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Authors: Loralee Abercrombie

What Brings Me to You (11 page)

BOOK: What Brings Me to You
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*****

 

              Nancy, the consummate genius observer, pretty much pegged me: eighteen and poor, so she decided that simple and youthful would be best for Teddy's dinner party. She found an orangey-pink, sleeveless, cotton shirt dress with buttons all the way down the front that she said I should try. I did as I was told, though it was not something I ever would've picked out; I thought it looked kind of like a cantaloupe. When I tried it on, Nancy said it complemented my skin perfectly and that it was a "must have". She added a skinny green belt around my waist and picked sandal-looking shoes with wide crisscrossing straps on a platform; she kept calling them "wedges". I hadn't ever really walked in heels, but these were surprisingly easy to maneuver.                             Nancy took the liberty of picking out a simple gold and silver watch to go with it, since I didn't have my ears pierced. I decided I should try to put on some make-up, though I didn't really know what I was doing. I crept into my parent's bathroom and browsed my mother's things. I couldn't do anything with the base even if I knew how because everything she had was way too light. I did find a brown mascara which I applied, remembering watching my mother do it, and a peach toned blush that I dabbed lightly on my cheeks. Since the dress had a collar I gathered my hair off my face and into a high ponytail. It wasn't much, but at least it looked like I tried.

              All afternoon while I dressed and floated around, buoyant on the residual feeling from that mornings escapade with Teddy, I thought a lot about our relationship. I thought about the next steps with him. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for sex, and I doubted Teddy wanted that with me -at least not yet, but I couldn’t keep letting him please me without giving him something. Even though it’s what I wanted, the thought always brought me back to a dark place where I was scared and out of control. I knew in my mind Teddy was not a monster like Adam, that he would never intentionally hurt me that way but it was still too much to process. I never thought about sex with anyone. I never thought anyone could desire me that way. Me: dirty and broken, ugly and scared. Teddy changed everything for me. He wanted me. He said he was going to stick around. He called me his girlfriend. I trusted him. That was a truth that was scary and new for me. I really trusted Teddy with my heart. In the end I decided not to dwell on it too much. I trusted Teddy, he wanted me, I’d do what I did that morning and just enjoy the feeling of us being together. In the moment, I’d know what to do or what not to do.

      When I spied Teddy get out of his car the arguments that I’d been having with myself about how to get physical seemed to come into sharp focus. My heart may or may not have skipped a beat. I realized it was the first time I'd seen him in real clothes -he was wearing straight khaki colored pants that fit him perfectly and a simple, baby blue polo shirt that, even from the driveway, I could see made his eyes pop. He exited his car with a large white shopping bag that I thought maybe we'd forgotten to bring in last night. When I opened the door for him he stopped in his tracks.

              "What do you think?" I asked and twirled around for him once.     

              "I told you this morning that I think you're beautiful." There was no irony in his voice. He wasn't going to add any 
but
. He really did think I was beautiful which took me a moment to let sink in. “I think you’re beautiful, Charley,” he repeated  reverently. “Even without all of that. Even when you’re wearing a frumpy bathing suit and a giant straw hat.” I blushed and was about to walk out the door when he stopped me.     

              "The party doesn't start until six. I was hoping I could come in for a minute?" His voice went up at the end like a question and he seemed almost nervous which I thought was very sweet.     

              "Sure," though his demeanor put me on edge.     

              He sat on my folding chair with the bag tucked between his knees. "Don't be mad," he started and I thought:
Well when you start like that...
but he continued, "I went to the store today."

              "Why would I be mad about that, Teddy?"

              "Because I...well, here this is for you." and he pulled a large white box out of the shopping bag.

              He placed the box in my lap and I noticed a with dark brown "LV" logo on the top. I didn't recognize the logo, but it didn't look cheap. When I opened it there was a beautiful, soft brown leather messenger bag. My mouth dropped open.     

              "I thought, since you'll be starting school soon you should have something nice for books," he said casually. I ran my hands over the smooth brown leather and the "LV" embossed into the flap. It was beautiful and screamed expensive. I couldn't accept it and opened my mouth to tell him as much but he anticipated my reaction.

              "Don't argue with me. Since no one else will acknowledge your accomplishments, I am. You deserve presents. Open the bag, there's more."

