“Oh my son, my darling,” she cried, throwing her arms around him. “Whatever happened to you? We thought you were dead.”
After Joan stopped hugging him, Declan sat her down and told her as much as he could remember.
“I should have alerted Elizabeth as soon as I saw Natasha at the school,” said Joan. She’d suffered agonies of guilt and had apologized repeatedly to Elizabeth.
“You weren’t to know,” said Declan. “Nobody knew just how evil she could be.”
“And she had you convinced you were a murderer?” said Joan in disbelief.
“I was a blank canvas,” said Declan. "She could paint anything she wanted. If she had told me I was an organ grinder’s monkey I would have believed her.”
Joan shook her head. It was such an amazing story.
After Declan left, Joan dried her eyes. Her heart soared. Her son was alive. She couldn’t wait to tell Byron the extraordinary news. After he’d assisted her by calling the police commissioner, Joan thanked him but said she felt it would be better if they didn’t see each other for a while. These were tumultuous times and she didn’t feel she could offer him anything. In truth, she was ashamed that she’d given up so easily, assuming his interest lay with Elizabeth and not her. Byron said he understood. Joan was free to contact him at any time.
Hesitantly, Joan pressed Byron’s number. Ten minutes later he was at her door. A magnetic force as powerful as gravity crushed her into his arms. There was no need for words. Lips met lips. Tongue met tongue in a fierce and forceful longing. Byron pushed Joan backwards into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind him while remaining glued to her body. Joan’s nerve endings were on fire. She pulled his jacket off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Byron simply ripped the shirt open, sending buttons pinging across the hardwood. He lifted her sweater up over her head and flung it to one side. His mouth descended on her breasts like a starving man who’d just been offered the most sumptuous meal in the world.
Byron pressed Joan back against the wall, his fingers finding their way beneath her bra. In a flash he’d lifted the lingerie over her head so her breasts were free. He sucked her nipples until she was gasping. His fingers made their way up her skirt.
“Make love to me Byron,” she panted.
“Just try to stop me,” he growled. “I’ve wanted to do this from the first time I saw you.”
Joan’s skirt was now around her waist.
“Wrap your legs around me,” commanded Byron. He’d freed himself from his jeans. Joan felt his thickness, felt his hardness against her, felt him pushing his way inside her.
“What is it you want me to do to you?” panted Byron. He licked his way up her neck. Joan moaned and arched into him.
“Say it,” said Byron.
“Oh God,” said Joan.
“Say the words,” said Byron. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Make love,” whispered Joan.
Byron pulled out of her with a speed that made her gasp.
“Say it. Say it harder. Say what you want?”
“F..”
Byron pushed the tip of himself into her wet opening, teasing her. Joan bit the back of her hand.
“Yes Joan. Say it.”
“Fuck me,” said Joan.
Byron thrust into her with a naked urgency.
“Louder, harder. More.”
“Fuck me.” Joan yelled the words. Just saying them aloud sent her into a primordial frenzy of excitement. She could hardly believe they had come from her mouth.
“Yes,” said Byron. “That’s it. That’s what you want Joan. You want me to fuck you and by God I’m going to.”
“Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me,” she cried.
And so he did.
Three days later, an envelope arrived for Joan from Diagnostic Labs. She ripped it open, unsure how she would react to the results. They were as she suspected. She now had some powerful information. She would take her time, thinking carefully what to do with it.
Hearing Declan open the front door, and the sound of Jack and Camille running down the hallway, Joan slipped the envelope into a kitchen drawer. She would deal with it later.
“Hello my angels,” Joan cried, hugging her grandchildren. Aside from a couple of nightmares, neither child had seemed particularly damaged by their ordeal with Natasha.
“What shall we do today?” she asked.
Declan grinned at Joan.
“They heard there’s a huge dinosaur at the museum.”
“Can we go see the dinosaur?” asked Camille looking at Joan.
“Yeah, a saususauruss,” said Jack. “Can we Granma?”
“I don’t see why not,” said Joan, delighting in their smiling hopeful faces. “I’ll just get my coat.”
“Okay, I’ll be off,” said Declan kissing his mother on the cheek.
“One thing Declan,” said Joan.
“Sure. What is it?”
“I’d like my front door key back if you don’t mind.”
“How come?” he asked slipping it off his key ring.
“Oh, just a privacy thing,” said Joan. She was thinking of Byron. Now she had a reason to be private.
Declan dropped the key and a bag on her table.
“There’s a change of clothes, just in case. And teddy and bunny,” he added. Declan kneeled down to give each of the children a kiss.
“Be good for Grandma.” He looked mock seriously at Camille. “Are you going to take bunny to the museum?” he asked.
“No,” she cried. “The dinosaur might eat him.”
“And we wouldn’t want that,” said Declan.
The floppy-eared pink and white rabbit that Elizabeth had repaired had been Camille’s favourite toy since she was a baby. Jack was less attached to a small white bear, although he still liked to cuddle it at night.
“Alright. I’ll see you at five,” said Declan. “Have fun you guys.”
