“You did what? You lived in a car?”
“I was homeless, Dad. Homeless.”
“I didn’t…I never knew.”
“Of course not. I was the idiot who shielded you from all my struggles out there,” I say, pointing to the door. “Because I felt so bad you were in jail, wrongfully. I wanted you to have peace with at least one thing in your life. I didn’t want to burden you. God, I’m so stupid.”
“Honey.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “Helen. I’m so, so sorry. I—”
“No! You lied to me. You made me a fool. Everyone was right about you, and I stood there and defended you and left everyone and everything I knew. God, Dad, how could you? Alex was right. I’m so naïve.” I’m sobbing, but I can’t sit down. I’m too infuriated to sit. My world has come crashing down on me for the second time in my life. Everything I thought I knew has been a lie.
He looks up, wiping his tears. “Alex? Archer?”
“Yes. Alex. I’m…we’re…I love him, Dad. I love him and I don’t deserve him, not after I defended you over and over. And—oh God, Alex’s father.” I sob even harder. “It was your fault.” How can Alex even stand being around me?
“I knew the Archers would find a way to turn you against me.”
What? “You turned me against you. No one else did that but you, Dad. You. This is all your fault. All of it.” I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. “I am done, Dad. I’m done visiting you. I’m done defending you. I want nothing to do with you.”
I wipe my tears with the back of my hand and then turn and walk away from him. He yells my name desperately, but as hard as it is, I walk out, leaving him in prison by himself. As he deserves.
Chapter 12
Alex
I’ve been sitting in a heated car for the past two hours, staring at the entrance of a bloody prison. How long can she possibly talk to that man?
I’m losing my patience. I don’t do well sitting and waiting. That’s not me. I have a fucking company to run and shit to do.
I open the car door and step out into the frigid weather and pace around. The driver is watching me with avid curiosity, but I don’t give a fuck.
Then, I see a small woman in a long black velvet coat, jeans, and boots that go up to her knees walk out, and I stop mid-step and watch her. She swipes under her eyes a few times and then with the heel of her palm, rubs her nose. She sets her oversized purse on top of a closed garbage can and starts rummaging through it. She has not looked up once.
She needs to be more aware of her surroundings. I bristle as I lean against the car. She finds what she is looking for, wipes her eyes once more, and then puts on huge black sunglasses that cover almost half of her face.
She heaves her purse over her shoulder and begins to walk. There are no other cars in the visitor parking lot and I haven’t seen her use her phone to call for a cab.
As I continue to watch her, I’m suddenly taken aback by the force of feelings that are running through me. She takes my breath away. It’s the same reaction I always have when I look at her.
I push myself off the car and walk toward her.
The moment Helen sees me she stops, her mouth slightly open in surprise, and then she runs right into my arms, startling me.
“I was wrong about everything, Alex. I am so sorry.” She releases heart-wrenching sobs. “I am so, so sorry. How could I be so stupid? He betrayed me. I’m so sorry about your dad, Alex. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. It’s all his fault. All of it.”
“It’s not all his fault, sweetheart.” I kiss the top of her head. “My father made a decision he didn’t have to make. I can’t help but blame your father for that, but in truth, my father had options. And I know you were an innocent in all of it. I was wrong too. I should have known you were not part of it. I should have come find you. My mom should have called you. There are so many things we all did wrong.”
She sobs harder into my chest. “What are you doing here?” she says between hiccupping sobs.
“Honestly,” I say, running my fingers through my hair, “I don’t know. I think I just didn’t like the idea of you coming here alone. And before you say that you can handle it and you’re independent and you don’t need me, I know all of that. I know how strong you are, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here to make things a little easier for you or that I don’t want to try to shield you from hurt. So, don’t give me shit for coming here. I did it because I needed to do it.”
Her plump bottom lip trembles slightly and I can tell she’s holding back more sobs. But with those damn glasses, I can’t see her eyes.
“That is the most you’ve ever said to me.”
“I’ve said more to you than that before.”
“No. Not about how you feel. Your words make me happy, Alex. Thank you for saying them.”
I hug her tightly, unsure how to respond. “My driver’s over there.” I point behind me.
“I want to walk a little, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” I take her hand in mine, and she looks down at where our hands are connected.
She lifts my hand up, kisses it softly, then lets go of it. “A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours. I think I need to be alone for a bit. I have to process all of this.”
I take a step back and gesture for her to walk.
“Uh…I’ll see you later?” I nod and she walks away. But there’s no way I came all the way to Seattle to see her, only to let her process all this bad shit on her own. So I do the rational thing. I follow her.
She continues to walk for what feels like miles and I follow her every step of the way. I know she knows I’m behind her, but she doesn’t acknowledge me. Eventually, she gets to a bus stop and sits down. I haven’t taken a bus in…I’ve never taken a bus.
I follow Helen onto the bus. She has money ready in her palm and dumps it into the machine for both of us. I don’t even know how much it is. She sits in between two people and since the bus is packed, I’m stuck in a window seat next to a sleeping woman, across the aisle from Helen. She still hasn’t removed her sunglasses, and her lips seem to be permanently stuck in a frown. It must be hell to find out your father isn’t who you thought he was.
