“I am an
a
ssistant
c
reative
d
irector at an
a
dvertising
f
irm.” I hope Taylor will move the conversation along, but he is too focused on his food. “Your home is beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Oh, about 25 years, since Taylor was about seven. Before that we didn’t live in this house.”
“It’s okay, she knows.” Taylor says between bites.
Randall is taken aback. “Oh, of course you do. I am not used to speaking about that so openly. Well, then you know I didn’t have him until he was seven and this was the home we bought shortly after, to have a fresh start as a family.”
“I would have loved to grow up in house like this.” Taylor gives me a playful eye roll. That’s right, this house was probably a war zone between him and his brother.
“You grew up in the city?”
“Yes. Just my mother and me.”
“How is she doing, your mother?”
This is awkward.
“She’s well. She doesn’t live here anymore. She took a job out of state.”
Taylor finally speaks up. “Shyla and her mother both struggled to get out of poverty. It seems like after I was found, they had to start all over on their own.”
Randall’s face becomes solemn. I want to believe that comment wasn’t a dig, but Taylor is far too smart to say something like that and not realize its implications. As grateful as he is to his father, I believe he is upset at how my mother was told to go away without recompense. When she discovered Taylor, our roles reversed and he became the adored one, and I the fatherless inconvenience.
“I’m sorry to hear that. It is admirable what you and your mother have been able to overcome,” Randall says stoically. He is hard to read. Not as hard as Taylor, but still difficult nonetheless.
I try to steer the conversation in a lighter direction. “The fog is so heavy today.”
“Yes, the forecast says it will clear up tomorrow. Perhaps Taylor can take you out on one of the boats and show you around.”
“That would be great.”
“We’ll have a lot of fun tomorrow,” Taylor assures me.
Eventually Nan walks in, her hair freshly slicked back and wet, wearing a white oxford shirt over a pair of cropped wine-colored slacks. She grabs a far smaller plate than mine and just a few appetizers. I eye my plate and then Taylor’s plate, which are nearly equally full of food.
Great, they are going to think I am an impoverished food hoarder.
“How was your drive up?” She asks.
“It was fine, no traffic, but a lot of fog,” Taylor says.
“It didn’t settle here until the afternoon. You seem to have brought it with you.” Taylor lets out a half-hearted smirk. “Your brother is up to no good again. Looks like he’s found some trouble. The police called here with questions.”
Well this is a little heavy for a family birthday brunch with a new guest.
Taylor sits upright, his chair makes a loud rubbing sound against the floor that cuts into the silence of the dining room. “Yes, did they tell you what he did?”
Randall remains silent.
“I told them we did not want to speak to the police regarding matters of Eric, that we hadn’t seen him in years and they could speak to our lawyers if they had any other questions.” Her indifference is shocking, but I believe she is fatigued by a lifetime of her son’s erratic behavior. Either that, or it hurts to know what he is up to. The topic of discussion makes me want to slither under the table.
“I guess dad didn’t tell you he was following Shyla recently.”
Shut up Taylor!
“Well for Christ’s sake! No he didn’t. I am sorry Shyla. These two boys could never get along.”
Well that is the understatement of the millennium.
“I didn’t even know he might have been in the area until the police called. As soon as they started questioning, I shut them down. You try your best to do the right thing, but they are who they are. Randall knows better than to bring up Eric’s bad news I suppose. It’s not like Eric doesn’t know where to find me if he was interested in seeing his mother again. I will always be here, but I have given up on trying to track him down. I have had way too many sleepless nights over him.” Her aloofness baffles me. I’m not sure if Taylor understands that it’s not just him she is aloof with, but that it is likely her general disposition. She kind of reminds me of a cyborg. My mother, who often worked with drug addicts who ran away from home would deal with parents who would endlessly comb the world over for their kids. Although, I understand why she would want to avoid the pain of hearing about her greatest failure.
“It’s fine. Everything’s okay now,” I chime.
Yes, your son is now a fugitive rapist. Everything is a-okay!
“He didn’t do anything to you did he? Is that why the police were asking about him?”
“No. I haven’t seen him in a good while,” I say, turning to Taylor for some assistance in ending this topic of conversation.
“I think I’m going to take Shyla for a walk around the property. You’re welcome to come, dad.”
“No, this weather makes me achy. You two go ahead.”
We grab our jackets and emerge out of the front door. Taylor walks towards the lake briskly and I follow behind him.
“That was really weird,” I say.
“Which part?”
“I don’t know, I guess all of it. Nan bringing up Eric like that for one. Oh and thanks for mentioning that Eric was stalking me, that helped a lot.”
“I like to remind them both that it’s better he’s gone.”
“I didn’t realize they would call your parents. Does your dad know about the investigation? That he attacked me?”
“He said the police mentioned he was a suspect in an assault case. The cops can’t disclose your identity due to the nature of the crime. I made sure with the detective that even though it was a family matter, you did not want them knowing you were the victim.”
“I didn’t even think of that possibility. That they might find that out. I really don’t want them to know that. It would be so weird and uncomfortable.”
“I can’t promise it won’t ever come out. If they find him and we have to go to trial…”
“God. I just hope he stays away.”
“Even if it did come about, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Eric is in the wrong. We are doing what we have to do to right his wrong. Lucky for us, Nan is really in denial about Eric. She’s really pissed at him for leaving. She’s not the type to blindly defend her son as you can tell.”
