Chapter Seven
“Bryce? I have something to tell you.” My fingers drummed on the desk. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I didn’t want to have this conversation right after my father’s death.
“About your father?”
“My father passed away earlier today.”
He sucked in his breath.
“Oh my God, Veronica! Why didn’t you call me? I can be on the next plane to New York. I’m so sorry.”
“No, Bryce, I don’t need…I don’t need you to come.”
“Why not? Of course, I’ll be there.”
“No, Bryce. I want to end this.”
“End what?”
“Our engagement. It’s off.” I clutched Ash’s handkerchief in my hand.
“Why, Veronica? You don’t mean that. You’re just upset over your father. I love you. I’ll be there on the next flight out. Just let me call the company jet.”
“NO! It’s over, Bryce, I’m sorry. Ash and I are back together. This is what I want. I’m so sorry.”
“Veronica! This is nonsense. Let me come be with you. I don’t care what you’ve done with Ash Blackthorne. Let me be there.”
“No. Bryce, it’s over. I’ll call you in a few days.” With that, I hung up on him. Falling back on my bed, I felt my world collapsing. My phone kept vibrating, but I just ignored it. I knew Bryce deserved a better explanation than that.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at my door.
“Ronnie? It’s me.” Ash opened the door. He was dressed casually in black pants and a grey pullover.
“Come in, Ash.” I swung the door open.
“Ronnie, how are you?” He pulled me into a tight embrace. I stood in stony silence not feeling anything.
“I can’t believe he’s gone, Ash. There’s just so much happening right now. I just can’t think straight.” I pulled away to grab a tissue from the box.
Ash rubbed my back gently.
“It’s okay, Ronnie. I know how much it hurts to lose your father.” He sighed running his hands over his thick hair.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t with you when you lost your father. He was a kind man.”
Ash smiled weakly. The pain in his eyes was reflected in my own with the shared experience of losing our fathers.
“When my father told me he had cancer, I refused to believe it. He was such a strong man, powerful in business and in life. He had a younger girlfriend and they were traveling the world in his new yacht. He had just finished making a huge acquisition overseas. I had noticed he’d been a bit rundown, so I asked him to go to the doctor. Of course, as always, he blew me off.”
I smiled recalling how stubborn Ash’s father had been.
“One day in his office during a very important meeting, he collapsed. He was rushed to the hospital where they diagnosed him with stage four pancreatic cancer. He was given less than six weeks to live. It was his girlfriend, Fiona, who told me about it. I was doing business in LA at the time, but I flew home immediately.”
I gasped, biting my lip. What a shock that must’ve been for Ash. I wished I would’ve been there for him.
“When I got back to New York, he was already discharged from the hospital. They recommended hospice care, but he refused any further treatment. He had been born at his family’s estate in upstate New York and he’d die there is what he told me.”
Ash stood up walking over to the fire. He stoked the fire as he spoke.
“Ronnie, the doctors told me he’d be gone in six weeks. My father was so stubborn and strong he lasted nearly three months.”
“Wow.” I walked over to stroke Ash’s back.
He turned to me with tears in his eyes.
“I used to tell him he was so stubborn that heaven wouldn’t take him and hell wouldn’t have him.” Ash laughed at the memory.
“Just like you,” I whispered.
Ash ignored my comment.
“I stayed by his side the entire three months. I moved back into our family home with him. We spent the days playing tennis, fishing, or hiking whenever he felt up to it. Those last days were magical. I’d been so angry with my father when I was younger. At times, I blamed him for my mother leaving then for my stepmother leaving with my baby sister. Like your father, he seemed to want to make me into something I wasn’t. After college, I wanted to go into the Navy. I wanted to serve my country. I didn’t want to be just another stuck-up Ivy League graduate from the Upper East Side. My father wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted I go into business with him. We had a huge blow-out on the night of my college graduation. I told him I’d already enlisted in the Navy.”
I nodded. I knew he had done a tour of duty as a naval officer prior to entering graduate school.
“I take it he was upset by that?”
Ash nodded, his eyes crinkled with laughter.
“He never understood my need to do that, but in time he grew to respect me for it. When I was finished with my tour, I came back and interned for his business for the summer before going to Harvard Business School.”
“I remember how proud he was when you graduated.” I recalled the day we both graduated and our fathers both stood in the audience beaming with pride.
“Yes, he was,” he sighed deeply. “I want you to know, Ronnie, how much I understand what you’re going through. The pain never goes away, but time makes it easier to deal with.”
Then Ash pulled something from his pants pocket. It was a small gold lapel pin with several small diamonds in it. I’d seen him wear it countless times.
“Ronnie, this was my father’s. This was the logo of the first company he started when he was only twenty-four years old. My grandfather had it made for him. He wore it until the day he died. It wasn’t the most expensive lapel pin he had, but it meant everything to him. On the morning he passed he called me in to speak with him. His voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. He motioned for me to remove the pin from his shirt. I took it off and handed it to him. His old, gnarled hand pressed it into mine.” Ash trailed off holding the pin. He ran his fingers over it lovingly his eyes shining with tears.
