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Authors: Annie Jocoby

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Chapter 3

Nick

I was sitting there with Scotty and Angie, listening to them talk about the situation, and all I that I could think of was how much I just wanted to kill Mr. Lucas. Literally. I wanted to go completely
Dexter
on him, and torture him slowly in an abandoned warehouse somewhere.

And, when Scotty revealed the number of times that Mr. Lucas had assaulted her, I felt my rage burning white-hot. I mean, she had told me before that he was doing it to her every night, but, somehow, just hearing the number – 400 – made it that much more real to me.

The reality of the situation – that there probably would be no justice done to this awful, evil predator – enraged me still further.

But I kept my emotions in check. I didn’t want the rage and anger to emanate off of me, as Scotty needed me to be calm and reassured. But it was so difficult to keep my anger at bay, as I knew the reality of what she was facing. How much it was going to be an uphill battle.

I thought about Rochelle, the woman who kidnapped, tortured and almost killed Iris. She didn’t serve prison time. She served a small amount of jail time – perhaps she was incarcerated for less than a month, as she was awaiting trial. But she hired the best attorney in the country, and she basically walked. Basically walked, after almost taking the life of the woman that my best friend loved more than anything in this world.

And the reality was that Mr. Lucas was bound to do the same. He was going to hire the best attorney that money could
buy, and they were going to beat down my Scotty until there was nothing left to beat down. I actually started to question the wisdom of forcing her to do this. I knew that the odds were against us, and that she was going to have to relive her trauma every time she had to answer questions in a deposition, or, god forbid, every time a reporter called.

The odds were long, but it wasn’t impossible. I had to tell myself that. Otherwise, to think that Scotty was about to go through hell, and would be forced to relive her trauma, for nothing…that would be the worst possible outcome.

Then again, there was always Plan B. A plan that I had been formulating in my head ever since I talked to Ryan about this situation involving Mr. Lucas, and Ryan and I both concluded that the odds of Mr. Lucas ever seeing the inside of a prison cell were pretty slim.

It was a dangerous plan, to be sure, but, if properly executed, would be foolproof to deal with the situation, once and for all.

“Nick,” Scotty said to me, bringing me out of my reverie. “Uh, we’re finished here. Do you want to go somewhere and get some lunch?”

I said nothing, but just nodded my head.

Scotty stood up, as did I. The two of us shook Angie’s hand. “Thank you so much for seeing us,” Scotty said to Angie. “Uh, when do you think that, uh, Mr. Lucas will be arrested?”

“We have probable cause to arrest him right now,” Angie said. “So, it should happen within the next few days.”

I took a deep breath. Once the arrest occurred, there would be no turning back.

Scotty and I left the police station, and went to a restaurant to grab some lunch.

We were seated, and ordered. I just watched Scotty for a little bit, trying to gauge her mood. I was so trying to be sensitive to what she was going through, but it wasn’t always easy. Sometimes I found myself saying or doing the wrong thing, and she would get a look on her face that told me that I somehow wounded her. I was trying to avoid that look, so I felt that I needed to tread lightly.

Scotty was sipping her water, her eyes not meeting mine. Her hands were still shaking a tiny bit. Her charm bracelet rattled the tip of her water glass. I reached out across the table, and she took my hands.

“Tell me your thoughts,” I said.

She stared at her glass for several moments. “I really don’t know,” she said. “I’m really happy, but I’m bracing myself. I’m bracing myself for the blowback, because I know there’s going to be some. Maybe a lot of blowback.”

I touched her cheek, and brushed her bangs a little with my hand. “Well, whatever happens, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Nick,” she said. “I, well, I have a lot of baggage, it seems. I hate to embroil you in all of this. I mean, I’m not just talking about this situation, but also about my mother and brother. I, well, you probably don’t need to get so personally involved. I don’t want-“

“Shhh,” I said. “Listen, you do have a lot going on, but I love you. I’m in a position to help you, so just take it. Take it and don’t argue.”

She said nothing, but just nodded her head.

