Wild Cards

by R. C. Stephens

  “Vick, you are already twenty-two years old the guy’s been married like three times. Men like him don’t fall head over heels for a woman. They are married to their jobs…whatever happened between your mom and him was probably old news to him. I’m sorry, honey, I know it burns to hear, but trust me I’ve been there…” she trailed off.

  Her words stung right through me even though I knew she was right. “You’ve been in my shoes, Ness?” I asked, hoping to hear more. She had never mentioned her past before, besides the fact that her mother died when she was twelve. I didn’t push because I knew she didn’t like to be pushed, but now that she’d given me a tiny sliver of information I wanted more.

  “My father was also into the big leagues, Vicky. He just cared more about going places than he did my mom and I and once she died…well, I left. There was no point in staying with a man like him.”

  I wondered what all that meant. What big leagues? What did 'a man like him' mean? But I didn’t push, I knew better. Nessa had come a long way in the two and half years that we had been friends, but when we first met, I remembered thinking how socially awkward she was. She hadn’t had any real human to care for her for eight years. She basically raised herself on the streets. Now learning that she came from a rich family surprises the hell out of me.

  “I’m sorry, Nessa…I had no idea…I guess I understand…my papa was harmless and I couldn’t handle being home with him anymore. Watching him drink himself to death was too damn hard.”

  “Ah, Vick, I stopped by the diner yesterday…I saw Marie…she asked how you were doing…she mentioned that she stopped by the house to check on your father and said he looked super skinny…I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty for being in New York, I just want to relay Marie’s message,” she explained hesitantly. It hurt to hear about my papa, and I was swarmed by guilt for leaving him, but after living at home for the past two years, watching my mama die, and then watching him killing himself slowly, I knew it was time to leave for a bit. I couldn’t handle being there and I feared the ground swallowing me up whole.

  “You don’t need to feel bad for telling me, Nessa… I appreciate your honesty and I need to know. I need to prepare myself for the inevitable….” I drifted off sadly. I was thankful to Marie, my mother’s long time best friend, for checking up on Papa but I also wasn’t in denial anymore. I knew it was a matter of time before the alcohol killed him. “I better go…I don’t know how much this call is costing me, I’m on roaming and I don’t want to get a crazy bill when I get back.”

  “Sure, Vick, you take care. Stay strong. Bye.”

  “Bye, Ness,” I said sadly, clicking the phone shut. If I was looking for something to keep my mind off my troubles then my phone call didn’t help, it’s just pushed me even deeper into the dark place I couldn’t seem to pull myself out of. I was too tired to party tonight. Instead I fell asleep on the bed still wearing my clothes.

  “Vicky, help me, Vicky,” Joe calls out to me reaching out his hand for me to take into my grasp, only he’s mere inches away and I can’t save him.

  “I can’t reach you, Joe…reach your hand, I can’t reach you…” I plead, trying to grab for him. We are on a boat in the middle of the ocean, my mama and papa are here. All of us were sunbathing and enjoying some soft music while our boat swayed back and forth along with the tide. Joe stood up and went over to the cooler to grab a beer for Papa and then a wave hit the boat and Joe went sliding off. I reach my hand out hoping the ocean doesn’t suck him up, but I can’t get to him.

  When I turn my head to scream for my mama and papa to help me save Joe, they are both gone. Then I turn my head back to Joe who is pleading with round dark eyes for me to save him, only I can’t reach him…

  I woke up with my heart beating erratically and sweat trickling down the side of my face. I huffed out a long breath. It was only a dream. It was only a dream. What if Joe was in real trouble and no one knew where he was? I tried to take slow breathes to calm myself, while trying to convince myself it was just a bad dream, only my head felt muffled. I was shaking, scared to close my eyes again and have the dream continue. I stumbled out of bed to relieve my bladder and removed the jeans I fell asleep in. Then I hopped under the covers shivering and wishing I had someone to comfort me. I watched the television screen with some guy smiling wide. It was another infomercial. Great. I sat and stared into outer space as I contemplated going back to meet Bryce in the morning. He was less than cordial for our first meeting, but the more I thought about it, I realized that maybe my expectations were too high, after all, I completely came out of left field.