I hope this isn’t a long ride, as the woman next to me gets comfortable and begins snoring. Helen takes out a Kindle and begins to read. I sigh in frustration and sit back, my head thumping against the glass.
We ride for what feels like a long time, but really it’s maybe twenty minutes. And we’ve traveled just a few short miles, because of all the stopping and starting as people get in and out. At one point, the person beside Helen leaves and I move to sit next to her.
The bus stops in a part of town that I’m mildly familiar with. It’s a nice, quaint little area, with cafés and bookstores and shops. She puts her purse on her shoulder and gets up.
I guess this is our stop.
As we exit the bus, the wind hits me like a dozen sharp shards of glass against my skin and I tighten my coat around me. She’s not even half as covered as I am. She must be freezing in that cheap black coat.
I’m not paying attention and when she stops abruptly, I crash into her back and immediately hold on to her shoulders to steady her. “Sorry. Sorry,” I apologize.
She turns around in my arms but then takes a step back. “What are you doing, Alex?”
“I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry. You okay?”
I grasp her shoulders again and check her for injuries, but she jerks away.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Why are you following me?”
“I’m giving you the space you need, but I also want to make sure you’re okay.”
There’s a slight smirk on her lips.
She walks into a café and sli
des into a booth, and I slide in opposite her.
The waitress comes over and brings us menus, but Helen just waves hers aside. “I’d like a ham and cheese omelet with tomatoes. Crispy bacon, toast, and an order of the strawberry pancakes.”
I guess she’s been here before.
“And you? You need a menu?”
Helen tells the waitress, “He’s not with me.” The waitress’s brows furrow in confusion and I wave Helen off. “Don’t mind her. She likes to tease me. I’ll have the same.”
When the waitress leaves, neither of us talk. I just sit and watch people come in and go out, some lingering over coffee, others rushing to get to wherever they’re going next.
She still hasn’t taken off her glasses and I’m finding that I detest that frown.
“I used to come here with my parents every Wednesday after my dad got out of work, and we’d have breakfast for dinner. After Mom died when I was ten, we stopped coming for a few years until one day, one particularly bad day where I really missed her, Dad brought me here and it just…made me feel better.” Her voice is thick with sadness. “Today I feel like I lost my father.” She starts to sob into her palms, her shoulders shaking.
Quickly, I move to her side of the booth and take her in my arms. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling.”
“You were right. You probably feel vindicated.”
“Absolutely not! I’m sorry I pushed you into this, sweetheart. I hate seeing you like this.”
I sit there holding her until she quiets down.
Helen
My dad is a sack of shit.
Alex was right.
The news was right.
Everyone was right.
And I was wrong.
But how do I go about processing that? How do you suddenly start to see that your hero is really the villain? There’s no on-and-off switch for love and I don’t know how to feel. Better yet, I don’t know which feeling should take precedence.
I feel guilt at the grief my father caused everyone, especially Alex’s family, the depth of which I don’t yet even know. And right now, I don’t want to know.
I just want to eat my food. Walk back to my hotel and sleep. Sleep for two days and not think about anything.
After we eat, Alex takes my hand and leads me outside toward a black sedan. “Where are we going?” I ask him curiously.
“Although your walking tour of Seattle was fun, it’s time to go home and I want to do it in a warm car, if that’s okay with you.”
“Home?”
“Yes. My home. You’re tired, and I’m sure you’d like to sleep and forget about the hellish day you’ve had.”
“It’s like you read my mind.” After I get in, I close my eyes and lean my head against the back of the leather seat and drift off to sleep.
When I open my eyes, I’m being carried out of the car and up a grand staircase. “I can walk,” I protest, sleepily.
“Shhh. Just go back to sleep.” He deposits me on a bed and in moments I’m asleep again.
Chapter 13
Alex
I leave Helen in my bed the next morning. She’s exhausted, the poor thing. As I head downstairs, I make a mental note to tell my chef, Louisa, to make Helen’s favorite strawberry pancakes, and lot and lots of coffee.
“Alexander Archer, is it true? Please tell me it is not true,” I hear as soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs.
I find my mother in a pantsuit and little heels, clicking and clacking my way. I sigh, loudly. I don’t have the energy to deal with her now. “Is what true?”
“First, you come to town and don’t even call your own mother. And then I hear from Joan, who heard it from Lisa, who heard from Rhonda, that you were seen around town with that…that…that…I can’t even say her name.”
“Helen, Mom? With Helen Blackwood?”
Jesus Christ, word travels fast!
She gasps dramatically. “So it’s true?”
Damn it, I don’t want Helen to hear this conversation.
“You came all the way over here at eight in the morning to ask me who I was with yesterday? That’s absurd and overdramatic, even for you, Mother. You rarely leave the house, and yet you come here for this?”
“I’ve been calling you, but you’ve been avoiding my calls.”