“He said, ‘Ash, always remember where you came from because your first success is always your sweetest.’ So, I carried this pin with me everywhere to remind me of him.”
Ash fastened the pin to his shirt.
“And he was right.”
Tears coursed down my cheeks. My heart bled for his loss as well as my own. Ash had an advantage over me in that his father truly loved him. I doubted mine ever really had. I knew before we could go any further I needed to tell Ash about my own sad, traumatic past. It was bound to come up in the days that followed when my father’s sister, Shannon arrived for the funeral.
“Ash, before we go any further there’s something I need to tell you. I know I should’ve told you this years ago.”
Ash looked up at me puzzled. He was lying back on the bed with his hands behind his head.
“What, Ronnie?”
I stood up and walked over to the bar. I poured two glasses of scotch.
“Take this, you’ll need it.”
He rolled out of bed and walked over to the chair next to me. The fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace as night had fallen outside.
“Ronnie, you can tell me anything.” He placed his hand on mine.
I nodded finishing my liquor in one swallow.
“You know that I was raised by my father. My mother died of breast cancer when I was six years old. I was left all alone with my father in that huge Manhattan penthouse. He raised me to be a devout Catholic like his parents before him. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but my father’s family is from Ireland. They immigrated here when he was only four.”
He pursed his lips as he considered what I’d just said.
“Ronald doesn’t seem to be an Irish name to me. I know you once said your father’s family was from Ireland I just didn’t know he wasn’t born in the US.”
“His real name was Malachy James. My gran
dparents changed his name to Ronald when they arrived in America fearing that he would be less successful in the business world with such an Irish name. During that time, in New York there was a great deal of prejudice against Irish immigrants or so was my grandparents’ perception. My grandfather met a kind man who helped him start his own business named Ronald so they took to calling my father by that name.”
Ash finished his drink.
“Ronnie, is that it? I have a feeling there’s more.”
I sighed deeply massaging my temples.
“Yes, there is, Ash. After my mother died, my father put me into a Catholic girls’ school in Manhattan. He demanded that I be ladylike at all times. I wasn’t even allowed to wear pants until I was ten years old. He groomed me for New York society and always spoke of the fabulous debutante ball I would be invited to when I was eighteen. He never asked me what I wanted. He handpicked my dates, sons of wealthy, prominent New York businessmen. I hated it. The boys he selected for me were just as sleazy and sex-crazed as the guys I wanted to date from Brooklyn, but my father wouldn’t hear of that. So, when I was seventeen I had been secretly dating a boy from the Bronx. He was your typical blue collar guy who liked to work on cars. Unfortunately, my father refused to put me on the pill so I found myself…” I trailed off ashamed to go any further.
“Pregnant?” He finished.
I nodded.
“Yes. So naturally when my father found out he was furious. Initially, I wanted to end the pregnancy, but I just couldn’t do that. He forced me to go to a home for wayward girls in England where my Aunt Shannon had volunteered.”
“So what happened? I never knew you’d been pregnant.” Ash looked alarmed. He poured himself another scotch and stood against the chair.
I sighed feeling all the pain of the past erupting inside me. I knew it was time to tell Ash everything. I knew I risked losing him, but he had to know.
Fall 1997
The huge gothic Victorian school loomed before me. The sky was dark and ominous as the limo drove up the circular drive. I sat with my hands clutching my skirt as I gazed out at what was to be my new home for the next nine months.
My father sat beside me his face stern and frowning. Overnight it seemed he’d aged. His once dark hair was now peppered with silver. I’d been forced to inform my friends that I was going overseas for a special “educational opportunity” for my junior year of high school. I’d been dreading this day since the day my father had found out about my pregnancy. Fortunately, I hadn’t experienced any unpleasant pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness although I’d noticed a slight bulging across my middle. I was still quite thin, but I’d already gone up a cup size. It wasn’t noticeable to others as I’d been big breasted since I was thirteen.
“Quite impressive, don’t you think, Veronica? The architecture of this building is exquisite.”
I shrugged looking at the huge building. It was formidable and ugly to me. My stomach twisted into knots.
“Your Aunt Shannon told me it was built in 1857. This building has a long, interesting history. Perhaps you can read about it yourself to keep your mind occupied, but I suspect the sisters here will see to that.” He nodded.
I groaned inwardly. The heavy breakfast I’d consumed after our flight had arrived now seemed to be disagreeing with me.
The car pulled to a stop. I looked out the window and noticed several young men who appeared to be about my age doing repair work on a sidewalk.
“Who are they?” I muttered to my father. “I thought this was a girls’ school.”
He snorted with disdain.
“The help, I imagine, Veronica. Come now, we have a meeting with Sister Bridget.”
The driver carried my two suitcases inside following us. My entire seventeen years had been reduced to those two small bags.
As we walked into the school, immediately my senses were overwhelmed with the strong, musty odor of age. Years of repression also contributed to the heavy, cloistering aroma. I felt myself falling back into the 19th century. My father walked around admiring the Victorian architecture as I felt my gorge rise in my throat.
Just then, a heavy door squeaked open and a middle aged woman dressed in a nun’s habit gestured to us.
