No one said a word. They thought they knew what happened next by the look on Brigid’s face, but it was her story to tell.
“I had notice a man with a scowl on his face, wearing a dirty white shirt and worn jeans, staring at me. It made me very nervous. When Peter left, the man came over and introduced himself as Henry.”
“Henry as in Harold Cassidy, right?” Aidan asked.
“Yes. He asked if he could see my ring. I told him to go away. That my boyfriend would be right back. He didn’t care. He looked around and saw that the waitress and cook were in the back. They must have been smoking or something, because they didn’t hear my screams when he tried to pull my ring off my finger. I dug my fingers into my palm so tight that he couldn’t pry it loose. So… so he grabbed me and carried me, kicking and screaming, out the front door. He stuffed me into the back seat and we drove off at top speed. I could see Peter running after us…”
Vicky grabbed the box of tissues off the counter and sat it down in front of Brigid. “If this is too hard for you, Brigid?”
As much as Aidan wanted to hear the rest of the story, she knew Vicky was right. “Yeah. Grandfather told us what happened to you, so—”
“No, let me get it out now. I want you to hear it from me before I have to tell it in court.”
Aidan picked up a tissue and handed it to Brigid. “All right, Máthair.”
Brigid smiled as she wiped her tears away. “I love hearing you say that, mo leanbh.”
“And I love hearing you call me your child,” Aidan said. “I’ve always wanted to be someone’s child.”
“You were always my child, Aidan,” Brigid countered. “Without you, my heart was broken. Now it is mended and full again.” Brigid leaned over and kissed Aidan on the cheek.
It was such an emotional time for Aidan that tears welled up in her own eyes. “Don’t mind me,” she said as she grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her tears. “Go on with what you were saying, I’m just going to get a beer.” Aidan got up and walked into the kitchen.
Vicky smiled knowingly. It was hard for Aidan to cry in front of people, but it was good that she allowed it, especially for something as loving and painful as this was.
“Anyone need anything while I’m up?”
“Another bottle of wine would be good,” Vicky answered.
“Aidan, do you know why Harold hates me so badly?” Brigid asked.
“I hadn’t really given it much thought,” Aidan replied, setting her beer bottle on the counter and picking up the corkscrew. “Growing up, he would never talk about you. All he would say was that you died giving birth to me.”
“That bastard,” Peg said. “That ag fuck bastard.”
Aidan pulled the cork out and brought the wine bottle and her beer over to the table. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Aunt Peg.”
“Harold blames me for shaming him in front of his father and ruining his life,” Brigid continued. “You see, even though Harold forced me to drink a soda that had a drug in it, I still fought him as much as I could until I passed out. I remember someone holding a gunna grain, um, a shotgun, and a Bible, standing next to the father. I could hear myself laughing and my words were slurred as I pointed at the old man’s pants and said what a tiny péineas he had. I think that must have been when I passed out, because I don’t remember anything after that.”
“Damn, that was brilliant,” Aidan laughed. “There is no greater insult to a hillbilly than to tell him what a small penis he has.”
“I think you’re right because when I woke up, we were back in Harold’s carr atá briste síos, and he had a súil dhubh forming under his eye.”
“Broken down car and black eye,” Aidan translated for Vicky. Aidan noticed that the more her mother talked about what happened to her, the more she slipped into her own language. Brigid was drawing on the comfort of her native tongue which helped to keep her grounded.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Sometimes I don’t realize I’m not speaking English,” Brigid said.
“No need to apologize, Brigid,” Vicky assured her. “Aidan loves to translate.”
“And she’s very good at it too,” Brigid said. “Anyway, Harold was so upset that we drove for days, stopping only to relieve ourselves and get something to eat. I tried to run away, but he caught me, and after that, I had to pee on the side of the road where he could keep an eye on me. He didn’t try to take my ring again, but he did talk about how much he thought he could get for it. That’s when I told him about the ring’s curse, and really embellished on how the mob would hunt him down and kill him. In hindsight, I should have just let him sell the damn thing so that they would kill him.”
