Just Evil (44 page)

Baylee looked skeptical. “What about confronting Alana and
Jessica after you got out of the hospital, Gloria, coming back to L.A., just
showing up on their doorstep, getting in their faces?” It’s what she would have
done, she noted. If anyone had taken Sarah away from her like that, but then,
she thought, she hadn’t been locked up in a mental ward for eighteen months.

“Don’t you think I wanted to? When they finally let me out
of the hospital, I was broke, didn’t even have money for a bus ticket back to
L.A. So, I found a job, went to work as a maid at a bed and breakfast about
five miles from the hospital. I saved every dime I made to get her back, but it
never seemed to be enough. I knew I couldn’t compete with Alana’s money or
Jessica’s legal expertise. One afternoon I was so depressed I walked into a law
office downtown to get legal advice. That’s how I met Morty. He was so nice to
me. He listened to my story and decided to contact Jessica, one attorney to
another. But after he talked to her, he told me it was too late. Jessica and
Alana swore it was a legal adoption, that I’d signed papers. Morty told me
there was nothing I could do. I cried for a week.”

It suddenly occurred to Jake after listening to Gloria talk,
how much she and Kit looked alike, the same skin tone, the same hair coloring,
and the same mannerisms, the same chatty way they talked. How had he missed
their similarities over the years? Watching her now, the resemblance between
the two women was uncanny.

But there was something Jake needed to know. “What about
Kit’s father, Gloria? What about John Griffin? Where was he while all of this
was happening?”

“He was of no help to me either. When Kit was born, he was
out of the country on location. He wasn’t around during my pregnancy. By the
time he got back to L.A., Alana had Kit. Jessica made sure of that. And I was
out of the picture. They convinced John that I had abandoned the baby,
disappeared shortly after Kit was born, that I’d signed the papers for Alana to
adopt her. He said he tried to find me. Even if he had tried, he wouldn’t have
been able to find a trace of me. They convinced him that I had willingly given
her up for adoption, willingly given her away to Alana and just disappeared.
From what he told me years later, Alana played her part very well, acted as if
she had done such a noble thing by giving her a home so she wouldn’t end up in
foster care. John believed all of it without question.

“But he wanted to be around Kit. That’s something Lana and
Jess never counted on. And legally, he was her father. So they couldn’t very
well keep him completely out of the picture. Every now and then, they let him
visit whenever he was in the mood to play daddy. It wasn’t until after Morty
and I married, when I had some money, that I paid Alana a surprise visit. By
that time Kit was about three.”

At the memory, she let out a gasp. “I found Kit…she had…her
arm was in a cast…her arm had been broken. She didn’t know who I was of course,
but when I asked her how she had hurt her arm, she told me, Alana had a temper
tantrum and threw her down the stairs. I was horrified. I went to Morty, I
begged him to do something. So he got back in touch with Jessica, sat down with
her, and reviewed all the adoption papers. He found everything in order, nothing
he could do he said. I’d just have to learn to be my daughter’s aunt. But
because Kit had said how mean Alana was to her, I tracked down John in Europe
and asked him to do something, to take Alana to court, get Kit away from her.

“Finally, after several more broken bones, he petitioned the
court. But the next thing I knew he’d withdrawn his petition. It seems Alana
financed one of his films.”

She sobbed again before going on, “Alana bought him off.
There’s no other way to say it. I suspect over the years, it happened quite
often.”

Sickened at the newfound knowledge, Baylee told Jake, “Even
as a kid, I suspected it was something like that.”

“Me too. It’s the only reason that made any sense. She kept
buying him off, dangling the money to produce and finance his films as the
incentive not to fight for custody. It worked once when Kit was five, so why
not keep financing his damned movie career while at the same time keeping him
under her thumb. Either way it was a win-win situation for both of them. The only
one who lost was Kit.”

“And knowing Alana, she had to get off on the control
factor, knowing she could control him with the money anytime she wanted. The
night she shot Kit, he must have upped his demands and she went ballistic,
wanted to prove a major point.”

 “At Kit’s expense,” Jake finished for her. She’d been
twelve years old that night, he reminded himself. That caused a tidal wave of
anger to build up in him.

“And when exactly where you planning on telling Kit the
truth, Gloria?”

