Ever After (20 page)

Stop, Scotty, just stop. Right this second.
Okay, I thought, here is where I replace the worst-case thoughts with better ones. Nick is a good guy. Nick would never cheat.

Yes, but Nick turned his back when you needed him, so he’s not a good guy. Nick doesn’t really believe you about Mr. Lucas.

All night long, I wrestled with these negative thoughts, and valiantly tried to replace them. But, try as I might, I never did replace them, and, by the time I went to bed, I was more convinced than ever that Nick and I were totally, and completely, through.

Chapter 26

A few more days went by. I went to work each day thinking that “today is the day.” I was on pins and needles the entire time. Every phone call from a partner seemed ominous. The dark cloud was always over my head, and I was severely anxious.

And, of course, things between Nick and me were strained at best. He still followed me with his eyes, everywhere I went, but he had little to say to me, either at work or at home. Probably because I had shut down communication with him, completely, after I found the information about the sodium pentothal on his nightstand. That was something that I was fearing, too – that he was going to inject me and try to force a confession out of me. Of course, there would be no confession about false allegations, but, if he did that, our relationship would be completely, and irrevocably, destroyed. There would be no coming back from that breach of trust.

So, I was unhappy about both of those developments. But, every day, after work, I went to see Adele, and I always felt better. She, too, thought that I was catastrophizing everything, and she tried hard to calm me down. I was opening up to her more and more about my feelings about Mr. Lucas and everything, and it was feeling more and more liberating for me.

One thing was for sure – I wasn’t happy with Nick, at all, during that time, but I was grateful that he was paying for the therapist. And everything else. But, as much as I tried, he refused to give me an accounting for all of this money, which frustrated me some more.

“Oh, my accountant hasn’t called me back,” he would say. “The bills are paid through my accountant, so I need to call him again. Thanks for reminding me.” And then he would never get back with me about that.

He also refused to talk to me about a reasonable rent. “Oh, Scotty, let’s try to figure that out later, when you can actually afford to pay me rent,” he would say.

At that, I would stomp out of the room. He was being so obstinate, and I really couldn’t understand why. It was becoming increasingly obvious that he and I were through, and I didn’t see how he failed to note this. He still held out hope, I guess, but that hope was dimmed considerably with each passing day. At least in my mind, that hope for us was extinguished.

So, I valiantly tried to work every day, despite my crushing depression that came from all of the bullshit that was enveloping me.

Until that Friday.

∞

I had come to work, same as usual. It was an ordinary day. I started taking the subway to work again, refusing the limo service, against Nick’s wishes. That morning was my first morning back on public transit. I got up early, because I wanted to grab something at McDonald’s before going into work. There was a roster of projects that were lined up for me, ready and waiting, and I was planning on keeping my head down and tackling them, one by one, as usual.

So, I got dressed as usual, and got on the bus, and then took the bus to the subway station. I remembered thinking that I never thought that I would be back to taking the subway to work, but, in a way, it was comforting. After all, I grew up taking the subway. The limo really was foreign to me. The subway felt more like home.

There was a guy who was listening to his iPod really high, and I heard the sounds of rock music coming through his ear buds. I actually smiled at this, because, this, too, was a comfort. What I was used to.

I picked up a newspaper on the way to the bus station. I read all about the usual things. Corruption in city hall. A new movie was coming out, and it sounded pretty good. Too bad I didn’t have anybody to take me, I thought. Then I thought that I would call Jack and see if he wanted to go. After all, we were not on the best of terms, but I was ready to call a truce. Having a night out with him might be just the thing to get us on better footing.

Finally, the subway came to my stop, and I got off. I went to McDonald’s and ordered an Egg McMuffin. I grabbed a juice to go with it, and sat down and ate while I read the paper some more.

The Egg McMuffin, for some reason, tasted unusually scrumptious. Then I realized how hungry I was. Sometimes I wasn’t always aware of things like hunger and thirst, because my mind was occupied with other things. But I was feeling the hunger pangs that morning. So, I got up and got an order of hash browns. As horrible as these hash browns were for the body, I sometimes craved them, because they were so damned delicious. Crispy and brown, served hot out of the deep fryer. Yum. I got a couple packets of ketchup, and squirted the ketchup on my napkin, and dipped the hash browns into that. My mouth started watering in anticipation as I smelled the hash brown patty, and knew that I soon would be devouring it. Which, of course, I did.

