by Tasha Fawkes
"Oh my God, oh my God," she gasped, over and over again. I caught my breath, turned her around and held her close to me, our hearts pounding in unison.
"Oh my God is right," I agreed.
Chapter 15
Karen
What the hell was I going to do now? I rode in the taxi back to my Manhattan apartment, to a world that really was quite a bit different from Ben's. I had never, not ever, considered the fact that I might grow attached to him, but now, watching the traffic, the people, and the buildings slide by, I realized, with an odd sensation in my stomach, that very idea. It was an unsettling sensation - half sick to my stomach, half excited. What was I supposed to do?
Was this my punishment for even agreeing to the plan in the first place? Finding somebody that I felt comfortable with, that I could be myself with, but one who would be completely unacceptable to my parents? I couldn't remember a time when I'd been happier than the last couple of times I had spent with him. He didn't try to impress me, didn't try to act like he was something other than who and what he was. A hard-working man who enjoyed the simple things in life. Simple things that I had never even considered. Family. Honesty… complete and truthful honesty. Kind of ironic in light of our arrangement.
No one before Ben had ever called me out for my often-outrageous behavior. No one had really cared to take the time to learn who I really was. Not even Daniel. Now that I thought back to my display at the church at his wedding, I felt nothing but shame and embarrassment. I had made a fool of myself, and why? To please my parents. To give them what they wanted. Did they once, even once, consider what I might want?
I shook my head. They had given me the material things, money in my bank account, rarely seeming to care what I did with it. I didn't get into trouble, didn't overindulge in alcohol – most of the time - and I didn't touch drugs. As upset as I was thinking about how my parents treated me, I also had to place much of the blame at my own feet. I had allowed it. I asked myself why, even though I didn't really have to. I knew why. Because the thought of saying no to my parents, of going against them, disobeying them, might endanger that very same bank account, my lifestyle, the things that I had gotten so used to doing without a second thought. Could I live without the fancy restaurants and the luxurious spa treatments and the clothing? Of course, I could. Did I want to? Not in the least.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the quiet dinners, the time spent with Ben, were turning out to be much more enjoyable than I had imagined. Even over the excitement of the clubs and the dancing and the hookups. Not that I did that very often, and not once have I since my doomed engagement to Daniel. When I was with a guy, I was with him. I didn't play around.
But was I really 'with Ben'? Even though I knew this thing with him had to be curtailed at some point, I still didn't want to play around or look for someone else. Not even Ryan Delaney. I frowned just thinking of him. He'd called me twice. The first time, I had told him I was late for an appointment and that I'd call him back. I didn't. The second time, just before I got to Ben's apartment last night, I had let another of his calls go to voicemail. I sighed, thinking that I would at least have to be polite enough to return that call.
Just as the cab pulled up to my apartment building, my cell phone rang. I thought it was probably Ryan calling again. What would I say if he asked me out on a date? What could I do about it? I was surprised when I glanced at my screen and saw that it was my dad calling. I answered.
"Hi Dad, what—"
"Where are you?"
"In front of my apartment building, why?" My heart skipped a beat. I knew that tone of voice. He was mad about something.
"I'm upstairs, standing in the hallway in front of your apartment. Where've you been?"
My heart started really pounding now. My dad was at my apartment? He rarely came by, and usually, it was only after I'd done something that displeased him. My mind raced. Did he know? What did he want? Was it about Ryan Delaney? Why—
"Karen, are you there?"
"Yes, Dad, I'm getting out of the cab right now. I'll be up in just a few minutes." The call disconnected. I paid the cabbie and then climbed out, a feeling of dread settling over me. My stomach turned somersaults. What was he doing here? Was it possible that Ryan had tattled to his parents, or perhaps even mine, that I had been brushing him off? Why would he? We'd just met a few nights ago. I entered my apartment building, walked across the black and white marble-tiled floor to the dual-elevator bank. I pushed a button, waited a moment and then sighed as a car door dinged open. I took the elevator up to my floor, the hollow feeling in my stomach growing, my mouth dry, my nerves on edge. I didn't know if my mom was with him, but I hoped not. I didn't want to have to deal with both of them at the same time.
