The Surprise

by Alice Ward

  “She’s getting worse,” I said honestly. “She can still take care of herself for the most part, but I’m over there three times a week now.”

  “Damn,” Madison said, shaking her head sadly. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Thank you, but there’s not. I think it might be time to start looking at nursing homes or assisted living places. I need to do more research to see which is best.”

  Her face fell. “Seriously? Already?”

  “I don’t know. There are times when she’s so clear and then times when she isn’t. I wish I lived closer, worked closer, but I don’t and I…” I was about to cry. Dammit. I sniffed hard and forced everything back. “I wish I could just move in and take care of her, but I can’t do that either.”

  “I know. And, honey, you already work two part-time jobs and paint as much as you can. You’re doing so much.” Her face was a mask of sympathy. “God, that sucks.”

  “It does,” I agreed. “Plus, those places are expensive as hell, especially the really good ones. There’s no way I’ll be able to afford it yet. I need some of these paintings to sell.”

  “They will,” Madison said with confidence.

  “I hope so.”

  After talking with my friend, I made my rounds. More people were arriving by the second, and the gallery was soon packed. I mingled with each guest and directed a few people toward the snack table. I watched as they nibbled on cheeses and sipped wine. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and I could only pray this would be my most successful show yet.

  I grinned and walked over to the owner. The show was about to end, and I wanted to know how many pieces had sold.

  “Anything?” I asked, standing beside her.

  She nodded. “One piece sold about an hour ago.”

  My heart began to thump. “Which one?”

  “The landscape,” she said, pointing toward the painting.

  The air left me like a slowly sinking balloon. The landscape was a great painting, but it wasn’t top dollar. I would only make a thousand dollars for it, which wasn’t nearly enough.

  I mustered a smile. “Let me know if any more sell, okay?”

  She squeezed my shoulder. “Of course. Just enjoy yourself. It’s a great show.”

  “Thank you.”

  I’d expected to make at least a few thousand dollars at the show. To say I was disappointed would have been the understatement of the year. I felt completely defeated. When everyone began to file out of the gallery, I let my smile slip off my face and fell into a chair.

  “So,” Madison said, sitting down beside me. “Didn’t go well?”

  “Thousand bucks,” I said. “Only one painting sold.”

  She ran a soothing hand up and down my back. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  It took everything inside me not to cry. “It’s okay. It’ll go better next time.”

  “It will,” Madison said firmly. “I’m sure of it.”

  I leaned my head against her shoulder. “Thanks, Maddi.”

  She gave me a squeeze. “I’m sorry, but I gotta go. I have to get back to the club before it closes.”

  “Go, I’ll see you later.”

  “Hey, why don’t you come stay with me one day next week?” Madison offered. “We’ll go out and have fun.”

  “Fun in Vegas?” I asked with raised eyebrows. Although I could practically see the glow from the city every night, I hadn’t been to the city for fun in a while.

  “Yeah.” Madison laughed. “You remember that brightly lit place you used to go to all the time.”

  “I’ll try,” I said, but I didn’t mean it. Vegas was only twenty minutes away from my little apartment. It wasn’t far. Still, we both knew I didn’t have the time.

  “Love you,” Madison said as she headed toward the door.

  “Love you too,” I mumbled. “Be safe.”

  I watched as Madison disappeared outside. The gallery was now empty. Only the owner and her employees remained.

  “Should we ship your pieces?” the owner asked.

  I shook my head. “No, if you’ll just pack them up, I’ll take them with me tonight.”

  “Will do.”

  I sat still while they packed up my paintings and loaded them in my car. The only one missing was the landscape. The owner handed me the check, and I stared at it blankly. There was a time when one thousand dollars would have felt like a fortune to me, but now, I needed more. My mother needed more.

  As the last of my paintings was loaded up, I thanked the owner and walked to my car. I climbed inside and pulled out my cell phone. My night had already been so terrible that I didn’t think it could get any worse. I dialed Perry’s number and waited.

  “Hello.”

  I just went for it. “Where were you tonight?”

  “What?”

  “My show.” The words left me in one long breath. “You missed it.”

  “Mm… well, I’m still out of town.”

  No sorry. No nothing.

  “This is getting ridiculous,” I said under my breath.

  “What?” Perry asked.

  I raised my voice. “This was really important to me.” My show had gone so terribly that my mood was awful. I normally didn’t like to fight with him, but that night, I was almost itching for it.

  “I know, but—”

  “Why didn’t you care enough to be here?” I asked. “Why don’t you ever care anymore? You don’t come to my shows. You don’t call me when you’re out of town. When you are here, you’re always working. You never put any effort into our relationship anymore.”

  “Dani.” He said my name as if he was talking to a child. “That’s not fair.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair to me. I want to know what’s going on.”

  “I met someone.”

  Perry’s words hit me like a punch to the throat. I opened my mouth to speak, but my tongue was dry, and my throat felt constricted. I blinked and swallowed hard, trying to process what I just heard.

  “You what?” I finally asked.

