The Last Name Banks

by Lacy Camey

  “Thank you,” I said.

  As I blew on my hot soup, I couldn’t help but to think about Logan. Surely by now his family was boarded on the airplane and Venezuelan bound. I said another silent prayer for them and for his speedy recovery.

  To my left laid a Grace Kelly biography book. I was last reading it before I left to Venezuela. I wondered who thought to bring the book since Nia was away tending her ailing sister.

  “I saw you reading the book and thought you might enjoy reading about a real life Princess,” Mother said quietly.

  My lips pursed together. It was thoughtful of her to bring it even thought she had an alternative motive behind the gesture.

  “Thanks,” I said as I opened the book and read my way until landing.

  Hours later, I sat in the back of our limo as we turned down the curving entryway of our estate. I looked at our home. It sat proudly on a hill, picturesque. I saw my horse Clancy grazing and wanted to go and see him. But I knew I needed to get into touch with Maycee and Norah to see how Logan was doing. The whole way home I tried to connect to Skype via my iPhone to try and speak with them but had no luck.

  I even texted hoping out of two of them, someone had international text in their phone plan. But, no response.

  I wondered about Steve’s fate but didn’t want to talk about it. Dad was glued to his cell phone the minute we landed the plane. As was Mom discussing tonight’s plans and other details, other women. Another champagne glass in hand.

  As soon as the door was flung open by one of our staff greeting me warmly, I ran as quickly as I could to my room after politely conversing and tried to connect to Skype again. No luck.

  I logged into my email and fired away one to Logan. I had my father’s assistant’s track down his email address at the orphanage. They were happy to oblige.

  Dear Logan,

  As you read this, I am at home in Austin against my wishes, of course. I wanted you to know this. I wanted to stay by your side the entire time until you awoke. It’s killing me being here. I feel it is all my fault. The least I could do was fly your family to see you. As I type this, they are mid-flight to see you and aid in your speedy recovery.

  I must let you know, in all my years of living and what you see as a privileged life, I’ve never had as much as a privilege as meeting a man like you and sharing a few unforgettable moments. There is something about your heart that shines through in all you do. The sacrifices that you make for the children, the way your eyes light up about your family. Never have I ever been kissed so gently by such a man and I’m thankful to have you been my first irreplaceable kiss.

  I know you probably found my behavior strange, wanting to swim in the nude and I apologize . . . well, actually I do not J. I will carry that freeing memory with me as long as I live. Thank you for sharing that moment with me.

  I am praying a speedy recovery for you and I hope we can speak soon. I hope this is not too forward of me but I want you to know the door is open on my end for receiving communication from you . . . .

  I deleted that last sentence. Too formal . . . never mind. Let’s try again.

  I hope you know I’m looking forward to hearing from you.

  Then I cc’d Maycee and Norah.

  PS. Norah and Maycee,

  PLEASE make sure Logan gets this e-mail. Please! Love you and thank you for helping me straighten out the truth. I love you two and I’m so sorry I had to leave. It breaks my heart that I’m not there with you. I hope you understand. I’m sure you do seeing the scene that was created. Probably horrified the children. Thank you for standing by me. Oh, and I guess you just read some juicy news. We’ll talk. Love you. xoxox

  As I pushed “send” a knock was at my door. I was just about to look up when I heard, “It’s a size six one of a kind Dolce and Gabbana vintage, fit for a one of a kind, beauty,” Mother said as she draped an elegant black dress over my bed. She was already dressed to a T in a charcoal taffeta dress that hugged every small curve on her double zero body.

  “I would love for you to join me tonight.”

  I sat on my padded satin chair, speechless.

  Her team of makeup artists and hair stylists marched into my room and began messing with my hair and holding swatches up to my skin.

  It was all happening so fast, but that was my mother’s life.

  “I’ll see you in an hour then, dear.” She walked out of the bedroom, leaving my heart warmed by being called dear from my own mother for the first time I could remember in my adult life.

  I was so thankful not only to step out with my mother, but I desperately needed this aversion from worrying all night about how Logan was.

  The benefit was a surprisingly pleasant event. I found myself devouring the entire South American skirt steak with no apologies to anyone. And this time, my mother didn’t say a single thing in regards to my choice of food. From including me into conversations, to averting stifling questions about the truth from Venezuela, I actually enjoyed myself and thanked my lucky stars for the pleasant evening and my mother’s olive branch.

  As we made our way home in the limo, I watched my mother as she closed her eyes and napped. She hadn’t mentioned anything about the plans I was supposed to have with the Prince. I looked at her beautiful face and pictured my biological mother.

  Of all the many different scenarios there could have been, for some reason, the identical twin spin on the story comforted me. Even though I would never be able to see my biological mother, a part of her sat directly in front me. I was determined to know as much of her as possible, but knew it may take careful chiseling of the elegant ice sculpture napping in front of me.

