A Portrait of Emily

by J. P. Bowie

  “Yes?” he snapped irritably as the intercom buzzed nearby.

  “Are you coming down for dinner, Charles?”

  “No. Have what’s-her-name bring me something up on a tray. I have some business to attend to.” He could never remember their maids’ names. They came and went too quickly these days. He didn’t care why. Probably couldn’t stand his wife. Well, he hadn’t been able to stand her for years. Only good thing about her was she didn’t get in his way. Knew when to shut up, too. Best for her that she did.

  “It’s the maid’s night off, Charles.” His wife’s carping voice irritated him even more. “I’ll bring something up if you insist on staying there.”

  “I’ll come down.” Damned nuisance of a woman. Now she’d waste his time complaining and whining. Well, he’d have her make him a drink or two. That would help. Sighing heavily, he plodded downstairs to the dining room.

  “Where’re the kids?” he asked his wife, seeing her sitting at the table alone.

  “Both out.”

  “I suppose Emily’s with that Jerry again?”

  “Of course. Anthony went somewhere...” Patricia hesitated for a moment. “I’m worried about him, Charles.”

  “Don’t be, he’s a big boy. Doesn’t need his mother at his heels anymore.”

  “What would you know? You pay no attention to him.”

  “He doesn’t pay any attention to me, you mean.” Hastings glared at his wife angrily. “I tried to talk some sense into him about coming into the business with me. Wouldn’t hear of it, damned rude kid. Get me a drink, would you?”

  Patricia rose from the table and crossed over to the bar. She looked at her husband’s reflection in the mirrored wall as she said, “He’s troubled by something. Do you know what it is?”

  “No, how would I? He never tells me anything.”

  She brought Hastings his drink and set it down in front of him, then stood looking at him.

  “What?”

  “I think you do know, Charles. He intimated as much to me the other night.”

  “What the hell are you blabbering about?” For a moment, Hastings felt a tremor of misgiving. He had never seen this look of determination on his wife’s face before. What had that kid told her?

  “If you’ve done something to hurt Anthony again I will never forgive you, Charles.”

  Hastings flung down his napkin and rose from the table in a fury. Gulping back his drink, he strode to the bar and poured himself another. “Look…I don’t come home here after a long hard day of keeping you and those two ingrates in luxury to have you cross examine me about something that has no relevance. Now shut up! I’m going back to my room where I can enjoy peace and quiet.”

  Patricia cringed under his anger, but as she watched him leave, she knew she had been right. Something had happened between Anthony and him. Something that had scarred her son in some way. She was determined now, more than ever, to find out what it was.

  § § § §

  Jerry smiled at Emily across the table of the little Italian restaurant that had become their special place to have dinner and be by themselves.

  “Good news today. Les, the realtor guy I know, has two places for us to look at tomorrow. One with an ocean view.”

  “Sounds wonderful. You know I can’t wait for us to move in together.”

  “Me too. Once you’re out of that house, things will be a lot better for you…and for us.”

  “Jerry, there’s something I want to tell you. Something I feel it’s only right you should know.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s something that happened to me a long time ago when I was a little girl.”

  “I’ll bet you were the cutest little thing.” Jerry grinned at her. “With little bows and ribbons in your hair and….”

  “Jerry, this is serious…and I’m not sure how to begin.”

  “What’s wrong, darling?” Jerry squeezed her hand. “You know there’s nothing you can’t tell me.”

  “It’s about my father, Jerry. He—he did things to me when I was little.”

  Jerry’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of things Emily? You don’t mean; he abused you?”

  Emily nodded miserably.

  “You mean sexually?” Jerry whispered in anguish.

  She nodded again, unable to speak. Tears started to fill her eyes and she rose to her feet. “I have to get out of here!” She ran from the restaurant. Jerry threw some money down on the table and rushed after her.

  “Emily—” He ran into the street after her. “Wait!”

  “I shouldn’t have told you,” she cried as he caught up with her.

  “Calm down.” He took her hand in his. “Let’s walk a little.”

  They walked slowly away from where Jerry had parked his car.

  I have to get my head together, he thought. That bastard Hastings—how could he have done something like this?

  He looked at Emily and felt wretched that he could not find the words to make her feel better. Despite the love he still felt for her, something had gone from him. Something that he had held most dear about her had been taken from him. He knew he was being selfish and unfeeling, but he just couldn’t help himself.

  Emily put her hand on his arm and looked up at him, her face still wet from her tears.

  “It’s changed, hasn’t it?” she asked him quietly. “How you feel about us, has changed.” His silence was her answer. “And I thought you would understand.”

  “Emily, please. Give me a little time to deal with this. You just broadsided me with this. It’s not an easy thing to accept, that you….” He faltered and fell silent.

  “That I’m not the sweet innocent virgin you believed me to be?”

  “Not that, no. I just can’t… Damn it all to hell, he’s ruined everything, the bastard.”

  “He’s done more than that, Jerry. Much more than that.” She turned back toward the car. “Please take me home now, Jerry.”

