The Battered Heiress Blues (25 page)

“That man is an idiot. I’ve always thought that.”

“You never said that. You supported the marriage- very vocally, as I recall.”

“I was just happy that he wasn’t Henry.”

“That’s funny because I was the happiest with Henry.”

“He’s not right for you. He’s too much like me.”

“He’s nothing like you.”

“Where is he then? Desertion is classic John Spencer, wouldn’t you say?”

“He’s in New York…with Tricia.”

“Yes. I’ve met that one…a real ditz. She couldn’t hold a candle to you.”

Kindness wasn’t his usual mode of operation. His behavior had become unpredictable and tricky. One minute he was stabbing me and the next he was stroking me. The many facets of my father were becoming tiresome. I cracked a smile, completely surprised.

“Thanks for that, considering I look like an orca whale.”

“You look lovely, Julia. From the back, you can’t even tell you’re pregnant. I’d swear you were giving birth to a basketball.”

“You never tell me I’m lovely. What’s wrong with you? Are you unwell?”

“What does it matter? When a man gets to the end of his life, he has the capacity to understand just how much he’s mucked it up. I’m sorry for being me- for being a lousy father. Your sweet mother must be so disappointed in my lack of effort. I failed her…and you. Be happy knowing that I spend my nights, alone in the dark, wishing that I could do it all over again.”

“You pushed us away. You stopped loving us. We were kids, John. We thought we had done something wrong. Hell, Tommy grew up thinking that he killed his own mom. You never told him that he wasn’t responsible. You allowed that way of thinking to become his reality. That’s a lot for a young boy to handle.”

“I was a monster. I know that now. I couldn’t see it then, but I am painfully aware of it now. I wish that God would have taken me and left your mother.”

My response flew through my lips before I could think of something more congenial to say.

“I used to wish that all the time.”

“Wow,” he said sadly as he sat back, a little stunned.

“I hear myself and I know I sound harsh and bitter, but you’re trying to force this sense of familiarity between us that just doesn’t exist. You’ve been an absentee father my entire life. I don’t know you.”

“I understand,” he replied weakly.

“Don’t do that. Don’t play the role of the victim- it’s so not you. Be the ruthless man you’ve always been. That man I can understand. I’ve worn your criticisms throughout the years as though they were my second skin. They’re a part of me…every mean comment and disapproving glare. Those emotional beatings gave me my strength. So, don’t you come here and act like the cruelty served no purpose. Don’t come here and say that you did it for kicks. Have a reason for not loving us. Have a reason for scarring up our hearts. I think we at least deserve that after all these years.”

“I didn’t come here to upset you, Julia. I came here out of concern.”

“Concern for whom?”

“For me. I’m dying. How selfish is that; when you’re fighting to save your child? I’m here for me- not you.”

“You always up the ante,” I spewed out disbelieving.

“No. I’m really dying- pancreatic cancer. That should cheer you up. Christmas has come early this year, child.”

“Cancer? I’m sorry. You’re my father. My mother loved you. I am sorry. I don’t know what to say.” The clock chimed and we listened in silence. “Does Tommy know?”

“No. I’d like the opportunity to tell him myself, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

We sat quietly. I was ashamed of my ranting. Everything I said reflected how I truly felt, but John came here to make amends. I was too angry to hear him when he told me that he understood. One thing was for certain; regardless of who was right or wrong- it wasn’t going to change a damn thing. My crappy childhood would forever be recorded in the history books as crappy and John was destined to die. Coming to terms with both was now a necessity. Time was of the essence.

“What are your plans?”

“I’m sneaking off to have the Whipple procedure performed at Emory University next week. I’ll ask Tommy to go with me. Your prayers would certainly be appreciated.”

“They’re yours. What about work? Who knows?”

“No one. Effective next week, I am resigning from my position on the board. My shares will be transferred to Emma Grace. As her guardian, you’ll vote her proxy until she comes of age. Tommy doesn’t want the money and you’ve barely withdrawn any of your trust fund. I’ve also established a charitable trust account in Connor’s name. You can allocate the funds as you see fit.”

“How long?”

“Their best guess is six months…perhaps longer with this procedure. I would like to see my grandchild born.”

I began to cry.

“I’d like that too.”

“Don’t cry Julia. Don’t shed tears for your sorry old father.”

“But you’re my sorry old father.”

“My greatest regret in life is that I didn’t tell you kids that I loved you.”

“It’s not too late. You can start now.”

John looked me in the eyes and pulled me to him. This would be the second time that he had embraced me during the span of my life, with the first being at Connor’s funeral. The gesture was so foreign to me, but I couldn’t remember needing that closeness as much as I did now.

“I love you Julia. You are an amazing woman and a top notch lawyer. I should have offered you the job I thrust upon Henry. We could have worked side by side together, all these years. I was wrong about so many things. More than that, you are your mother’s daughter. You have the same strength, poise, and love in your heart that Georgia did. You feel things so intensely. I see so much of her in you. That’s why I kept you at an arm’s length. I couldn’t bear to be around you and not have her. She was in your eyes…your smile…the way you tilt your head to the side when you want something. I was mad at her for dying. I wanted Tommy to die and her to live. Who thinks that about their own child?”