  As I analyzed the scenario further, I realized the pain my mom must have endured losing her other half. From having her own expectations to marrying my father—no doubt of her own mother’s plotting—it was certain the unending comfort my biological mother, Meg, must have provided her. It was then in my leather seat that I felt sorry for my mother and wished happiness on her because like I told Logan, everyone deserves to be happy. Regardless of the new change of events, I was determined to somehow make sure things were different from now on.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As I got ready for bed and slipped into my satin pink pajamas, I pulled out my journal and wrote my thoughts. I couldn’t help but wonder how Norah and Chloe were doing. Were they in their bunk, roughing it, sleeping to the sounds of bugs? I was keenly aware of the annoying silence and of being alone again.

  I thought of Logan, who should be surrounded now by the warm affection and comfort of his family. I couldn’t help but replay the scenes of us swimming in the nude with our makeshift blindfolds. I couldn’t help but to see the smile that appeared on his face whenever he spoke of his family.

  I couldn’t help but to think of my first real kiss and the feel of his strong back against my leg as I held his head in my arms, telling him he would make it, that he would live.

  And then I couldn’t help but think about my dream I had when I was under the influence of whatever drug was administered to me to calm me down from my panic attack. The kiss I felt from him was unlike any kiss imaginable. I closed my eyes, replaying it all over again. I could even feel the warmth from the sun and feel the satin dress on my skin. I felt his soft hand in my hand and heard him say again, “We are free to explore. All of it is ours.”

  I awoke the next morning to my door being opened and the sound of a squeaky silver tray being pushed by one of the staff, Clinton. I could smell the sizzling bacon and the fresh coffee in the coffee press. And I was thankful. The newspaper laid folded with what would you guess- my mother and I on the cover.

  Governor Banks Daughter Home. Safe. A Hero.

  I quickly threw off my down comforter and ran past Clinton–who looked at me shocked at my barely-there pajamas–to check my email. I had forgotten to cover up over my slinky pajamas. Oh, well. There was not a single email from anyone. Nothing. I began to panic. Why weren’t Maycee or Norah answering my em
ails? Did something bad happen to Logan? Did he not make it?

  “Miss—” Clinton handed me a yellow silk robe that had flowers on it.

  “Thank you,” I said, defeated from the lack of news. As I tied my robe and sat back staring at my computer, there was another knock on my door. It was my father. It was extremely unlike him to still be around in the morning. I suddenly didn’t feel so well. I immediately thought of Logan and the potential reality of him not making it.

  Clinton nodded and walked away. “Oh, thank you!” I hollered after him.

  Dad shut the door and made his way into my room, sitting at the end my bed. He dropped his head down as he sighed.

  Suddenly, tears came to my eyes and I knew he had bad news.

  “I know you heard the news.”

  Tears began to pour. God couldn’t take him. Just couldn’t. He was such a kind person. After his mean stage that is. And the world needed more kind people like him.

  “In light of the circumstances, I’ve canceled my entire day to make sure you’re okay.”

  I couldn’t even think. I couldn’t even open my eyes. It was all my fault and I’d never forgive myself.

  I could barely bring myself to ask the question.

  “There’s no easy way to say this,” he began.

  Sparing him, I asked, “When . . . when’s the funeral?”

  “The funeral?”

  “Uh huh,” I sniffed.

  “What fun—” he stopped and looked me in the eyes.

  “Oh, no. No. No funeral. Didn’t you read in the papers? The Drudge Report?”

  I shook my head.

  “He made it.”

  I nearly fell over. “Oh, thank God.” My hand went to my heart as I couldn’t contain my tears.

  “Yes, I received the news early this morning but I . . . didn’t want to interrupt your sleep. I knew you probably needed it.” Shifting his weight, he said, “I know you heard from Claire about the truth. I want you to know from me, and to know I mean this a hundred percent from my heart, that I love you and have always loved you as my own flesh and blood. If you ever doubt that, push the delete button. You are loved, wanted and will always be a Banks.”

  He stood up and gave me a giant bear hug. “It hurts me to ever think of you as an orphan or to even imagine you to feel as one inside. Don’t ever feel that way.”

  As I hugged my father, tears poured. It would take a while to get used to the truth but I appreciated his honesty and love.

  I pulled away. “Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate that.”

  “And if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m always here. I know I have a lot going on right now but don’t ever let that keep you from at least trying to get my attention. Okay, kiddo?”

  I sniffled and wiped my remaining tears. I hadn’t been called kiddo in years. It felt nice.

  “I thought we could go riding today. I know you’ve been dying to get out there and see Clancy. What do you say?”

  I smiled and nodded, “I’d like that.”