I hated that she was so quiet. I knew that there were many times that she got in her own way. She was a challenge, really. A challenge, still, because of her mother and Mr. Lucas, and the damage they did to her psyche. She really had a difficult time moving past all of what had happened to her, and I really wasn’t all that surprised. I thought about Ryan, who had his own struggles. He had such a hard time coping that he almost killed himself with drugs. Almost killed himself, period, as I had to stop him from suicide that one day.

He was able to heal with the help of a good therapist and a supportive wife. Scotty hadn’t had the same opportunity to see a therapist, so I felt the need to make sure that she got some psychological help.

I drummed my fingers on the table lightly, as I waited for our lunch and iced tea to be served. Scotty was still quiet, and staring at her water glass. She couldn’t seem to meet my eyes.
Time to change the subject.

“So, uh, Scotty, as I was saying at the police station. I made an appointment for you to see a Dr. Holloway. She’s a woman psychologist who specializes in treating people who have suffered, uh, sexual abuse. Her practice is in Midtown, so I was hoping that I could drive you there after work tomorrow.”

“How did you find her?”

“Ryan’s therapist recommended her. Ryan and I have been talking, and he has given me the go-ahead to give you a little bit on his background, so that you know that you’re not alone.”

Her green eyes look inquisitive about this. “You’ve dropped hints that Ryan perhaps has a bit of a checkered past. And he, himself, said something to me after you guys found me at the predator’s home. Something about him being where I was. I guess I didn’t really think about it, but what did happen to him?”

“Well, I don’t want to go into too many details. But his father was pretty sick and perverted, and had sex parties at his home. Sex parties that he forced Ryan to attend when he was just 13.”

Scotty’s eyes got huge, and I saw tears start to form.

I went on. “Ryan actually was ‘saved’ from the sex parties by an older woman. She let him stay with her, but then she sexually abused him also. For about a year.”

Our iced tea arrived at the table, and Scotty took a sip. Her face registered extreme surprise and compassion for what Ryan had endured. “What, what, what finally happened? How did he get out of that situation?”

“I helped him. I had him come and live with me and my family. Ryan’s friend, later girlfriend and later wife, Alexis, was who urged me to take him in. It was really a godsend, not just for him, but for my parents and me.”

Scotty nodded her head a little bit. She covered her eyes, and I saw that the tears that were earlier threatening were now rolling down her cheeks. “How can people do that to young children? And adolescents? Why are there so many sick people?”

“I wish I knew the answer to that question. The only thing that I can say is that it’s usually some kind of cycle. Ryan’s father, it turned out, was sexually abused by his own parents, and he just perpetuated it. Ryan dealt with the shame of the abuse, for many years, with drugs. He had a death wish pretty much throughout his late teens and early twenties.”

“He seems so together now. I mean, he has that animal foundation, and he just seems like such a rock-solid guy.”

“He is. But he fought to get to this place in his life. He fought hard. It took many years of therapy and the love of a good woman, but he finally achieved some sense of peace. And, man, did he go through a lot, just in the past few years.”

“Really? His troubles didn’t end until recently?”

“No. He and Iris, his current wife, went through hell and back. I’m not necessarily at liberty to talk about all of that, because Iris hasn’t told me that I can, but let’s just say that
they traveled a rocky road in their first year or so of marriage. But now they’re on solid footing, because they were tested by fire. Once a couple goes through what they went through, pretty much any other problem that crops up is going to seem trivial. So, they really have the advantage now to make it right to the end with each other.”

Scotty finally smiled, her first smile since of the day, really. “That’s a good story. It gives me hope. Hope that maybe I can overcome my own demons. But, I guess that the first step, really, to conquering my demons is to truly acknowledge them. I’ve buried them, really, all of these years. Burying them worked for me. But burying them also led me to the life that I had before I met you – scared of my own shadow, and living in a kind of ghostly existence. Afraid to love, afraid to get close. Even now, I have to admit, I can’t entirely give you 100%, because there’s just still a lot of fear there. So, yeah, I think that maybe therapy would be good for me.”

I took her hands. “You’re strong, Scotty. Stronger than almost anybody I’ve ever known. So, you can face down your demons, with my help and support. I never want you to think that you’re alone in this, because you’re not. And your mother will get the help that she needs, too, and, with any luck, she can get sober, and you and she can try to re-connect.”

