by Lena Skye
Something that could get their company back and keep it in the family. Perhaps a second codicil that out dated the first and thus rendered it null and void. Perhaps this one would state that in the absence of any children, Hargrove Brothers would pass to Neal and his children. He had gotten so used to receiving lifelines from his brother, that a part of him still expected that, even in George’s absence. He was so involved in his aimless hunt, that he didn’t notice Elena behind him.
“Neal?” she said gently, “what are you looking for?”
“I… I don’t know,” he replied honestly, pulling at the contents of another drawer.
Elena said something in response, but he didn’t hear it. His eyes fell on a yellowing letter that held his father’s neat scrawl. George’s letter. The one he had never been permitted to see. Neal took it out gingerly and shook the dust from the page. He wondered for a moment if he should read it or not. George had never allowed him to, but Neal’s desperation outweighed his conscience at that moment, and he sank onto the bed with the letter in hand.
To my son, George,
I want you to know that some of the best days of my life, were the ones you spent with me as a teenager, following me around the office, hanging on my every word and trying to absorb as much information as you could. You were always a hard worker, and a determined one. I knew from the beginning that I would never have to worry about you. You are a survivor.
Which is why I feel like I can confide in you. George – I’m worried about your brother. Neal was always a sensitive boy. He has become a sensitive man. So much so, that he shies away from life because he’s afraid to live it. His mother’s death was too much for him to bear at such a young age, and he was so very close to her. It was like they had their own language sometimes.
Even I was jealous of their connection at times, but I suppose it was fair. They had their own world together, and we had ours.
When he lost her, he changed, and fool that I was, I assumed it would correct itself as he got older. Neal’s life; it's empty, George, and he needs to know that living is more than just parties and girlfriends. It’s purpose and direction and family. It’s earning something worthwhile. It’s having something important at the end of the day that is completely your own.
I wanted to teach him so many things George, and I thought I had all the time in the world to do it. I’m writing this letter to you, because I need to ask you something. I need to ask you to look after your brother, to help him find his purpose in life. To help him find something worthwhile to hold on to, so that he stops being so very lonely. I might have told him all this myself, but there’s always been distance between him and I, and I have no one to blame for that but myself, and I have to admit – I’m scared.
I know this is the end for me, and I expected some burst of courage that would help me complete all my unfinished business, but I guess that’s just a myth they tell you, to hold regret at bay a little while longer.
You are twice the man that I am George. I know how much you’re capable of. I know how much you can accomplish. I trust you – not just with my business, but with Neal too. He’s a lost soul, George and he needs your help. I know how unfair it is of me, to leave you with so many responsibilities, at so young an age, and to leave you to finish the things that I should have done myself, but you were always the better man, and I know you will do a better job of everything than I ever could have done. I want you to know how proud I am of you. You are the man I always wished I could be.
I love you son,
Your Father
Neal stared at the letter. When his mind had stopped racing, he started reading it again, and when he was finished, he read it a third time. Elena just watched him, aware that his face was displaying an array of competing emotions. She understood that the letter he was reading was bringing on more emotions than he cared to feel. She walked over to him, and sat down on the bed next to him. He didn’t seem to notice that she was even in the room.
“Neal?” Elena asked uncertainly, “is everything OK?”
He stammered incomprehensibly for a moment and then he took a deep breath and collected himself.
“I found the letter my dad left to my brother before he died,” he explained shakily.
Then he passed it to her.
“Are you sure?” Elena asked, taking the letter gingerly.
He nodded and Elena read through it carefully. When she had finished she looked up and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You were right,” Neal said quietly, “my father thought the same thing. Apparently, I’m too scared to live my life, and he was too much of a coward to tell me.”
“He was just scared, Neal.”
“He was my father,” Neal said harshly. “I should have been important enough to him to try. At least to try.”
“I know,” Elena agreed immediately, “I agree. He should have tried to talk to you. He should have attempted to close the distance between the two of you, but… parents, they’re human too. They’re flawed. They make mistakes. At least your father realized he had made them in the first place.”
“He realized,” Neal qualified, “but he made no move to correct them.”
“He trusted your brother to."
“He passed the buck.”
Elena was about to say something else, but she stopped herself. Neal was hurt, the wound was fresh and nothing she could say would make it less painful. She let him be angry, knowing that she would have wanted the same.
Neal stared down at the letter Elena had passed back to him. A part of him was angry for the reasons he had just told Elena, but a larger part of him was angry for a whole other reason. The letter was a testament to George’s relationship with their father. It was apparent how very close they had been.
