by Cher Etan
“Look, you know everyone’s going to be looking at me, judging me, talking about me behind my back…I need an ally I can count on. Please Bain,” she wheedled.
“I thought Dean had your back…or don’t you trust him?” Bain needled in return.
Meaghan just gave him a long sidelong glance to let him know what she thought of his jabs. Bain and Dean barely got along.
“Please. Don’t make me invoke the best friend contract article nine, line eight,” she pleaded.
“Oh fine, if you’re going to bring the friend contract into it,” Bain said sounding aggrieved. “But I’m bringing Daniel,” he warned.
“You do that,” Meaghan said. Daniel was Bain’s stripper boyfriend and even though he was perfectly house trained and knew how to behave in public, he was still a very flamboyant gay man who knew exactly how attractive he was. It didn’t exactly make for shrinking violet type behavior. Meaghan was happy to hear that Daniel would be coming. Not only did they have excellent rapport, but he would be even more of a misfit than she would be. They could watch each other’s backs.
Beauty regime completed, it was time for their weekly dinner. Bain had turned it into an elaborate production in the last year, mostly to discourage any gate crashing from their respective love interests. Neither Daniel nor Dean was interested in hanging out at an Asian nail salon during rush hour or dressing up in elaborate costume to go have dinner at La Trattoria where they were likely not to be joined by the proprietor, Luigi, who may or may not be half in love with Bain. Meaghan and Bain enjoyed it though; it was an escape from ‘real’ life and a chance to catch up that they wouldn’t otherwise have what with their busy professional and personal lives. Meaghan was busy juggling the attempt to become a surgeon with walking the fine line between being Dean’s girlfriend and not setting off an international incident by saying the wrong thing at the wrong place at the exact right time. Bain was busy building his architectural business by altering the skyline of New York while artfully dodging Daniel’s attempts to get him to the proverbial altar. He greeted the announcement that yet another state had legalized gay marriage with trepidation.
Being together was like sanctuary from a world that expected so much more of them than they were ready to give.
“What’s the big deal with this benefit anyway? Is it your first?” Bain asked over a dinner of delicious lasagna and Luigi’s own vintage of wine.
“Well yeah, of course it’s my first,” Meaghan began before Bain stopped her by imitating a buzzer sound.
“Nope you remember when we were seventeen I took you as my date to that stray dogs benefit?” Bain said.
“It wasn’t a stray dog benefit,” Meaghan said laughing, “it was a rescue dog one.”
“Po-ta-to, Po-tah-to,” Bain replied dismissively. “The point is this isn’t your first time hobnobbing with the gentry.”
“Yeah but it is my first time as Dean’s girlfriend,” Meaghan qualified.
“And that makes it different why? He’s not exactly Pygmalion,” Bain said contemptuously.
“And Galatea I am not. Still…he already has all this anxiety about his dad and his company stocks; his mother already hates me. I guess we’re more Romeo and Juliet without the teenage angst and suicide,” Meaghan said speculatively.
Bain laughed. “Please, you guys are straight out Acontius and Cydippe,” he said. Meaghan inclined her head to the side.
“I’m not sure I know that one,” she said.
Bain sighed and rolled his eyes. “That’s what you get for sleeping through literature classes…So the highlights; Acontius was a young man from Chios who, at a festival at Delos, fell in love with the Athenian Cydippe. He threw a coin at her, and she picked it up and read, 'I swear by the temple of Artemis that I shall marry Acontius...' By saying it aloud, she was obligated to marry him. This myth reiterates how tradition—and male aspirations—took precedence over female wishes, whatever they may or may not be.”
“So you’re saying Dean’s wishes take precedence over mine?” Meaghan asked in disbelief.
“I’m saying you’re giving yourself anxiety attacks over a goddamned party Megs. A party.” Bain emphasized looking Meaghan in the eye. “Since when do you give a fuck about these things?”