Kit had just finished taking her first walk around the fifth
floor still attached to her IV drip, when she practically collapsed back on her
bed from exhaustion. She was still trying to catch her breath and let the
dizziness pass when she looked up and saw Dylan stationed in her doorway. After
telling her he needed to take care of something, Jake had been gone all of five
minutes and now, here was Dylan, dutifully taking his turn as guard dog.

Smiling, in spite of the fatigue, she muttered, “Your turn
to watch me, huh?”

Dylan grinned. “We can’t have you getting in trouble again,
now can we?” He’d volunteered to take a shift, but now he noted how pale Kit
looked. He approached the bed and asked, “Are you okay? Can I get you
something?”

“Some water would be nice,” she said, as she fell back into
the mountain of pillows. 

He poured water from a plastic carafe and handed her a cup,
only to realize that when she took it, her hands were shaking. It was then he
noticed the pain on her face. Glancing at the IV, he reminded her, “Don’t hurt.
That’s what it’s there for. Go for it.”

When she laughed, Dylan saw past the bruises and knew
instinctively what Jake had found in her, a gentle soul who seemed genuinely in
love with him.

“Are you going to tell me where Jake went?”

He stuck his hands in his pocket and grinned again. He was
there to look out for her while Baylee and Jake confronted Gloria. He wasn’t
about to give anything away. So, he wiggled his eyebrows back and forth, and
opened up a new avenue for discussion. “What can you tell me about Baylee? Is
she seeing anyone?”

Kit choked on the water, but motioned for him to take a
chair. “Oh Dylan, we so need to talk.”

When Jake walked into the room, he found Dylan, sitting
cozily beside Kit’s bed, chatting like the two were old friends. She looked up,
spotted Jake, and gave him a come hither grin, cocked her head to one side, and
said, “Give us a kiss.”

Jake noticed it was a fair attempt at an Irish accent. It
was then he noticed how sauced Kit acted. In protective mode now, Jake turned
accusingly to Dylan. “What did you do to her?”

But it was Kit, with a slur to her speech, who tried to
explain, “We’ve been getting to know each other. He’s been telling me about his
visit to Ireland several years back. Donegal, wasn’t it? Up there it’s
different, right Dylan? I told him about the brother I’ve never met in Galway.
He’s been telling me how we should all go to Ireland, see the countryside.
Quinn was born there you know.” She actually giggled.

But Jake glanced over at Dylan, saw him get to his feet.
Dylan simply smiled at the hint of jealousy on Jake’s face and pointed to the
IV drip. “Wish I could say it was the Burke charm, but the drug’s making her
loopy. She was up walking when I got here. It seemed to take everything out of
her. When she fell back to bed she started pushing the pain button.”

Jake couldn’t help himself, he laughed. He needed something
to laugh about after having to drag Gloria here kicking and screaming.

When Quinn walked through the door, quickly followed by
Baylee, followed by a bleary-eyed Gloria, Dylan tried to excuse himself, but to
his surprise Kit pointed a finger at him, and warned, “Oh, no you don’t.
Something’s up. Look at this bunch. Can’t you tell?”

Finally, Quinn stepped to the side of the bed, checked the
IV drip, and wanted to know, “How much Demerol have you had, Kit?”

“You told me to push the button, so I pushed it and pushed
it and pushed it, but nothing came out.” She found that hilarious and started
giggling again.

“Oh God,” Jake groaned. Alarmed, he started to say something
else, but then Quinn shook her head. “She can’t get more out of the drip than
she needs. It doesn’t work like that. It’s a micro drip with a very low dose.”

Worried, Baylee pointed out, “But she acts like she’s high.”

“Oh, she’s feeling no pain that’s for sure. Since she’s
never taken anything stronger than ibuprofen she’s a little more susceptible
than most.”

Jake said flatly, “I guess this isn’t the best time to do
this.”

But to his surprise, Quinn suggested, “On the contrary, I
think it’s the perfect time to drop the bombshell. She’s drugged enough it’ll
take some of the sting out of it.” She shot Gloria a look of contempt.

Jake took Kit’s hand and cautioned, “Honey, Gloria’s got
something she wants to tell you.”

Everyone made room for Gloria to stand next to Kit’s bed.
“Glo, you don’t look so good. What’s wrong? Tell Kit what’s wrong.” She’d lost
the Irish accent.

