Ever After (7 page)

“I think about the times when she would get sober enough to care for me. I think about the nights when we stayed up late and popped popcorn and watched movies together. I think about the stories that he used to tell me about princesses and princes and happily ever after. She really had a vivid imagination, so I always enjoyed her stories. I think about the time when she scraped up enough money to take me to a steak house because of a good report card. I have no idea how she got that money, to this day, but she did, and that means a lot to me, looking back. So, those are the memories that I conjure up whenever I start to feel hateful towards her. And it is really helping.”

“Well, then, Scotty, let’s move on from this area of your life for now. We’ve gone through extensive talk therapy about your relationship with your mother, and it seems that you have turned a corner. We’ll get back to that at a later date, of course, because I want to keep monitoring your progress in your relationship with her. And, bear in mind, that things probably will change when your mother is back in New York, and she’s battling her sobriety issues long-term. That will take another adjustment, as she might be in your life on a more regular basis during this time.”

I nodded, dreading what was going to be the next topic. Mr. Lucas. There was no escaping it.

“Now, are you ready to talk about your feelings about your sexual violations with Paul Lucas?”

“What’s there to talk about?” I asked. “I’m over that. I mean, it happened, I can’t turn back time to undo it. And there’s no need to have a relationship with him, at all. So, what’s the purpose in bringing all of that up?”

“Scotty,” Adele said. “The purpose of this therapy is to root out any kind of deep-seated feelings you might have about what happened to you, so that you can deal with it. You might feel that denial is the best way to handle what happened, but denial results in repression, which might lead to different kinds of manifestations. It might be physical manifestations, as you might start to suffer headaches or aches and pains, or even serious diseases that are related to stress. Such as heart disease or cancer. And it probably will damage your intimate relationships, as you might get to a point where you have a feeling that you can’t trust the people who love you.”

She looked at me, and handed me a Kleenex, as she could tell that I was about to cry again. “You’ve dealt with your feelings for years by not wanting to be intimate with a man, and by throwing yourself into your schoolwork,” she continued on, “and you’ve admitted that you have a brick wall up, even now. So, you have to deal with your emotions about being repeatedly raped. There’s no getting around it.”

I thought about Nick, and how he told me that I had to learn to trust him, or else he was going to walk. He didn’t say that in those words, exactly, but that was what he meant. He saw that there was still something holding me back. Something that made me still not want to believe that what I had with him was real, so maybe I didn’t give my heart to him as much as I could
have. If I had really, truly believed that Nick loved me, I never would have fallen for Portia’s dirty trick, and I never would have believed that Nick wouldn’t rescue me from Mr. Lucas. He had shown nothing but patience, love and protection. Yet, I still didn’t entirely trust him, as much as I wanted to.

“Well,” I began. “I mean, I’ve been able to have a relationship with Nick. Doesn’t that mean that I’m over what happened to me?”

“Yes, I agree, that’s a very positive development. A good start. But your repression of your feelings about Paul Lucas might result in damage to your relationship going forward. You’ve already indicated to me that you have nightmares about him just about every night. Nightmares are representative of your unconscious feelings, and these nightmares are evidence that you truly have not moved past what happened to you.”

I looked at the clock, seeing that we only have about fifteen minutes left in our session. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll talk about what happened in more detail. But, as you can see, there are only fifteen minutes left in this session, so we’ve run out of time.”
Saved by the bell.

Adele nodded, and looked at her watch, as if she, herself, had lost track of time. “Yes, you’re right. So, I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time. Tonight, I need for you to journal about what are you are feeling, so that it can give us a starting point for tomorrow’s session.”

I left the office, and then breathed a sigh of relief. For now, I didn’t have to relive the nightmare that Mr. Lucas put me through. I was looking forward to just going home and being with Nick.

That was the only thing that mattered to me right at that moment.