              Is he serious?
  He was looking at me expectantly, excitedly, he couldn't wait for me to open it and I wasn't sure that I wanted to. I took the bag out of the tissue lined box and felt its weight. Whatever else was in there it was heavy. I lifted the flap and there was a long, thin, silver item in the largest compartment. I placed my hand on it and it was cool to the touch. When I lifted it out I immediately recognized the apple symbol and froze.

              "It's a Mac Book Pro. The guy said this was the best one for students," He said wearily, trying to judge my reaction. As if the bag wasn't enough, now this? "You're going to need it in college, baby. Trust me." I did trust him, but there was no way I was accepting this it was too much. He was too much. I thrust the box and its contents at Teddy and closed my eyes. I couldn't look at him, I couldn't bear this. It was too much. Teddy, without getting upset, simply crossed my little room and sat down next to me. He put his long arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. I didn't fight him. I couldn't; I had no more fight left. He kissed the top of my head as I tried with everything I had not to sob.

              "Shh baby," he said reassuringly, "I figured you were going to react...not well. But you have to accept this from me."

              Why?
Without having to ask, he answered.

              "Because you deserve...everything. You deserve to be spoiled. I hate that no one is there for you. It hurts me that no one has loved you. You deserve to be loved," his voice was cracking like he was going to cry. In a swift movement he was kneeling on the floor before me so he could look at my face. "I'm probably crazy for saying this so soon, but I don't care. I love you, Charley."

              I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. I had to grip the edges of the bed because I felt like I was going to spin right off. He kept his hands on the tops of my knees and I knew he was staring at me, hoping I'd respond. He reached into the bag and pulled out a tiny baby blue colored box wrapped in white ribbon and placed it into my lap.     

              "Please, open it, he pleaded." My hands were shaking so much it took forever to untie the delicate bow. When I opened the box there was the daintiest silver chain with a square pendant around it that looked like a die. On each side of the square was a letter that spelled L-O-V-E. I gasped when I realized he'd bought it for me. That he'd been thinking of saying it -it wasn't just a spur of the moment thing. That he was willing to tell me he loved me even though we hadn’t had sex and probably wouldn’t for a while. He took the box from me and in a moment he had swooped my hair over my shoulder to clasp the pendant behind my neck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

Teddy

 

              I left her that morning sure of what I wanted to do for her. I loved her. I knew I loved her even before I made her come apart in my hands. I knew I loved her even before I got a really good look at her waifish body. I knew I loved her even if it meant I’d wait forever for her to be ready to sleep with me. It wasn’t about sex. It was making her feel desired, appreciated. Happy. Maybe for the first time ever.

              I drove to the mall immediately because I knew that I was getting her the laptop, then after I'd bought it, realized she'd need something to carry it in which is what brought me to Louis Vuitton. It was all totally practical. Then, on my out, I passed Tiffany's and I'd wandered in without any particular gift in mind, but when I saw it I knew I had to get it for her. I wasn’t sure when I’d give it to her, but she had to have it and it had to come from me.

              Seeing her, the look of utter disbelief on her face, when I gave her the presents broke my heart for her. Again. She'd never ask for anything from anyone. She'd wear nasty, frayed jeans and hoodies and hole up in the campus library forever if it meant never accepting help or, as she though of it, charity. She was so strong on the outside, but seeing her then, helpless and needy, I understood her. What she needed, more than clothes or a computer, was someone to show her they genuinely cared for her. I wanted to give it all to her; my family and you be damned. So like a fool, and after only knowing her a month, I told her I loved her. I never thought I’d tell anyone that, Lace.

              Charley didn't return the "I love you" in fact, we'd left her house and were driving to mine in complete silence for over ten minutes. I worried that I'd created a new tic as she absentmindedly twisted the square pendant round and round at her throat. She finally broke the silence.          

              "Teddy, I know who you are."

              "I know you do. So?"

              "Don't you want to know how I know?"

              "Everyone has the Internet."

              "I didn't until about twenty minutes ago." She had a point but I decided I didn't care how she knew. Maybe she'd seen me around or maybe heard some things. HCI was ubiquitous. Everyone I went to high school with either had a parent or relative working for the company. Truthfully, it didn't matter to me how she knew. What mattered was that she never treated me differently. I loved her for that; the freedom to be myself without shame.          

              "What are you getting at, baby?"