Meaghan opened her mouth and then closed it again. She was saved from having to make an immediate response by Luigi who brought the dessert himself. It was tiramisu with gelato and it made Meaghan’s mouth water even though she’d been sure not two seconds ago that she couldn’t eat anymore.
Bain didn’t say a word; just let her tuck in to her sweets until she couldn’t pretend to be absorbed anymore.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me. I know this isn’t me,” she said quietly.
“It’s easy to lose yourself when you think you’re in love,” Bain conceded.
“I don’t think Bain. I know.”
“No, I know you know…I just…I’m saying he’s your first love and it’s easy to get lost in that.”
“I don’t want to get lost,” Meaghan said putting down her spoon and wiping sauce off the side of her mouth.
“I know you don’t. That’s what I’m here for,” Bain reassured her, hand covering hers comfortingly.
“I still need you to come to the benefit,” Meaghan said smiling.
“You know I’m there for you honey,” Bain said spooning more chocolate gelato into his mouth.
*****
Dean walked into his parent’s mansion nodding in passing at the butler. He’d called as soon as Poppy had left the house because Dean wanted to see his father but he needed to avoid his mother. She was beyond tiresome with her tirades about Meaghan and he just didn’t want to hear it anymore. The butler, Reeves, had informed him that Poppy was out for lunch followed by a Daughters of the American Revolution meeting. That meant Dean had at least four hours before Poppy would be expected back.
“Hallo father,” he breezed as he stepped into his father’s room.
Jeffrey Wesson smiled delightedly at his son, he was hooked up to a machine that helped him articulate what he wanted to say but he was still learning to control it, so it was exhausting. He tried to limit its usage to very necessary communications and just continued with facial gestures otherwise.
“How are you feeling?” Dean asked as he came to sit by his father’s bed and take his hand. Jeffrey shrugged as if to say ‘so-so’ and Dean squeezed his hand.
“It’ll get better,” he said reassuringly. Jeffrey’s eyes drifted past Dean to the door and then back to Dean again. He lifted his brow.
“Who? Mom? Gone,” Dean said with a small side smile. Jeffrey’s brow cleared and then he beetled his brows as if censuring Dean.
“Yeah I know. I need to do something about that situation but I don’t see what I can do right now short of doing what she wants me to do,” Dean protested the unspoken plea to get along with his mother. Jeffrey unbeetled his brow as if to ask why he couldn’t do that.
“I love her dad, this isn’t just some teenage rebellion thing or whatever mother thinks is going on. I can’t go back to Samantha. Can you imagine meeting mother and then going back to whomever you used to flirt with before you met her?” Dean asked with a bit of a smirk.
Jeffrey’s eyes grew wry with agreement.
“Anyway dad, I wanted to tell you about the meeting I had with the De Beers people. I know their reputation is solid but their methods were just the tiniest bit shady and I wanted to run the whole thing by you to see if you agree with me or if I am over-reacting,” Dean said.
Jeffrey nodded as if urging him to continue so that is what Dean did. He explained about the meeting and what his private investigator had found out about the company and its directors.
“It seems a pretty solid deal although I have scheduled a meeting with several of their collaborators just to see if they live up to the reputation,” Dean said.
“Board of directors?”the computer microphone intoned.
“Yeah, t
he board of directors is on board with us partnering up with them, subject to several quid pro quos as laid out by the legal and finance departments. We’re scheduled for that meet after the benefit,” Dean said.
Jeffrey raised his brows in inquiry.
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about that. De Beers invited us to a benefit they’re holding at the Museum of Modern Art. Something to do with helping the victims of Blood Diamonds. It’s good PR as well as a worthy cause.”
Jeffrey nodded his approval and then computer intoned, “Keep me posted.”
Dean checked his watch. “Dad, I’d love to stay longer but I really don’t want to run into Poppy so I’m out of here. I’ll see you soon.”
Jeffrey frowned again as Dean looked up at him.
