The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (70 page)

There was absolute disbelief on Wolf’s face.

“You want to say something?” Art asked patiently.

“You knew from the very beginning that Savannah was your…ex… and you didn’t see it fit to tell me about it in all these days?”

“Alas, I didn’t know, I swear on the Almighty. I guess I moved on in life so comprehensively, she went completely out of the frame. Moreover, nine years is a long time and one tends to forget when one gets busy in life, especially as busy as I became. I didn’t recognize her at all up until now. It was only when her hypnotherapy threw up the names Wavell and Tudor Waugh that it hit me…smacked me flush in the face. That entire past episode came flooding back to me in a disorienting gush.”

“Who…who was Wavell Waugh and who was Tudor?”

“I was Wavell and Sage called himself Tudor,” Art answered. “We had to do it. We had to protect ourselves and the family. You never know with these small people.”

Wolf felt his head begin to roll. After a long pause, he finally spoke again. “But Rochelle didn’t come from the upper classes either. She too came from a very lower middle class background.”

“That’s true, but she was far up on the scale than this…this…Ms. Burns. Well, at least I thought so in the beginning.”

Wolf felt sick.

“But you told Savannah then that you were getting married right away. In fact, you got married much later.”

“Sage told her that. He reckoned that was the best way to get her off my back once and for all.”

Wolf’s face flushed with anger. “Was that what you were doing—getting her off your back
once and for all
after getting her pregnant?”

“I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me. I apologize.”

Wolf hung his head. He couldn’t look at Art anymore. He was ashamed. Ashamed of his brother. But even more ashamed of himself—ashamed that he was a Butcher.

“How do you know for sure you aren’t mistaken? Hypnotherapy isn’t a proven science,” he asked at length, not looking up.

“Then how did Ms. Burns recollect the names Wavell and Tudor and Waugh? She plucked it out of thin air?” Art asked. “However, I had also previously hired a team of private detectives. In the course of the investigations, they confirmed this bit too...everything that her hypnotherapy brought out.”

Wolf’s eyes snapped up.
Sweet shit!
“Private detectives? What for?”

“Well, I had just wanted to be sure that besides her now-known past, Ms. Burns didn’t have any other surprises stashed away, like, say, some criminal record or something. After all, she was now positively going to marry you and become a part of the family.”

“Did you find any criminal records then?” Wolf asked, half mockingly.

Art shook his head. “No, she is clean.” He thought for a moment. “You must think I’m making all this up. I’m not, I assure you. I’m willing to take a paternity. In fact, I insist on it. That way, all doubts and speculations can be laid to rest.”

A heavy hush befell. Wolf felt like throwing up.

“I know this comes as a shock to you. It’s an equal shock to me,” Art said at last. “Life has this nasty habit of throwing up jolts when we least expect it, doesn’t it? But what can we do besides face situations with as much equanimity and grace as possible.”

“Why don’t you let it lie, Art,” Wolf said, suddenly animated. “Savannah has just about found some happiness. Don’t seize her daughter from her.”

“Robin’s my daughter as well, Wolf. And a child needs her father too.”

“In any case, Savannah and Robin shall be living at Butcher Garden.
Your…daughter…
shall be living around you. Why go to court?”
Your daughter
—it felt so bizarre to say the words.

“I think I should have full custody. That’s the only way to bring the girl up—in a proper, decent climate.”

Wolf’s jaw fell. “You want to deny Robin her mother?” he demanded. “How can you even think like that?”

“If you want to marry Ms. Burns, Wolf, that’s your business. But I cannot have my daughter raised by a woman of such character. Robin deserves better.”

“
Character?
...whose imaginary lapse you were responsible for?” Wolf half-shouted.

“That won’t do,” Art said. “Each individual is responsible for one’s own actions. One can’t just pin one’s sins on others and walk away.”

What sins? … Fucking imaginary sins.
His throat felt tight. “On what grounds are you seeking custody?”