Neal had always known that they had shared a bond that he had never had with his father, but seeing it on paper was different from suspecting it in your heart. Certain phrases stuck out to him – words that were meant only for George to hear.
‘You are twice the man that I am.’ ‘You are the man I always wished I could be.’ ‘I want you to know how proud I am of you.’ They were words that Neal would have loved to hear. They were words that would have meant the world to him. He knew he was undeserving of them, but he still wished.
He felt a sudden irrational anger towards George. It was saturated with jealousy, and all at once, it dissolved into shame. His brother had always been there for him. He had always been patient and tolerant and more than generous. He had asked for nothing in return, and suddenly, Neal realized that George was dead. It hit him like a punch in the gut. He had watched the news, heard it from several different sources, he had discussed it with Harry and accepted condolences from sympathetic strangers, but he had never let it sink in. He had never really thought about the crash. He had listened, without feeling.
Now he found himself longing for his brother. He wanted to talk to him, to hug him, to watch as George rolled his eyes at something ridiculous that he had said. He was lost without George, and he realized suddenly why he had felt so off balance this whole time. He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt Elena’s hands circle him gently.
Neal felt her kiss his hair, stroke his back, and those gestures – so foreign to him, made him cry even harder. He sat there on his brother’s bed and sobbed out his sorrow, while Elena held him hard, rocking him back and forth until he had spent all his tears. When he was done, he felt hollow, but strangely lighter. Elena stood and turned to face him. He looked up at her, wanting to reach out and draw her to him again.
She held out her hand to him.
“Let’s go home,” she said.
Those words, more than anything else, made him breathe a little easier.
Chapter9
It was a strange few weeks. Neal and Elena found themselves walking around in what seemed like an alternate reality. Slowly, as they got to know one another, they grew more comfortable around each other. They teased and laughed together,
they played pool and board games. They watched movies that they hated and threw popcorn at the television, and slowly, the trivial morphed into the personal. They began sharing details of their childhoods, until suddenly the things they had thought they could never admit to themselves, let alone say aloud, was easy to do.
In their incessant talking, the things that had come to bother them greatly, seemed lighter somehow, as though the act of sharing had somehow made their little parcels of pain inconsequential in the greater scheme of things. They became friends, they asked each other’s advice, and they gave each other brutally honest opinions. They cemented a relationship that some people might have taken years to cultivate, and both Neal and Elena started looking forward to each new day.
The surrealistic nature of their relationship was brought on by their frequent and increasingly passionate coupling. They had sex at least three times a day, and instead of becoming a chore, it became something else entirely. For Neal, it was the first time he had ever grown so familiar with a woman. His trysts never lasted long and so he assumed he was skipping out on the boring, mechanical phase of a sexual relationship, but he realized that familiarity could be a potent stimulant.
He knew all the curves and edges of Elena’s body. He found himself secure enough with her to become more experimental, because he couldn’t stomach the thought of her being bored with him in bed. He told himself it was simply a business deal, but he could not help feeling a huge sense of triumph every time she shuddered beneath him in climax.
For Elena, their lovemaking was different shades of passion. Sometimes it was rough and sweaty and other times it was slow and gentle. She had never been with a man who was so unselfish in bed. Neal was considerate and attentive; he anticipated what she wanted without her having to tell him.
Her pleasure seemed as important to him as her own. She found herself looking at him differently. Not just as an unexpected friend, but as a true lover. She knew it was dangerous to look at him and admire his fine features, his prominent bone structure, his lean, muscular body. She knew those thoughts could lead nowhere, but still, she couldn’t help herself.
There were times, after they had made love that she would lie in his arms, and secretly wish that she wouldn’t get pregnant too soon. She knew that the moment she got pregnant, their days of long conversations and repeated lovemaking would be at an end. She felt a pinch of sadness at the inevitability of that day.
They built a bubble for themselves that was cut off from everything else. They took sporadic breaks, Neal to visit Hargrove Brothers, and Elena to visit the tiny studio she rented to work on her statues. For a couple of hours, they would re-join the real world and then come back to the comfort of their self-made bubble. Both of them realized how much they missed it when they were away for more than a half a day. After the first week, Neal brought home four packs of pregnancy tests.
Each night, they would go to the bathroom and Neal would wait patiently until Elena had peed on a stick. The days went by, and each test came out negative. Neal felt a prick of panic, and Elena felt a wave of relief. Neither one shared how they felt with the other.