“I’m really sorry dad. I wish things could be better but for now…this is how things have gotta be,” he said. The frown didn’t leave Jeffrey’s face and Dean tried to figure out why.
“Language” the computer voice intoned.
Jeffrey stared uncomprehendingly at his father, wondering what the hell he was talking about. He ran over what he’d just said, looking for swear words or whatever it was that caused his father to disapprove. The frown on his face slowly cleared as he realized that he was talking like Meaghan, his words full of the cadences of Queens. He’d been spending so much time with her, and with her mother, and her family friend Mr. Henley that he was starting to talk like them.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured to his father and then walked out quietly. As he tripped down the stairs to his car he laughed softly to himself. He needed to watch himself in the future around both his parents. He didn’t need to alienate his father as well.
*****
Hey Dean darling, would you mind if we took a rain check on the whole Friday night date night thing? I gotta go home.
Meaghan texted Dean as she got into work so she would have time to deal with all his sulky refusals before the work day was at an end. She did not want him coming down to the hospital to get her after work; she had a solid plan that involved taking the train home and spending the evening with Mr. Henley at his auto shop. She figured if she was going to ‘find herself’ it was a great place to start. She’d spent a good portion of her childhood studying in his office while classic rock blasted from the speakers. He’d shaped her taste in music and was responsible for at least a quarter of her values. Her mother was at work; she had the night shift at the hospital so the house was empty but Mr. Henley stayed at his shop sometimes until one in the morning. They could catch up; maybe she could read as he worked on the cars. Do his books for old times’ sake…Maybe she would even meet some other interesting customer looking for a quick fix for their ride that they didn’t want their rich friends to know about. Meaghan smiled remembering in vivid detail the day that she’d met Dean for the first time. He’d driven in with his damaged Lamborghini and a wad of cash. Mr. Henley had been busy so it was left to Meaghan to greet him. She hadn’t known who he was but he remembered her. She could still recall their conversation quite clearly.
She had been working late one night - or rather she’d gotten caught up reading the Iliad while Bon Jovi blasted from the speakers and she didn’t want to move - when a new customer drove into the garage. She had looked down from the window in the office that was at the top of a flight of stairs and saw that the garage below her was deserted. Mr. Henley had said something about going out for a smoke; no smoking was allowed in the garage because it was a fire hazard and it was late so no-one else seemed to be around. She had wondered what she should do; it wasn’t like she could help the customer with his car…
He had alighted from the vehicle and Meaghan had got a load of his full head of hair as he looked around for someone to help him. He looked lost. The car was too expensive for this neighborhood and the guy was too well dressed. Meaghan stood and left the office, descending the stairs self-consciously as the guy watched her come to him. She guessed there was nothing else to look at really, but still she wished he would look away.
“Hi. Can I help you?” she’d asked him. Being up close and personal with him, and standing on the same level had brought home to her how tall he was; and well built. But not as old as she’d first thought when she saw his clothes. No, he was closer to her age than the mid twenties she’d assumed at his outfit. Fitted khaki slacks and blue fitted shirt that looked tailor made for him. His dark hair was windswept and untidy but that could have been because he’d just alighted from a convertible…Lamborghini Aventador if she wasn’t mistaken. His green eyes were so intent on her that she felt like squirming but drew herself up instead and looked back at him.
“Where do I know you from?” he’d asked ignoring her question.
“What? I’m pretty sure I don’t know you,” she had replied and then wondered if that was rude and if Mr. Henley would be mad at her for being brusque with his customers.
“Yes. I’ve seen you somewhere,” he said looking her up and down. And then his eyes fell on the book in her hand. It was emblazoned with ‘The Dalton School’ along its sleeve which was facing him. The frown cleared from his face.
“Oh you’re the scholarship chick in my biological sciences class aren’t you?” he had said. “You look different without the mountain of books you’re usually carrying.”