  “I met someone,” he said again, the words coming out quicker now. “Dani, I know we’ve been together a long time now, but I just don’t think our relationship is going anywhere. We’re stagnant, and when I met this new woman, I felt such a connection with her. I didn’t realize how much was missing in our relationship until I met her.”

  Perry kept talking, but I didn’t hear anything else. I held the phone to my ear while my vision slowly became blurry. I blinked, but it didn’t help. It wasn’t until a few panting breaths later that I realized I was crying. Hot tears slid down my cheeks, and I couldn’t breathe. When I’d called him, I was ready for an argument. I thought we would fight it out, but I never imagined we would break up. His words were like daggers piercing my ears, and I couldn’t listen to them anymore.

  While he was still talking, I pulled the phone away from my ear and powered it off. The car was suddenly too silent, and I didn’t know what to do. I put the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine started up, but I stayed still. I sat in the parking lot, letting the tears flow freely for what felt like hours. It was close to midnight before I put the car in drive and drove home.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Talen

  I spent my entire week stressing over my father’s demands. Preoccupied with thoughts of him and his orders. I could barely focus on anything else. My mind constantly raced while I switched between anger and disgust. My life was my own, and yet he insisted that I live it by his rules. At twenty-eight years old, I was tired of having to answer to him. He was my father, but he was also my boss, and that prohibited me from arguing as much as I wanted. Still, the idea that I had to marry within a few weeks was sickening.

  I couldn’t believe that my father would go so far as to threaten my standing in the company or my financial security. I spent most of my life doing everything he said. I went to the college he chose, and I allowed him to pick my major. He laid down
orders, and I, like a good son and protégé, followed them without complaint, but he’d gone too far this time. There was no way I could find a wife and get married in less than a month. I had never been one for romance, but the idea of an arranged marriage made my skin crawl.

  When I remembered our conversation, I felt like throwing up. Not only did he insult me with his demands, but he actually admitted to marrying my mother for business. He all but said he never loved her. At first, I was livid. How dare he do something like that to her? Who did he think he was? But then again, I was certain my mother knew his reasons. She was an intelligent woman who wasn’t easily manipulated. If my father married her for the company, I had to believe she knew it. Somehow.

  Still, as the week progressed, I thought about her more and more. I hadn’t seen my mother in months. Gaston Pharmaceuticals was located in Henderson, Nevada, and my mother hated it. She often spent her time in other cities, living in the many houses my parents had acquired over the years. An undeniable privilege of wealth was the ability to distance herself from her spouse whenever she chose. Looking back, I realized that my parents had never been affectionate toward each other. I knew their marriage wasn’t the happiest, but it never occurred to me that it was all just a sham.

  On Friday evening, I paced around my apartment, trying to clear my head. It had been five days since my conversation with my father, and still, I felt angry. Every time I remembered his words, my heart pounded furiously, and my forehead began to sweat. Not for the first time, I wanted to know what it would feel like to hit him. I imagined punching his jaw and feeling it break beneath my knuckles. My father was a tyrant, and he always had been, but that didn’t make it any easier to take.

  As I tried to calm myself down, I decided to call my mom. I couldn’t remember the last time I talked to her.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said brightly when she picked up the phone.

  “Oh, my goodness, Talen!” she exclaimed. “Honey, we haven’t spoken in so long. How are you?”

  “I’m good,” I said, smiling. It was nice to hear her voice. I immediately felt calmer and more at ease. “Everything’s fine here. I just miss you.”

  “I miss you too,” she said warmly. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t sound well.”

  My mom could always pick up on my moods without much effort. She, unlike my dad, took the time to know me. Despite being absent a lot during my childhood, she made sure to spend time with me while she could. If she was at home, then she was with me. I loved her for it.

  “Things at work aren’t great,” I admitted. “Dad has all this stuff he wants me to do and I just, I don’t feel like I can.”

  “What stuff?”

  I opened my mouth to speak but quickly closed it again. Part of me wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to unload my problems onto her and let her deal with my dad, but I couldn’t. On the off chance that she didn’t know the real reason for her marriage, I didn’t want to be the one to tell her. I loved her too much to cause her that kind of pain.

  “The investors are coming next month,” I said simply. “He expects me to shape up my image before they arrive. He doesn’t want me spending time with Brandon anymore.”

  It was the truth, just not all of it. I felt guilty for hiding things from my mother, but I knew it wasn’t the right time to tell her everything. My week had already been bad enough.

  “Honey, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Your father just wants what’s best for you. I know it doesn’t often seem that way, but it’s the truth. He loves you very much, and he only wants you to succeed.”

  “Mom, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “Of course, I do,” she said firmly. “Jacob can be difficult. I know that better than anyone, but he’s a good man. Deep down, he just wants to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

  “He threatened to cut me off,” I said bluntly. “If I don’t do what he says, he’ll cut me off completely. From the business and everything else.”

  There was a pause. I could hear my mom breathing on the other end of the phone, but she didn’t speak. I knew her well enough to know that she was thinking. She didn’t know what to say to make me feel better and still remain supportive of my father. For years, she’d been put in the middle of us, and it wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve the stress we caused her.