  As light seeped through the blinds, I got into the shower and readied myself for blood work. I hate blood work. It was one of the only things in life that actually caused a queasy reaction out of me. I was twenty-two years old and I actually wished I had my mother with me to hold my hand. The thought saddened me even more because then I thought of all the times she wouldn’t be around to hold my hand, like getting married or giving birth; it made me want to hate those things and never want the simple things I had always dreamed of when I was a little girl.

  After quickly changing into a comfortable pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt in my crummy motel room, I headed out to the street. I would have to pay for another cab. I wondered if Brent Barron was around this morning to share a cab with. As I walked down the street the aroma of fresh bread left an enticing trail but I didn’t enter the bakery because my stomach was in knots. I didn’t think I could swallow a croissant that morning. Luckily, I caught a cab quickly and gave him the address for Tyson. As the cab entered another typical New York traffic jam, I had too much time on my hands to think. I wondered if I was making a mistake going back to Tyson because Bryce didn’t seem much like he had time to be a father, and I didn’t think I was cut out to be the daughter of a wealthy billionaire. Looking down at my clothes I looked like a simple girl, but it’s who I was and I wouldn’t change that part of me for the world. It was a part of me that my mama instilled in me; always be happy with what I have. I was happy in my old life, but now that I have been left with no one to love, I was just an empty shell of the girl I was.

  The cab stopped in front of Tyson and I paid the driver and stepped out of the car. Tilting my head up toward the sky, I could barely see the top of the building, and as the sun stung my eyes, I noticed how tall and daunting it was and my stomach dipped. This was all so overwhelming. As I thought of my lunch date with Luc yesterday I remembered that he mentioned that Bryce wanted to offer me an internship, which meant he wanted me to stay in the city. I found comfort in that little detail. It also probably meant that he knew I was telling the truth about my paternity. If he knew my mama, well then he would know she was honest and pure, without a deceitful bone in her body.

  I knew I came to the city in search of family, but I was quickly realizing that despite the connection of blood, it is the closeness and dedication of a person that I had missed the most. As I passed security my palms began to sweat, Bryce had this domineering presence about him and I didn’t like it. He’s nothing like the warm man my papa used to be before he began drowning himself in alcohol. I took the Tower Two elevator up to the fortieth floor with another ten people in the elevator. My inner voice appeared, willing me to calm down. My stomach was flipping at the thought of having to do the blood test and I inwardly laughed remembering Luc’s statement about having a death wish. He may have been right. He could practically see through me, like the fact I wasn’t scared of my mugger, but yes, I was dammed scared of the needle. As I made my way toward the secretary’s desk, her head lifted and a bright smile spread across her hot pink lips.

  “Hello, Miss Molino,” she grinned knowing my name. “Bryce is just finishing up a meeting, it will only be a few moments. Please take a seat.” She motioned with her hand to a row of chairs lined along the wall. I took a seat in the first chair and entwined my fingers nervously. Then I lifted my head as the door to Bryce’s office opened. The
re was a middle-aged man inside shaking his hand and telling him that they would meet again soon. Then he turned to walk toward the elevator. As he got closer to my line of vision my heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be…I didn’t know his name but I knew the face, those dark eyes. How could I forget that evil face? As my glare froze on him, he took in the shocked look in my eyes and his own forehead creased until recognition lit up his eyes.

  He stopped mid-stride and turned to walk toward me. “Hey, we’ve met before…” he drawled.

  I couldn’t speak. I could barely breath. That night had been one of the worst nights of my life. I was feeling so low. He was good looking and nice, and I left the sex club to go back to his apartment. Only when I got there he had other plans for me. He was into heavy BDSM but that wasn’t the worst part. He had beaten me to a pulp and raped me.

  A moment later Bryce stepped out of his office and walked up to me, I was still frozen in the chair. As he looked between the stranger and me his, dark brows drew together.