Chapter 9

I rode to Nick’s house in the back seat of the limo, feeling raw and exposed. On the one hand, I was coming to terms with my mother’s failings, more than I ever had before. Therapy was really helping in that regard, so I hoped that I would be more able and willing to help my mother sustain her sobriety when she got back home. It occurred to me that I never wanted to really help her, before, because I was so angry with her. I felt that she made her bed, she should lie in it. I didn’t want to get involved.

But, therapy has slowly helped me realize, for real, that my mother was hurting. She was hurting, and she wasn’t a bad person. I ignored her, before, because I was disgusted with her. I was disgusted by her behavior and by the way that she treated Aaron, and just the very sight of her disgusted me.

Now, I felt that I truly could let down my walls with regards to my feelings about her and really go out of my way to help her. Nick was helping her, too, of course. Nick was doing everything for her that I never could. He was helping her get dried out, and he was going to help her manage her day to day life. He was so golden, and I really did love him so much. I still feared him, in a way, because I was still so afraid that he would leave me for somebody else. But my love for him was never in doubt.

So, on the one hand, therapy was wonderful. On the other, I was going to have to unearth all the pain that Mr. Lucas put me through. I was going to have to access all my rage towards him. All my sadness about how I lost my adolescence because of him, not to mention two babies. I remembered how I walked around in school during that period of time when he was raping me. How I was a ghost, and the other kids would make fun of me. It was difficult to make new friends, anyhow, because I was the new kid in school, and this was a private school, so I didn’t fit in. I was poor, even though Mr. Lucas had taken me in. I mean, I wasn’t literally poor, but I was always poor in my mind. Poor, for me, was a state of being, one that I never could escape, no matter how well I was living when I was with the Lucases.

So, me being poor, in my mindset, automatically set me apart from the other kids. They had the latest designer clothes, and I did too, but that didn’t matter. I still felt that all the other kids could see that I was poor, just like the other kids knew I was poor when I was living with my mother. There was always a barrier between me and the rich kids at my school, for that reason alone. The kids could sense that in me, so I got made fun of a lot.

Then, when the sexual abuse started happening, I retreated into a shell, where I wouldn’t speak to anybody. A teacher or another kid might try to talk to me, and I would either run or just not talk at all. So, I got into trouble with the teachers, and the teasing from the other kids was ramped up even more. I had to deal with all of that, on top of what was happening at home.

That was just one of the many reasons why I absolutely hated that man. I felt that I didn’t have a normal adolescence because of him. I didn’t fit in, because of what was happening to me, so I missed out on all the things that are supposed to make middle school so special. The dances and the parties and the outings that the other kids took to various places together on the weekends. That was supposed to be the time when I would be noticing boys, and thinking about dating. Instead, I had to deal with Mr. Lucas every night, instead of dreaming about a boy my own age.

It wasn’t until Jack found me in the car, and insisted that I enroll in school there, where our apartment was, in Uptown, that I started to feel alive again. Those kids in that public school where I enrolled were much more welcoming towards me. They were poor, too, like I was, so I felt right away that I fit in much more with them. And Jack brought me out of my shell, like nobody else ever had. From the beginning, he was the big brother that I never had. And he made me laugh like nobody else did. Jack was popular, and, even though he was four years older than me, he brought me into his circle of friends. They were mainly gay guys like him, but he had a few fruit flies who worshiped him, and I was able to make some girlfriends as well, through Jack.

I always thought that I would literally be dead if it weren’t for Jack. And, when I started living with Jack, and my outward life changed, I stopped obsessing about Mr. Lucas. I put it out of my mind, and focused on school and getting into college. My life was much more fun with Jack, so I felt that I had left it all behind. I left the despair that I felt with Mr. Lucas at that Upper West Side apartment where he still lived with his clueless wife.

Now, Adele was asking me to bring all that back up again. I buried it, with the help of my gay big brother Jack, and now I was being asked to face it. And that terrified me, more than I ever thought that something could.

So, as I made my way back to Nick’s Tribeca loft, I was full of apprehension about what was going to happen the next day in therapy. So far, therapy had been positive for me, because it had focused on my feelings about my mother. My feelings for her were always complicated, but I never stopped loving her, so talking about my mother in therapy was
liberating for me. I guess that she wasn’t scary like Mr. Lucas. She was sad, always sad, but not scary.