              "Teddy, you really don't pay attention to your dad's business at all, do you?"

              "Weird segue, Charley."

              "Just answer the question."

              "No."

              "No...?" She hung there waiting for me to proceed.

              "Oh no, you're not doing that to me. You need to ask me specific questions if you want answers." I mimicked her lilting voice as I parroted her words back to her.

              “Okay, fair enough. Why don't you pay attention to your dad's business?"

              "Because I don't care."

              “Why?"

              "Because I don't."             

              "This is really mature."             

              "Why should I?"

              "Because you're poised to inherit a global company that affects the lives of millions and you're completely disinterested in anything that has to do with the business.” I sighed wearily. Holmes Communications Inc., had taken over everything. As my parents, and  
Forbes
   magazine liked to call it, it was a rags to riches American Dream kind of fairy tale. It was the brainchild of my grandfather, Gunther, when he was nineteen years old. He had a partner and investor in Peter Haag, age thirty-three and well established in the business community. They created an impossibly small telecommunications firm, which mostly consisted of tinkering and   politicking, to get electricity to their little village somewhere in the Netherlands. HCI quickly became the dominant telecommunications company there and then grandpa Gun bought out Haag. With cash in his pocket and a taste for power, he moved his family to the states with the intention to become the dominant telecommunications company here. He sought out rural, nearly unpopulated areas and lobbied the governments to sponsor more phone lines for the people in those areas. It wasn't long before they were calling him the poverty pied piper. Since he built the infrastructure, grandpa developed the technology to bring telecommunications to the poor and rural. HCI became the monopoly telecommunications company in the Southeast, then the Midwest. The company expanded and so did the interests and HCI branched out into other areas besides telecommunications. Basically, either grandpa got bored, or he got greedy. Or both.  The interest split to creating efficient farming equipment, and heating/cooling technologies and a whole host of other things. At last count HCI owned over a thousand technology patents. Twenty-five years after its initial inception, when the company went public in 1973, it sold for eight dollars a share. After more splits than I can count, the shares now hover around twenty bucks, even during a recession. When my father took over, it was the beginning of the  Internet Age. Dad is aggressive and he's an idea man -a visionary they call him, right up there with Steve Jobs and Oprah. He is credited with he changing the face of the company and keeping it current going into the digital age. What they mean is that he saw the writing on the wall. He divested the interests to less hardware and more software. HCI built an office in Silicon Valley, which now houses their entire on-line  and marketing team including an "app" division in R&D -bunch of nerds who pick their butts, in my opinion. The HCI commercial security software has been the most successful but dad is always working on new things. Since the green movement out west, he's worked with the Silicone Valley team on new solar panel patents. He's been working with the Chicago team on new wind energy grants. Then, two years ago, he saw an opportunity to go back to the company's roots. HCI received presidential grant money to research and develop a fiber optic infrastructure that would reach rural and poverty stricken areas. Dad's been focusing mostly on the South East and Midwest where HCI already has control, he'd been traveling back and forth to the Chicago headquarters a lot then to work and to see Mickey. Dad dabbled in other affairs, mostly in other countries, most of it bored me, but it’s not like I didn’t pay attention. I did, see? How would I know all of that if I didn’t.

              “I don't get it? Why so much revulsion?"

              "Dad and I don't really see eye to eye about...anything."

              "Are you the black sheep, too?" She asked humorlessly.

              "Sort of."

              "Teddy, talk to me."

              "That's it. My Dad and I don't see eye to eye. He pushed me to be part of HCI and never asked me if it was actually something that I want, which I do not. He pushed to make me his version of a man and I couldn't stand that shit. Mickey ate it all up, did everything dad did, but I was disinterested. HCI bores me, and dad pisses me off.

              "What about your mom?"

              "What about her?"

              "Are you alienated from her too?"

              "Not at all.” Dad pushed me to be someone I'm not, but my mom just wanted me to
be.
She never pressured me to do or say anything that didn't come naturally to me. From the time I was a child I had no interest in impressing my dad, unlike Mick. I, honestly, just wanted to be left alone to do my own thing, whatever that thing may be. Claire and mom respected that so I spent a lot of time with them avoiding my dad. “Mick gave me shit for it. Called me a fag for the longest time but I really didn't care. I dunno, maybe mom thought I was gay, too."