Vicky, who had been fidgeting with the ring, took it off, looked at Aidan solemnly, and then gave it to Peg. “The ring is cursed because it belongs with the crown jewels. It belongs with the people of Ireland. Please give it back to your people, Peg.”
“Baby, are you sure?” Aidan asked.
“The ring was not what I thought it was, honey. I don’t need it to know that you love me.”
Aidan slipped her hand under the table and between Vicky’s legs. It was a way to not only comfort Vicky, but measure the impact her next words would have on her wife. “And I do love you, even more now,” Aidan replied. “I’ll get you another ring after the trial is over with.”
Vicky smiled, her eyes glistening as she looked at Aidan. She clinched her thighs to hold Aidan’s hand in place.
“On behalf of Ireland, I thank you, Vicky,” Peg said, slipping the ring onto her pinky finger for safekeeping.
“What?” Vicky said. “Oh, yes, of course.” She patted Aidan’s hand and then removed it. It was too distracting. “Please, go on with what you were saying, Brigid.”
Aidan smiled at the heat she had felt. We’re going to be all right, kid.
“Brigid, why do you think Harold held you captive all that time,” Vicky asked.
“Part of it was revenge because I had shamed him in front of his father, and I think part of it was because he liked having a slave to do his bidding. He was very abusive up until the time I started showing. When he found out I was pregnant, he stopped punching me when I didn’t get his beer quick enough. In fact, he didn’t come near me at all. Of course, by that time I was so traumatized that I jumped when he yelled for a drink. I delivered you with the help of a midwife Harold had brought in. One that wouldn’t ask questions. One that I think he had probably slept with as a form of payment.”
“Ew, there’s a vision I didn’t need to see,” Aidan joked to keep her anger in check.
“My vision was on you, my new born baby. You were so beautiful, perfect in every way. I counted your fingers and toes, tickled your knees and kissed your nose.” Brigid looked away, tears welling up in her eyes again. “And now for the hardest part of all,” she said, grabbing a tissue and turning back to Aidan. “I was in the kitchen washing dishes. I remember taking my ring off and laying it on the kitchen press. But when I saw that Harold was asleep in the chair, and you were asleep in your cradle, I quietly snuck out of the house and ran down the street looking for a phone to call my father. I was only gone for a few minutes. Just a wee few minutes. It was the first chance I’d had to get away from him in a long while, and I only wanted to call my father and tell him where I was at so that he could come get us. I was so relieved after talking to my father. He would come and take us back to Ireland… but when I walked in and saw your empty cradle, Aidan, my heart shattered into a million pieces.” Brigid couldn’t go on. She grabbed several tissues and sobbed uncontrollably.
“It’s okay, Mom, I understand now,” Aidan said, rubbing her mother’s back.
Vicky was also sobbing, and Aidan pulled both women close and held them as they cried. Peg, who set across from Aidan, with her own tears streaming down her face, saw that Aidan was crying as well. Her tears were silent, though, and she was smiling.
Aidan was smiling because now she knew her birthright, and even though it wasn’t the fantasy she had made
up as a child, it was still her personal legacy. There was just one more thing she needed to know to make all the pieces fit together.
“So, what happened with Peter?” Aidan asked soberly. “I know he was a jerk, asking for the ring back, but why didn’t you two get back together?”
Brigid turned her head. I could lie and spare her the pain.
“I can handle it, Mom. Whatever it is,” Aidan stated, sensing that she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.
Brigid looked at Aidan and forced a half smile on her lips. “After we were forced to return to Ireland, I told him about you, and he… he didn’t want the responsibility of being a father, Aidan. He left school and went back to South Africa.”
“Another ag fuck,” Peg exclaimed.
Aidan shook her head. “No, well, yes, he is, but not in the way you would think. He didn’t have a choice in being a father, but he did have a choice in walking away. And quite honestly, that’s okay. I don’t think I could handle a deadbeat dad after an abusive one. If I need fatherly advice, I’ll go to the one person I know I can trust. My father-in-law.”
