The Henson Brothers: Two Complete Novels

by Girard, Dara

  "Eric!"

  "I don't trust him."

  Sya had said the same thing, but she'd had many friends others didn't understand. Besides, she liked being needed. She liked to know she was helping him. "That's your business. I know what I'm doing."

  "We all make mistakes."

  She walked past him.

  "How much did you give him?"

  "It was a loan."

  "Has he ever paid you back?"

  "He will—"

  "Once he makes it," Eric finished in disgust. He swore.

  "You have a filthy mouth."

  "And a filthy mind. Do you want me to tell you what I really think of him?"

  She dropped her robe and got in bed. "I don't care."

  "Fine." He kissed her on the cheek.

  "What was that for?"

  "It was either that or slapping you on the rear for your stubbornness."

  She kissed him on the mouth. "It was either that or strangling you." She switched off the lights.

  * * *

  Adriana woke with an odd sense of panic. It increased when she noticed Eric was gone. She found him in the living room tying his shoes.

  "You're leaving?" It was a silly question. His bag sat next to him, his jacket hung over the couch.

  Eric grabbed his bag and stood. "You didn't expect me to stay forever, did you?"

  "No," she said quickly. "No, of course not. I'm glad you're better." She didn't know why the words sounded false.

  He put his bag down and sighed. "You have that worried look on your face."

  "Are you leaving because of this morning? Because of Keith?"

  "No, I'm leaving because it's time."

  Adriana tightened the belt on her robe. "Right."

  Eric watched her. "Moving in is a big step."

  She jerked her head back. "I don't want you to move in."

  He grabbed his bag. "Then that's that." He opened the door.

  "Don't be angry."

  "I'm not angry."

  She leaned against the wall. "I enjoyed having you here. I'm just not ready—"

  "I know. Don't worry." He turned.

  She didn't want to see him go. She searched her mind for something to say. "Could you take Nina to work one day?"

  "Why?"

  "She's supposed to do a paper on a career."

  Eric looked at her. "Why don't you take her to work?"

  "I'd rather not."

  He shook his head. "It's not like you run a bordello."

  "Your job will be easier to explain."

  "But—"

  Adriana held her hands together. "Please."

  "Does she know what you do?"

  "Yes."

  He sighed. "Fine. I'll pick her up one day."

  "Thanks."

  They stared at each other, leaving certain thoughts and feelings unsaid so that they hung in the air between them, waiting to be revealed. He finally turned to go.

  * * *

  She missed him. Adriana buried her face in his pillow and shook her head. It was ridiculous to miss someone like this. He had his place; she had hers. They were temporary lovers, nothing more. No, that was wrong. They were boyfriend, girlfriend now, but she still didn't know for how long.

  She showered and changed and went into her office and switched on the radio. Soothing jazz floated from the speakers. He had changed the station. Instead of being annoyed she laughed and switched it back to a rock station. She turned to her desk and stopped. "Oh no."

  All her pencils had been sharpened, any eraser remnants swept away, scattered papers placed in the wastebasket. Her sketches were stacked. On top of them was a bad drawing of a bluebird. Underneath in Eric's barely legible handwriting he had written:

  Hope is the thing with feathers that perches on your soul and sings the tune without words and never stops at all

  —Emily Dickinson

  "Damn you," she whispered without malice, brushing her tears away. She pushed the picture aside and began to draw.

  ***

  She knew it wasn't in her budget, but she couldn't resist. It was a child's leather jacket that was the spitting image of hers. It had Nina's name on it. She could just imagine them walking down Sixteenth Street in their matching jackets, jeans, and black boots. It would be a wonderful gift for Nina since she'd been such a good help with Eric. Plus their relationship had improved immensely.

  Adriana examined the jacket, then looked at the price. She cringed, but her desire dampened any reservations. Nina deserved the best. She was used to it and Adriana wanted her to know her mother could get pretty things like her father could.

  * * *

  "It's really nice," Nina said, running her hand over the soft leather.