              "That seems harsh."

              "It's what brothers do, Charley."

              “I see," she paused. "Who is Claire?"

              "Lacey's mom."

              "You guys are really tight, then? You and Lacey, I mean." There was a hint of displeasure in her voice, but I had to tell her the truth. Brutal honesty. Fuck me.

              "Yea, I guess we are, but our relationship is different now. I mean, when I was young I spent so much time with mom and Claire that, as a byproduct of that, I spent a lot of time with Lacey. Andy, Lacey’s dad, was the founder of one of the first companies dad acquired. It was a really small firm based in Tampa and all the original employees remained in their same relative positions, but Dad still felt bad, back when he could feel at all, so he took Andy under his wing. They found they made a good team and actually had a lot in common personally so they got close as buddies. My mom and Claire got even closer; they even got pregnant at the same time -mom with me, Claire with Lacey. When the Cramer Clan, as Andy calls it, moved to California so he could spearhead some project he dad had cooked up, we were still babies, Mickey wasn't even born yet, but then they moved back. Dad wanted Andy as his right hand man so was promoted to CFO, mom and Claire wanted to raise their children together. When we were kids she was my partner in all things delinquent. Then, fifteen, freshmen at our private school, the boys took notice of her and she forgot about me.She got interested in HCI and I got interested in all things not  HCI so we pretty much went our separate ways.” This was mostly true. We stopped speaking to each other publicly in the ninth grade. What I didn't tell her was that fifteen was also when you threw herself at me and we started sleeping together. I could’ve mentioned that, I mean, in my defense I was fifteen and you were a sure thing. There’s no way she could’ve faulted me for it. The problem with telling her was I couldn’t blame why I
kept
doing it on being fifteen. It wasn’t so much that you were irresistible anymore either, because with money and good looks came easy lays, but it’s that you were convenient and familiar and you always wanted me. Always. It didn’t matter that I didn’t really like you that much. Sometimes I’d piss you off so we’d get into a screaming match to see how far I had to take it before you didn’t want me anymore and I never got far enough. You’d never once refused me. Ever. This I could not divulge to Charley while we were on our way to see you. Anyway, I didn't think that part mattered since, now that I had Charley, I wasn't ever going to do you again. Ever.“HCI is as much Lacey’s birthright as it is mine or Mickey’s. I still care about her but more like a distant relative. We see each other at holidays and stuff like this thing we're going to, but that's pretty much it. I don't know her whereabouts most of the time and she, for damn sure, doesn't know mine.”

              "Except when you sleep together."

              "Charley..."

              "I'm not upset; I'm just trying to get the whole picture."

              I sighed heavily. "Correction: 
slept,
past tense, together. I don't do that anymore and I don't intend to ever do that again. It stopped even before I met you, Charley." That was a half truth. I hadn’t slept with you since before Charley and I met, but I hadn’t made the
decision
to stop sleeping with you until afterward. I know that this is semantics and maybe in the end it’s really not a big deal, but that lie coming out of my mouth ate at me.

              "Why? I mean, not like I’d be okay with you sleeping with her or whatever but why did you stop?"

              "We just want different things."

              "Like what?"

              "She just loves this life. This world. You’ll see what I mean when we get to the house. She just wants it all so bad, and it’s really not that important to me.” The conversation I had with her replayed as we drove.

              "Is that why you don't care about the business? Because Lacey does."

              "No, that's why I don't care what Lacey does because I don't care about the business."

              "Seems convoluted.”

              “Such is the way of family ties.”

              “Must make things awkward for you and your families since you see each other so often."          

              "Not really.” I thought for a while I'd have to pretend around my mom, but she acted like she didn't notice the shift in my relationship with you which, knowing mom, she definitely knew but was choosing to remain quiet about because she wanted me to make my own mistakes. That was the only way, she said, I would grow. I was grateful to my mother then for keeping her mouth shut about you. She probably knew the whole time that you and I would be a colossal failure, but if she’d said anything it only would’ve made me want you more. Smart fucking lady. It was then, too, I realized how alike Charley and my mother really were, and the idea made me smile a little.

              "You're close. You and your mom." It was a statement and a wistful one which made my heart break for her. She was thinking of her and her own mother who shirked her parental duties and chose the comfortable life instead of her daughter.

BOOK: What Brings Me to You
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