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but she’s very icy. I mean, almost robotic.”
“Yeah, I told you, she’s a little frigid towards me. It goes both ways though.”
“I think she’s a little frigid in general, Taylor. She seems pretty indifferent about her own son.”
“Well she thinks Eric just up and left one day and never came back. So she’s really bitter about that. She doesn’t know about the agreement. Eric didn’t want her to know about the accusations against him of trying to have me killed and my father didn’t want to deal with her blaming him for the whole mess. So she thinks he left to start over, away from all of us. He was always a handful, so it made sense.”
“Oh my god, so all of you just let her think her son just up and left?”
“Yes. It worked for all sides.”
“Probably not for her though.”
“It’s better she doesn’t know what her son is capable of. You heard her, she doesn’t even want to know.”
“I suppose. It’s just weird how she is so open about it, yet so avoidant at the same time.”
“Welcome to the Holden family. Thick skin required as there is no pussy-footing. You’re the first woman I’ve brought home, so I think they realize you are a special person. They also both know about your newly discovered past, so I think they know you ‘get it.’”
“Well there’s one benefit. Thirty-two years old…They must’ve hounded you all the time about making some grandkids since Eric is out of the picture.”
“No, they know me and they came to terms with it all a long time ago. They just thought I’d be a perpetual bachelor, jumping from one casual relationship to another.”
I didn’t know sex slaves were casual.
“My father was pretty shocked to find out about you.”
“I guess I cracked the code.”
“I could still end up a bachelor,” he says playfully.
“You better watch your mouth,” I say in jest. While he was joking, the thought stings a bit. “Hey, was it me, or were you sticking it to your dad with that comment about me and my mom being on our own?”
“It wasn’t you.”
“What was that all about?”
“I don’t think he treated you fairly. He was wealthy. The least he could have done was set you and your mother up. He told me he was in shock and didn’t think of it. When the dust settled, he claims he didn’t know how to find her, but I don’t buy that. That was just an excuse. It seems no one wants to be reminded of their mistakes, so it’s easier to just pretend they didn’t exist.”
“It is what it is. We all have fucked up at some point.”
“It’s just, I look at all of the things I had, and I know you went without for so long.”
“It’s okay. It builds character.”
“So do sports and charity work. It’s no excuse. You should have been helped. Your mother saved my life. He should have helped her.”
“My mother wanted to do things her way. I’m not going to blame your father for what happened to me and you shouldn’t either.”
“I hold people responsible for what they could have done better. First, he impregnates a sixteen year old girl, then he turns his back on the woman who saved me. It makes me question his integrity. What else he has hidden from me? He protected my piece of shit brother who tried to have me killed. He didn’t even warn me Eric was in town. For too long I have cut him slack because he did what he was supposed to do as my father.”
Tell him. Tell him his mother’s body was never found.
“But you said you didn’t want to know more.”
“That’s different.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to call you on some of your bullshit.”
“Excuse me?”
“My mother wants to clear stuff up and you don’t want to hear it.”
“There are facts, and there are opinions. Your mother wants to convince me that my mother loved me. Well fuck that. What she put me through wasn’t love, and nothing your mother can say can change my opinion. Love is shown, not spoken. Unless Lyla can crawl out of a grave and prove herself, the case is closed.” I don’t say anything, just continue to walk alongside Taylor. “Listen, I know you are trying to help. I do. But just because your mother decided to open up to you, it doesn’t make me obligated to have to talk to her about it. I want to move forward with you, not sit around reminiscing about our extraordinarily shitty pasts. You could tell me my mother was a guardian angel, you could tell me that she had good intentions, but it won’t make the nightmares stop, it won’t make me a nicer person, it won’t make me hate people less, or want to hug my family. I am who I am. There is something you need to understand about me. Who I am with you, is not who I am with everyone else. It’s important you remember that, or you will be disappointed.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t ask again.”
“You know I have no problem asking for what I want so there’s no need to insist upon something. If I want to do something, I’ll tell you.”
We hike through the woods to a high point where Taylor used to go as a child.
“When I wanted to be alone, which was often, this is where I came.” In the vista the tops of trees peek out from a dense mist. Green, gold, and orange mountains along the horizon look too perfect to be real. We sit on a large rock. “It’s still here,” he says pointing to an etching of his name in the stone in jagged letters. “It’s getting dark, we should head back. I hope you worked up an appetite because they really do expect us to eat all that.”
We return back to the house and eat another meal. A woman floats around the house who was not present before
.
A
pparently she is Randall’s caretaker, Marnie. She tells us that Randall is resting in his study. Nan left the house to run errands. Once we are finished, Taylor says he has surprise plans for me later. Just as he is about to explain, his cell phone rings.
“Shit, it’s Nan. She has a flat. Stay here, I am going to go get her quick.”
“You sure you don’t want me to come?”
“No, it’s starting to rain. You’d just be sitting in the car. It shouldn’t be long. Make yourself at home. There’s a TV in our room or in the living room.”
The front door slams and the beams of light from the SUV filter through the front window curtains as he pulls away. I settle on the living room couch and flip through the television channels, looking for something to watch. The house is so still that I forget that Randall is still somewhere in it. I find some detective show and settle in, after a while I nod off, only to be awoken by Marnie.
“Miss Shyla?” I shoot up, a little embarrassed that I was caught snoozing on the couch. “Sorry honey. Randall wants to see you in his study.”