Vicky put her hand on Aidan’s arm. “Aidan, now that we know who your father is, you can check into vacating the adoption, if Peter is willing to step up and claim you.”
“Damn. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I’ll look into it after the trial. I don’t need any more drama in my life right now.”
***
Bright and early Monday morning, Aidan, Vicky and Brigid took Peg to the airport. After hugs and kisses, and promises of a return visit, Peg was on her way back to Ireland. The courtroom had not yet been cleared for use, and the other courtrooms were already booked, so they had another day off. Vicky insisted that Aidan and her mother spend the day together, and since Aidan was satisfied that Harold had played his last hand, she agreed.
They dropped Vicky off at the hospital, and Aidan drove Brigid up to her childhood home in Beebe.
“Careful of the wood,” Aidan cautioned as they made their way up to the front door, which was open. The house was dilapidated, left in disrepair because no one wanted the expense of tearing it down. The land it sat on, had gone back to the city for back taxes.
“This is where you grew up?” Brigid asked in dismay.
“Well, it wasn’t that bad back then. I mean, it needed new shutters and a paint job, but it was in good shape for the most part.” Aidan had brought her mother there to show her a piece of her childhood. Both women were trying to fill in the gaps and feel a part of the other’s life. “So, Mom. Did you live in Arkansas when you and Harold were running from state to state?”
“No, but we were in Maryland, then Tennessee, where I gave birth to you, and then Louisiana, I think. We didn’t stay long in any place.”
“I was born in Tennessee? That’s good to know. Do you remember where Harold’s father lived?” Aidan asked as she walked back to where her bedroom used to be.
“No, I don’t remember much about that part of my abduction.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Aidan said, kicking herself for bringing it up. “Here we are. This was my bedroom, and this was my crappy bed.”
“My God, Aidan, you slept on that? It’s not even a full bed.”
“Tell me about it. My legs hung off the end of it. But here, what I really wanted to show you, is the treehouse Vicky and I built when we were kids.” Aidan carefully led her out the backdoor and over to the thick, now very tall tree. The treehouse was in better shape than the house, but not by much. They stood staring up at it as Aidan told the story of being caught making out with Vicky in that treehouse. She waxed sentimental, embracing the fond memories of a happier time as a child.
“Aidan, I’ve heard bits and pieces from you and your in-laws, but it’s not enough. How did you get away from Harold? Why did you leave here? Was it because Vicky was raped by him?”
Aidan held up her hands. “Hell no, not because of him. It was because I wanted to protect Vicky. Tell you what, Mom. Let’s go have lunch and I’ll tell you my life’s story. But only if you’ll tell me all about your life’s story afterwards. Deal?”
“Deal,” Brigid said with a smile.
Aidan told Brigid all about her childhood, her wild teenage years in a Chicago Irish gang, and distinguished Army career during the Iraqi war. But the part she spent the most time talking about, was when she and Vicky fell in love again as adults. Aidan ended up driving them out to the cemetery where Vicky’s baby was buried.
Brigid read the name on the tombstone, Aidan L. Montgomery, and began to cry. “Did the… did the wee one suffer?”
Aidan looked at her mother and felt her empathy. “No, Mom.” She wrapped her arm across Brigid’s shoulder, and the two of them stood there for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts about what could have been.
Aidan’s phone vibrated with a text. “They’ve released the courtroom. The trial is back in session in the morning.”
“Oh,” Brigid mumbled. She was hoping to have more time with Aidan because as soon as the trial ended, she would have to return to Ireland.
“And the Judge is allowing Harold back as well,” Aidan added, her anxiety kicking back in.
Chapter Thirteen
On the first day of the trial, the gallery was half empty, but by day four, it was standing room only. Reporters clambered to get a seat up front with their recording devices ready. Trial watchers squeezed in behind Aidan and Vicky’s friends, which had also multiplied. Yvonne had one of her assistants take over her desk while she took PTO, paid time off, to be in court with Vicky. Jerry, having completed his main investigation, sat beside Yvonne. Joyce, Ellen, Richard, Brigid, Leonard and Alice all sat beside or behind Aidan and Vicky.
