Safe With Me, Part 8 (The End) Read online

  This night was a mixture of business and pleasure for me. Business, because I had just signed forms that I normally would have faxed back to Gloria's office. This Kate situation involved a larger sum of money than I usually gifted. It meant more signatures on more forms. I also had a few other items to talk about, such as amendments to my will, and it was easier to sit down and let Gloria take papers out of her briefcase so we could look at the documents together in person.

  The 'pleasure' part of the night was twofold. One, I needed to get out of Lockwood and away from the chaos that had consumed my life over the past few days. And two, Gloria would often talk about Preston. Besides my time with Tyler, the happiest I'd ever been in my life was the eight months I spent with him. He was more of a friend than a father, which was reasonable, considering I didn't meet him or know about him until I was twenty. We got along like we'd always known each other, even though our backgrounds were entirely different. He was a rich, spoiled, eccentric man who never knew life without people to cook for him and make his bed. Or, in other words, his life was the complete opposite of mine. But he was determined to make it up to me in those eight months.

  "So," she said, "do you think we took care of everything?" She handed me a copy of my will with her notes written in the side margin.

  I took the paper and looked it over. "Uh… I think so." I stopped where she'd scrawled 'James Tyler Campbell, Jr.' It made me smile to see his name.

  "You're smitten."

  I felt my cheeks turn red. "A little."

  "Well, just remember." She patted my thigh. "I know some excellent wedding planners. The best in the business. Doesn't matter where you live, they can get it done."

  I shook my head. The idea of actually walking down an aisle toward him put butterflies in my stomach. "I don't know if it'll go that far."

  "Why not? Be optimistic. When you get married, you need to make sure it's to a man who makes you happy like that."

  Quietly, I sighed and straightened my back against the comfortable booth as I placed the document on the table. That kind of love felt so distant from me. The rest of my life? The concept was impossible to comprehend. My life had an inexplicable tendency to fall apart every five years or so, leaving me to fumble through the wreckage. At fifteen, my mom passed away. At twenty, I both found and lost my dad. And now, about a month away from twenty-six, I wondered if it was finally safe to stop holding my breath in nervous anticipation of the next horrific event.

  Gloria took the will and slipped it inside her briefcase. "You know, this reminds me of the day I first learned about you." She chuckled. "Your father, casually going over his will in that ridiculous silk robe."

  "Please tell me the story again?" I suddenly felt like a little girl begging for a bedtime story, and I didn't care. I needed a night to relax, and I was going to permit myself the rare indulgence of reveling in Preston's memory instead of pushing it away before it made me cry.

  "Very well." She gave me a knowing look; she was onto me. She probably brought up this memory of Preston on purpose. "Your father requested Richard and I be at his house for an important meeting at precisely ten o'clock that Saturday morning. We knew he had cancer, but it was only then we realized he hadn't been forthright about his prognosis."

  I took a drink of my Vodka Cranberry, tears already filling my eyes. I knew what she meant about the prognosis. Preston considered cancer to be his ticket out of this world. He wasn't depressed or unhappy, but he said he'd lived a full life and would rather not fill the rest of his days with pills and needles and pain. He had chosen a passive treatment method for his cancer — a decision he regretted deeply when he found out about me.

  "So," she continued, "he peered down at the fifty page document with a glass of aged bourbon in his hand. That was my first clue that something was amiss. He was famously known as a wine connoisseur, but he was drinking a shamefully expensive bourbon he received as a birthday present from a business associate, years earlier. The bottle had dust on the top from sitting in the liquor cabinet for so long. I guess he thought it was finally time to crack it open after all those years."

  I smiled and took another sip of my drink. I kept bottles of his wine and liquor in a cellar in my basement.

  She was about to go on when the waitress came by. We both nodded and said, "Yes, please," before she could ask if we each wanted another drink.

  "So anyway," Gloria said, "he'd dismissed the help for the day because he wanted to be alone. He was in that purple robe, examining his 'Last Will and Testament' as if he remembered all those names from over the years. Oh, you're so much like him." She laughed and rolled her eyes. "He was always calling us with, 'add this person to the will,' or 'I saw this tragic story in the paper. Send the widow a check.' All the time." Her eyebrows shot up. "All the time."

  I nodded, listening.

  She continued. "So, he had a pen in his hand and he went down the list, staring down his nose through his reading glasses like this." She imitated his expression. "We sat there for at least ten minutes, just watching him. He made a few notes, mostly underlining language that didn't sound quite right. And then he put a check mark next to one paragraph and circled your name. I clearly remembered the day several years earlier when he added the three Lombardi children to the will. He was very distraught when he heard about the accident." She paused, her lips tightening for a moment. "He shoved the document across the table. 'See if you can locate this girl.' So, we nodded and looked at your name. Then he took the document back and casually mentioned there was a slight chance he was your father."

