The Ties that Bind (Kingdom) (8 page)

Steve could see that Hope’s introspective look was back, and this time he remained silent.

“That was how it was in our house. My father spoiling me, my mother crying and drinking, and me getting whatever I wanted. As I grew older and prettier, I began to see just how much I resembled my mother and I hated it. I hated her. I didn’t want anything to do with her. I didn’t want to turn out to be like her; a stumbling, mumbling relic of a woman who stunk of alcohol!” Jumping to her feet, Hope clutched the front of her sweater with both hands, as though she wanted to rip it apart.

It seemed to Steve that her level of agitation was such that he knew they had to take a break. He had met her parents, had seen them interact, and had noticed how controlling her father had been towards both her and his wife.

He remembered too that it had been a monumental task to get Hope to introduce him to her parents. As their first dinner together progressed, he had realized why. At their meeting at the restaurant all had seemed normal. Steve had been struck by the similarity between mother and daughter, and had complimented her mother, saying that he now understood where Hope had gotten her beauty. He recalled that he had registered something in Hope’s father’s eyes that he had thought was jealousy but had dismissed it as his mind playing tricks on him.

As their dinner progressed, he had noticed that Hope’s father kept his wife’s wine glass topped off. He had seen her delicately place her hand over the top of the glass to refuse a refill, but she had been ignored. He had also noticed that the vibrant woman who he had met at the start of the evening was gone. Her eyes becoming progressively more glazed until her conversation was entirely gone.

At this stage, he could tell that Hope was deeply embarrassed by her mother, and it seemed to Steve that her father’s expression was one of satisfaction. He had been in their company a handful of times subsequent to that first meeting, and the pattern was always repeated. Steve knew abuse when he saw it, and had tried to question Hope about the toxic relationship her parents shared. Her anger at his inquiries about her mother’s wellbeing had surprised him.

She had told him that her father had spent years attempting to get her mother help but that there was no helping her. Her disdain for the woman who had given her life had astonished Steve. His attempts to show her his perspective as an outsider on how he saw her parents’ relationship had resulted in her verbally attacking him. An argument had ensued which culminated in Hope storming out.

Unperturbed by her tantrum, Steve had revisited the conversation again. The result always being the same, Hope’s unwillingness to see her parents in any other roles than the ones she had grown accustomed to.

At one of their infrequent meetings he and tried to get Taryn on her own to speak with her. He had wanted to let her know that if she ever needed anything she could call on him. He had given her his card, but as he had been handing it over, Mason had approached them and had wanted to know what they had been discussing. Taryn’s hand had closed so tightly around the card, Mason’s eyes were immediately drawn to her fist.

Taryn had told her husband that Steve had just given her his card as he wanted to talk to her about a gift he was thinking of getting for Hope. Mason had smiled, but it never reached his eyes. He had given Steve a knowing look, taken his wife’s arm, and led her away. Steve had never heard from Taryn, and that had been the last time he had seen her.

“It’s okay, Hope. Why don’t you take a break?” Steve spoke into the silence that had enveloped the room while at the same time pushing his memories of her parents away.

“Alright. Do you want something to drink?” Hope’s ready acceptance of his suggestions told Steve just how much the revealing of her background was affecting her.

“You know what I really need right now? I need something to eat. Let’s go out, and I’ll treat you to a late lunch.” Steve suggested. Hope’s immediate agreement to his suggestion spoke volumes, and Steve was prepared to give her the respite she seemed to need. However, before the night was over, he would hear it all.

Chapter 9

Hope’s attempt at eating had been met with a churning of her stomach that caused her to excuse herself on more than one occasion. From what she could see, Steve hadn’t fared much better. She knew neither of them were interested in their meal. Rather, Steve’s suggestion that they go out for a meal had been his way to give her time to compose herself.

He may well hate her at this point, but she knew him well enough to know that he always had the wellbeing of others in the forefront of his mind.