Mr. Lucas was scary, and I was petrified about dredging all that up.

I got to the loft, and Nick seemed like he had been waiting for me. He was pacing the floor, and, when I walked through the door, he rushed to me and wrapped his strong arms around me tightly.

“Scotty,” he said. “I know you’ve been in therapy, but how come you haven’t answered my texts?”

“What texts?” I asked, and then realized that I didn’t turn my phone back on after therapy, like I usually did. I turned on my phone, and saw no less than seven texts from Nick, wanting to know when I would be home. That he had news for me.

I looked at him quizzically. “You have news for me? What’s your news?”

He said nothing, but just led me over to the television set. “Sit down,” he said.

I sat, and then Nick got on his DVR. He had recorded a local news program.

I looked at him, still not understanding.

He said nothing, but turned on the television.

There, on TV, was Mr. Lucas.

He was being led away from his office in handcuffs.

Chapter 10

Nick

I had just forced Scotty to go to see Angie, and I had to admit that I was feeling kinda bad that I did. I mean, the realist in me said that the bastard would never be arrested, no matter what we did. But I felt that Scotty had a better chance of lighting a fire under Angie’s ass than I did. And I felt, irrationally, that Scotty just didn’t care, so that pissed me off. It all resulted in me forcing her to go and see Angie, no matter how she felt about it.

I wanted to go with her to see Angie, but she told me not to. And, I had to admit, that, with all that was going on around me, my work was suffering. So, I chose to work late. I had to deal with meetings the next day, and I was behind on the designs that I promised to show my clients. I felt bad making her go to see Angie all by herself, but she did have to stand on her own two feet at some point. I was supporting her and holding her hand. I would always there for her, whenever she needed me. But, at the same time, I wanted her to have a thicker skin. It was tricky, walking the fine line between supporting Scotty and essentially infantilizing her. I wanted her to rely on me, but not feel that she had to over-rely on me for everything that was going on in her life. As much as I didn’t want to, I had to back off just a little bit.

So, I saw Scotty into the limo, and asked Charlie to take her to the police station, and then onto Adele’s for her therapy. I stayed behind at the office, catching up on my work. I found that I could throw myself whole-heartedly into my projects, even when there was chaos around me. That was something that I was always able to do, which was how I managed to get where I was, despite the fact that my personal life had never been all that stable.

Ironically, even though I finally did feel a sense of stability with Scotty, in that I no longer felt the need to stray, there was also a sense of chaos in the background, worse than I had ever experienced before. I was more stable than I had ever been, as far as my inner self, but my environment had never been more stressful and out of control.  

I was into my drafting project, working feverishly so that I could get home by 8, which was the time when Scotty usually arrived home from her therapy sessions, when Ryan called me.

“Buddy,” I said. “I can talk for a short time, but I really have to get back to work. So, what’s up?”

“You sitting down?” he asked me.

“What kind of dumb question is that? Of course I’m sitting down. I’m sitting here in my office, working on my Chase designs, before starting on my new cathedral project. What did you think I was doing, pacing the floor?”

“Hey,” he said. “I have good news for you, so there’s no need to bite my head off.”

I rolled my eyes. “What kind of good news do you have?”

“I’ve been keeping my ear to the ground, as you remember, with my Senators that I’m close with.”

My ears perked up. This sounded promising so far. “Go on.”

“I have been asking them specifically about finding out about Paul’s Senators, the ones who he has in his pocket, to find out if there has been any change in these Senator’s financial relationship with Paul for any reason.”

“And?”

“Well, there has been a change. And it’s a good one. Apparently Paul has cut them off. Not sure why at all, but that is the word.”

My heart quickened. “Oh, my god,” I said. “I wonder if that means-“

“It means what you think it’s going to mean. I’ve already called that police station, and it’s my understanding that the Paul Lucas thing has been fast-tracked.”