  "I have a jacket just like it," Adriana said proudly. "We'll be matching, coordinated. Won't that be nice?"

  "Yes." She hugged her. "Thanks, Mom."

  "Try it on."

  She did. She looked awkward, but Adriana was sure Nina would get used to it soon enough. She imagined getting her earrings and more fashionable jeans and tops. Nina needed something better than the old granny sweaters she wore when not in school. Perhaps she could even get her interested in fashion. She could buy her a teen magazine. Then they would have something more in common.

  "You look wonderful," she said.

  Nina smiled.

  She'd meant to say "I love you," but Nina had already headed down the hall.

  * * *

  "Mom, the door," Nina called as Adriana cleared their dinner.

  She opened the door and raised a brow. "Oh, it's you."

  Laurence stepped in. "How are things going?"

  "Fine."

  Nina hugged her father. He patted her affectionately on the head. "Do you like it here?" he asked. She nodded.

  "How is school? Are you keeping up your grades?"

  "Yes. I have a garden, do you want to see it?"

  "Sure."

  She took him to the kitchen and showed him her herbs. "Uncle Eric helped me set it up."

  "Who's Uncle Eric?"

  "A friend of mine," Adriana replied, answering both his verbal and his silent question.

  He said in a low voice, "I hope you're being discreet."

  Adriana ignored the hint. "How are the wedding plans?"

  "I think they're hectic, but Irene seems revived by them." He looked at Nina, who was whispering something to her garden. "What is she doing?"

  "She talks to them. Eric says it helps them grow."

  "She looks happy anyway. Perhaps you have a maternal instinct after all."

  "Perhaps."

  He strolled into the living room and stood in front of the balcony window. "Shame things couldn't have worked out between us."

  "That's an odd thing for a new groom to mention."

  "I'm just saying for Nina's sake."

  "Yes. I know. We're too different."

  "So who is this Eric guy?"

  Adriana rested her hands on her hips. "You're entering dangerous territory."

  "I think I have the right to know the kind of men my daughter is being exposed to."

  "Like I got to know Irene?"

  "My women are harmless. What is he like?"

  "She just showed you. He helped her plant a garden." She adjusted the cuffs on her shirt. "When he shows her how to load a .45, then worry."

  "I can't help being curious. I know the kind of men you like." He leaned against the balcony door, shoving a hand in his pocket. "At least tell me how many earrings he has."

  "None."

  "Okay, then tattoos."

  "None."

  "Rings?"

  "He doesn't wear jewelry."

  "What does he do?"

  "He's a financial adviser."

  Laurence threw his head back and laughed. "That's a good one, Addie. You really had me for a second." He held up his hands. "Okay, you've made your point. It's none of my business."

  She frowned. "But I'm telling you the truth."

  He tu
rned to his daughter, who had come to sit on the couch. "Nina, describe Uncle Eric for me."

  She paused, thoughtful, then said slowly, "He looks a little scary at first, but he's really nice. He has glasses because his eyes are bad."

  "Bad to the bone, huh?" Laurence laughed again. He walked to the door and then spun around and snapped his fingers. "I've got an idea."

  Adriana clapped. "Congratulations."

  He ignored her. "Why don't we all have lunch? Irene wants to meet you anyway."

  She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

  "Curiosity, I suppose."

  "And you're curious to meet Eric, right?"

  "This weekend okay for you? Saturday?"

  "I'll—"

  "Good. See you then." He opened the door. "I'll call and give you directions to her place. Unless you want to be picked up."

  "I said—"

  "We'll figure it out later." He waved at Nina, then left.

  "That man," Adriana muttered, staring at the door.

  "Aren't you going to call Uncle Eric?" Nina asked when she continued to stand there.

  "I'm sure he's busy." Why would he want to suffer through an experience with her ex and his fiancée? She certainly didn't want to.

  Nina tugged on her sleeve. "You have to ask him."

  "I have things to do."

  "Then can I call him?"

  Adriana sighed. There was no use avoiding it. "Fine. Go and call him."