Meaghan had been so bemused with him; it had been a surreal night and she smiled to think of it. That sixteen year old that she was had been a lot more self-possessed than Meaghan felt these days; granted her life was also much less complicated so she probably didn’t have much to stress about except getting good grades. Outsiders might imagine that living in a trailer park gave her lots of materiel for angst and depression but she got on with her mother, they had food to eat and beds to sleep in. She took care of her own schooling by getting a scholarship. Life had been pretty good.
Chapter 10
“We have to go shopping,” Bain said.
“Time to break out the emergency black card?” Meaghan asked.
“Nope. Because I have a perfectly good non-emergency black card we can use,” Bain said.
“Fuck that. If anyone is buying Meaghan clothes for the benefit it’s going to be me,” Dean cut in, startling Meaghan quite badly because she hadn’t been aware that he was listening. Last she looked he was across the room with Smith, his best friend and Bella, Smith’s sister. Bella and her husband-to-be had decided on a joint bachelor/bachelorette party so as to eliminate the potential for jealous fits and/or misunderstandings. It was a small party with Bella and Corbett’s close friends in attendance at a private room at the Midtown Hilton. A few faces were familiar to Meaghan from school and some were well known celebrity faces she’d seen in magazines; Bain and Daniel as well as Dean and Smith were the only ones she knew personally. Thankfully Samantha was at a shoot on the Cayman Islands so there was no need to worry about her showing up. Meaghan had almost forgotten Samantha’s existence in the last few months in the wake of everything else going on in her life; but being in a room with a bevy of Samantha’s friends was forcefully reminding her that the feud with Dean’s ex-girlfriend was not over.
She’d retired to a corner with Bain who was sulking a little bit because the same bevy of women were taking a lot of interest in Daniel who had come to the party from work and therefore was wearing a tight black t-shirt and black jeans that held on to everything. With his long blonde hair and gray eyes he looked like a demi-god come to earth to fornicate with virgins. No-one was claiming to be a virgin in that group but they were down for the fornicating anyway. Daniel had eyes only for Bain anyway, but his mother had raised him to be polite so he was patiently smiling and flirting with the group because they were Bain’s friends. Bain left him to it and he knew what Daniel was doing; nevertheless it brought back echoes of Luigi leaving him for a woman and that made him itchy. Hence his hunching in the corner with arms and legs crossed. When Meaghan saw how he was sitting, she came across to him immediately to distract him with prospects of shoppin
g and new outfits. It was a relief to get away from the cattiness of the women and the slightly sleazy sidelong glances she was getting from the males. She felt like fresh meat on her first day in jail. It was nerve wracking.
Dean and Bain were still bickering over who was going to pay for her clothes for the benefit and she was inclined to let them battle it out but if her relationship with the former was going to go anywhere, he really was going to have to learn to play nice with the latter. With that in mind, encouraging bickering was probably not wise. So Meaghan stepped in to inform them both that she would be buying her own dress.
“What?” they said in unison.
“I will be buying my own dress,” she intoned solemnly as she stared at them both.
“Meaghan,” Dean began to protest.
“My mother is already on it okay? She has something great lined up for me already,” Meaghan lied.
Dean opened his mouth, thought about what he was about to say and then closed it again. Bain just glared at her.
“Girl, we’re going shopping. I don’t care if you already have the perfect dress, I need a suit and you’re coming with me,” Bain said.
“What about Daniel?” she asked.
“Daniel can do his own damn shopping. We ain’t joined at the hip,” Bain said. Meaghan turned to look at Daniel busy flirting away with girls…sometimes she felt sorry for him – other times she was resigned. After all, Daniel knew what he was getting himself into by now. Or he should. And she really did want to go shopping with Bain, he was so much fun making fun of fellow shoppers and choosing the exact right color for her and for himself. But if Dean heard that she went shopping with Bain he’d take it personally and it would just blow up into yet another thing to hold against each other.
She snaked her arm through Dean’s and led him away.
“Why you always fighting with my best fwend?” she asked pouting.
“Why's he always trying to rain on my parade?” he countered.
