A Portrait of Emily

by J. P. Bowie

  “That’s so nice of you Peter. I think he’d like that.”

  “Okay. I’ll check with Jeff and then we can set a date.” He paused for a moment then decided to broach the subject that was bothering him the most. “I wish you’d tell me what troubles you, though. Here you are, worrying over your brother and it’s obvious you’re hurting inside about something.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Obvious?”

  “To me anyway. Don’t you feel some kind of connection between us Emily? Every time we’re together, I get this sensation that our minds have met somehow. Just for an instant I get a glimpse of something that has really haunted you for a long time—something you’ve kept secret.”

  Emily’s face paled as she stared at him. “Well… I’ve felt very close to you ever since we met. But how could you know about that?”

  “I don’t know what that is. Only that it really troubles you. Perhaps if I knew, I could help somehow.”

  “Oh Peter, I can’t tell you—it’s too terrible.” Tears sprang into her eyes as she looked at him. He put his arm around her shoulders and held her close.

  “There, there,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Forget I ever asked.”

  “If only I could tell you, but I haven’t even been able to tell Jerry. I think he’d stop loving me if he ever found out.”

  This was a lot more serious than Peter had imagined. What on earth could possibly stop Jerry from loving her? Only if she had murdered someone at the very least. He almost laughed at the idea, but it was obviously something of which she was terribly ashamed.

  She looked up at Peter again, her eyes searching his face as if trying to find the courage to tell him. Finally she whispered, “Will you promise you won’t think less of me, if I tell you?”

  “Of course I promise.”

  “And you’ll keep this our secret?”

  “I promise.”

  She rose and walked over to her portrait. She stood staring at Peter’s work for a long time then she turned to look at him and said almost in a monotone, “My father sexually molested me, and my sister, when we were children.”

  Peter sat stock still. As hard as he tried he was unable to control the horror he knew was plainly etched on his face.

  She shrank back from that look. “I knew I should never have told you. Now you’re disgusted with me.”

  Peter rose and walked swiftly over to where she stood. He took her into his arms. “No, not with you. With that bastard that calls himself your father.” She pressed her face to his chest and let out a long shuddering sigh. He rocked her gently in his arms. “Does your mother know about this?”

  “Yes, but she and Paula are in total denial of the whole thing. Anthony wanted to kill him when I told him, but he was just a little boy at the time, just a year older than me. He hates my father as much as I do.”

  Peter groaned with frustration. What could he do about this? Nothing. He had promised her he would keep her secret. But oh, how he’d love to punch Hastings’ supercilious face just once. He knew in that first and only meeting with Charles Hastings that the man was capable of evil doing, but this went beyond anything he could have imagined—and the mother knew. God Almighty, what kind of a woman was she to allow this to happen to her daughters? Why on earth hadn’t she blown the whistle on him years ago? He shook his head in bewilderment as his mind began to take in all the implications of what had just been told to him. The damage this must have done to each one of them—to the very fabric of the family.

  “How can you go on living in that house with him?”

  “He stopped every attempt I made to leave when I was underage. Then, when I realized he knew how much I detested him, it gave me some form of perverse pleasure to stick around and let him feel my hatred. Now, I just want to marry Jerry and get out.”

  “Why don’t you and Jerry move in together?”

  “We’ve actually decided to do that. It’s becoming really unbearable there and the other night Jerry and my father got into it. So now it’s just a matter of finding a place. Jerry has a realtor working on it.”

  “Remember what I said—if, in the meantime you and Jerry need to get away, you’re always welcome here.”

  “Thank you, Peter. I’ve been going back and forth about whether I should tell Jerry or not. I asked my sister Paula and she looked at me as if I had three heads. She’s never told her husband and won’t even admit it to herself anymore. Somehow she’s managed to wipe it from her memory.”

  “Can’t say I blame her. It’s not something I’d want to live with in my head. You’re a very brave girl and yes, I think you should tell him. He deserves to know what you’ve been through. And for the life of me I can’t imagine him turning away from you because of it. I don’t know Jerry well at all, but he struck me as being a very compassionate man.”

  “He is the sweetest guy I’ve ever known.”

  “And he loves you.”

  “Yes, he does love me.”

  “Then there’s nothing to worry about now, is there?”

  She looked up at him and shook her head. Then she walked over to get her purse and pulled some Kleenex out. Peter watched her as she dabbed her eyes and tried to smile at him.

  Well, he thought, I was right. But even I didn’t guess just how terrible it really is. What a family.

  § § § §

  That night, try as he might, Peter could not fall asleep. The conversation with Emily hung like a dark shadow over his mind. He lay on his back comforted by the sound of Jeff’s steady breathing and the slight pressure of his hand resting on his chest. Gently, he stroked the back of Jeff’s hand and felt his fingers curl in response.

  “Why are you awake?” Jeff’s voice was muffled by the pillow.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

  Instead, Jeff sat up, snapped on the bedside lamp, and looked at him with concern. “You’ve been worried about something all night.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

  “I can’t tell you. I promised someone. I can’t tell.”

  “Emily, right?” Jeff began to stroke Peter’s chest as he spoke.