She sighed mightily. “I just don’t know what I would do without you. I guess I would have just lived my entire life in denial and without love. I can see fulfillment, personal fulfillment, now, and it’s because of you. So, thank you.”

I smiled, and our lunches arrived at the table. “Your Ahi tuna looks mighty tasty,” I said.

She put a few slices of the tuna on my plate, and I cut off a few slices of my steak and put it on her plate. As both of us tried each other’s food, Scotty smiled.

“You know, it’s so weird.”

“What’s that, love?”

“How we’ve become so comfortable around each other in really a short period of time. When we first started eating together, we never shared our food. Now, it’s just something we do. It’s nice, really.”

“I never thought about that, but you’re right. I guess it’s just one more sign that we’re meant to be. Your tuna is delicious, by the way.”

“As is your steak. I can cut it with a fork.”

I smiled and took a sip of my tea. It was nice to relax, and have this little interlude before the shit would hit the fan. As it would, of that I was certain. Once Mr. Lucas was arrested, the dam was going to break, and break hard.

I hoped that Scotty would be able to withstand it.

Chapter 4

Scotty

I found myself in the office of Dr. Holloway on the Tuesday after Nick and I saw Angie. So much had happened the day before, my head was spinning.

Not only did I give my story to Angie, but my mother was put on a plane which was heading to Los Angeles, where she would be greeted by a driver whom Nick had hired. She would then be taken straight to the treatment facility.

She was scared. I could see it. My heart went out to her, because she was going to be out there without anybody familiar around her.

Aaron was staying with Nick and me, in another guest bedroom. Nick converted this guest bedroom into a child’s room in record time – he spent all of last night getting a new bed in there, and taking out the old one, and he also had a multitude of toys, games and books delivered for Aaron. Aaron also expressed a desire to have the room painted blue, and wanted there to be super heroes painted on the wall, and Nick had hired somebody to come over and give Aaron just what he wanted.

“That’s so sweet,” I said to Nick. “Making sure that Aaron feels at home here.”

“Well, you know, the poor kid had nothing at all before. He deserves to be spoiled a little bit.”

I smiled. Nick and I also stayed up late the previous night, talking about our wishes for what would happen with my mother after she was released from her treatment place.

“Well, she would have to get a job,” I said. “And that’s going to be a challenge, because I don’t think that she’s ever worked. I don’t even know what her skills would be, or if she has any skills at all.”

“There must be something,” Nick said. “Something that she could do.”

“She quit school in the tenth grade, and, as far as I know, she’s only made money over the years by turning lots of tricks. I just don’t know how realistic it will be that she can hold down something steady.”

Nick had his chin on his hand, and he looked at me thoughtfully. “Well, there’s actually something that I was thinking about.”

“What’s that?”

“If she gets cleaned up – not just sober, but also becomes physically presentable – perhaps she could volunteer at one of our art museums. She seems to know something about modern art. At least, it appears that’s her interest.”

I felt myself grimace. “Well, I know what you mean about physically presentable. She’s going to have to lose some weight. But, maybe that will come, on its own, once she stops drinking. Alcohol will put on weight like nobody’s business, if you over-indulge. But, volunteering isn’t going to do anything for her, financially.”

Nick looked at me nervously. “Uh, Scotty. You’re going to howl in protest, but, believe me, I’ve thought about this situation eight ways to Sunday, and I’ve come up with no other alternatives.”

“What do you mean? Why would I protest?”

“I’ve contacted my lawyer. Just a few hours ago. So this is already in the works.”

“What’s in the works?” I was concerned. He was acting so shifty. I didn’t like it.

Nick took a deep breath. “I’m setting your mother up with an annuity. It’ll pay her living expenses, and those of Aaron. But she has to volunteer somewhere, and she also has to get job training and complete her GED. She has to stay off the bottle, and she has to attend on-going therapy for her alcohol addiction. Otherwise, the annuity will terminate.”

I blinked rapidly. I couldn’t believe that he would do this for me. “Nick, that’s the nicest thing that I’ve ever heard. But, really, I can’t ask you to do this.”