She’s right. I did get a call from her, several calls actually, but I ignored them.
“Explain yourself, Alexander. Immediately.”
I roll my eyes. It’s ridiculous that she thinks she can order me around like a child. “What is there to explain?” I head to the kitchen and pour myself coffee and then fill a mug for her. “You seem to know already.”
“I don’t understand. Are you…are you…you can’t be dating her. That would kill me, Alex. Do you hear me? Kill. Me.” She accentuates each word.
I roll my eyes again. “Stop it, Mother.” I just want her to leave. After all Helen went through yesterday, the positively last thing she needs is to deal with my mother.
“No! Not until you tell me what is going on, Alex.”
“Nothing. There’s nothing going on. And please, lower your voice. There’s no need to yell.”
“I’m not—” She stops abruptly and looks around. “Wait, is she here?” She gasps again.
“Yes. Now keep your voice down.”
“What?” she screeches, clutching her pearls.
“Mother, this is absurd. Please sit down and listen,” I say calmly, even though there is not an ounce of calm in me. “I want to talk to you. Explain a few things. We’ve been wrong about Helen.”
“She’s a murderer. You hear me? A murderer.”
“Mother, that’s enough. She is not a murderer. She’s just a victim of her father’s lies. Just like you and me. Stop listening to town gossip.” I pace away from her, needing a moment to calm myself, when I slam right into Helen.
Shit. She heard it all.
She’s going to leave me. I know it. My mother and her vitriol are going to ruin everything. But to my surprise, Helen simply reaches up and caresses my face. “It’s okay, Alex.” She moves around me and toward my mother. “Good morning, Mrs. Archer. I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to talk with you. Maybe we can sit, have some coffee.”
“No! I will not sit and chat with you like we’re friends, and you will not stand in my house and tell me what to do.”
I look at Helen apologetically, before turning back to my mother. “Mom, do it for me, please. Listen to what she has to say.”
“I said no! Get out!” she yells at Helen, and I’ve had enough. I slam my palms down on the table so hard the boom echoes through the house.
“This is my house. Not yours, Mother. And she stays. You are welcome to go. I love her, so if you don’t want to lose me, you’d better listen to what she’s got to say.”
Both women’s eyes are wide as saucers. I realize what I just said and I wince. That was definitely not how I wanted to tell Helen. I glance over at her.
She’s gazing at me tenderly, and for a moment I forget that there’s anyone else in the room.
My mother blinks rapidly, her mouth wide open in shock and dismay. “The Archer men fall for the Blackwood lies every time. Don’t you see, she’s pushing you away from me.”
“If you say one more negative thing about Helen, I will escort you out myself. Now, I’d like you to sit down and listen to what she has to say.”
“Mrs. Archer, please hear me out. I promise I’m not trying to pit you and your son against each other. If you still hate me after we talk, I’ll…I’ll walk away from him, I swear.”
“That’s not happening,” I interject, but Helen elbows me.
For a second there, my mother looks like she’s going to arg
ue some more. But then she glances over at me and sits down slowly, and Helen starts talking.
“I went to see my father yesterday.”
“Pft,” my mother says with a look of disgust.
Helen ignores her and continues. “For the past twelve years, I’ve been living with my head buried in the sand. Alex told me what my father did and I didn’t believe him. I thought he was wrong, that he didn’t know what he was talking about. Because my father lied to me. He told me that he was innocent. And I was young and stupid and so I believed him, but I know there’s absolutely no excuse for it. I am so sorry, Mrs. Archer. So very sorry for any part that my father played in your husband’s death. I’m sorry my father stole from you. I’m just so very—” Her voice cracks, but she continues. “I’m just so very sorry. You have every right to hate my father. I won’t begrudge you that. I’m not exactly fond of him right now either. But please know that I had nothing to do with it. Nothing. I didn’t know. Please believe I didn’t know.” She lets out an involuntary sob. “What you and Alex must have felt when Mr. Archer—” She pauses, unable to continue. I sit next to her to try to comfort her, but she pushes me away. I know she wants to get this all out. “Please know that I always thought of you and Mr. Archer as family. After my father was arrested, I had a lot of resentment toward you,” she admits. “And your son too. I thought you had abandoned me. But now that I know the truth, I don’t even know how Alex can stand being around me.”
I’m done listening to this. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to say any more.”
Helen looks at me gratefully and nods. “Please excuse me for a moment.” She gets up and heads toward the bathroom.
“Well,” my mother exhales indignantly. “Are you foolish enough to believe that rubbish? Where has she been all this time? The French Riviera? The Caribbean?”
“Miami, mother. She’s been in Miami. She was homeless and all alone for a very long time. She shops at Goodwill, she has a small house, and she’s worked at a fast-food joint and then at a bar. It’s not what we thought. She didn’t know what her father did, and she didn’t have a secret stash of millions. She’s had a tough time the past twelve years. And we—we did abandon her. She was only eighteen. We should have reached out to her. She wasn’t the one who screwed us. Her father did, not Helen.”
What About Us Page 18