  “You’re too shrewd by half. Yes, Emily.”

  “Well, she was here this afternoon and you’ve been quiet all evening—which is so unlike you.” Jeff continued his caressing. “It was elementary, my dear Peter.”

  “I’ll give you a week to stop doing that.” Peter writhed sensually under Jeff’s touch.

  “Don’t change the subject.” Jeff removed his hand. “C’mon, tell me what the big dark secret is.”

  “It’s worse than I thought.”

  He knew he could trust Jeff with his life, so what was the point of trying to hide anything from him? This would go no further, he knew, and after all they had promised each other at the start of their relationship there would be no secrets between them.

  “That creepy father of hers molested her, and her sister, when they were kids.”

  Jeff’s expression hardened. “That bastard should be in jail. Of all the vile things a man can do, molesting children is the worst.” He sat straight up in bed, glaring at the wall, fuming inwardly. Then he turned to look at Peter. “God damn him,” he hissed. “I knew there was something I hated about that guy.”

  “Jeff, please don’t let on you know about this.” Peter grasped his arm, alarmed at his lover’s reaction.

  “No, no of course I won’t. I wouldn’t betray Emily’s trust in you, but it just kills me to think someone can get away with this, Peter.” He swung his lean, powerful body out of bed and pulled on a robe. “I can’t go back to sleep for the moment.” He cinched the robe about his waist. “Can I get you some juice or something?”

  “Wait.” Peter jumped out of bed. “I’ll come down with you.”

  They went down to the kitchen together, Jeff’s hand on Peter’s shoulder.

  “Sorry I came unglued like that,” Jeff said as he poured them two glasses of or
ange juice and handed one to Peter. “That’s just about the worst kind of news I could ever hear. Remember I told you when we first met I worked with homeless and displaced kids in LA?”

  Peter nodded.

  “Well, so many of them had run away from just that kind of horrendous environment. One little kid told me she’d been raped by her father and three brothers since she was five years old. How in hell can anyone put a decent life together after that kind of experience?”

  Peter was touched to see tears glistening in Jeff’s eyes. He knew this news had come as a shock to him, bringing with it memories he’d rather soon forget.

  “Trouble is,” Jeff continued, “most kids never tell. They can be so traumatized by the whole thing, they just curl up and die inside or they live in denial.”

  “Emily said her sister Paula has done just that. Emily’s mother apparently knows about this and just pretends it never happened.”

  “That’s typical too. Remember, this is something most people could never bear to have made public. Even within the family most relatives would never know what was going on. How does Emily cope with this?”

  “Well, obviously she’s a heck of a lot stronger than she looks. She even said she got some kind of perverse pleasure by just letting her father know how much she hates him.”

  Jeff grimaced. “Time for her to get out of there. Too much hatred is no good for anyone. It can twist a person inside out—especially if they’re enjoying it.”

  “I’d hate to think she was enjoying it,” Peter murmured, almost to himself. “Anyway, she and Jerry are planning on getting a place together soon.”

  “Good.” Jeff drained the last of his orange juice. “Tell me, does Jerry know about this?”

  “Not yet. She’s been afraid he might react badly, but I told her she should. If he loves her enough he’s not going to walk away.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “You think it could be a problem?”

  “Hey, people react strangely sometimes. Especially when they’re faced with something so alien to their own way of life.”

  Peter thought for a moment. Had he given Emily the wrong advice? Should he have just kept his mouth shut and let Emily decide for herself? He’d never forgive himself if what he had encouraged her to do backfired and left her having to face this trauma alone again.

  “Now I’m worried,” he said aloud.

  “Don’t be. We could tell he adores her. It’ll probably be all right.” He put their glasses in the sink. “Let’s go back to bed. Don’t forget, we’re driving Andrew and David to the airport tomorrow morning.”

  “Yikes, I had forgotten that little detail. Let’s go.”

  When they had climbed back into bed, Jeff slipped his arms around Peter and held him tightly. He pressed his lips to Peter’s ear and whispered, “I love you. In all this madness that sometimes surrounds us, you are my sanity.”

  Peter laid his head on Jeff’s chest and returned his embrace. Finally, they slept.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Joey could not believe what had happened the night before. He was still furious when he awoke. How dare that boy stand him up? He had never waited for anyone before. He had wasted a whole hour of his time last night and the bastard never showed. Inside his fury, Joey felt despair creep in as he realized he had no way of getting hold of Adam. He had no phone number, no address, not even a last name. If Adam decided not to get in touch with him again, it was over and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Sullenly, he pushed back the sheet and got out of bed. He stood in front of a full length mirror and stared at his naked reflection. How could this kid not want him? He was, he thought, still beautiful at thirty. His body was in magnificent shape, sculpted to perfection through many long hours in the gym. His smooth, honey colored skin was still supple and wrinkle free. He ran his hands through his rich black hair and watched, pleased, as the waves fell almost exactly back into place. Even first thing in the morning, I’m perfect, he thought.

  So what was wrong? Why was the kid stringing him along like this? Hadn’t he made it abundantly clear that he was in love with him?