  Surrounded by a miserable silence, they drove up the Coast road. Jerry glanced at her as she looked out the car’s side window. You are a complete jerk, he berated himself, yet he couldn’t bring himself to reach across and touch her to show her he cared.

  What had happened to him? What part of him was so offended by what she had told him that he could not find it in himself to tell her he still loved her—and everything would be all right? His throat was dry and hot, his head spun with a thousand thoughts, but worst of all was the image of Emily and her father…doing it!

  He gasped aloud as this vision impaled itself upon his mind. His hands slipped from the steering wheel and the car swerved dangerously close to the median.

  “Jerry!” Emily cried out in alarm.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, gaining control again. Nothing more was said until he parked the car on the driveway outside her home. They looked at each other sadly for a moment.

  “Just give me some time Emily, please? I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  She nodded and opened the car door. There was no goodnight kiss. He watched her as she walked to the front door, opened it, and disappeared inside.

  As he drove out onto the street, Anthony’s car pulled in. Jerry acknowledged Anthony’s cheery “Hi!” with a desultory wave then drove off.

  Neither Emily nor Jerry could have imagined that this evening was about to become an even bigger nightmare.

  § § § §

  Emily walked slowly upstairs. From her father’s room she could hear his TV blaring. She wanted to go in there and kill him. Once again he had ruined her life. He deserved to die. She paused on the landing, taken aback by this overpowering feeling of hate. She shook herself and turned to walk the few steps to her own room. The door to her father’s bedroom opened and he staggered out onto the landing.

  “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you to come home. You and I need to have a little talk, young lady.”

  “We have nothing to talk about,” Emily snapped, unlocking her door.

  Her f
ather lurched over and grabbed her by the shoulders. He reeked of bourbon. Viciously, he slapped her hard across the face and pushed her into her room.

  “You’ll do as I say!” He ripped her jacket open. “Time you and I had one for old time’s sake. Let’s see if that wimp you’re engaged to will want you after this.”

  Emily could not believe this was happening. Her father intended to force himself on her. She opened her mouth to scream then she saw Anthony appear in the doorway. He strode across the room and pulled his father away from her. Violently, he shoved him back against the wall, his face a mask of hatred and disgust. He put his arm around Emily to protect her.

  “You touch her again and you’re dead,” he snarled at his father.

  The older man sneered. “What’s this? Finally grown a pair?”

  “Slut!”

  Both Anthony and Emily gaped at their mother as she appeared in the doorway, her face twisted with rage.

  “My daughter, the whore—up to your old tricks again.”

  “What are you talking about, Mom?” Anthony stepped in front of her.

  “She started this. I saw her enticing him into her room, just like she used to.”

  “That’s crazy,” Anthony exclaimed. “You know better than that.”

  “She and her sister both,” Patricia continued to rant. “Both of them flaunting themselves all over the place every night, inveigling him with their naughty ways. Nasty little girls.”

  Anthony looked with despair from his mother to where his father stood, swaying drunkenly.

  “You despicable excuse for a human being,” he rasped. “Look what you’ve done to us all.”

  His father glared at him, but the drink had got the better of him. He could not form the words he needed to berate his son. He spluttered incoherently and Anthony turned again to his mother.

  “How could you blame Emily for this? Or Paula? You’ve known for years what went on night after night and still you defend him? Well, here’s something you won’t find so easy to defend…”

  “Anthony.” His father had found his voice, though it was little more than a croak. “Don’t you dare say another word.”

  Anthony ignored him. “Remember when I was a kid, Mom—those little fishing trips he would take me on—along with Dr. Tom? Well, he served me up to the dear doctor. My own father let the letch have his way with me, Mother. He let him fuck me.”

  Patricia gazed at her son, transfixed with horror, then her body swiveled in one jerky movement and she faced her husband, her hands outstretched like claws as if ready to tear him apart. Anthony stepped in between his mother and father and Patricia collapsed against him, sobbing. Hastings stood stock still, trembling from head to foot. Even his arrogance could not let him ignore the hatred, anger, and danger that had manifested in this room. Without a word, he lumbered out and a moment later they heard the door to his room slam shut.

  “I’ll be back in a minute Emily.” Anthony led their mother from the room.

  Emily sat down heavily on the edge of her bed, her mind still reeling from the events of the last few minutes. Thank God Anthony had come home just then. She had not thought it possible that her father would ever attempt to violate her after all these years of not showing any sexual interest in her. She had considered herself fairly safe from him that way. More than ever now, she had to get out of this house. But now, it would have to be on her own. Jerry would not be with her. She could feel her heart break as she remembered the look on his face when she had told him. Why had she told him? Why hadn’t she listened to Peter’s warning to wait a little longer? She had ruined everything. She had lost the one man she felt she could depend on.

  Anthony tapped on the door and came in. He gave his sister an encouraging smile and took her in his arms.

  “It’s all right Emily. It’s all over now. He won’t try anything like that again.”

  “I—I told Jerry about what Father had done and now everything’s changed between us. He doesn’t love me.”

  “He said that?”

  “He didn’t have to. It was written all over his face.”