Then one day, a different mark appeared on the pregnancy test. Elena looked at it in shock, realizing that the sign was a tiny pink positive. She rushed outside, and ran straight into Neal, nearly dropping the test.
“It’s positive,” she said breathlessly, and in complete shock.
She saw her own expression mirrored in Neal’s face. He stared down at her face and then at the test she was holding up.
“Oh my God!” he exclaimed.
“I know!” Elena said.
“This is really happening!” Neal breathed out as the reality hit him squarely.
Elena nodded, the smile fading slowly from her face. She walked to the sofa and sank down onto it, still holding the stick. Neal noticed the change. He saw her face and felt his own smile drain away. He walked to the couch and sat opposite her on the coffee table. He placed his hands on her knees.
“I know this is a lot,” he said softly.
“It’s… it’s just hitting me,” Elena admitted.
Neal nodded. “Me too… I… it’s different now that it’s…"
“Real?” Elena offered.
Neal nodded again.
The two of them looked back on their last few weeks together and both had the same dim enlightenment that came with the sobering news that the first step of their plan was underway. It was the knowledge that somehow, they had both been uncertain that this plan would work. In the back of their minds, Elena, and even Neal, had not thought it would go this far. They started on this path, because they were both desperate, and somewhere along the way, their reasons had mingled in with their sudden connection to one another. They had pushed the end goal far from their minds, so that now, faced with the little pink positive, Neal and Elena found themselves on the edge of a large cliff, and the fall was likely to leave permanent damage.
“Oh God,” Elena breathed, her tone laced with anxiety, “I’m pregnant.”
Neal fastened his hands around her arms, rubbing slowly and adopting what he hoped was a calm, soothing tone.
“It’s going to be alright,” he said unconvincingly, “we’re going to get through this.”
“How?” Elena asked looking up in trepidation.
“Because… because I will be here every step of the way.”
Elena smiled, but her eyes were weary and her smile was sad. Neal recognized that, and knew internally, that she had every right to be.
Chapter10
Elena turned the key in the latch and pushed the door open. The space was tiny, but it had worked well for her in the last year. She rented it out for a reasonable fee and used it to exercise her artistic frustration. That was what her art always felt like lately – frustration. She had no ongoing jobs. There were a bunch of supplies pushed toward one corner of the room, and a large oddly shaped form that had been draped over with an old shirt.
Elena had started work on a statue for a particularly fussy client, and mid-way through, that client had called in and canceled the order, leaving Elena in the lurch. She had wanted to kick herself for not insisting on an advance before she had begun work, but the client, a Mrs. Ludington, had convinced her that her word was good. That had been almost seven months ago, and the memory still rankled. Elena walked over to the half-finished statue and pulled off the white sheet.
The statue was a beautiful mold of a young girl reading a book. Unlike some of her other pieces, this one was near perfect, such as it was, in its half-complete state. Elena got the girl’s features perfectly, she almost looked real. Even the pages of her book were carved so intricately that they had the feel of authenticity.
Elena sat down on a crate that was pushed to the corner, and stared at her statue. It was a good one and it would have been great had it not been for the unreliable Mrs. Ludington. She had made so many stupid mistakes, mostly because she was so scared to lose a client, that she gave in to whatever they asked for. Elena sighed. In seconds, her life had changed completely. She had just come from the doctor's office.
He had confirmed her pregnancy. She recalled the look on Neal’s face – half relieved and half scared. She understood what he was feeling, his goal to keep the family business was a little more attainable at this point, but she couldn’t help feeling alone in the matter.
Neal would save his business, raise his child, and get on with his life. Elena was not so sure what she had planned for her own life. It suddenly struck her that when this was all over, she would have financial independence, something she had craved since she was a teenager, but what was most startling was the fact that the thought gave her no satisfaction whatsoever.
She felt hollow inside, the money was necessary to survive, but it did not make a happy person. Elena started to wonder if she had wanted the wrong things her whole life, but her thoughts couldn’t focus, they darted around, in search of clarity and direction, but her mind was preoccupied with
images of babies and swollen limbs and morning sickness.
She tried to ignore the soft little voice in the back of her mind that told her there was nothing to look forward to at the end of all this, because she would not get to keep the baby.
Elena rested her tired head on her palms. Now that she was well and truly in it, she questioned every single reasoning process that had led her to accept Neal. She enjoyed the last few weeks, there was no denying that. She found herself intoxicated by Neal, charmed by his easy charisma and his slow smile. She developed feelings that she should have stamped out the moment they flitted to her consciousness, but she realized that no amount of money and security could remove these memories from her life.