For the thousandth time, Hope mentally berated herself for her stupidity at what she had done to him. How, without a thought for his feelings, she had played out a role that for her was almost second nature.

While a part of her mind rejoiced in the fact that Steve was actually sitting across the table from her, she wasn’t so foolish as to imagine, even for a moment that she could win him back. Too much had happened. He was still too hurt by the way she had behaved, and most distressing of all, he no longer trusted her.

Throughout the weeks since she had last seen Steve, Hope had come to realize that, while she missed his presence and the warmth of his love, she was most saddened that she had lost his trust.

Something of her inner feelings must have been reflected in her regard of him because Steve moved abruptly. Removing his napkin form his lap he threw it down on his barely touched plate.

“If you’re finished, let’s get out of here.” Whatever he had seen in her eyes, Hope could tell had angered him.

With a nod, she too removed her napkin and folded it beside her plate as Steve signaled for the check.

As they walked back towards the apartment, Hope’s mind wandered back towards the last time they had taken this walk together. They had been laughing and joking, holding hands and talking nonsense to each other. The beautiful couple had drawn many admiring glances from both men and women, but they had been so wrapped up in their time together neither of them had noticed.

Unable to stop herself, Hope extended her fingers allowing them to brush against Steve’s. His reaction shocked her in how quickly he pulled away from her touch. Glancing up, Hope saw that he hadn’t even spared her a look. His eyes were trained straight ahead, as though he were walking down the street alone.

The rain that had been falling on and off all day decided that this was the moment to begin again in earnest. It brought with it the smell of the decaying leaves associated with fall. Through her tears, Hope focused on the horizon taking in the darkening hues of the rolling sky that so mirrored her inner turmoil.

As the rain continued to fall and the drops fell against her skin, Hope turned her face upwards allowing the crisp moisture to diminish her humiliation at Steve’s reaction. Continuing forward, she berated herself at her stupidity. He was barely tolerating her, and just for a moment she had allowed herself to forget that extremely significant fact.

Destiny’s apartment was located in Camden Town, and the couple didn’t have far to walk from the restaurant back to where Hope was staying. However it was far enough for them to both be soaked through to the skin.

“I need to get out of these wet clothes.” Steve said, with impatience in his voice. They were inside the flat, but Hope couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“Of course, sorry. Why don’t you use my room.”

“I’ll use, Destiny’s room. You need to get out of those wet clothes as well.”

Steve didn’t wait for an answer as he collected his bag and disappeared into Destiny’s bedroom.

Once in dry clothes, Hope didn’t immediately leave her room. She realized she was being a coward, but she felt she needed the respite that being enclosed in the room provided. Steve had made it clear that he was there for answers. Hope fully intended to give him what he wanted, but knew that once she was finished it might well be the last time she saw him. That thought alone kept her sequestered behind the closed door.

The loud knock pulled Hope from her reverie. Her time was up. If he hated her now, when she was finished telling him everything, he would loathe her.

“I made coffee.”

Hope waited for him to say more, but Steve remained silent. He had withdrawn, and was obviously waiting for her to emerge.

When Hope entered the lounge, she noticed that Steve had changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater. He had also retaken the same seat he had previously occupied, holding a cup of steaming coffee between his large hands.

Swallowing, Hope moved into the room and sat down. Picking up the coffee Steve had left for her, she took a cautious sip, conscious of its heat.

Looking up from her drink, Hope saw that Steve was watching her, his eyes devoid of emotion. His blank stare made her even more uncomfortable. Understanding that he wasn’t about to speak, Hope cleared her throat, took a deep breath and charged in.

“I guess you can tell by now that I hate my mother. Well the feeling is mutual, she hates me!” Hope’s opening sally received the desired reaction, she had managed to shock Steve out of his blank regard.

“Come on, Steve, you look shocked. You’ve met my mother. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that she can’t stand me?”

“What are you talking about? Your mother does not hate you!”

Hope’s dismissive laughter must have elicited some form of adverse reaction in Steve because she saw him rub at his skin as though ants were crawling over him, and he was unable to suppress a shudder.