  Anthony looked shocked. “I figured he’d be there for you,” he said quietly. Gently he pushed a strand of her hair back from her wet face. “Tell me what happened.”

  “He said he needed time to deal with it.”

  “Okay, so it’s not that bad, Sis. It was a shock, that’s all. Would be for anyone, let’s face it. You were shocked when I told Mom about the doctor.”

  “Oh God, that had to have been awful.” Emily dried her eyes on Anthony’s shirtsleeve.

  “No more awful than what happened to you and Paula—and it’s not what made me gay, if that’s what you’re thinking. I knew about my feelings for men even before that happened. If anything, it should have turned me off for life. The doctor was not a gentle man. What made it so disgusting was the fact our father allowed it to happen. Encouraged it, even.”

  “He is so evil,” Emily said vehemently. “What did you do with Mother?”

  “I gave her one of her sleeping pills. God knows what she’ll do in the morning though. If Dad’s got any brains at all, he’ll get the hell out of Dodge for a few days.”

  “We have to get out of this house, Anthony. Why don’t you and I get a place together?”

  “What about Jerry?” Anthony took her hand gently. “Don’t write him off so soon. I bet you anything he’ll be calling on you tomorrow, looking all apologetic and lovable.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Yes, so don’t go breaking up with him, I might be tempted to jump in there—just kidding,” he added, laughing lightly, seeing his sister’s eyes widen. “I’m happy for you and him. And besides, I don’t think I’m his type.”

  Emily, recognizing her brother was trying to cheer her out of her depression, hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing Emily. Everything’s going to be just fine. I promise.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Peter heard the phone ring while he was in the backyard sweeping up fallen leaves. Throwing aside the broom, he ran into the kitchen to answer the phone.

  “Peter here.”

  “Hi Peter, it’s Gloria.”

  “Hey there, Gloria,” he replied in a jaunty tone even though Gloria did not sound like her usual ebullient self. “What’s new?”

  “Emily’s here Peter, kind of upset. She told me you know about the situation with her father…”

  “Has something happened?”

  “I’m afraid so. She told Jerry last night and he didn’t take the news well at all. She thinks it’s all over between them.”

  “Surely not. Of all the guys I could imagine handling this; I thought he’d be the one.”

  “Well apparently, it was just too much of a shock for him. Peter, d’you think you could come over? She thinks the world of you. It might help if you could talk to her. Last night seems to have been pretty traumatic.”

  “Of course I’ll come, but I’ll have to shower first—I’ve been working in the yard. I should be there in an hour or so.”

  “Great. I’ll tell her you’re coming.”

  Peter ran upstairs to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he remembered Jeff’s caution about telling Jerry. Seems he was right, as usual. I wish I’d never suggested she tell him. Silently, he prayed that this would not be the end of Emily and Jerry’s relationship. They were just too right together for this to happen.

  Despite her worried expression, Gloria looked as glamorous as ever as she opened the door for Peter. Dressed in a white cotton blouse and black shorts, with a minimum of makeup she still managed to look breath taking.

  “Thanks for coming over. Emily’s in the den. She’s still pretty upset.”

  Emily looked up miserably as Peter entered the den. He hugged her then sat next to her.

  “I should have listened to you,” she murmured, “when you said I should wait a little before telling him.�
�

  “I should never have suggested it in the first place. Me and my big mouth.”

  “But I think Emily was right to tell him,” Gloria said. “If he found out after they were married—and you can bet old Uncle Charlie would have found a way of letting him know—it could have been much worse.”

  “I’m sure Jerry will eventually realize he’s acting like a jerk,” Peter said.

  “He’s not a jerk, Peter,” Emily protested. “If you’d seen his face. I could tell he was still concerned for me even though he was shocked by what I’d told him.”

  “Even so, he has to know what it cost you to tell him.” Peter got to his feet. “Let me give him a call. Maybe I can help him see he needs to be supporting you right now, not wallowing in self pity.” As he said those words, he winced, recalling how Jeff had told him the exact same thing the first day they met. How angry he’d been then, unable to see that Jeff was trying to pull him out of his inability to face the truth and get on with his life. “Well, perhaps not in those exact terms.”

  Emily touched his hand. “Please don’t upset him any more than he is right now.”

  Gloria sat by Emily and put a comforting arm around her. “I think Peter should try and have a word with him. Maybe he needs another man’s input on this…and God knows, Peter, you’ve been to hell and back a couple of times yourself. He should listen to you.”

  “That’s not to say he will. But if it’s okay with you Emily, I’ll give it a try.”

  Emily looked at both of them for a moment then nodded.

  “Do you have his number? I’ll call him right now. See if he’s free for lunch.” She gave him Jerry’s phone number and he dialed it quickly. Taking a deep breath, he listened to the phone ring twice then Jerry’s secretary answered.

  “Mr. Lambert’s office. How may I help you?”

  “Is Jerry there? This is Peter Brandon, a friend.”

  “One moment please.”

  A moment later Jerry came on the line. “Hi, Peter.” He did not sound very happy.

  “Hey, Jerry. Listen, so happens I’ll be in your neck of the woods later today and wondered if you were free for lunch?”