But when Gloria opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out.
Kit leaned in to her, telling her, “You’ll have to speak up Glo, I can’t hear
you.” She giggled like it was the funniest thing she’d said all day.

All of a sudden tears formed in Gloria’s eyes and water ran
down her cheeks. Kit reached over with her good hand, took Gloria’s hand in
hers, and then clumsily tried to wipe some of the tears from Gloria’s cheek.
But the tears kept coming.

“I’ve done something bad, Kit, and I can never, ever undo it
or take it back, but you have to know what I’ve done and why. It’s time you
knew.” Gloria breathed deeply, looked around the room at everyone staring at
her and then looked back into Kit’s face. As if her courage came from Kit, she
reached to touch her cheek and took in another deep breath before saying, “It’s
time you knew the truth.”

From her pocket, with hands shaking, she took out two pieces
of paper and unfolded them, smoothed out the creases, the lines on the paper.
“This is your birth certificate, your real one. Alana took you away from me
when you were born. She had me admitted to a psychiatric ward. She and Jessica
saw to it that I was locked up in a mental hospital for almost eighteen months
after you were born.”

She waved the other piece of paper toward Kit. “And this is
my discharge paper from the psychiatric hospital I was in, dated with the date
of my release so that you’ll know I’m telling you the truth. The day you were
born, Jessica filed papers in court for Alana to adopt you, told the court I
was an unfit mother, that I was crazy. Jessica made certain it was all legal.
They took you away from me in the hospital, Kit. I never got to hold you…my
baby daughter. They locked me up, you see.”

The sobs poured from Gloria again and made her a little
incoherent. “I never got to be your mother. Alana and Jessica stole you away
from me. I wanted so much to be your mother, but they took you away from me,
Kit, and sent me three thousand miles away from you.”

Kit felt a little sick at her stomach. Even sitting up in
bed, she swayed back and forth looking at everyone in the room. “This is a
joke, right? You guys are just messing with me, right?”

When Gloria started crying again, more uncontrollable sobs
formed in her throat and she started shaking her head. But it was Jake who
stepped up to the bed, took Kit’s hand in his and said, “No honey, this isn’t a
joke. Do you understand what Gloria’s telling you?”

“Yeah, I think so. She’s telling me that fucking bitch
wasn’t my real mother. Isn’t that what you’re telling me, Glo? That I’m not
Alana’s real daughter.” Kit started laughing. “How about that guys? How about
that? Gloria’s not my aunt, she’s my mother. What do you think about that,
Baylee?”

Gloria’s hands were still shaking, her face was still wet,
but the sobs had ceased when she looked at Kit and asked, “Aren’t you angry,
Kit?”

With a heavy slur to her speech, Kit said, “Hell no. As long
as I know that bitch wasn’t my real mother, everythin’s fine, jus’ fine.”

It was hours later before dawn that Kit came awake in her
hospital room to streaky bits of light peeking from underneath the hospital
drapes covering the window. Trying to focus in the dim light, she thought she
could make out someone sitting in the darkened corner by the bed and asked,
“Jake, is that you?”

But it was Gloria who popped up from her chair and reached
out to touch Kit’s face. “No sweetie it’s me. How’d you sleep?”

“Like the dead. The last thing I remember was…” She blinked
further awake. “Everyone was in my room and you were telling me…”

“That I’m your mother. Yes, sweetie it’s true. It wasn’t a
dream. You can still call me Gloria if you want. I don’t expect anything…expect
you to feel…I don’t expect you to be…to call me…”

Tears pooled in Kit’s eyes. “I love you Gloria. Gloria is a
name I trust. The word mom on the other hand is as foreign to me as another
language. Maybe someday I’ll be able to wrap that word around my tongue, and
it’ll just roll right off when I see you without thinking, but for now, you’re
still just Gloria. The woman I’ve loved and trusted like no other for so long.”

Sobbing, Gloria put her arms around Kit in spite of the
bandages and drip. “Oh Kit. I’m so sorry, so very sorry. I wanted to make it
right, travel across the country to come back to L.A. get my baby back, but I
was locked up. Locked up all that time, knowing what they’d done, what I’d lost
almost made me crazy for real. For eighteen months, they gave me shock
treatments once a week. When they released me, I was flat broke, didn’t even
have a car, couldn’t afford a bus ticket to five miles down the road much less
to get back to L.A. to come back for you. I thought about ending it then.”