  I laughed and picked up the cloth napkin from my lap to dry my face. The story was equally sweet and heartbreaking to me. Gloria put her hand on my shoulder and stopped talking, like she knew I'd heard enough for now. I was reminded of those sad conversations when Preston apologized to me, saying he didn't know Mom had two more children after Tabby. Their affair lasted a euphoric two weeks, ending with Mom deeply ashamed for cheating on her husband. So, he respected her wishes and never tried to contact her again. He went back to his estate in Charlotte and went about his life, thinking of her occasionally with a smile. He naturally assumed if he'd gotten her pregnant, she would have contacted him. After all, what woman in her right mind would get pregnant by a man of his stature, and then never tell him? It would've been like winning the lottery.

  Preston and I made a mutual decision not to have resentment over the past, but to live each day in abundance. He wanted me to look back on our time together and smile, the same way he looked back on those two weeks with Mom.

  Gloria and I sat there for a while longer until I started to yawn. We made plans to meet again for a light breakfast in the morning before she headed back to the airport.

  Maybe at breakfast I'd have the nerve to ask her if she thought Preston would be upset about me dropping out of college.

  Tyler

  Wednesday, February 2, 2011

  1:30 PM

  I listened to Susie's message again on my way to check on her house. She left it early in the morning while I was in the shower. She just wanted to let me know she'd be back this afternoon but she had a crazy day ahead of her. Also, she was still getting prank calls and her phone would be off until further notice. At the end of the message, she paused for a long time, then said, "Okay, bye." Maybe she just wasn't ready for the standard 'I love you' at the end of a message, but it sounded like she was working up to it.

  I shook my head and chuckled as I took a right turn onto her street. Soon, everything would be back to normal.

  The first thing that struck me about her house was the shiny new window in front. It stuck out to me like a sore thumb after what Joan did. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't have looked twice. I parked my car and got out to do a quick walk-around to make sure it all looked secure before she returned that afternoon. As I walked around the side of the house, I thought I heard the front door open. Instantly, I turned around and ran to the base of her porch steps.

  A petit
e woman with short, dark hair was on the porch, airing out a throw rug which she then hung over the porch railing. When she turned around, I saw her glasses and the graying hairs around her face and immediately recognized her from Mom's frequent Facebook picture commenting. It was Susie's Aunt Lydia.

  "Hello?" I said.

  She looked around, startled, at the sound of my voice, but when she saw me her face lit up with a smile. "You're Tyler." She waved her arm, welcoming me up to the porch. "Come on in. I just got here."

  "Okay." I walked up the steps, confused. Susie hadn't said anything about Lydia coming to visit. "It's nice to meet you in person."

  She reached up to hug me. "I feel like I already know you."

  "Yeah, me too." I put my arms around her small body. She seemed so much taller in pictures. I followed her inside and asked, "So, where's Susie?"

  "Oh dear." She shook her head and tore off to the downstairs bedroom. "I don't know. I've been trying to call her for days. I learned of her arrest this morning."

  I followed her into the bedroom, "So she doesn't know you're here?"

  "No." She started to pull items out of a large cardboard box that sat on top of the bed. "Since, you're here, I hope it means you and Susie are doing better. You seemed so good for her."

  That's when I felt a tap on my back. I turned around to see Rosita, wearing the same green scarf and coat she wore the day I first met her.

  Her eyes were huge. She took my arm and nodded for me to come out of the bedroom, but she stuck her head inside for a second to talk to Lydia. "I have to go now. I have an important appointment."

  Lydia walked over and gave her a quick hug. "Thanks for your help today."

  "Yes. Nice to meet you." Rosita gave her a smile when she pulled away, but as soon as Lydia's back was turned, her grave expression was back. She hooked her arm around mine, leading me out to the porch where she closed the door behind us and said, "I think I did a bad thing. Susanna would not approve of this."

  "Oh no." I had a feeling she was right.

  "Have you spoken with her?" She sounded frantic.

  "Not since yesterday. She's supposed to come back today."

  She frowned. "I really do have to go. Tell her I'm so sorry. I thought I was helping but when they started going through all of her things I knew I was wrong."

  "They?"

  "Yes. Her brother is in there." Rosita nervously tightened her scarf as she explained what happened. Lydia obtained Rosita's phone number from Sherry, who had a spare emergency key, but only to the front door. Sherry let Lydia into the house but immediately had to rush out to work at the truck stop. Rosita thought she was doing the right thing by letting Susie's worried aunt into some of her rooms.

  The front door opened before Rosita was finished speaking. She gasped and shuffled away quickly, muttering a soft, "Goodbye," to me.

  Lydia took one step outside and peered down at Rosita as she started down the steps, then she shook her head and put her hand around my elbow. "Tyler, I want you to meet someone."

  I walked back inside where Lydia gestured toward a guy with short dark hair stood outside the downstairs bedroom.

  "This is Susie's little brother, Matt," she said.

  He extended his hand. "Hi Tyler. It's nice to meet you."

  I hesitantly shook his hand. "Yeah. You too."

  When he let go of my hand, he said, "I can tell you haven't heard anything good about me."