  “Christ!” Joey muttered, looking down at his cock. “Maybe I’m not big enough.”

  No one had ever complained before, quite the contrary; and besides, he thought smugly, it was a match for Adam’s any day. So what the hell was the problem? Joey grunted in disgust, threw on a pair of shorts, and shuffled into the kitchen to make some coffee. He sat down waiting for the coffee to brew, his head in his hands then jumped as his phone shrilled nearby.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Bob.”

  Disappointment hung heavily on Joey’s voice as he replied. “What do you want?”

  “Just thought I’d let you know your buddy’s check cleared so you’re paid up for the next three months.”

  “That’s a reason to call me?” Joey’s dislike for the man soured his words.

  “Hey, I could have thrown you out anyway, you fuckin’ ingrate.”

  “Go to hell, Bob. You got your money, now leave me alone.”

  “Listen, Joey…” Bob’s tone was suddenly wheedling. “Don’t let’s you and me fall out over all this. I miss you Joey. Couldn’t we get together tonight?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Why? You still seeing that spoiled rich kid?”

  “Rich kid? He’s not rich.”

  “That’s all you know—and here I thought you were so close.”

  Curiosity got the better of Joey. “How do you know this?”

  “I was talking to a guy at a bar the other night and he pointed out your Adam. He was pretty drunk, dancing all by himself in a corner. The guy said he had been talking to him earlier and he’d told him his father was some big mucky muck in the trading business. Worth millions apparently.”

  Joey was silent, his mind racing. He had never imagined Adam to be that well off. Yes, he wore nice clothes, but no jewelry to speak of and he had never seen his car. Could Bob be right about this—or was he just making this up to piss him off?

  “Well…” Bob sniggered. “I’d thought for sure you’d know that little detail about the love of your life. I know how important money is to you.”

  “Shut up Bob. Go annoy someone else.” Joey slammed the phone down and jumped to his feet in frustration. “Shit!” First, he was afraid Adam was dumping him and now he’d found out the kid was wealthy. Very wealthy, according to Bob. Just his luck.

  He had to find Adam and tell him how much he loved him. It was even more important now.

  § § § §

  LAX was mercifully not the congested mess it could have been as Jeff and Peter accompanied David and Andrew into the terminal.

  Andrew headed for the bar. “Just time for a farewell drink.”

  Peter raised an eyebrow. “This early?”

  “It’s already lunch time in New York,” Andrew replied.

  “Let’s get some coffee.” David took Andrew’s arm. “You can have a drink on the plane.”

  “I need one to get on the plane.”

  David sighed. “He’s not kidding either. He’ll be a nervous wreck without at least a glass of wine.”

  “Okay,” Jeff said. “We’ll have coffee and watch Andrew get drunk enough to board the plane.”

  “You guys,” Andrew whined. “I can’t help it if flying scares me shitless.”

  Peter chuckled. “Well, you have David’s hand to hold…among other things.” He rolled his eyes as Andrew ordered an extra large glass of Chardonnay from the bartender who had suggested it—“For just two dollars more.”

  The four friends were doing their best to be light hearted about this imminent departure, but when the time came for David and Andrew to get in line and go through security, Peter and Andrew made quite a spectacle of themselves as they hugged for so long people began to stare. David and Jeff stood quietly by trying not to look embarrassed as they watched their respective lovers say goodbye.

 
“Call us as soon as you get to the apartment,” Peter yelled at their retreating backs. He gave Jeff a sheepish smile. “I’m going to miss them so much.”

  “I’d never have guessed,” Jeff said wryly. He put a comforting arm round Peter’s shoulders and led him to the escalators.

  On the way back to Laguna, Peter remembered the invitation he’d given Emily. “Oh, by the way, I suggested to Emily that we all get together sometime soon for dinner. I thought we could have them over and include her brother, Anthony.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Have you met him?”

  “No. Emily told me he’s gay. She was quite funny actually. Asked me if we knew any eligible gay men he could meet.”

  “That’s all he’d need. The two of us trying to play match makers.”

  “I couldn’t think of anyone anyway. Most people we know are coupled already. Do you know anyone?”

  “Let’s not go there, Peter. Just invite him for dinner. We have no idea what kind of guy he is or what interests he might have.”

  “Well, he’s just out of military school; that much I know. Maybe he’s still into discipline and stuff.”

  “Oh great. Let’s invite some masterful type in leather then.”

  “You know anyone like that?”

  “If I did, I’d keep quiet about it. No telling what you’d get up to.”

  Peter punched Jeff’s arm in protest. “I do kind of go for the masterful type, though.” He smiled slyly. “That’s why I chose you.”

  “I thought you kind of forced yourself on me, actually.”

  “Huh. Like you put up much of a fight. Okay, let’s get serious. Would Thursday night be good? Supposing they can make it, of course.”

  “Thursday’s fine. You should invite Eve, too. It’ll even up the boy/girl quotient a bit and they’d all get along, I think.”

  “Good idea. I’ll make the arrangements when we get home. Do you have to go back to work?”

  “Yeah, unfortunately. I have an appointment with Durable Insurance Company. They want me to check out some claims for them.”

  “Sounds boring.”