  * * *

  He shouldn't have mentioned living together. Eric watched his dinner heating in the microwave and fumed. The relationship had already gone into a direction he hadn't planned. Why would he say that? He'd never lived with a woman. He liked his freedom. Why would he want to change that?

  The phone rang. "Henson."

  There was a brief pause. "Uncle Eric?"

  His voice softened. "Hello, Nina."

  "Can you come to lunch with us on Saturday?"

  He pulled his dinner out of the microwave. "Sure."

  She said something to Adriana, then spoke to him. "Mom wants to speak with you."

  Adriana picked up the phone. "Eric, the lunch is with my ex-husband and his fiancée."

  He stuck a fork into his spaghetti. The entire meal came out of the carton. "Trying to warn me off?"

  "I don't even want to go, there's no reason why you should."

  Eric pulled the frozen meal off the fork and shoved it back in the microwave. "Moral support?"

  "That's not enough."

  "Fine, then curiosity. I want to meet the man capable of persuading you into marriage."

  "I was naive. Partially brain-dead."

  He laughed. "I'll see you Saturday."

  * * *

  Lunch was on the covered lanai. November sunshine crept along the surrounding greenery in a dim haze. Bowls of fruit, santorini salad with grilled shrimp, chickpea salad, sliced fresh guava with coconut, and ginger punch decorated the table dressed in a lace tablecloth and hand-painted dinnerware.

  "I can't believe I'm doing this," Adriana mumbled, staring out into the rock garden, listening to the bubbling of a small waterfall. She glanced over her shoulder at Eric, who was trapped in the corner with Irene. She was pleasant enough as Laurence's women went. She had an animated face, not too animated naturally. Subtlety was paramount in his crowd. She was dressed in classic wool trousers and a peach sweater set. Her movements were young and energetic, but would eventually be tempered by maturity and marriage. It was clear that Irene did not take to Nina, whom she avoided like an unwanted crease.

  Laurence had yet to make his appearance. If he didn't come soon Adriana would start lunch without him. She shifted to her other leg, her suede red skirt brushing against the iron rail. Nina entertained herself by walking through the garden. Adriana glanced at Irene again. She was the very reason Nina's life had changed.

  Adriana suddenly set her glass down and went up to Eric. She looped her arm through his. "Excuse me, I need to borrow him for a moment." She drew him away.

  "You didn't have to save me," he said.

  "I'm saving myself. Her voice is getting on my nerves." Adriana glanced at her watch. "I should have known."

  "Known what?"

  "That Laurence would be late. He always is. It makes him feel important to make an entrance."

  Irene approached them. "I don't know where Laurence could be."

  "I'm sure he'll be here soon," Adriana said. "He's always late. It's a chronic disease with him."

  Her voice turned cool. "You don't need to tell me about him."

  "Retract the claws, I am not interested in him."

  "Then why did you want to have this lunch?"

  She let Eric's arm go. "Me? He was the one who invited us. I don't know what's running in your mind, but Laurence and I have been over for a long time. There's no need to be jealous."

  "I'm not." She sipped her drink and looked Adriana up and down. "I graduated from Brown. Where did you go? "

  "Screw U. Heard of it?"

  Her mouth fell open but no words emerged. She spun on her heel and went into the house.

  "Insecure little—"

  Eric rested a hand on her shoulder. "Don't say anything you'll regret."

  "I won't regret it."

  "You were a little harsh."

  "Tacky and vulgar. I know. My parents would have killed me." Adriana grinned. "It would have been worth it."

  "Don't let her get to you."

  Laurence made his entrance then. He stood in the doorway and glanced around as if he expected applause. "So where's this Eric I've heard so much about?"

  Eric set his drink down and held out his hand. "That would be me."

  Laurence's eyes swept him in one incredulous stare. He looked at Eric and then looked down at himself. He had expected leather or denim, not the dress shirt and trousers before him.

  "It's nice to meet you," he said, recovering.

  "Likewise. I'll tell Nina you're here." Eric disappeared into the garden.