“How did you get that information?” I asked. “I’m surprised that the precinct would release that kind of information to a private citizen who isn’t involved in the investigation.” Not that I doubted him on this, and I hoped to god that it was true, but I wanted to make sure that the ducks were in a row before I told Scotty the good news.

“You just have to know the right people to talk to,” he said.

Fast-tracked. That was wonderful news. But, at the same time, I was nervous. Because Scotty’s life was going to change from that point on.

“Man,” I said. “You certainly do work quickly.”

“Well, it helps that I am friends with several Senators. As I need to be, because of the lobbying my foundation is doing. So, if you feel bad because you don’t have the same inside information as me, don’t. I wouldn’t have, either, if it weren’t for Dalilah’s Friends.”

“I know,” I said. Leave it to Ryan to read my mind. I was feeling like a bit of stooge, calling Angie over and over and getting nowhere. Ryan, who wasn’t even involved in this issue, was able to get information that I couldn’t. But, then again, he was right – having close relationships with Senators was a part of his job description, so, of course, he was able to get information that was not available to me. Of course, and I needed to not feel impotent because of it.

Ryan and I chatted a little bit more, and then I said that I wanted to get off the phone and watch the news. Just in case there was something on there about the bastard being arrested. I also wanted to call the police station, if I didn’t see something about it on TV, but I wanted to watch, first, for any kind of media attention to the case. I remotely programmed my DVR at home, so, if there was a story about the monster, I could show it to Scotty when she got home.

And, when I turned on the television, and watched the news for a little bit, I was rewarded. The anchor-lady was talking, and an image of the sadistic monster flashed on the screen. He was being led away from his job in handcuffs.

“International financier Paul Lucas was arrested at his Midtown office, and charged with 422 counts of sexual assault and indecent liberties with a child,” the anchor-woman was saying. “The charges stem from incidents that occurred a decade ago, as well as incidents which occurred in January of this year.”

I stared at the screen, trying to take in what I was seeing. The pervert was going to get his comeuppance at last! Even if he managed to beat the charges, just the fact that he was humiliated on the news for all to see was almost good enough for me. Almost, but, not really, because I needed for him to be behind bars. I would never feel safe until he was, because I would always feel that Scotty was endangered by him. But, for now, the fact that he was doing the perp walk on television was a victory to be savored.

I immediately texted Scotty, and turned the channel to see if any of the national news stations had picked up on the story. I wouldn’t be surprised, really, because it’s not every day that somebody wealthy gets brought up on charges such as this. But there was nothing on the cable news channels, and that
made me feel much better. I remembered, all too well, the hell that Ryan and Iris had gone through when they were involved in the Rochelle scandal and their personal lives were fodder for public consumption.

If this Paul Lucas thing stayed contained, in that the cable news channels stayed away from it, that would be all the better. I could protect Scotty from the local reporters. I could protect her from the cable news reporters, as well, but it would be more difficult for sure if this story blew up.

So, I did something out of character – I prayed. I silently prayed that no national news stations would be interested in this, and that the local reporters would do the right and legal thing and not give Scotty’s identity away. That would mean that Scotty and I could live as normally as possible, even though Scotty was going to have go through depositions and discovery and, possibly, a trial. Hopefully the bastard would plead guilty, so Scotty wouldn’t be put through all of that, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

I looked at my phone, to see if Scotty had texted me back. She hadn’t so far, so I sent her another text. “Scotty,” the text read, “text me back. I have great news for you.”

I started pacing the floor, the drafting project forgotten for now. I had to get back to it, but I was too wound at that time to do so. I was elated, and I wanted to share my feelings with Scotty, but she wasn’t contacting me back.

Of course, she was in her therapy session at that time, so that could be why. I figured that she might have turned off her phone because she didn’t want to be distracted while she talked with Adele. Still, I willed her to text me back so that I could tell her the good news.

After about twenty minutes of pacing and pumping my fists in the air excitedly, I finally was able to settle down enough to finish up my drafting project so that I could return home. I had to get home by 8, so that I could be there when she arrived from her therapy session. We could share our elation together.

