“Thanks, man. It's … nothing. It's a couple of faked pictures and a bunch of made-up scandal and innuendo. It'll pass. And Donna and me … we've already talked it all out and we're cool. But I appreciate your support, man.”
“Yeah, of course. I'm sorry I wasn't able to be at the wedding.”
“No, man. I'm sorry that we couldn't wait. I really wanted to, but Donna's brother was moving to France for his job and he wouldn't have been able to be there otherwise,” Cory said apologetically.
“No, it's cool, man. I understand,” Benji told him. “But I'm real happy for you, and I just wanted you to know that.”
“Thanks, brother,” he smiled, hugging Benji once more and slapping his back affectionately.
They all filed out then. But before he headed home, Cory decided on a whim to stop by his mom's house for a quick visit. And when he pulled into her driveway, he was instantly aggravated at what he saw. He got out of the car with a grimace on his face, shaking his head because he just didn't understand her sometimes.
“Mom, what are you doing?” he asked with a smirk. And Ellen looked at him somewhat sheepishly as she set down the gas-powered hedge trimmers that she was using to trim her shrubs.
“Hi, honey! How was your rehearsal?” she said cheerfully.
“Rehearsal was great,” Cory answered as he smiled at her. “But don't try to change the subject. You are in trouble, young lady! Why are you wrestling with that contraption, Mom? See, this is what you need a professional gardener for! This thing is much too heavy for you to be lugging around yourself. And you need to be careful with these things. You could take a finger off if you don't pay attention!”
“Oh, Cory,” she sighed, waving her hand at him. “You treat me with kid gloves, honey. I'm a lot tougher than I look. And I love working in my garden! Besides, I have to keep the Coyote Brush carefully contained or it will completely take over the yard. It can be invasive, you know?”
Cory shook his head at her, trying not to smile. “I really wish you would let me take care of you.”
Ellen touched his face with her palm. “Oh, honey. You are such a good boy,” she smiled at him. “And the fact that you want to take care of me means so much, Cory. But I don't want, or need, for you to do that. And you have a wife now; you just take care of her, okay.”
“Mom …”
“But if you want to feel useful,” she smiled, “you could put the hedge trimmers away in the garage for me while I pick up the debris from the lawn.”
She wasn't about to give him an inch, and Cory could do nothing but stand there and smile at her. She really was something. “I don't know what I'm going to do with you,” he mumbled, shaking his head at her.
“Just love me,” she chirped, leaning in to kiss his cheek before she turned to pick up her gardening gloves. “The trimmers go on the shelves at the back of the garage. You'll see the box.”
Cory chuckled at her and bent down to pick up the gadget. And as he strolled off to the garage with it he wondered again how she was able to hoist the thing herself since it wasn't exactly lightweight and his mom was pretty petite. But he had learned over the years that there wasn't much his mom couldn't do once she set her mind to it. And he supposed that's why she had always been his hero.
He entered the garage and went straight toward the back, easily spotting the large box on the metal shelves marked “garden trimmers.” Holding the machine in one hand, he reached up with the other and grabbed a hold of the box to pull it down. As he did, the corner of the box caught hold of the corner of the smaller box beside it, and Cory was suddenly showered with papers as the box and its contents came tumbling down.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He quickly replaced the hedge trimmer to its box and set it up on the shelf. Then he turned his attention to the mess on the floor at his feet. Crouching down, he began to clean it up. The papers, he quickly realized, were actually envelopes. And he frowned when he noticed that some of the envelopes were addressed to him. What the hell? Looking more closely, he felt the color drain from his face when he read the return address. They were all from Charles Dutton. From places all over the country – Florida, Nevada, New Jersey, Alaska. California.
Cory's breath quickened as he continued to study the envelopes in his hands and all around him. There must have been at least a hundred of them. Some were addressed to Caroline, some to Cat. Some to him. He couldn't believe it. All these years. All of his life, he had wondered about this man. Wondered how he could have walked out on him and his sisters without ever looking back. Only now, it turns out that he did look back. Often. Cory had no idea what was in the envelopes, or what any of it might say. But that didn't matter. The point was that the man had reached out. Or at least he had tried to over the years. Over and over apparently. From the time Cory was a very little boy. Holy shit.
He started sorting the envelopes, placing them into piles according to who they were addressed to. And he found that there were a considerable number of letters there for his mother too. Most of them were unopened, and Cory wondered why. And as he thought about it, he realized that he had so many questions. And he knew they were questions that only his mother could answer.
Once he had all the envelopes sorted into separate piles, Cory set about sorting his pile even further. He got comfortable on the garage floor, sitting Indian style as he spread his pile of envelopes around him. Then he carefully and meticulously began to put them in chronological order according to the date on the postmark. It didn't take him long to find a pattern. There was an envelope for each of his birthdays. All of them. Starting with his first and ending with his last, just six months ago when he had turned twenty eight. There were a handful of random ones too. One was dated the day after his high school graduation. Another the day after Jagged Ivory won their Grammy. The most recent one was dated the day of his wedding.