As the elevator neared my floor, I heaved another shaky sigh, shook my hands nervously, and then pasted a pleasant smile on my face as the car floated to a stop, again dinged softly, and then the doors swished open. I breezed out, pulling my keys from my purse, accelerating my breathing as if I had just rushed from somewhere and was running late. The fact that I didn't have a job to get to was beside the point. As I glanced up from my purse, my stomach clenched still harder. He wasn't looking at me but staring down at the carpeted floor in front of my door. I knew he had heard the ding from the elevator car. This didn't bode well. Nevertheless, I didn't act like anything was wrong.
"Hi, Dad! What brings you here?"
He gave me a top to toe look, and I experienced more than a fleeting moment of uncertainty. He looked pissed, his jaw set firmly, his face a bit on the red side, his eyes slightly narrowed. He had shoved his hands in his pants pockets, but they looked fisted to me. Oh God. Could he tell that I had just spent the night with Ben? No, don't be silly, I told myself. Still, I reviewed. Had I not brushed my hair out well enough? Had I missed a button on my blouse? I cursed myself when I felt the heat of a blush began to rise in my cheeks and I covered it up by pretending to cough as I fingered my keys. Not much of a stretch there, I only had the two, one for my apartment, the other my car key. Stupid. I glanced back up at him, but he merely stared at me now, and without saying a word, flicked his hand toward the door.
He never wanted to talk in the hallway, and I understood. Even though this apartment cost thousands of dollars a month, doors were still doors, people were still people, and it wasn't unusual for people to eavesdrop. I continued to smile as I unlocked my door, stepped in, and then opened it wider as he entered. I closed it softly behind me, placing my keys back in my purse.
"Can I get you something to drink, Dad? I can make some coffee, or I think I've got some orange juice—"
He spun around and faced me so abruptly that I took a step back. His face was deep red now, his bushy eyebrows pulled down over his eyes.
"How dare you!"
My eyes widened as my heart thundered again in my chest. Nevertheless, I continued my bluff. "What? What did I do?"
He pointed. "Sit down and I'll be sure to explain."
The feeling in my stomach was now close to roiling. Good thing I hadn't eaten anything yet or I'd probably be tasting it now. I had an upset stomach and heartburn all at the same time. I placed my purse down beside the arm of the sofa and sat down, glancing first out the window at what had just moments ago seemed a beautiful morning out there – ruined now - and then back at him. He rounded the sofa in the coffee table, pacing in the middle of my living room.
"How long did you actually think you could get away with it?"
Oh God. He knew. I felt the blood drain from my face and I swallowed, glanced out the window once more, and then back at him. "What?" I croaked.
"Don't play stupid, Karen. Did you honestly think that I wouldn't check on him?"
"If you're talking about Ben, what difference—"
"Not another word, Karen, not until I'm finished, do you hear me?"
I nodded as the sinking, disappointed feeling settled within me once again. My pleasant day, the wonderful m
emories of the night before, my dismay over my growing attraction to Ben; all of it fled out the window at the expression on my dad's face. I knew better than to interrupt again. Getting him even angrier would serve no purpose, so I listened. He paced back and forth in front of the couch, occasionally glaring in my direction.
"I found out the truth the morning after you brought him to dinner. To our table! What the hell do you think you're doing?" He didn't wait for an answer. "He's not from a rich or well to do, or well-connected family—"
"I never said he was," I interrupted, forgetting my usual standard silence.
"He's a commodities trader, and not a very good one at that, from what I could see. He's not even a New Yorker, Karen! He's a farmer!"
"That's not fair!" I protested. "Not everyone from Oklahoma is a farmer." What was wrong with me? I knew better than to argue with him, but I didn't like the way he was talking about Ben. I had to defend him, didn't I? Again, he turned to me, his chest rising and falling, his face growing mottled.