Finally, I was at a stopping point, so I called Charlie and he came to pick me up. I sat in the back of the limo, and texted Scotty again.

I got into my loft, and paced some more. I couldn’t sit still. Angeline was there, watching Aaron, and when I got home, I felt like kissing her. Not kissing her like a girlfriend, of course, but kissing her on the cheek. That was how good of a mood I was in.

“How’s the kid?” I asked her.

“He’s good,” she said. “I just fed him dinner, and he’s in the other room, playing with a puzzle.”

“Great!” I said, and then practically danced into the room and picked up little Aaron off the floor. “You’re doing a fantastic job, Angeline,” I said, as I made my back to the living room, Aaron in my arms. I swooped him up and threw him up in the air and caught him. He laughed excitedly.

“Again,” he cried with glee. So, I swooped him up again then threw him and caught him. He squealed ever more with delight.

I got out my wallet, to give Angeline the money I owed her for the day, and gave her an extra $100. “Sorry this isn’t much,” I said, “but I’m going to give you a substantial raise.”

“Mr. O’Hara, I appreciate that, but, really, I don’t watch Aaron that much. Only after day care, and before you guys get home, so I’m only here for at most 3 or 4 hours a day. I don’t mind.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “You need to eat, just like anybody else. So, how about my increasing your salary to $1,000 a week?”

She looked a bit incredulous. “For 20 hours a week for work? That’s like $50 an hour.” Up until that moment, I was paying her $500 a week, which worked out to $25 an hour, more than the market rate for part-time nannies.

“Yes,” I said. “And you deserve every penny.”

“Thank you so much,” she said. “But that’s just too generous.”

“Ha,” I said. “Be that as it may, that will be your new salary, so get used to it.”

She looked a bit embarrassed as she got her coat. “Well, thank you,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I said. “I have the feeling that Scotty and I might want to go out tomorrow night after I teach my night class, so you might have to be here a little bit later than usual. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” she said. “Thank you Mr. O’Hara.”

I played with Aaron for a little bit, and then put a movie in for him to watch. I couldn’t concentrate on Aaron or on anything else, until I saw Scotty and told her the good news.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she walked through the door. She hung her head, and it looked like she had been crying. I had been annoyed with her because she wasn’t answering her text messages, but my annoyance immediately melted when I saw how distraught she looked.

I rushed over to her and took her in my arms. She put her head on my chest, and rubbed it a little bit. Then I guided her over to the television set and sat her down.

She obediently took a seat, as I put the television set on and showed her the predator being led away in handcuffs.

She put her hand to her mouth, and pointed at the screen wordlessly. Then she put her hand to her mouth again and started to shake.

I was concerned about her reaction, because I wasn’t expecting it. I was expecting her to jump up and down with glee, and show the exuberance that I was feeling upon seeing that bastard get his comeuppance for the whole world to see. Or, at least, for all of New York to see.

She started crying, and I hoped against hope that they were happy tears.

“Hey,” I said, putting my arm around her. “Those are happy tears, right?”

She nodded her head, and continued to cry. I gave her a handkerchief, and she blew her nose. “Yes, Nick, these are very happy tears. I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it. After all that bastard put me through, and how he was just so sure that he would get away with it…to see him finally, finally get what’s coming to him…the feeling is just….just…” Then she shook her head some more. “I don’t even know what words I want to use. I mean, will he spend a day in jail? Maybe not. But is he ruined in this town? I certainly think so. I hope so. His social standing means so much to him, so for him to be humiliated like that…”

And, just like that, her tears stopped and she started laughing, almost hysterically.

In fact, she was laughing so hard that the tears started streaming down her face again. She almost doubled over, and started coughing.

I smiled, not really sure what, exactly, she was laughing about. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

“The look on his face. Oh, my god, that was priceless! Priceless! Never, ever erase that news show, Nick. Please. I
want to watch it, again and again. Each time, I think I’ll see something new, and it will cheer me up immensely whenever I’m feeling depressed. Man, that was a funny video. Funnier than anything I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”