  “Scott, do you know Vicky, my daughter?” he asked. Huh? What? My daughter? He was acknowledging me as his daughter? I didn’t do blood work yet.

  Scott looked dumbfounded as he stared between Bryce and I but not as shocked as I looked. Bryce knew this freak of nature that got off on beating and raping women?

  “Ah no…I thought she looked like someone I know but it was my mistake…” Scott trailed off, clearly trying to cover his path. Then he adjusted his tie. He looked uncomfortable.

  “Vicky, this is Scott Wellington… he’s the CEO of a large pharmaceutical company out in Canada….Scott, this is Vicky, she actually also lives in Canada,” Bryce explained as he made the introductions.

  “A pleasure, Vicky.” Scott put out his hand to shake mine. I was shaking like a leaf and I couldn’t imagine ever allowing this man to touch me again…he was a monster of the worst kind. I knew I had to shake his hand though, or else Bryce would think that there was something wrong with me. As it was, I had shut down for the past few seconds. I quickly pushed my anxieties aside and plastered on a smile. I quickly shook the asshole's hand and pulled my own hand away fast enough for him not to take grip of mine.

  “Take care, Scott…we will be in touch,” Bryce said, patting him on the back and basically dismissing him.

  “Vicky, this way…” Bryce motioned for me to follow him into his office.

  Once we were inside his office I was still shaking like a leaf and Bryce seemed to notice. I wasn’t sure how to explain my erratic change of mood. I couldn’t exactly admit the truth. It would make me look bad and we only just met.

  “You just told that man I am your daughter,” I stated, but it was more like a question.

  “Yes,” he nodded his head and rubbed a hand across his lips. “I spent the entire afternoon and night thinking about you and Antonella. I knew the minute you left that if Antonella told you I was your father then I must be your father. Your mother was a good woman and she didn’t have a deceitful bone in her body….after we had spent the week together on the cruise, I tried to contact her, but in those days there were no cell phones. I called your grandparent's house a few times and they wouldn’t pass her the phone.

  “Then one day I called and she picked up. I pleaded with her to come to New York. I offered her a plane ticket…My mother picked up the phone in the middle of the call and insisted I tell her who I was talking to, while your mother listened on. I was twenty years old and my mother was demanding me…” he huffed out a long breath and shook his head. “She asked me if I was on the phone with that prostitute dancer from the cruise ship…then she went on to say that no son of hers was going to date that trash… I’m sorry for the harsh words, Vicky, but the truth is, my mother is a bitch. It’s the only way to put it. Your mother was thrown off by my mother’s comments and she hung up. For weeks I continued to call her and the minute she picked up the phone and heard my voice she hung up. She wouldn’t give me a chance to explain that I had fallen in love with her. I spent months pining for your mother, I even packed a bag to leave for Thunder Bay to find her, but my parents caught on and they threatened to push me out of the family. I was a weak asshole and I never went after her. Losing your mother was my biggest regret in life…” he admitted as his eyes began to swell. “My parents forced me into marrying my first wife, the marriage was loveless, she was a cold woman, who only cared about dollars and cents…It was then that I pushed myself to work hard and not focus on my family, but it was my only solace in a cold world. Now I am a workaholic with three ex’s that hate me and six children that couldn’t care less if I was alive….I’m forty-two years old, Vicky, and when you walked in here yesterday, you turned my entire world upside down. You made me realize what a mistake I made twenty-two years ago letting your mama go. I just can’t believe she’s gone.” He swiped his hand hard over his mouth again, clearly trying to rein in his emotions. He really threw me for a loop. After my welcome yesterday I wasn’t expecting this.

  “I want you to stay in New York, Vicky. Please give me the chance to get to know you,” he said with a pleading tone.

  Off to the side of the room a small Asian man that I hadn’t even noticed cleared his throat. “I’m ready, sir.” The man was wearing a white lab coat and he looked like he had needles set up on a small cart. I took a big gulp of air.

  “We won’t be needing your service now…thank you… just send me the bill,” Bryce trailed off.