“I knew you would say something like that. I knew it. You’re aren’t asking me anything. I’m doing it, whether you want me to or not.”

I was stunned. “Why? I mean, you don’t even know her. Why would you go out of your way to help her like this?”

Nick just smiled, his eyes soft. “She’s your mother. I know that her condition, and the fact that you’re constantly on the verge of having to adopt Aaron, is stressing you out, to say the least. I just don’t think that you can be completely happy unless that situation is resolved. So, I’m doing this for you, but, also, I’m doing this for us. I want to remove that dark cloud hanging over your head.”

I was rendered speechless. I mean, I knew that he had the funds to do this. And thensome. But that really didn’t make it right. At the same time, I knew of no other alternative. And this was the best way to actually keep my mother sober. I would imagine that the on-going alcohol therapy would be something that would also be financed by Nick, along with everything else. Like day care for Aaron while my mother went through her job-training and GED classes and volunteering.

Nick was not only going to save my life, but my mother’s as well.

“Uh, I hate to even ask you this,” I said. “But how much is the annuity going to be?”

“$7,000 a month. That would cover her expenses at a nice sober living facility for the first year that she’s out, and then it will be enough to get her a decent apartment in a good neighborhood, It would also would enable her to raise Aaron at least somewhat properly. Since day care in this city runs around $2,000 a month, and she probably can’t find a two bedroom for less than $3,000 a month, that would leave her just enough to buy groceries and clothes for Aaron and herself.”

I scratched my head, trying to figure it all out. I mean, that was more than generous, but I knew that Nick had other things up his sleeve. And I was right.

“Of course, the other things that she has to complete – the GED, the job training, the on-going therapy – that’s paid for separately, and the bills will come directly to my accountant, and he’ll just pay them as they come. Same with her income taxes, and my accountant will help her prepare them. There’s a mechanism for the taxes to get paid, too. And, of course, there’s a college fund for Aaron. That will stay in place, even if your mother messes up and loses her annuity, because Aaron shouldn’t have to suffer for your mother’s poor choices.”

“I, I, I don’t know what to say. I mean, it’s the most wonderful thing in the world that you’re doing all this. I love that you’re not just giving her money, but that she has to better herself to keep it. But, I’m so overwhelmed by your generosity. And a little bit ashamed.”

“Ashamed? I don’t understand?”

“She’s my mother. I should be the one taking care of her. And I will be, after, you know, I get my degree and everything. So, maybe we can just see this as a stop-gap measure until I can get on my feet and take care of her myself.”

At that, Nick took my hands. “Scotty, love, we’re going to be together. You’ll see. We’re going to be together, so it’s not me helping your mother, really, but it’s us. What’s mine is yours. And it makes me happy. It makes me happy to use my money for something really worthwhile. I can see in your eyes that you think that I see you and your mother as charity cases, but that isn’t true. I see so much in you. So much. And I also see that you’ll be so much more happy and complete if you have your mother and brother back in your life. So, I’m doing this for us.”

I was speechless, but I shyly hobbled over to him, and sat on his lap. He wrapped his strong arms around me, and I hung my head on his chest. “I don’t know what to say, except thank you,” I said softly. “It’s literally the nicest thing that I would ever think that somebody would do for me. You’re so wonderful.”

“I hope you always think that,” he said.

“I will. Believe me, I will.”


So, I was thinking about all of that as I sat in the waiting room for Dr. Holloway. Nick was there with me, holding my hand. He wasn’t actually going to sit in on the therapy session, but he would be waiting for me when I got out, he assured me.

Finally, Dr. Holloway called me in. I went in, and sat down across from her. She had a gleaming office with floor to ceiling windows that were tinted and looked over the city. It was a beautiful view from this luxury high rise, and her office was enormous and luxuriously appointed. It was a far cry from the state-appointed therapists I saw when I was young and in the foster care system. Like the social workers, the therapists I saw
always had offices that smelled like children, and their offices were dingy, cramped and depressing.

This office seemed more like a place where I would actually look forward to coming.