The Bailiff, with a bandage on his neck, was back at his post beside the bench, more alert than ever.
Vicky was in the witness chair, nervous but determined. She fidgeted with her wedding band because her finger felt unbalanced without the engagement ring.
“Describe for the Judge what you saw when you walked into your parent’s house?” Meghan asked.
Vicky looked steadily at her. “My father was sitting in his recliner with tape over his mouth, and his hands behind his back. My mother was sitting on the couch the same way. I ran to my father and pulled the tape off. He told me it was a trap and that I should leave.”
“And did you leave?” Meghan asked.
Vicky shook her head. “Of course not.”
“What happened next?”
“He walked in,” Vicky said, pointing at Harold.
“Let the record show the witness has identified defendant Harold Cassidy as being at the scene,” Meghan stipulated. “What did you do when you saw him, Mrs. Montgomery-Cassidy?”
“When Harold called, he told me if I wanted to see my parents alive again, that I was to come alone, which I did. But before I left I stole my wife’s gun and brought it with me. As I was untying my father, Harold walked in and I shot at him. I was so frightened though, that I missed him completely. I don’t remember much else until I handed Aidan the gun.”
“Nothing further,” Meghan said and sat down.
Harold leaned over to George and whispered gleefully, “Show time.”
“Don’t do it, Harold,” George whispered back.
“Don’t do what?”
“Be an asshole.”
Harold laughed, then stood up, and walked over to Vicky. “Seems to be a lot of people who need shooting lessons,” he joked.
Vicky, who unconsciously tried to lean as far back in the chair as she could, looked him straight in the eye, and said, “Yes, I regret not being a better shot.”
Aidan hooted, as Brigid covered her mouth to suppress a laugh. Judge Williamson gave Aidan a stern look but stopped short of calling for order.
Harold smiled again, but it wasn’t the type of smile that conveyed friendliness or acceptance. It reminded Vicky of the Cheshire Cat, and it was about to devour her.
“You c
laim that it was me you saw, but tell the truth, that was just wishful thinking, wasn’t it?”
“Hardly,” Vicky sneered. “I would never wish to see you under any circumstances.”
“You’re very funny today. Oh, wait, there’s a chip, I mean a bug on your shoulder. Let me get that for you.” Harold reached his hand out toward Vicky and she recoiled, jumping up and wedging herself behind the chair.
The Judge pounded her gavel even as Aidan and Meghan jumped up.
Aidan rushed toward Harold, but Vicky shouted for her to stop.
“No, Aidan! It’s okay. I’m okay.” If Aidan, driven by her anger, attacked Harold the Judge would have no recourse but to hold her in contempt, and Vicky couldn’t handle the thought of not having Aidan in the courtroom with her.
“Objection!” Meghan shouted.
“I strongly agree,” the Judge said angrily.
“But Judge, I swear, there was a bug on her shoulder,” Harold protested without much conviction in his voice.
Williamson pointed her gavel at him. “I don’t care if there’s a five hundred pound gorilla sitting on her shoulder, do that again and I’ll hold you in contempt. Stay over there by your co-counsel, understand?”
Harold nodded. “Yeah, sure Judge.” Then he turned and grinned at Aidan, before walking back to his table. He positioned himself in front of the aisle separating the two counsel tables. “Speaking of contempt, Vicky, why are you so contemptuous of straight people?”
Did I hear him right? Vicky shook her head and looked at the judge. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Let me see if I can word it differently,” Harold volunteered. “You sleep with women, my daughter being one of them, instead of men. So you must have a lot of contempt for men. That’s why you tell these lies against me.”
Vicky laughed annoyingly “Are you serious? I have contempt for you because you raped me, and I sleep with Aidan because she is my wife.”
“So, because you think that I allegedly raped you, you married my daughter, not that it’s a real marriage, to seek revenge against me.”
I Won't Remember You (Aidan & Vicky Book 6) Page 15