Joan had agreed to take Jack and Camille every Wednesday afternoon. Declan was converting the coach house behind Palmerston into a recording studio while Elizabeth was busy with Rags ‘n’ Beats. Joan was happy to help out. She enjoyed the time she spent with her grandchildren but was equally happy when they returned to their parents. Small children could be exhausting.
“C’mon kids,” she said. “I’m just going to drop my car off at the garage then we’ll hop a street car to the ROM.”
The Royal Ontario Museum was a stately old building on Avenue Road with a brand new addition that abutted onto Bloor Street. In contrast to the dignified architecture of the original building, the addition was all sharp edges and glass. Torontonians had been divided in opinion about whether the design by Daniel Liebeskind worked. Joan loved it. It reminded her of a geode, smooth round stones that cracked open to reveal sparkling pointed crystals.
She and the children entered from Bloor Street, confronted by the massive bones of a thirty-metre high dinosaur towering over the rotunda.
“Wow,” said Jack staring up at it in awe.
“Wow,” repeated Camille. “Grandma, when I get old will I be a dinosaur?”
“Some people might call you that,” laughed Joan.
After two hours of wandering, Joan’s feet were aching and she was happy to get back home. The children played happily enough in her living room, content to watch a DVD. Finally, at five o clock, she instructed them to put all their toys back into a special box and got the children ready for Declan.
As soon as her family departed, Joan made herself a cup of tea and sank into her couch, grateful for the peaceful silence that descended. Byron was coming over later with Indian takeout. They’d planned to stay in and watch a movie. She would take a shower to revive and get ready for him. Their lovemaking had been spectacular. Joan felt reborn. She felt like a woman again. But, she wondered, what was she going to do about the contents of the envelope lying in her kitchen drawer.
CHAPTER SIXTY
; It had been Effie’s suggestion that Declan consider producing a line of his own clothing to be featured in Rags ‘n’ Beats. Plus, Effie said winking at Elizabeth, they could tell Declan Thomas’s survival story. Until now, Declan had kept it pretty much to himself. He hadn’t even told Elizabeth all the details, partly because he was unsure what was real or what was imagined.
The more time that passed, the more Declan was convinced he’d been hallucinating. There had been no pretty girl with strawberry coloured hair. There had been no wild-eyed, crazy mother or taciturn father who’d looked after him on Handa. They’d all been the product of shock and imagination.
"What did you have in mind in the way of a clothing line?” Declan asked Effie. They were enjoying a bottle of wine at the end of a hectic day while Elizabeth got the twins ready for bed.
“Hmmn,” said Effie swirling the burgundy liquid around her glass. “How about something like ‘castaway’ chic. Raggedy pants and torn shirts?”
Declan laughed. “As if Eff. Somehow I don’t think it’d fly.”
“Believe me honey, if you wore it, if you endorsed it, kids would be mad for it,” said Effie.
“I’ve got plenty to deal with right now Effie. I don’t think I need to add anything else.”
“Well think about it,” said Effie. “I know a certain magazine that would put you on the cover.”
A caterwauling shriek came from the bathroom followed by loud wailing.
“Declan,” called Elizabeth. “Have you seen bunny? Cam’s freaking out.”
“See?” said Declan to Effie. “I’m too busy hunting bunnies to start a clothing line.”
Declan and Elizabeth looked everywhere but bunny was definitely missing.
“A dinosaur ate my bunny,” sobbed Camille.
Frazzled, Elizabeth looked at Declan.
“It’s gotta be at your mother’s.”
“I’ll call,” he said, taking a phone from his pocket. He let it ring for a while. "Mom must be out. I’ll pop over and take a look.”He kissed Camille on the forehead.
“Don’t worry. We must’ve left bunny at Grandma’s. Daddy’s going to go fetch her for you.”
Camille’s sobbing subsided into small hiccups.
“Thank you daddy.”
***
Joan and Byron managed to make it halfway through the movie.
“C’mon, lets go to bed,” Joan whispered. Byron didn’t need much persuading.
“When a beautiful woman comes on to me, I never turn her down,” said Byron.
“Is that so?” said Joan. “Then I must keep you away from beautiful women.”
Byron traced her lips with his finger. His eyes smoldered. “Except for you,” he said. “I never want to be kept away from you.”
Joan took his hand and led him upstairs to her bed with its crisp white sheets. She had something to tell him but it could wait.
***
Declan pulled up outside his mother’s house. Her car wasn’t in the carport and the house was dark. Damn. Why had he given her back her front door key? It was a bit of a mystery why she wanted it. Now he was going to have to break in.
The back of the house had a window that led to a basement bedroom that had once been his. Declan was pretty sure he’d be able to pry off the screen, slide it open and get in.
***
Joan delighted in the feeling of Byron pushing his way inside her. She loved the warm feel of his skin, the gentle softness of his belly, and the hardness everywhere else. He’s spent some time licking her. He instructed her to tell him whether he was to go faster or slower. He obliged with skill.
An orgasm is like an exclamation mark at the end of a perfectly worded sentence, Joan thought.. She felt herself tipping, falling off the building, skydiving out of a plane. Here it comes. Here it comes, she thought. A giant wave of pleasure suffused her. “Byron,” she cried. “Oh Byron!”