And Dr. Holloway, for her part, seemed like somebody that I wanted to talk to. She was a small woman, about 50 years old, with slightly salt-and-pepper hair. Her glasses were modern, as was her dress, and she smiled at me with a genuine smile.

“You must be Scotty James,” she said. “I like to establish a friendly rapport with my patients, so I was wondering if you would mind addressing me as Adele, and if I can address you as Scotty?”

“Sure,” I said. “That would be nice.”

“Okay, then, let’s get started,” she said, taking out her notebook. “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about why you’re here.”

I took a deep breath, not really sure where to begin. Do I begin with the latest trauma, which was the fact that I was going to have to have the strength to put my rapist behind bars? Or do I start at the very beginning, where my mother was turning tricks in the living room, right in front of me, when I was only 2? Or somewhere in the middle?

“Um, I don’t know where to start,” I said. “So, maybe I can start with the present day and work my way backwards.”

“Okay,” she said. “What’s happening in the present day?”

“I, well, I was repeatedly raped by this man. And, he’s very wealthy, and, I, um, have finally gone to the police about it. And I’m terrified about what’s going to happen next.”

Adele nodded her head and kept writing. “What terrifies you about this?”

“I’m just afraid that I won’t have the strength to pursue it.”

Adele seemed to understand my underlying fears. “Are you afraid that you won’t have the strength because you don’t want to have to relive all your experiences?”

“Yes,” I said. “I think that’s it.”

“Okay, then, we need to focus on how you can relieve your experiences and your trauma with as little stress as possible. That will mean that you’re going to have to be trained to think about your experiences in a different way. In essence, your brain pathways are going to have to be altered so that the painful memories that you are experiencing are made to seem less toxic to your overall well-being. I would like you to start cognitive behavioral therapy, which will help you process your memories in a different way. A way that is less negative.”

“That would be wonderful,” I said.

And then Adele filled me in on the basics of cognitive behavioral therapy, or CBT. Basically, it consisted of replacing negative messages with positive ones, and the theory was that, by training my brain to reconceptualize negative experiences, eventually the brain pathways would be changed, and the experiences actually would seem less negative than they were perceived before.

I nodded my head. It sounded pretty good so far, and I felt hopeful. More hopeful than I ever had before.

“Of course,” Adele said. “Talk therapy will be a part of your treatment plan. That will help me to understand all of the negative triggers in your life, as well as help you understand your own triggers.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What do you mean by triggers?”

“Experiences that bring you back, in essence, to what happened in your past. It might be a smell, it might be a sound, it might be a touch or a voice. It might be something that you see on the television, or something that you hear on the radio. But, these kinds of triggers will cause you to experience the intense emotions of what happened to you, and these need to be identified, so that we can deal with that, too.”

So, for the next two hours, I told Adele my past. Starting with my mother’s neglect and abuse, and leading up to what had happened to me on St. Croix. All the while, Adele was making notes and nodding her head and asking pointed follow-up questions.

“So your mother had sexual relations with men while you were in your play pen in the same room. How do you feel about that?”

“Well, I mean, she had to get money somehow. And we lived in a studio apartment, so there she really had no choice in the matter. So, I don’t know, I guess I understand why she did it.”

Adele looked at me after I said that, her finger covering her mouth. She then asked me more follow-up questions about that, and, I eventually uncovered how I really felt.

“I hate her,” I said. “I mean, how could she do that to a child? Why couldn’t she either just get a job, a real job, or not have kids? Why couldn’t she just have her tubes tied? That way she wouldn’t have subjected innocent children, like Aaron and me, to her degenerate lifestyle.”

To my surprise, I felt my blood pressure rising and then the tears started to flow. I really had no idea how angry I was with my mother until right at that moment. Adele just sat there, making notes and nodding her head encouragingly.

It was like that the entire first session. I could feel my walls start to crumble, as my true feelings started to pour out. And I felt that I simply couldn’t stop crying, no matter how hard I tried. I went through Kleenex after Kleenex, but the tears wouldn’t end.

Adele was good. She knew just where to probe and just how to do it.

By the end of that two hour session, I felt like I had unearthed a mountain of emotions that had been buried so far underground that I never even knew that they were there. I felt angry, confused and emotional, all at once.

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