Cory was floored. He sat staring at the pile of his envelopes in total shock. His father. All of his life, he believed that his father simply hadn't cared. That he just couldn't be bothered to give a crap about his mom or the three kids he saddled her with when he cut and run when Cory was a baby. But he had cared. Cory didn't know what his story was or why the man had chosen to stay away. He was sure he had his reasons. But even without opening them, these letters told him that Charles Dutton did care. He had kept tabs on his kids over the years. And now, the only question in Cory's mind that needed immediate attention was why hadn't he and his sisters known about it?
“Sweetheart, did you have trouble with the hedge trimmers?” Ellen's face froze at the sight of Cory on the ground surrounded by all the letters and cards. And Cory could easily see the fear in her eyes.
“Why?” he asked as he looked up at her.
“Cory, honey … you don't understand.
“You're right! I don't understand,” he replied. “So explain it to me, Mom. Why have you never shown these to me?”
“Cory, I don't know where this sudden curiosity in your father has come from, but …”
“Sudden?” Cory said loudly, looking at her in shock. “You think this is sudden? Mom … just because I have never wanted to upset you by asking a lot of questions, does not mean that I haven't spent a considerable amount of my time wondering about the man! Believe me, I have! You have no idea how deep my curiosity goes.”
“Cory …”
“There are envelopes here that date back to my first birthday, Mom! The last one came the day of my wedding,” he yelled. “He's been watching me! Keeping track of me my whole life! I had a right to know that!”
Ellen said nothing as she watched him in tears. But Cory didn't let her tears stop him.
“And I haven't gone through Cat and Cary's piles yet, but I'm betting it's more of the same. He kept tabs on us. He cared about us!”
“I told you that he loved you,” Ellen yelled at him. “Of course he cared! Of course he keeps tabs on you. Just because he couldn't be a constant presence in your life doesn't mean he didn't wa
nt to watch you grow up, Cory.”
Cory ran his hands through his spiked hair in confusion. “None of this makes any sense! You say that he loves us and that he did the best he could. Hell, you even told me that you still love him. And you have a pile of letters from him yourself. But yet you've kept these letters from us all our lives! Why, Mom?”
Ellen hesitated for a moment. “Because he asked me to,” she said quietly. And Cory looked at her in bewildered silence, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.
“What?”
Ellen moved slowly as she bent down and sat across from her son. “Cory … Charlie didn't simply walk out one night under the pretense of going to the store.” She laughed slightly as she said, “I'm not exactly sure how that story got started. But at the time, I was much too heartbroken to care about setting the record straight.”
“I don't understand,” he said softly.
“Charlie and I talked about it before he left. We agreed that it was the right thing … for all of us.”
Cory shook his head once more. “Why? I don't understand,” he repeated.
“Sweetie, your father had a serious problem. I told you that he wasn't a very good provider. But, what I didn't say … what I never wanted to tell you or your sisters, is that your dad was a deadbeat. And I hate that word! But it's true. Charlie refused to hold a regular job, he always had some angle he was working or some get-rich-quick scheme. He wouldn't help to pay the bills. And he would compound the issue by gambling away what little money we did have. Everything I brought in from teaching and from waitressing. The little nest egg from my modeling. All of it. It was an addiction. A compulsion. He just … couldn't help himself. Some people drink or do drugs. Your father gambled. A lot! And he got into a lot of trouble because of it. At his worst, there were loan sharks and other unsavory characters coming around and beating him up. Threatening me, threatening you and your sisters. I couldn't take it anymore. I told him that he had to go.”
“Wait a minute, so you … he didn't leave you? You kicked him out?”
“I had to,” she said tearfully. “I loved him so much! But his antics were threatening my babies. I couldn't let anything happen to you! I had to keep all of you safe. I did what I had to do.”
“And these letters?” he asked.
Ellen sat wiping the tears from her pretty face. “He agreed that he should go. And we parted as friends. As two people who love each other, but simply can't be together. When he sent the first letter, he asked me not to respond. But he said that he would continue to write, and that I could either read them or not. But he also said that he wanted to write to his children, and he asked me to keep the letters and put them away somewhere. Decide when you were all old enough if I wanted to give them to you or not.”
“And you decided not?” Cory asked accusingly.
“It's not that simple, honey,” she answered. “At first, I had every intention of giving them to you when I thought you were ready. I swear. But then, over the years it just … didn't seem so important anymore. I'm sorry. I see now that was a real mistake on my part. Please don't be angry with me, honey.”
Cory stared at her in silence for a long time as he thought about her tale. And part of him did want to be angry with her. But his brand new marriage had taught him enough to know that no one really knew exactly what went on inside any given marriage except the two people in it. Everyone else was just on the outside looking in, whether the couple was famous or not. Cory knew that he had no right to judge the decisions his parents had made. The trick was to move on from here.
“I need to go,” he said quietly. “Can I take these with me?”
“Of course. They're yours. I was merely holding them for you.”
Cory took his stack of envelopes in his hand and stood up. Then he reached down and helped Ellen to stand as well. “You know, you should tell Cary and Cat about this. Let them decide if they want their piles.”
Ellen nodded. “Yes. I'll give them each a call as soon as I get cleaned up,” she said softly. “I really am sorry, Cory.”