  “But I know you want to read that article in the paper first. Meet you at the stall when you’re ready.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  I watched him leave and made my way back to my tray and back to the paper.

  Chloe Banks is not only a humanitarian at heart but a true hero. After saving a Venezuelan orphanage director’s life, putting his life before her own, he now rests and is recovering well at the comfort of his Montana family.

  It was short but sweet. I was officially labeled a humanitarian and I felt proud. No longer was I in the press for just a picture of wearing a Prada dress or eating at my favorite Bistro. I’d always wanted to be recognized as more than a name and a face, and for the first time, I felt proud to see my name in the press. I quickly ate my breakfast and dressed myself for riding. I made my way back to my laptop and checked my email once more. Nothing. I dialed up Skype and searched for a connection on Norah or Maycee’s end. Nothing. It was killing me, but I was so relieved to know Logan was okay.

  I quickly fired away another email to Norah and Maycee.

  Hey Gals,

  I’m dying over here not hearing from y’all! Please reach out and connect when you can. Last night was so awful sleeping without you two in our bunk with loud bug noises. You’ll realize it when you come home and sleep in your bed. It will feel like something is missing. I cannot even convey to you the elation I feel to know Logan made it. If only I could be there. Please send him my warm thoughts and wishes.

  What is his mother, father, sisters and brothers like?

  Love, Me

  After a pleasant morning of riding with my dad, I felt myself cheering up a bit from the endorphins, even though a huge piece of me felt missing. As we brushed our horses and took the saddles off, my dad said to me, “You know, life is a funny thing at times. It’s like a big box of Godiva chocolates . . . . ”

  “You never know what you’re gonna get,” I finished for him.

  “Exactly. But my Pappy is the one who I think coined the original phrase. We were in Paris together doing business and we stopped at a Godiva chocolatier store. As my father and I shared a box together outside on a picnic bench on beautiful spring day, he said something to me I’ll never forget that I want to share today with you. He said, ‘Wanna know the good thing about us Banks? We stick together through the many samples, when we go through the many stages of figuring out life.’

  “Chloe, today I’m telling the same thing to you. Having that approval from my Pappy gave me this relentless confidence that’s always anchored me through difficult times. I want you to have the same feeling. You’re young. You deserve to try out a whole box of chocolates if you want, figuring out who you are and what you like. And as you do, just know I’ll always have your back. Always. Even if you feel as if the whole world is against you, you just need to know that your father has your back and I’m always proud of you.”

  I blinked back tears. “Thanks so much, Dad. I appreciate that.” I wiped my tears with my shirt sleeve. “Gosh, I’ve cried so much lately,” I sniffed and laughed.“But thanks. Really. It means a lot. And it was beautiful sounding what you said.”

  “Well, at least my literature degree comes into some sort of use from decades ago.”

  “Yeah, right. Like you paid attention,” I joked.

  “I was sampling chocolates in undergrad.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  As we laughed, one of my dad’s assistants ran quickly into the barn. I immediately tensed up. Never a good sign.

  “Sorry, sir. I know you canceled the day but this is for Chloe.” He bent over catching his breath.

  My first thought: Logan.

  “I know, I need to run more,” he said as he held a clipboard in his hand.

  Was he okay? Did something happen?

  “Ah . . . let’s see. Hold on.” He was really out of breath but that was understandable. The stable’s distance from our house without the ATV convenience was a ten minute walk.

  Please let Logan be okay.

  “Lady Gaga canceled last minute with Pierce Morgan. He wants to interview you, Chloe, and reveal your humanitarian pursuits.” I dropped my brush and the loud thud made me jump.

  “Are you serious?” I asked.

  “Dead. Interview shoots a week from today.”

  My hand went to my forehead. It was unbelievable. “Yes! Of course! I’d love to do it!” I jumped up and down. I couldn’t help it.

  “That a girl!” My dad side-hugged me as we walked closer to his assistant.

  “Great. Will book arrangements then. Oh, uh, Nia is still out, no? Who will accompany you then?”

  “My mother will,” I said without giving it a second more of thought. My dad couldn’t hide his smile.

  “Right. Well, noted. Thanks.” He turned around and began to walk away.

  “Need a lift?” my dad asked.

  He turned back around, and I noticed his shiny shoes that matched his three piece suit were covered in dust.
“Would love that, actually.”

  As we rode back on the ATV back to the house, I was filled with a thousand thoughts. I needed to get in touch with my speech coach, hair stylist, and my mom’s personal shopper, of course. I had to look and sound my absolute best. I supposed I could go vegan again for a week, cleansing myself from the South American cuisine. But throughout my planning thoughts, I couldn’t help but to think of the fact that I wanted to share this moment with Norah, but couldn’t. It would have been so fun to share this moment of planning with her. We’d go get manis and pedis together, work out, try out many outfits.