“Why do you think your mother hates you?”

“She’s a drunk. What mother chooses a bottle of alcohol over her own child? I’ll tell you what kind, the kind that doesn’t give a shit!”

 “Is that really what you think?”

“Yes, it’s really what I think. Do you know that the only time I ever truly remember my mother being sober was when Aviva came to stay with us? I was seventeen years old, and it was the first time I could truly recall my mother without the glaze of drink in her eyes.

They, my mother, and Aviva used to spend so much time together. I remember Vee used to try to pull me into their talks and shopping trips. But I wasn’t interested. That woman could fool Aviva, but she couldn’t fool me.”

Steve sat perfectly still waiting, the forgotten coffee cup still in his hand.

“Poor, Aviva. That poor motherless child. Her mother gone, and a father whom she had travelled thousands of miles to find, didn’t want her. On the same day of her arrival in the states, she was ensconced in our house. Her father frightened that his rich wife and her even richer family would find out about his bastard daughter.” Hope recited her words sounding as though she were repeating the words a child would hear an adult speak.

“Why do you say that?” Steve asked.

“I can say that because I was a shameless eavesdropper. I listened to every late night conversation I could get away with. I wanted information so that I could use it against her, hurt her the way I was hurting.” Hope said, looking Steve dead in the eyes, so he was left in no doubt as to the seriousness of her words. She wanted him to know exactly how she had felt about Aviva all those years ago. She also wanted him to see that those twisted feelings still held enough power over her to re-emerge when she was experiencing bouts of stress.

Over the subsequent years, her feelings towards Aviva had changed, they had become the best of friends. Hope also didn’t think she could manage without her. But her actions on her wedding day had also shown her that she still had residual hurt that was directed towards Aviva that she still needed to work through.

Hope now understood it was time to relinquish her foolish hurt feelings. Too many people had been hurt by her unwillingness to let go of the past.

“I tried to hate her, but she wouldn’t let me. I was such a bitch to her, and she gave it right back to me. The funny thing is, no matter how vile I was to her, she wouldn’t let me hate her. So I stopped trying. Aviva is one of the toughest human beings I know. So little compared to me, but in possession of so much strength she blows my mind.” As she came to a stop, Hope didn’t realize that a smile had overtaken her expression.

“I miss her, Steve. Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

“I can’t answer that, Hope.”

“No, I suppose not.” Giving herself a visible shake, Hope continued.

“To this day I don’t know why my father allowed Aviva to come and stay with us. I tried to find out, but I never could. Then one day it just didn’t matter anymore. Growing up my house was filled with secrets and problems. Yet, for me, the reasons behind all the disquiet seemed to ease a little when Aviva came to stay. But the biggest problem of all was never spoken aloud.”

Hope drew in a breath, fortifying herself. This was it. This was the moment all her words had been leading to. She was finally ready to tell him what he really wanted to know. What had turned her into the twisted woman who now sat before him.

“Did I ever tell you that I had a brother?”

“No, I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Well I did. But he died.

The silence in the room was palpable, and Hope subconsciously hoped Steve would say something to help her with what she knew she had yet to say.

“How did he die, Hope?”

Moment after moment slipped by while Hope remained silent. When the words came they were delivered without artifice.

“I drowned him in our pool.”

Hope had refused to say another word after her admission. No matter how much Steve had probed, she had remained silent. She could see his frustration, his need for answers, but the words wouldn’t come.

She had simply withstood his barrage of questions until her nerves could take no more. Then she had retreated, and Steve hadn’t tried to stop her.

Once in her room she had locked the door, laid down on the bed still fully clothed, and thought of her little brother. But try as she might she couldn’t remember him. She had seen photos of him, and she remembered the stories her father used to tell her about Mason Junior or M.J. as they called him. But she couldn’t remember
him
. All she could remember about him was the day he died, his lifeless body floating on top of the rippling aqua of the water. Memories of him before that day were just a gaping hole of nothingness.