  "No, I…" What could I say? She hadn't told me much. To me, he looked like a normal guy I'd see every day around campus. He was a little shorter than me and he wore a sweatshirt and jeans, just like every other guy I saw around campus. I'd never seen a picture of him before but I guess I expected him to look a little like Susie, even though she swore there was no resemblance. She was right.

  It was strange to be standing in her house, looking at the brother she hadn't spoken to in over ten years.

  Lydia asked, "So, are you and Susie back together?"

  "Yeah." I sighed. "Listen, I don't know if she'd like you in here, going through her rooms. She's supposed to come back today."

  "She is?" Lydia's eyes and mouth were both open wide. "You've heard from her?"

  "Uh-huh. Yesterday."

  Lydia and Matt shared a curious look, then Lydia said, "I've been trying to call her since Saturday. I received some disturbing information on Friday night. I simply had to check on her. Oh, that girl has no idea how she worries me."

  "Wait," I said, "what disturbing information?"

  Lydia put her hand on her hip. "Did you know she has a two hundred and fifty gallon bathtub upstairs?"

  "Uh.." Yes, I fucking love that bathtub. "You came all the way from Kenya because of a bathtub?"

  She raised one eyebrow at me. "No one needs a bathtub that big unless they have a village full of children to bathe. I can tell she had the entire floor reinforced to hold the weight of that thing. She has wasted so much money, spoiling herself in this house. That's not why I wanted her to live here." She lifted her hands in front of her as her voice got louder. "I wanted her to have the home she never had before. I wanted her to finally make some good decisions and start taking care of herself. Perhaps get closer to her family."

  As she lifted her glasses to wipe her eyes, Matt put his arm around her shoulder.

  "It's okay, Lyd." He kissed her forehead. "She'll come around someday." He rubbed her shoulder for a while until it looked like she was no longer crying. "Hey, why don't you go on and sort through that box we found. Let me have a talk with Tyler."

  She took a deep breath like she was steeling herself and said, "Okay," then walked to the downstairs bedroom.

  "Hey." Matt's voice was quiet. "Come back here."

  I followed him to one of the only rooms I hadn't been inside yet. Susie never told me why, but I'd sensed long ago that she protected this room; she'd bite her cheek and get quiet at any mention of opening this particular door. Today, it was wide open, and it contained nothing like I'd imagined. It was in the corner of the house, so it naturally had more windows than any of her other rooms, yet all of the windows had heavy drapes. I assumed they were to prevent someone from seeing inside. It reminded me of a child's bedroom. There was a twin-sized bed against the corner and dressers around the walls, all full of toys and pictures and trinkets.

  "See this?" He looked around the room with sadness in his eyes. "Most of this is stolen. I guess depends on how you look at it." He shrugged. "I don't know how she got it. We thought all this stuff was lost in a fire about five years ago." He went to the dresser and picked up a stack of pictures and stared down at the one on top. "Not the furniture. That came with the house when Lydia handed it over. But all this other stuff. I don't know why she has it."

  He put the pictures down and walked up to me. "Let me explain why we're here. Lydia only told me and a few other people she was coming to visit Susie. I came when Lydia started panicking because she hadn't been able to get in touch with her."

  "She's had her phone off. Nobody can reach her right now. She was getting harassed."

  "I'm sure. I heard about what happened. But you gotta understand something. We've been through this before. Listen, Lydia still thinks of it as her house, but I know we don't have the right to be here. I felt bad about it until I saw this room." He paused for a breath. "I hear you have a sister. Is that true?"

  "Yeah."

  "Okay. So, what would you do if she cut you out of her life? I just want my sister back. I've been trying to apologize for years." He looked like he was about to cry. "I think about her every day. I send her cards. Letters. She never answers. I stopped trying to call years ago. Got tired of the rejection." He turned away and picked up a doll that sat on top of the dresser. "I gotta wonder if she thinks about me and Tabby. Maybe that's why she took all this stuff." He turned to me. "Does she ever talk about us?"

  "Uh…" Aw, fuck. Why'd he have to say all that? I felt for him. I could tell he was sincere. He wanted a relationship with Susie again,
and why wouldn't he? I sure as hell knew what it was like to miss that girl. "The only thing she ever really said was that you guys accused her of killing your parents."

  He hung his head, sighing. "I know. We were stupid and immature. Lost our parents and had to take it out on someone, I guess." He quickly wiped tears from his eyes. "We fucked up." He nodded. "We hurt her, badly. I know that. And she wants to pay us back. I'm sure that's what it is but…" He took a deep breath. "I miss her. I wish I could change the past but I can't." He picked up a stack of photos.

  It ripped me apart to watch him go through each picture. The first few gave him a little grin. He came to one that made him look so pitiful, I had to turn away.

  Daisy, my precious little baby sister. Every day after she learned Susie and I broke up, she called or sent me a text message to try to cheer me up. Some days, it actually worked. She was one of my favorite things about going home. We didn't always have an easy relationship, especially the first couple years after Dad died, but I couldn't imagine a life without her. What if all I had left were memories locked up in a room somewhere?