After breakfast, I dawdled a little bit, because I didn’t have to be at work until 8. A homeless guy came into the restaurant, and started asking people in line for change. Ten minutes later, he was forcibly removed from the premises. That McDonald’s, as with any other restaurant, wouldn’t put up with pan-handling in the store. The homeless could sit outside on the curb, all day long, and beg, but once they came into a private business, they would be forcibly evicted if they begged while in there.

I felt sorry for the guy, of course. I
was
that guy at one time. I tried not to beg, of course, because that was humiliating. So, I got along with dumpster diving, and, those few times, I stole food, and was caught and given community service. When I could, I went to the soup kitchens, but I stopped going when I realized that, as a youth, I was in danger of being forcibly put back into the foster care system. And no way would I let that happen. So, picking up cans and bottles, and dumpster diving, was how I lived.

Looking back, all the tiny, minute, details of that morning are now seared in my brain. Because I had no idea that this was the morning when my entire life was about to change.

That I would always remember just where I was when I found out the news that my tormenter was dead.

Chapter 27

I got into work that morning, after having my breakfast and juice. I got another juice to go, and I carried it into the office building.

I sat down at my desk, and sipped on my OJ.  George came into my office. “Scotty, I need for you to do some research for me.”

“Sure, George, what do you need?”

“I’m working on a condominium proposal in Brooklyn. I need you to find me the zoning regulations for the property that we’re going to be building on. If you could have that to me in an hour, I would appreciate it,” he said, as he handed me a slip of paper that had the address for the condo project.

“On it,” I said. The projects that were on my desk would have to wait. When George said jump, I said “how high?”

I logged onto my computer. My home page was Yahoo! On the page were the usual news stories that flashed through towards the top of the page. A story about a viral video of a dog arguing over bedtime flashed through, and I smiled, and made a mental note to click on that. Another story about the “ten signs that he’s about to leave you” flashed through, and I made another mental note to click that as well. Even though I was through with Nick, I still wanted to know if the relationship experts at Yahoo! thought that perhaps our relationship might have a glimmer of a chance.

A news story about the “ten signs that you are about to be fired” also caught my eye. And, despite the fact that I had to get the requested research into George in an hour, I shamefully clicked on that story. I was relieved when I read the ten signs, and found that none had pertained to me. I concluded that I wasn’t about to be fired, but that was only because Mr. Lucas had mysteriously still not surfaced with his heinous lies.

Come on, Scotty, you need to not get distracted.
I made a mental note to stop reading the news stories, and prepared to click away from that page, when I saw it.

“Accused Child Molester Found Dead,” the headline blared, and there was a picture of Paul Lucas.

Immediately, the project for George was forgotten. I blinked my eyes, wondering if I somehow had started hallucinating. Or maybe I was dreaming. My heart rate went through the roof, and my entire body started shaking.

And, almost on auto-pilot, I called Nick.

“Hi, babe,” he said. He still addressed me by endearments whenever I called him to ask him for something. I was always cold and business-like with him, though. I wasn’t going to give him one hint that there might still be a future for us. Because there clearly wasn’t.

“Nick, uh, could you come down here please? Right now?”

“I’ll be right there.”

He appeared not ten seconds later, a little out of breath. He must have sprinted down the hall.

“Oh my god,” he said, upon seeing me. “Oh my god. Scotty, your face. It’s white as a sheet. You need to come to my office and lay down on my couch.” He rushed over next to me, and crouched down. He ran his hand through my hair, and looked at me with great love and concern. “Scotty, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nick, you’re right. I need to lie down. I’m not feeling so good.”

Nick nodded his head, and then noticed that I had the note from George about the zoning regulations on my desk. “I’ll go tell George that you’re not feeling well, and I’ll find another intern to cover for you. I know that he needs these regulations within the hour, so I’ll find somebody else to do them. In the meantime, you’re coming with me to my office. I’ll let you lie down on my couch, and I’ll fix you something to drink.”

I said nothing, but just nodded my head. I was vaguely aware that he was making me stand up, and I leaned on him as he helped me out my front door. We walked together like that, until we reached his office, and then he gently laid me down on the couch.

