does whatever he does behind closed doors with that hard-faced cow. But now with the door open while they think we are outside playing, it’s all confirmed and even more revealed.

“All I’m saying is that if you go to Justin with this in the hopes that he will save our asses, he’s going to tell my brother. And if that happens, trust me when I tell you that jail will be the safest place for us. Plus, there’s already no telling what Novotny has been running his mouth about. From what I’ve always known about him, he’ll do and say anything to look blameless,” she says, fidgeting and finally deciding to just fold her arms instead. I want to smack the hell out of her with Miss Havisham's Book of Manners. But then again, she’s what my mother’s friends would call crude and uncouth. It’s hard to believe that she and Brian are even related!

“Then we need to work on our defense, first and foremost.”

“True, but I thought you said that your attorney, Glen, wasn’t willing to help us.”

“He’s wasn’t in terms of the trust fund issues. He also told me that I can’t sue Justin without expecting the fact that I’ve been siphoning off of his and now Molly’s trust funds for years to come out, along with everything else.”

“So what are we going to do?”

I turn to the guys, looking just as shell-shocked as I feel at finding out just how much of a crook my father is. I remember Justin telling me once that as long as you stayed where Dad wanted you, then you were always going to be the favored child. I didn’t understand what he meant until our house became a battleground between my parents. Truthfully, although sad that I wasn’t going to be like my friends from two-parent households anymore, I was so glad when my mother decided to divorce him. Not only was he controlling, but I learned that what he did to Justin was abuse. The day he slapped my brother drove that point home in a way words couldn’t. And when I heard what he’d done to Brian…. I’m still pissed that he didn’t press assault charges against Craig Taylor! I may be young, but you learn a lot between eavesdropping and when your idea of fun is reading law books. Like the fact that attempted vehicular manslaughter, and leaving the scene of an accident means automatic jail time. I suppose Brian didn’t do it because it would have hurt Justin. Thankfully the whole age of consent thing never came up, or if it did and Craig pursued it, he would have looked like the fool he is since Justin was a year passed it when he met Brian.

“We can’t stay here,” Peter whispers to us.

“We can’t move right now, otherwise they will see us,” I tell him.

“We have to. I… I can’t stay here, Molly. I need to get away from here. They already tried to use John to get money out of Uncle Brian. Can you imagine what they will do to Justin?”

“What do you mean?”

“He means that they had me say that my uncle tried to molest me, and then were going to demand money from him to drop the charges. Their friend, Michael, had done something to Peter, which caused him to end up in the hospital. That was the afternoon Uncle Brian had to watch me…”

“He tripped me while I was running behind a soccer ball. Then Mom demanded that my uncle keep watch on John while she took me to the hospital.”

“Wait, I think I remember that day. But I thought she said you got an injury at school during gym class,” I tell him, confused.

Mom had come home from having lunch with Justin and the idiot he was dating at the time, upset because Justin had quit the Diner. Also because he was trying to get her to at least like Ethan a little bit. In reality, she couldn’t stand him, and began to really understand why Brian and Justin worked, even though she never told Justin that. The change she said that bothered her the most is that while Justin was trying to get her to accept Ethan; with Brian, Justin didn’t give a damn if she accepted them or not. I think that’s when she started really being Team Brian, because Justin was completely different and more self-assured when he was with the older man.

“That was the story that Michael and Mom came up with. The truth was that she had pulled us out of school early, and met up with the Comic Dork at the park near it. Peter was running by while she and Michael were explaining what I was supposed to do, and Michael tripped Peter. Luckily, it was only a sprain and not the broken arm it could have been.”

“So what are we going to do? We can’t stay here!” Peter whispers frantically.

John shakes his at a complete loss, when I have an idea. “First, let’s get out of here. Then I need to get to my dad’s car…”

“Cool! Are we going to hotwire it?” John asks, excitedly.