Byron enfolded Joan in his arms. He was stroking her hair when he suddenly tensed.
“Did you hear that?” he asked.
“What?” she murmured. “The only sound she was aware of was the pumping of her heart.
“There it is again,” he said.
Joan listened intently. A squeaking sound followed by a thump seemed to be coming from the bottom of the house.
“It sounds like someone’s breaking in,” said Joan alarmed.
Byron threw on a pair of boxers and looked around the room for a weapon.
“Over there,” whispered Joan pointing to a baseball bat, “I keep it up here just in case.”
Declan finally pried the rusty basement window open and wriggled his way through, landing ungracefully on the floor of his old bedroom. He got up and made his way upstairs to the children’s toy box. Surely bunny would be there.
Illumination leaked in from an outside street lamp so Declan didn’t need to turn on the light. He didn’t want to alarm the neighbours in case Joan had told them she’d be out. Break-ins were frequent in the area and Declan knew that all the people on the street kept a watchful eye out for each other. He began rooting through the toy box, praying to God that bunny would be there.
Byron tiptoed down the stairs from Joan’s bedroom hoping none of them creaked. An element of surprise was essential. He had his bat at the ready. Yes, there was an intruder in the living room, a shadowy figure bent over a box.
Byron took the last few steps in a single bound, gave a mighty roar and charged. Declan spun around. My God, a semi-naked man was coming after him with a bat. What the hell? Declan did a quick shoulder roll and kicked with all his might, sending the man crashing backwards into a bookcase.
“What are you, fucking crazy?” yelled Declan.
Byron struggled to his feet and raised the bat again, warily circling his prey.
“What do you want? Why are you here?” gasped Byron.
“I could ask you the same thing you crazy fuck.”
The living room light switched on. Joan stood on the stair tying a robe around her.
“Declan!” she exclaimed. “It’s you.”
Byron froze, the bat raised above his head ready to deliver a blow.
“Declan?” he said. He looked at Joan in confusion. “Your son?”
Declan was furious.
“You fucking scared the shit out of me man,” he said glaring at Byron.
“Yeah, well you fucking scared the shit out of us,” said Byron. “What are you doing breaking into your mother’s house? Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
The word ‘us’ didn’t go unnoticed by Declan.
“And haven’t you ever heard of minding your own fucking business?” said Declan. Declan turned angrily to Joan. “Who the fuck is this guy Mom?”
“Steady on son, let’s all calm down,” said Byron putting down the baseball bat. Joan came down the stairs and slipped her arm around Byron’s waist. The gesture took Declan aback.
“I am not your son,” said Declan in a clipped,angry tone. He grabbed bunny from the toy box, relieved to find it, and tucked it under his arm. He took several deep breaths.
“Actually, you are,” said Joan.
Declan and Byron were so busy glaring at each other that her words floated in the air unheard. Joan decided to repeat herself.
“Declan, you are Byron’s son.”
Both men stared at her as if she’d sprouted an extra head.
Joan sighed. “I was waiting for the right time to tell you both. I guess this is it.”
“What the fuck?” said Byron and Declan in unison.
“This is a joke right?” said Declan.
“Somehow your mother doesn’t strike me as the type to make a joke like this,” said Byron.
“Holy fuck,” said Declan.
“Holy fuck is right.”
Joan led the two men into the kitchen and retrieved the lab results from her kitchen drawer. Byron and Declan read the document while Joan set about making coffee.
“I think I’m going to need something a little
stronger,” said Declan.
"Me too," said Byron.
Joan frowned. "But...but..."
"But nothing. I'll go back to a meeting tomorrow. If a man can't have a drink when he discovers he's not only got a son, but two grandchildren with the woman he loves, what the hell."
Joan's hands shook as she poured a shot of whiskey into her coffee and handed Declan and Byron each a glass. Byron just said he loved her. She'd begun to feel she was falling in love as well. Byron downed his shot in one gulp and immediately reached for the bottle to pour another. The two men had so many questions. They kept stealing furtive glances at each other.
Declan’s cell phone rang. It was Elizabeth.
“Hey Declan, don’t worry about bunny. Cam’s fallen asleep without it. Was it at your Mom’s?”
“Yeah, it’s here.”
“Are you okay?” asked Elizabeth. “You sound a bit weird.”
“Tell you about it later.”
Sipping her laced coffee, Joan told Declan and Byron that her suspicions had been aroused when Byron mentioned playing at the El Mocambo.
“You play?” asked Declan.
Byron nodded.
“Past tense. Did.”
Joan told the men she’d remembered going to the club one night in the ‘80s with her twin sister Jean. Jean had been in a manic phase, dancing like a lunatic right in front of the stage. Joan had tried to calm her down but Jean wouldn’t hear of it. She’d been determined to cop off with someone in the band. At the end of the night, Joan remembered seeing Jean leave with the bass player, a good-looking young fellow in a leather jacket.
Byron looked at Joan aghast.
“Your twin? I remember her. We were together just that night. The band left the next day for Montreal.”
Dragonfly of Venus Page 25