“That she’s an unfit mother.”

“Unfit mother? Sweet shit! How can you even say that? Have you seen her around Robin? She’s the best mother any child could ever hope to have. No one can care more…”

“Please don’t shout at me, Wolf,” Art said quietly.

“I’m sorry.” He swallowed, then continued in a more temperate tone. “No court is going to heed your plea, Art. It shall come out that Savannah is the perfect mother…as good as they come. So why unnecessarily…”

“We’ll see about that,” Art said shortly. “Let the courts decide, alright?” He glanced at the wall clock.

Wolf jumped out of his seat. He rushed to Art and kneeling before him grabbed Art’s right hand in both his.

“Please don’t do it! I beg you, brother, don’t do it! All you’ll do is upset Robin a great deal. They have suffered enough, Art, let her and Savannah have some calm now. Please!” He lowered his head, resting his brow on Art’s knee.

Art shifted uneasily. He sighed. “I’m truly sorry, Wolf. But the right thing needs to be done by Robin. Perhaps she will find things a little difficult now, but in the long run…”

Wolf clutched Art’s nightgown. “I won’t! I won’t let you destroy their lives…I won’t!”

“You are getting too excited. Please let go of my clothes!”

“You shall withdraw the petition. I beg you! First thing in the morning you shall tell your lawyers to pull back!”

“I’m truly sorry but I can’t do that. Now let go of me and cool down.”

Wolf looked at this man, his family, his blood, someone he loved and respected so much. Yet who was now hell bent on destroying the two people who formed the very basis of Wolf’s existence.

Art pushed Wolf back. “I won’t have you behaving with me this way! Now leave my room and catch up on some sleep yourself. It’s obvious you badly need it.”

Wolf’s skull blew up. A flat missile screamed across space and Art went flying backward on the bed, landing solidly on his back. Wolf hovered over him for a moment, his right fist primed a foot above Art’s face. Then he gave a little groan, and he turned around and left the room.

He banged on Grant’s door. Then he banged again.

“Wolf!” Estelle exclaimed.

“Where’s Dad?!” he cried.

“He isn’t here. What’s wrong?”

“I need him! Please, where is he?”

“He went out. He didn’t say where. Is something bothering you?”

.

T
he doorbell rang, startling the three. No one moved. The bell sounded again.

“You want to answer it?” Maddy said stiffly.

Finally Savannah got to her feet. She peeked through the view-hole and froze. But only for a second. With a quick hoick of air, she opened the door.

Grant Butcher stood before her.

“May I come in?” he said, his face grim.

Savannah stood aside, stone-faced, saying nothing.

“I heard,” he said, lowering himself in the empty armchair opposite Rochelle. “Is it true, Savannah?”

“I don’t get your point, Mr. President,” she said.

“Is Art the father?”

“Not true.”

“He is ready for the paternity. If he is lying, he shall be exposed, shall he not be?”

An amused smile came to Savannah’s lips. “I doubt that very much, Mr. President?”

“Why do you say that? … And please do not address me ‘Mr. President’. I look upon you as my daughter. Still. And shall…forever.”

Her smile widened. She ignored the second part of his sentence and said, “I’ll tell you exactly why, Mr. President. Because I’m dealing with some extremely potent people who are keenly intent on stealing my daughter from me any which way they can. Because I’m dealing with moral lepers who live lavish lifestyles but have very spartan minds. Because I’m dealing with people of high fame and zero conscience. There’s really no saying what such people can do, how far they can descend…what they will fix.”

A slight flush came to Grant’s face. “I understand how you feel, Savannah.”

“Again I doubt that very much, Mr. President.” There was a condescending glint in her eyes.

“Do you remember
him
then? I mean the guy from back then…Robin’s father?” Maddy asked.

“His name was Wavell Waugh, not Art Butcher,” Savannah said coldly.

“I mean do you remember his face?”