"Do you really think that I or your mother is so stupid? You have no business running around with him, and even worse, pretending that you're serious about him, trying to pull a fast one on us!"
"I'm not pretending, Dad—"
He sneered. "The only reason I didn't call you on it right away was because I was hoping you'd get it out of your system."
He shook his head, the expression on his face the epitome of disappointment. I went numb inside. Shut off all, or most of my feelings. He would never hear me. He might listen, but he would never hear…
"And don't bother lying to me and telling me you were out shopping. I know that you were at his apartment."
He closed his eyes and shook his head as if I had committed the worst crime in the world. "Dad, you don't understand—"
"What I understand is that my daughter, who has been given everything she could ever want, is sneaking around behind my back, her mother's back, sleeping around with no good bums—"
"I wasn't sneaking, Dad, and he's not a bum! He works hard and—"
"You shut up now, Karen, and I mean it. Not another word or I'm going to lose my temper with you."
I sat in dismay, shocked. He'd never been this angry. Had he followed me to Ben's house yesterday? Or worse, was he having me followed? He had to, or he couldn't have learned so much. Had he talked to Courtney? No. Courtney would never betray me, no matter what. I had known that they would do some digging around into his background, but I didn't expect it to happen so soon.
"Now you listen to me, young lady. If you refuse to bend to my will and defy me, refuse to enter into this relationship with Ryan Delaney, which your mother and I have worked very hard to arrange after the fiasco and embarrassment following your scandalous behavior with Daniel and that horrid public display at the church, I'm warning you that you're not going to like the repercussions."
I stared, a myriad of emotions surging through me. This was my father! He had actually used those words? Bend to my will? He was threatening me? Forcing me into yet another of his stupid merger marriages for the sake of money?
"Dad, I don't—"
"You have a choice to make Karen."
I felt bile rose in my throat and I had to swallow it back. I had to stifle my urge to stand and scream at him, tell him how horrible I felt about how he was treating me. I wanted to ask him why he couldn't just love me for who I was? Why couldn't he be more like Ben's parents? Why couldn't he just love me? Why couldn't he accept me? Why couldn't either of them support me? I felt heat flood my face and I started to stand, my hands balled into fists at my side. I had to—
"You sit right back down, young lady, and listen."
He stepped closer to the couch, practically towering over me, his index finger pointed at my face. I felt powerless. Helpless. I felt lost and alone, and not just a little bit scared because I had a feeling I knew what that ultimatum was going to be.
"Either you end things with Ben or you're going to be cut off completely. And I mean completely! You'll be on your own. You'll have to make your own way. I'll cancel the lease on this apartment so fast that it will make your head spin, do you understand me?" He paused to take a breath. "Do you know how many thousands of dollars your mother and I put into your account every month? We pay your rent! We pay for your parties, your spa treatments, your clothes. Not once have you ever thought about us! And now this?"
His tirade brought tears to my eyes and I desperately blinked them back. Is that all he could say to me? How much money they had given me over the years? How much money I had cost them? I'd never-- My heart pounded so hard I was sure it would burst. This wasn't love. This was ownership. No words I could say would change his attitude, or that of my mother. They were parents in name only and at that moment, I realized it with an overwhelming sense of sadness and disappointment.
"I thought so," he said, turning to leave. He reached for the door and turned and spoke over his shoulder. "End it, Karen. Today. Your mother and I are moving forward with the marriage arraignments with Ryan Delaney." He paused, opened the door, and left a parting shot. "And you'd better not ruin it this time."
The door closed softly behind him. I sat on the couch, frozen, numb, and confused. I glanced around my apartment and with a sinking feeling, realized how much I truly had to lose.