  “We won’t?” I questioned with my brows drawn together.

  “Vicky, I know you are mine, we don’t need the blood work. My present world may be filled with unscrupulous people only trying to get ahead, but your mother wasn’t like that. If you don’t mind though, I would like to read the letter she left you…I want to understand why she thought she couldn’t come to me and tell me she was pregnant…it’s been eating away at me. She was my only chance at true love in this life, and I let it slip through my fingers like an asshole.”

  “Sure.” I began to rummage through my purse for the letter I always carried with me. I found it quickly, still in the same white ruffled envelope it had been delivered to me by my mother’s best friend, Marie. She had apparently written it the day after her diagnosis. Even though it’s written as if she’s on her deathbed. She knew I would take care of her until the end, and apparently she predicted my father’s breakdown, maybe they had discussed it, I don’t know. I passed the letter to Bryce and he took it and then walked around his desk to take a seat in his chair.

  “Do you want me to leave?” I asked, feeling like this was going to be hard for him, just like it was for me.

  “No, stay, we still need to talk,” he paused and then he reached into his desk and placed a pair of glasses low on his nose. He began to read and I watched as his face slowly paled and his shoulders hunched over. He looked like he wanted to break down, and it was taking everything in him to hold it together.

  My heart suddenly went out to him. It seemed like it was tough growing up in a rich family like his. My mama didn’t have an education but she had been smart about life. I think she knew this place wouldn’t have been good for me. Who knew how I would have turned out if I did grow up in New York instead of a small town? The only question that lingered in my mind was the what if there was a way to save her…with all the money that Bryce had I wondered if he would have found a way to save her or prolong her life… I tried to push my thoughts aside because she’s gone and the hole that had been burnt through my chest still burned strong.

  “Wow,” he said, as his eyes gazed back up to mine. He seemed speechless.

  “Yeah,” I confirmed, remembering the first time I read the letter. I don’t think I spoke for a full day.

  “You are definitely my daughter…”

  “Yeah…” I answered, as he still seemed overcome with emotion.

  “Will you stay for lunch?” he asked with a hopeful look in his grey eyes.

  “I’m sure you need to work…”

  “Please…
”

  “Okay.”

  While waiting for a good forty-five minutes for our food, Bryce had a lot of questions to ask me. Even though I had spent the last two years acting like a book that was locked shut, I was answering every question with great detail, like my favorite childhood moment or my favorite food. It was interesting to see how much we had in common. We noticed that I had his hands. It was something small but meaningful. There was a light knock on the door and the secretary wheeled in a large cart covered in food.

  “I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I ordered a variety. Salads, pasta, wraps.” He began to list off the food that covered the two layers of the cart. As controlling and domineering as he was yesterday in business mode, today he was soft and funny. I could understand why Mama was drawn to him. He was kind, despite his obsession with work.

  As I sat and we ate lunch in comfortable silence, I realized that if I had learned anything the last two years, it was that life was unpredictable. You could be trudging along, everything just fine and suddenly you are side swiped so badly that you are enveloped in a pool of darkness with no escape. Mama may have escaped her pain by dying, but I was living with mine every day. It was why I used the sex parties to numb my pain. It was the only thing that was making life bearable, having that small piece of enjoyment to look forward to. After being in the city for only a couple days. I had made a connection with Bryce. The thought was warming because a part of me knew that Mama must have been smiling down from heaven watching us having a quiet and contented lunch together…

  ***

  “There was something I wanted to talk to you about,” he began to say cautiously. “I want you to take an internship here at Tyson, you mentioned you were an engineering student. We have an electrical car plant that takes care of design here on site. I would like you to work there. You could probably use your time here to complete your engineering degree. We are affiliated with Columbia, but maybe you can contact the Canadian university and see if they will allow you to use your time as credit here, or maybe you can take some classes at Columbia if you need to,” he suggested. Was he out of his mind? American universities cost a lot more than the Canadian ones, and if I wasn’t mistaken Columbia was Ivy League.