“I’m Sister Bridget. I assume you are Mr. James.” She nodded to my father to sit. She hadn’t even glanced my way yet.
Her skin was crisscrossed with fine lines. Her lips were an angry red slash. She had a rather large pale brown birthmark her right cheek. The shape reminded me of the African continent. Her voice didn’t have a typical British accent. Since I had spent every Christmas with my father’s family in Ireland, my ears detected a familiar Irish lilt.
“Mr. James, you have agreed to leave your daughter with us until she gives birth, is that correct?”
“Yes, Sister. I’m also hoping that you can improve her mental and spiritual life as well. Obviously, she’s lacking in both areas.”
Sister Bridget gave a curt nod.
“Obviously. Well, Mr. James, while our establishment is quite old we do enjoy the luxuries of modern medicine. Every medical need of your daughter’s will be met in order to ensure she gives birth to a healthy baby. No need for an innocent baby to suffer for the sins of its’ mother.”
I cringed. She still hadn’t made eye contact with me.
“Just to be clear, Mr. James, we have already arranged for a wonderful, local Catholic family to adopt the baby when she gives birth.”
“That’s exactly what we want. And no one will know she was ever here? I’m rather prominent in New York society I can’t have this getting out.”
Always he was concerned about his precious reputation. It sickened me.
“Discretion is the key, Mr. James. Most of the parents of the girls here are faced with the same issue. A sinful child can be such a burden.”
Finally, she fixed her gaze upon me. She looked at me as if I were a loathsome creature rather than a young woman.
“Don’t worry, Mr. James. The sisters and I will assist your daughter with learning how to atone for her sins. When you retrieve her in nine months, I expect she’ll be quite different, for the better I might add.”
“Veronica, I will come for you after the birth and we shall return to New York. Please listen to what the sisters tell you and perhaps we can make a fresh start.” He extended his arms to me. I buried my face in his coat heavy sobs erupting from me. Despite my anger at him, he was leaving me all alone in a foreign country with nuns I expected would deal quite harshly with me.
“Please, don’t go, Daddy! Please! I’ll be good, I promise!”
He pried my fingers from his arm.
“Now, Veronica, you’ll be fine. The sisters will take good care of you.”
After a few minutes of struggling, he left the building. I was tempted to run after him, but Sister Bridget’s bony fingers found my arm.
“Sit down, girl. Let me tell you what you can expect living here. This is not a summer camp or a luxury boarding school. You are here because you committed the sin of fornication. As a result, you have also found yourself pregnant with a child out of wedlock.”
This was 1997. What the hell century was she living in? There were millions out of wedlock births every year!
“You will likely find our accommodations less than the five star hotels you are used to frequenting. Our rooms are modest. Our nourishment is modest. You will be given three square meals a day. They will not be lavish, but they will nourish you and your unborn child. You will work while you are here.”
“My father said I was to attend school here.”
“Don’t interrupt me, girl!” She smacked the desk with her palm.
“You will attend classes here from 7 AM until 10 AM. The rest of the day will entail work. You will do penance for your sins by working. The sisters and I find that hard work enriches the soul and gives the mind a healthy focus. All the girls here work daily despite their pregnancies.”
I shrank back into the
plastic cushioned chair.
“What…what kind of work?”
She smirked at me.
“I expect you’re a spoiled, pampered society girl. Never worked a minute in your life. Well, here you will do the chores you are assigned. We were given this building by the historical society to renovate and maintain. You will do such chores as mopping the floors, cleaning the bathrooms, washing clothes. Sometimes we have you do outdoor work on pleasant days.”
I swallowed hard. I wasn’t afraid of work just hard work while I was pregnant.
“We have prayer three times daily. You will be sharing a room with another wayward girl like yourself.”
She stood up indicating I should follow her.
“Another thing, girl. We don’t condone the use of cosmetics here. You will keep yourself clean and neat. No fancy soaps, perfumes, or other toiletries.” With that, she reached up and jerked out the jeweled clip I had in my hair.
“No jewelry with exception of religious jewelry. No ‘exotic’ undergarments. You will be given a nightdress, plain white underwear, and a uniform to wear.” She eyed the beautiful crucifix around my neck hanging from a white gold chain. It had belonged to my mother.
I clutched my bags to me.
“I can’t wear my own clothes? But…”
She snatched my suitcases from me.
“You will have these returned to you when you leave. Come now, we have much to do.”
As the heavy door to her office closed, I felt the outside world being closed off to me. The place looked like a prison. As I walked behind Sister Bridget, we turned off the long corridor into the right wing of the building.
Dozens of rooms were housed in that wing. The ceilings were quite high, but the windows were unnaturally small. Finally, near the end of the corridor Sister Bridget turned and opened a door.
“Here is another wayward girl to join us, Hannah.” Sister Bridget stood in the doorway to a sparsely furnished room. It was small with two twin beds adorned with plain white bedspreads. There was a small window between them. The walls were a sickly beige color and bare. The only decorations being a large crucifix and a portrait of the Virgin Mary.
Insatiable Series Box Set Page 21