Chapter 16
Ben
I was taking a big chance and I knew it, but sometimes, you just have to take a chance, don't you? Back home in high school, I used to take my dates out on picnics. It may sound corny, but all but one of them loved it. It was different from what everybody else did, hanging out at the local Dairy Queen or watching football practice on the bleachers at school. My prior fiancée, though a native Oklahoman herself, hadn't really liked to do anything outside, so when I wanted to do something special for her, I would make an indoor picnic: I'd lay a flannel blanket on the floor of my apartment living room, get a snack platter, a bottle of wine, and maybe even a dessert, depending.
At any rate, I believed that picnics are my go to in regard to initiating serious alone time, getting to know my dates better. After all, who walked close to a couple sitting alone and having a private picnic on the beach, or a park? Sometimes, if I were lucky, those picnics ended in a bit of romantic necking that, a couple of times, had ended up going a bit further. I remember ducking into a nearby copse of trees one time—anyway, I decided to take a chance. How would someone like Karen feel about a picnic? I wondered if she'd ever been on one. Only one way to find out.
I planned on spoiling her big time. Another dose of my home cooking: fried chicken, homemade potato salad, a bottle of wine, of course, and a fruit salad. What could go wrong with that? I had even stopped down at the local florist and bought her a bouquet of daisies. Not roses, not carnations, but daisies. They reminded me of home, plus they were bright, yellow and white, and cheerful.
Then maybe after the picnic we could go to a movie, something totally unexpected and not typical for her. I can imagine that someone like Karen had been wined and dined in the finest restaurants, been taken to the theater or whatever. I knew I couldn't compete with that, but maybe she would appreciate something a little more toned down, private, and intimate.
I had been pleasantly pleased when I called this morning with the invitation and she agreed, although I did hear the subdued tone of her voice. I wanted to ask her if something was bothering her, but figured that if she wanted to know, she'd tell me. I told her to meet me at the south end of Strawberry Fields near the Imagine mosaic, with easy access from seventy-second street on the west side of the park. From there, we would have a good view of the lake and maybe afterward, we might stroll over to the Wisteria arbor, maybe even visit the zoo on the southeast side along Fifth Avenue instead of a movie.
I arrived at the park at one o'clock, thirty minutes ahead of time, but I wanted to have time to set up. I lounged on the picnic blanket, waiting, a smile lifting the corners of my mouth as I anticipated her surprise. I hope she'd
like it and appreciate the trouble I'd gone to. I knew better than to get my hopes up, but things had been going well between us. Of course, I was still a little disturbed about my mom's reaction, and knew instinctively that it was shared by my dad. Maybe in the coming days and weeks, they would get to know Karen a little better. I had no desire to go back to her house and get to know her parents better.
Finally, after watching numerous passersby, I saw Karen approach. She wore a pair of cropped jeans, flats, and a three-quarter sleeve linen blouse. She looked tired, as if she hadn't slept much the night before. She didn't smile, but waved back when I waved. Her eyes did widen a bit in surprise when she saw the spread.
"A picnic?"
"Okay with you?"
"Sure." She shrugged as she sat down, legs to one side, the epitome of decorum.
Her expression was nothing if not reserved. She looked a bit on the pale side, a tinge of dark circles under her eyes that makeup didn't hide. I knew for sure now that something was bothering her, which surprised me in and of itself. I knew her well enough to know when something disturbed her? She seemed... if not withdrawn, somewhat cool. For a moment, my heart sank. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. Then again, it had to be said. I wasn't going to tiptoe around the subject. It was one way or the other, all or nothing.
"When you said you wanted to meet me here, I had no idea you planned a picnic," she said, glancing at the spread.
"You bet." I grinned. "Fried chicken, potato salad…" Again, I caught an almost pained look in her expression. I decided to play my cards, to lay them out on the table and see whether she called or folded. "Karen, this is my way of trying to show you that I've grown to care for you, that I'd like us to move beyond this… this plan of pretending that we're a couple—" She lifted her hand and looked at me.
"It's been a mistake, Ben. A terrible mistake."