He got out a blanket, and put it over me. Then he sat on the edge of the couch and stroked my hair and forehead. He kissed my forehead gently and said “let me call George, and fix you something to drink. What would you like?”

“Uh, some, uh, water.”

“Okay,” he said. And then he got up and called George, and nodded his head at me. “That’s okay, Scotty, he’s going to find somebody else to do that research project.”

I nodded and said nothing. I was feeling like I wasn’t in my body anymore. Like I was in a dream. I looked at Nick, and he looked like he was very far away, for some reason. He was stroking my cheek and my face, and kissing me lightly on the forehead. He had some water in his hand, and he was making me drink it a little at a time. His face was full of concern.

“Scotty, please, tell me what’s going on. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I swallowed hard. “Nick, uh, do you mind doing something for me?”

“What’s that, love?”

“Would you please get on the Yahoo! Front Page?”

For some odd reason, his face registered a kind of recognition. He didn’t look confused or concerned, but he looked like he knew what I was going to ask him.

“Sure, my love,” he said, “is there anything in particular you would like me to look for?”

“I don’t know. I think maybe I’m hallucinating. I’m very concerned that I might have had a break with reality.”

“I’m not following you,” he said, but, in his face, I saw that he really was following me. “What are you talking about, love?”

“I thought I saw a story on there. I thought I did, but I’m sure that I was dreaming or something. Or hallucinating. Maybe I need to see about getting some medication from Adele.”

“Okay,” he said, as he went and got his lap top and brought it over to me on the couch. He balanced the computer on his lap.

“Now, tell me what you read on those headlines,” I said.

He read through some of the headlines as they scrolled by.

And then he stopped. He swallowed hard. He started breathing heavily. “Accused Child Molester Found Dead,” he said. And then he looked at me. “Let me click on the news story.”

I looked in his face, and he didn’t register shock. He did look anxious, but not shocked.

“Please read the story to me, Nick. Oh, my god, I thought that I was hallucinating, but, is this really happening? Is it, Nick? Oh, my god.”

He nodded his head as he started to read. “International financier, Paul Lucas, who was recently accused of child molestation is New York City, was found dead of an apparent suicide in his Upper West Side apartment.”

I felt my blood pressure soar, and my breathing was out of control. Once again, my whole body started to shake. “Go on,” I said.

He took a deep breath and continued reading. “Lucas was found by his brother, Denny Lucas, who investigated Lucas’ apartment after there was a report that he had not returned to work this week. His secretary had expressed concern that Lucas had not reported to his place of employment and had not contacted anybody to explain his absence. Denny Lucas, with the help of a building supervisor, went to the Upper West Side home, and found Lucas dead of a gun-shot wound to the head. Officials do not suspect foul play, as there was indication of a suicide note being found on the premises.”

“Go on,” I said, still feeling like I was having an out-of-body experience.

Nick nodded again, and took a deep breath. “Lucas was an international hedge fund manager for the firm Brown and Bass. He was recently accused of child molestation and rape, but the charges were dropped. According to Denny Lucas, the accusations were accurate, and he speculated that this was why his brother would take his life.
He was quoted as stating that ‘my brother was a sick man, but he’s now at peace. Our family asks for your prayers and to respect our privacy during this trying time.’”

I sat there looking at him. Just…looking at him. I couldn’t find my voice. I felt like this was what total shock felt like, because nothing seemed real. At all. I opened my mouth, and nothing came out. I closed my mouth again, and then opened it again. Still, nothing.

Finally, I managed to croak out the words “so it’s true. Oh my god. This doesn’t seem real. At all. At all. At all. Oh my god.”

And then it hit me. I was free. I was free. I.was.free.

My job was secure. I didn’t have to be afraid of him. And he finally got what was coming to him. It wasn’t exactly the way that I thought that it would go – my dark fantasies always had him getting a life prison sentence, after which he would be raped every day behind bars. For life. For life, he would be ass-raped by a huge guy named Bubba. That would have been my ultimate fantasy.

But I’d take this, too.

“Nick, I. Wow. Just wow. Please, pinch me. Pinch me hard.”

Nick had a huge smile on his face as he pinched my arm.

“Do it again.”

He pinched me again.

I looked at my skin, which had the little pinch mark on it. I looked up again at him.

And then I started bawling.