“I swear, if there was ever anyone who wanted to grow up to be a felon…” I roll my eyes at him. Sometimes, John makes me wonder about him. I know he’s got a good heart, but seriously, he watches way too many movies! “No, we need to get my dad’s cell phone. The one thing I’ve always noticed is that when he visits here, he always leaves it in the glove box of the car.”

“Why? You’re not calling the Ghostbusters to get us out of here, are you?”

“John, you really need a brain doctor. I think you might have sat on yours too long.”

Instead of being angry, he starts snickering, and then we all do… that is, until Craig and Claire start looking around to hear where the sound is coming from. We take the chance that their backs are turned and sneak out of our hiding place back to the big bay window in the back of the den which is how we got in. Running around the front of the house, I try the doors but they’re locked. John decides to grab a brick and smash Dad’s window in. I guess sometimes it pays to think like a felon because it allows me to unlock the door and to grab the phone. Looking at each other, and the car for a moment knowing how much trouble we were all going to be in if we stayed, we decide to take off running down the street until we feel that we are far enough away.

“So… now… that we have… gotten away… who… the… hell… are… calling?” Peter pants, bending over with his hands on his knees, gulping in huge amounts of air. John reaches into his pocket and hands him the inhaler he always keeps on him for Peter since he always tends to forget his at home.

“We can’t stay here,” John says. “It’s still too close to the house. I think I know where we can go, but the thing is we’ll probably have to be outside. We also run the risk of the neighbors calling Mom, because my grandmother hasn’t been around lately. But it’s a safe neighborhood, and no one will hurt us.”

“Hiding in plain sight? I think I like that idea,” I say, thinking the plan over aloud. “If I make the call on the way there, even if the neighbors call Claire to let her know where we are, by the time she and my dad get to us, we could be out of their reach. Well that’s providing that I can reach my mom or Justin.”

Peter nods. After taking a couple of puffs off the inhaler, his breathing is more controlled again, and the wheezing cough is almost gone. I wish I could take it from him, just as I used to with Justin when he would have attacks. I shake my morbid thoughts away, and refocus on what he’s saying. “Make the call, Molly. We can try to make it to Grandmother’s, but if not, I think I know another place that Mom wouldn’t think of. Or if she did, she wouldn’t be so quick to go in there.”

“Annette’s?” John looks at him, smirking. I swear he reminds me of Brian when he does that.

Peter smiles back and nods again. “In fact, why don’t we just go there in the first place?”

I look at both of them as they snicker. “What is it? And who is this Annette person?”

John laughs loud then. “God Molly, you really are a WASP. We forget that sometimes until you start sounding all prim and proper.” He shakes his head at me before continuing. “Annette is my father’s former doxy- as my mother calls her. The truth is that Annette is to my dad, a lot like you say Daphne is to Justin. Oh shit! We need to tell Dad what Mom has been up to and that Peter…”

We all know what he’s left unsaid. Peter pulls him close. “Don’t worry, John. We’re still brothers. But my problem is a lot bigger. I don’t know who is going to take me once both of my actual parents are in jail where they obviously belong.”

“But Dad…”

“Your dad, John… your dad,” Peter whispers, and my heart breaks for him. I have to break this up before we all start crying.

“Look, let’s get to this Annette person, and then we’ll call my mother. Perhaps Annette will also have some ideas about the problem, too? And don’t forget, Peter, that you are also my brother, and I protect my own. Same goes for you too, John. One is mine by blood, the other by bond. As long as I remain the only girl, I’m perfectly fine with remaining the spoiled princess that I am,” I finish snootily, and they laugh which was my intention.

With a plan of action in mind, we get moving while I call Mom to explain why I’m not at school or with Dad. She was just arriving to pick me up when I called. I hand the phone to John for him to give her the address to the lady’s restaurant. Which is a good thing because with all this sneaking around, I’m hungry. And the last thing anyone wants is to have a hungry me on their hands to deal with; yet another thing I share in common with both of my big brothers, and the youngest as well. It's going to be great being the only sister!