“I wanted you to die and Mom to live. Who thinks that about their own parent? Grief is a terrible poison.”

I separated our embrace to make a request. He looked pained and worried about the future. We were both in the fight of our lives. We finally had something in common.

“Will you come here after your surgery to recuperate?”

“I don’t want to burden you.”

“We have a lot of time to make up for. It’s the least you can do for your children.”

“I’ll think about it.”

As I shook my head in agreement, the crew returned from their walk on the beach. Both Gabe and Tommy had a look of concern on their faces, probably assuming that John had been disagreeable. Little did they know that I was the bully this time around.

17

T
ommy didn’t take the news of John’s illness very well. I woke to find him sitting across the room in my recliner. His face was solemn and distant. Though further along than me in mending fences with our father, he had born the brunt of his hostility over the years, never fully understanding why he was so unlovable. A sibling can’t fill the void that a parent leaves behind. I did the best I could.

“You’re up early,” I commented, interrupting his thoughts.

“Can you believe it? After all these years, we only have six months with him?”

“Maybe more.”

“Unlikely.”

“You’ve never been the pessimist Tommy; don’t start now.”

“I’m being a realist, Julia.”

“That’s my role. You’re the pie in the sky, everything’s coming up roses, and God has a purpose type. Step off my territory.”

Holding out my hand, I motioned for Tommy to come over. He lay down next to me, holding my hand as we always had as children, when we’d lie on our backs, staring up at the night sky. Gabe knocked on the door and slowly opened it to see if I was awake. We had made plans the night before to get cracking on wrapping the presents, with Christmas only one day away.

“Who forgot to tell me about the meeting?” he joked as he entered.

“Come here. Lay down. We have some news.”

“That’s never good,” he chuckled nervously, wondering what predicament I’d gotten myself into.

“This isn’t good,” I answered.

He walked to the empty space in the bed, next to me, and threw himself against the pillows. I held my free hand out to him, which he immediately grabbed, interlocking his fingers in mine.

“Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”

“You can’t fix this,” Tommy replied.

“Let’s have it then.”

Tommy didn’t respond. The news was too recently given for him to be emotionally able to speak it out loud. I had more time to adjust and cleared my throat to announce what my brother wasn’t able to.

“My father is dying. He has pancreatic cancer. He came here to have his last Christmas and make amends with Tommy and me. He’s having surgery next week. The doctors give him six months to a year. I’ve asked him to move in after the procedure.”

Sorry is the only word that Gabe could produce. The three of us lay there silently, watching my old comforting friend, the fan, turn circles above our heads. Mattie burst through the door and nestled his way between Gabe and me. Within minutes, John walked by, giving the four of us a very odd look, as we filled the entire bed. No one knew what to say. Finally, Gabe broke the silence.

“Those gifts aren’t going to wrap themselves.”

“I know. I know. Mattie, Tommy and Grandma are going to take you for some ice cream, okay?”

Mattie bolted from the room and Tommy quickly followed after him.

“You open the packages Gabe and I’ll wrap.”

“Deal.”

He pulled my lard self up into a seated position and began tearing through the packing tape, box by box, placing each item on the bed in a neat assembly line formation. He enjoyed looking through the presents I had bought online, making little comments after opening each one and guessing who they were for. He probably wondered if a few of the gifts I’d purchased for Tommy were actually his. They weren’t. Gabe’s gift was in the FedEx pouch from the lawyer. I left it on the kitchen table with hopes of giving it to him this evening. He had no idea what was in store for him.

The morning and afternoon passed with only a short break to eat lunch. Cold pizza was on the menu, which seemed to awaken the alien within. Emma Grace was moving across my belly as if she were trying to claw her way out. Gabe loved to watch her hands climbing from one side to the other. She was becoming as impatient as me. We both wanted her out.

Tommy and Ms. Martin entertained Mattie for most of the day. After returning from their errands, they headed over to the cottage to allow Mattie to reacquaint himself with some of his most loved toys. They’d been spending so much time at the main house that the cottage had been all but deserted. My father was napping since the house was quiet, except for the soft lull of carols that piped through the intercom system. I’d talked Gabe into running into town to buy some candy canes for the tree. The edible factor was missing from the tall Frasier Fir. I had fond memories of Tommy and me swiping candy canes as we passed through the drawing room, back in the day. Nana never seemed to mind.

Gabe had moved all the presents under the tree. They filled the far corner of the room, leaving only a small path for Mattie to get up close and personal with his favorite ornaments. I made my way through the drawing room and into the kitchen to get busy accomplishing my other task for the day.

Much to the family’s dismay, I had decided to try my hand at my mom’s homemade apple pie recipe. After the expected arguments regarding my being out of bed, they agreed to allow me to sit at the table with my feet elevated while peeling and coring the apples. Gabe’s mom premeasured the wet and dry ingredients for me and Tommy moved the kitchen table underneath the island before heading to the cottage. Every last detail of my cooking had been well planned out, except one. The apple corer was nowhere to be found.

Searching the bottom cabinets of the kitchen yielded no results. Knowing it had to be somewhere, I decided to look through the upper cabinets instead of waiting for help. No one was home except John and he was sleeping. The coast was clear. Time was not on my side, though; Gabe was expected home soon. The market was fifteen minutes away and he had already been gone just shy of an hour.