“Not clearly. But enough to know that it nowhere resembled this man…the President’s son.”

“So why then is Art taking such a colossal risk?” Grant said. “Why is he claiming Robin?”

“Isn’t it simple?” The amused smile was back. “You champions always wanted to keep Robin away from me. Now that you legally can’t, this is a new devise to grab my daughter.” She turned to Maddy. “You know what? I don’t think it is Art at all. It’s him,” she said calmly, pointing at Grant, as one would a beautiful painting. “He is behind it all, this God of New Halcyon. Art Butcher wouldn’t dare do something like this on his own. It was this pious man all along who never wanted me in his family, who tried his best to break Wolf and me up. This great man, of such noble qualities.” She turned back to Grant. “I’ll tell you what, sir—you were right. Wolf and I do not belong with each other. You can keep him. I’m sorry I ever entangled myself with your incredible family. The prime mistake of my life, Mr. President, and I thank you so very much for opening my eyes to reality.”

“You are angry, Savannah, and you are uttering very unfair things,” Grant said, visibly embarrassed.

Savannah regarded him for a very long time, gimlet-eyed.

Then her eyes began to spark. “I’ll tell you something, Mr. President.” Her voice was low. “Don’t you dare cast your evil eyes on my daughter. Or you’ll be truly, truly sorry. I’ll wipe out your entire family before you can come anywhere near her, I promise you that.”

“Are you threatening me, Ms. Burns?”

There was a sudden blast in Savannah’s head. She dove forward, picked up a glass vase from the coffee table and flung it at Grant. It arrowed through the air and landed with a thud on his chest. A rose stem, not properly shaved, scraped his face and a red mark appeared on his right cheek and swelled quickly.

“Get out! Get the hell out of my house, you! OUT!” she screamed.

Grant stared at her, stunned. Then he slowly rose to his feet. And he turned around and left without a word. After a moment of paralysis, Rochelle stood up too and followed him.

“Yes, go after him, bitch, go! Once a Butcher, always a goddamn Butcher!” Savannah spat at her back.

.

H
e sat on the top step of the front porch, his head in his hands, feeling the sickness of a man faced with total ruin.

The main gate opened then, a Honda rolled in, then came to a quiet halt before the house. As Grant and Rochelle began climbing the porch steps, Wolf looked up. He rapidly got to his feet, his heart giving a little flip of reassurance. Then he saw the blood-stained handkerchief pressed to Grant’s face and the feeling of comfort turned to alarm.

“What…what happened?!” he stammered.

Rochelle glared at him. “Your bitch…” she spat. But Grant cut her off with a sharp nudge of the elbow.

Wolf followed them sheepishly into the house, as Rochelle led Grant to the family living room. She sat him on a settee, then rushed out. Wolf stood before Grant and stared at him stupidly.

She was back inside a minute, a first-aid kit in her hands. She was expert and swift as she dealt with the little wound.

“What happened?” Wolf repeated.

Grant tried to smile. “A slight accident. Nothing really.”

“Where…where had you gone?”

“To check out the stars,” Rochelle said, dripping sarcasm.

“What happened? Please tell me the truth.”

Grant glanced at Rochelle. She shook her head disgustedly. “A horrible night bug smashed against his cheek,” she said. “Thankfully, it missed the eyes.”

Wolf didn’t believe that—the lie was too blatant.

“You wanted to see me, son?” Grant asked.

Wolf took a deep breath. “It’s true,” he said. “I talked to Art. It’s true.”

“Yes, alas,” Grant nodded gravely. “He even insists on a paternity.”

“How can he do this?” Wolf blurted. “You must stop him, sir…immediately.”

“I did try. I tried my darnest, but he is not listening.”

“If you
really
want you can stop him,” Wolf insisted.

“He is just not heeding me,” Grant said flatly.

“Sweet shit, I don’t believe this! You are in this too, aren’t you?”