  Laurence nudged Adriana. "Returning to your old staples, huh?"

  Adriana poured herself another drink. She couldn't drink enough to make this day end. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

  Surprisingly, the lunch went well. Eric had a skillful ability to direct the conversation, so it went smoothly. All potentially dangerous topics were either avoided or redirected. One tense moment threatened to destroy the calm atmosphere. Irene didn't like a prepared dish and threw the food away. For a moment Eric looked physically ill at the sight of such waste. Adriana touched his sleeve and he averted his gaze. She requested that they take home any unwanted leftovers.

  As the staff cleared the table, Irene came up to her. "I am sorry about earlier."

  "Don't worry about it," Adriana replied, flippant. "I believe I played my role well."

  "Your role?"

  "Yes, the first wife is suppose to be a bitch."

  "No, I didn't mean—"

  "Relax. Laurence tricked us both. But it was time we met each other."

  Irene's eyes fell. "He talks about you and Nina a lot."

  "That's because he's grateful he doesn't have to live with us anymore."

  Irene raised her eyes. "It doesn't seem that way."

  "He may talk about us, but he loves you. There are plenty of women dying to marry him and he chose you. That makes you important to him. Nina and I are part of his past. Soon you'll be the only one he talks about."

  Irene glanced at Eric, who was talking to Laurence near the garden. "Your boyfriend seems like a decent guy. From what I've heard, you like bad boys."

  "Eric is really a bounty hunter, but I just dressed him up for the occasion to impress you."

  Her eyes widened.

  "That was a joke."

  "Oh, right," she said, but she looked unsure. "Excuse me." She went to instruct the staff to wrap up the dishes.

  Laurence came up to her. "Your Eric is quite a guy."

  She sipped her punch and imitated his tone. "And your Irene is qui
te a girl."

  His voice lowered. "There's no reason to be jealous of her."

  "Why would I be jealous?"

  "Because you're still in love with me."

  Adriana choked on her punch. It took a lot of effort not to be ill. "What?"

  "Admit it, Addie. It's obvious. You've chosen a guy who's just like me."

  Her voice was tight. "He is not just like you."

  "Look at him."

  Her eyes remained on his face. "He is not like you."

  "You can deny it all you want, but the evidence is right there for everyone to see. Of course it goes deeper than that. You constantly try to rebel, but keep choosing men like your father."

  "Will you be charging a fee after this consultation?"

  He shrugged. "I'm just trying to help you break a bad pattern. You won't last long with him. He's a smart man and he's going to get bored eventually."

  "Like you did?"

  "Why don't you stop trying to prove yourself and get someone on your level?"

  Her lips thinned. "Because I have to wait for him to graduate from nursery school."

  "You're taking this the wrong way. You don't understand."

  "Unfortunately, I do." She pushed past him and stumbled to the bathroom, afraid she would really be ill and embarrass herself. Thankfully, she managed to keep her lunch down. She sat on the toilet and held her head.

  She let the tears fall then. She tried to combat Laurence's words, but feared there was a hint of truth. What if he was right? Could she fall for another man like her father? Was that why she had married Laurence in the first place? Would Eric be the same? Someone she would care for, try to please, and ultimately fail?

  Her uncertainty made her feel stupid. She wished she could argue with Laurence instead of feeling like a confused child. She wished she could engage in witty banter with the Irenes of the world, that Laurence would consider his first wife to be someone to brag about like, "Yes, the marriage didn't work out, but she's a researcher at NIH or a professor at Hopkins." She doubted he even mentioned her name.

  She clenched her fist. He was wrong. She wasn't trying to marry her father. Their relationship was complicated, but she accepted it for what it was. She loved him, accepted him, despite the shadow of pain that came with thoughts of him.

  Christopher Travers was a dynamic man who was the ultimate master of his fate and others'. A calculating, domineering force who loved with discipline. He used to make her tremble with just a breath. He was a brilliant cardiologist who expected nothing less from his offspring.