“It's okay,” he mumbled, feeling tired all of a sudden. “I'm not even sure I'll read them. I guess just the fact that he took the time to send them is what matters.”
“The decision is totally yours, honey. I'm here for you whatever you decide.”
Cory nodded. “I gotta go. I love you,” he said as he kissed her cheek. And Ellen teared up again.
“I love you too, Cory.”
Cory left then, climbing back into his car feeling a myriad of emotions and not knowing which one to grab onto. When he got home and made himself a sandwich, he set his pile of letters on the table in front of him. He stared at the stack as he ate his dinner and wondered at what might be inside them. What did his absentee father have to say for himself? Did he even want to know?
His lifelong curiosity getting the better of him, Cory set his sandwich aside and picked up the first letter. This one was dated when Cory would have been just a few months old. And he reasoned that Charles had written it shortly after he had left. Slowly, Cory turned the envelope over in his hands, feeling the weight of it. It was too thin and light to be a card. It had to be an actual letter. He must have stared at it for an hour if he stared a minute. Should he or shouldn't he? “Fuck it,” he whispered to himself as he ripped open the envelope with slightly trembling hands and an unsettled heart. What would he find? Was this a good idea? He held his breath as he began to read.
Opening letter after letter, card after card, he sat in his kitchen and read them all. Then he reread them all a second time. And a third. The first letter explained his take on the story Ellen had told him in the garage. And he asked Cory not to blame his mother. “I was no good for you or your sisters, and your mama knew that. She did the right thing by asking me to go.” His father's words were straightforward and honest, and Cory couldn't help but wonder what his voice might sound like. He talked about his gambling problem, and his struggle to keep it together after he left. He talked about his life and the places he was living. But mostly, he talked about Cory, and how proud he was of him. He told him that he had been at his high school graduation. And that he owned vinyl, CD, and digital copies of every Jagged Ivory album and single ever released. He said that he had seen them perform live several times, starting back before the band got a record deal. And that he had watched the Grammy Awards show with such pride at Cory's achievements. The last envelope contained a note of congratulations on his wedding day. He said that he wished he could have been in attendance, and that he was very happy for him.
Replacing the last letter to its envelope again, Cory sat staring at the pile once more. The last letter had a return address in Huntington Park, California. He was here, in Los Angeles County. Somewhere.
Chapter Eight
“Well, my personal feeling is that the universe has given you this opportunity for a reason, and that you should take advantage of it. That said, I believe that you should do whatever feels right to you, baby,” Donna said as she looked at him. On her computer screen, he looked so worn out. Anxious and worried. She knew that discovering his father's letters had really thrown him for a loop. “I wish I could be there for you, right now.”
Cory smiled at her. “I wish you were here too. I miss you. And I could really use your level head right about now.”
“Oh, baby,” she said softly. “It's going to be okay. You know, you don't have to do anything. I mean, in any of those letters did he ask you to contact him?”
“No.” Cory shook his head.
“For all you know, he may not want that,” she reasoned.
Cory continued to shake his head slightly as he mulled over her words. “I don't know, babe. I mean … if the man wanted no contact, why did he write at all? Faithfully. For the last twenty-eight years? Every birthday, every major event in my life. It just doesn't make sense.”
“Maybe he just wanted you to know that he loved you,” she answered quietly. “Maybe he knew that you were g
oing to feel abandoned by him, and he didn't want you to feel that way.”
Cory studied her eyes on his computer screen. Donna knew that he struggled with those abandonment issues because of his father's absence. Perhaps she was correct. Maybe Charles Dutton did simply want to absolve his son of those feelings. Or maybe he wanted to absolve himself of the guilt and the shame. According to his letters, he felt a whole lot of both.
“I don't know,” Cory sighed once more. “I don't know what I'm going to do.”
Donna sat watching him for a moment and then she smiled to herself. She knew her husband well. “Yes, you do,” she said softly. “Just do me a favor, okay?”
“What's that?”
“Take someone with when you go.”
Cory smirked at her. “Baby, if I do this … I think talking to him is something I would need to do alone.”
“I know that, Cory. But I'm talking about moral support,” she replied. “They can sit in the car or stand outside the house. Whatever. Just take one of your brothers with you, okay?”
He cocked his head as he gave her an amused frown. “My brothers? You usually hate it when I refer to the guys as my brothers,” he smiled. “Why not take my mom or my sisters?”
“I don't hate it. I just like to give you a hard time about it,” she smiled. “Besides, your mom and your sisters are much too close to the situation. I think taking them would get overwhelming, both for you and your dad, because they wouldn't want to stay in the background and let you do what you need to do. But your bandmates are the only people I know who love you as fiercely as I do, and they'll respect your privacy but still be on hand if you need them. Just take one of them with you, okay? Just for my peace of mind.”
Cory smiled at her. “I love you, baby. Thanks for listening to me rant. And I promise to take one of the guys with me, okay?”
“Okay. And I love you too, you know,” she smiled at him. “But I've got to go get some sleep now or I won't be any good on the set tomorrow.”
The Essential Jagged Ivory (Jagged Ivory Boxed Set) Page 29