  “It’s nothing,” I said before she could speak. “I’m just complaining. I’m sorry.”

  “You can always complain to me,” she promised. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “I’ll be okay. Change is just hard sometimes, but I can handle it.”

  “I know you can.” I could hear the smile in her voice. I was glad to make her happy, even if it was through lies.

  “How are you?” I asked her. “How’s everything going?”

  “I’m just fine. Spending time with the girls. I just organized an event for the children’s hospital, and it went perfectly, so that was good.”

  “Sounds great.” It wasn’t hard to sound happy for her. “That’s awesome, Mom.”

  “Thank you. I’m very proud of our success. We raised twice as much money this year.”

  That was impressive. “Wow.”

  “Oh, it was wonderful,” she gushed. “Talen, you would have loved it. It was magnificent.”

  She delved into the details of the event. I tried to listen, but I found it all deathly dull. My mother, Victoria Gaston, had been the head social chair among her friends for decades. Every event and fundraiser went through her, and she loved it. She loved being queen bee. It made her feel special, which she so deserved.

  “Then, Constance got drunk off brandy, and we all had to help get her home,” she continued. “It was humiliating and almost cost us quite a few donations, but I was able to smooth things over fairly well. Needless to say, Constance will not be invited next year.”

  “Wow,” I said again. “Drama among the socialites.”

  “Always,” she said seriously. “But what about you? Are you still doing that Big Brother program?”

  “I am,” I said, happy that she remembered. “I haven’t been assigned a little brother yet, but I’ve been training and getting to know everyone.”

  “When will you get your assignment?”

  “Soon, I hope.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” she cooed. “This is a step in the right direction for you, honey. It’s so wonderful that you want to give back.”

  I lifted a shoulder she couldn’t see. “I just thought it was time.”

  “Whoever your little brother is will be lucky to have you,” she promised.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “I have to go now, darling,” she said. “But we’ll talk soon, okay? Maybe you can come see me sometime.”

  “Of course.” I wished I could visit her now. “I’ll come visit really soon, Mom.”

  “Okay, honey. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye. I love you.”

  Her voice warmed even more. “I love you too.”

  When we hung up, I set my phone down on the coffee table and fell back on the couch. Talking to my mom made me feel better, but my good mood didn’t last. It wasn’t long before I felt miserable and defeated all over again.

  I couldn’t believe that my father would say something so horrible about my mother. Even if he did marry her for her social standing, how dare he admit that? Victoria Gaston was the only woman I knew who truly deserved happiness. After putting up with my father for so many years, she deserved better. I hated him for what he said.

  As I sat on the couch fuming over my father, my front door opened. I glanced over to see Brandon letting himself inside. I gave him a key to my place years ago, so he almost never knocked.

  “Hey,” he said, plopping down beside me. “What are we doing tonight?”

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t even have the energy to shrug. “Hadn’t planned on doing anything.”

  He gave me a concerned look. “What’s up?”

 
; I looked over at him. He was frowning. He could tell something was bothering me.

  “My fucking father. He’s sunk to new levels of douchebaggery.”

  Brandon propped his feet up on the coffee table. “What did he do this time?”

  “He ordered me to get married.” The words sounded like glass coming from between my teeth.

  Brandon blinked then stared at me with wide eyes. His mouth hung slightly open, and I grinned at his dumbfounded expression. I knew this would be his reaction.

  “M-married?” he stammered. “Like, death-do-us-part married?!”

  I nodded. “Yup. The investors are coming next month, and apparently, I need to be married before they arrive. I have a few weeks to find myself a wife. If I don’t, he’ll find one for me. So basically, I either have to find some desperate broad and convince her to marry me, or let my father arrange everything.”

  “This is some medieval shit,” Brandon said, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it. “Arranged marriage? What the actual fuck?”

  “I know. It’s bullshit. Oh, and I’m not supposed to hang out with you anymore.”

  “Me?” Brandon asked with raised eyebrows.

  “You’re a bad influence.”

  Brandon threw his head back and laughed. He couldn’t care less about my father or his opinions. My dad was right. Brandon was a bad influence, but it didn’t matter. Brandon was only amused by my dad’s insults.

  “So,” he said. “You have to get married and drop me? Is that it?”

  “Yup.” I nodded. “Otherwise, he’ll cut me off completely.”

  “Man, fuck him,” Brandon said. He bounded to his feet and paced around the living room. “What you need is a weekend away. You gotta get out of here. You need to get out of your head and relax. Your dad has you all tense, and it’s not good. Let’s just go.”

  “Where?” I asked blankly.

  “Anywhere!” Brandon said, throwing his hands in the air. “Who cares where? Let’s just get in the car and go. Unwind for a little while.”

  I stared at Brandon, thinking about my options. After a week of stressing over my father’s orders, I was ready to put everything behind me. I hated him for what he’d done, and I wanted nothing more than to piss him off. As I stared at my best friend, a smile began to form on my face. I grinned at him and nodded slowly.