unStrapped

by Nina G. Jones

  With hardly any time to shop upon my return from our vacation, I entrusted Mona to pick something out from me while we were in Massachusetts. Confession: I guess I AM getting used to this life. Can you blame me?

  She had selected a body-skimming gown in midnight blue silk. Unlined lace allows for peeks of my arms through the long sleeves as well as my décolletage and back, but the front of the bodice and entire skirt is lined with navy satin under the lace. My hair is gently twisted up to display the intricate lace neckline of the dress, which perfectly accents my new favorite accessory: my engagement ring. I keep the makeup light and fresh, only truly making a statement with a maroon lip.

  We drive around to the back of the hotel and Taylor finally emerges from his cocoon of tension to speak to me.

  “We’re going in through a private entrance to convene with the family in a suite. By the way, you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

  “As do you, Mr. Holden,” I reply.

  Harrison opens the door to the Bentley and I follow Taylor out into the chill winter air. Heavy snow has just begun to fall, and Taylor grabs an umbrella from Harrison, keeping me dry during the short walk to the private entrance. The hotel manager greets us enthusiastically and guides us to a room, classically decorated in rich cherry woods and finely upholstered furnishings.

  “Mr. Holden, your father and mother are waiting for you in the suite,” he says, gesturing to a door in the room. Harrison tips the man and he promptly leaves.

  Taylor glances at his watch. “We have about thirty to forty-five minutes before we need to get up to the fundraiser.” I nod, feeling far more nervous than I had anticipated. “Are you okay?”

  “Yup, fine,” I breathe out while clutching my hands together. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “Congratulations to you both,” Harrison’s voice uncharacteristically joins in on our conversation. While I understood Taylor’s defense of Harrison, I couldn’t help but feel colder around him since he ratted me out. I think it’s because I now understood that no matter how close I thought we had become, ours was first and foremost a business relationship. Honestly, ever since Eric’s death, Harrison has been quieter than usual, which for him means barely uttering a word. I think Eric’s death was a reminder to him to not get too close. But something about the way he congratulated us felt like an apology of sorts, or maybe that’s just me being self-centered.

  “Thank you,” I say, feeling for a moment like the Harrison who once helped me garden is still here.

  “Thank you,” Taylor says, his tone warm with genuine appreciation.

  ***

  Randall is sitting in an upholstered chair, looking especially distinguished in a black and white tux. Nan is nursing a martini while leaning against the back of one of the settees.

  “Taylor!” His dad stands up as quickly as he can, using his cane for assistance. “How was your drive? The snow just started to fall as we were pulling in.”

  “It was fine, the snow is picking up though. Hi, Nan.”

  “Hi Taylor. Shyla, you look gorgeous tonight.”

  I am used to big hugs from my small family, but Taylor’s greetings are so detached, and it makes it really awkward for me to establish some sort of greeting routine with the future in-laws. But awkwardness be damned, I want to try and get them to see me as a daughter, so I zoom towards Randall to hug him before the moment passes.

  “Thank you, Nan. Hi, Mr. Holden,” I say, giving him a gentle hug.

  “Oh come on, I can’t keep begging you to call me Randall.”

  I smile. “Of course, Randall. You look very handsome tonight.” I feel Taylor’s smirk from the corner of my eye. I make my way over to Nan. Her icy presence is more of a challenge. Thankfully, it appears the alcohol has done me a favor. “You look amazing. It’s so good to see you again.” She gives me one of those underhand hugs with a cheek-to-cheek kiss. Her nude dress makes her eyes the only pop of color on her person and they appear even more wintry than the first time we met.

  “Taylor told me you inspired him to pick the programs he did for this year’s fundraiser,” Randall says.

  “Yeah, he just surprised me with the news last week. I was so shocked and really touched.”

  “That’s thoughtful of you,” Nan says, before taking another sip. Her glass, which was halfway full when we joined them, is now empty.

  “It’s nothing,” Taylor says, making his way to the bar. “Shy, do you want anything?”

  “Whatever you’re having.” I immediately regret saying it, as high-stress events like this usually mean something hard for Taylor.

  “So, Shyla and I have some news for you both before we head upstairs,” Taylor says, bringing me a glass of white wine, in contrast to the amber liquid in his glass. That man knows me well.

  Randall and Nan perk up from their respective positions in the room.

  “What’s the news?” Randall asks with a hint of concern.

  “I recently took Shyla to Finland, and while there, I asked her to be my wife. She said yes,”

  A feather could drop in the room and you would hear it. My heart shoots up to my throat as my eyes dart to Randall, who needs a forklift to bring his bottom jaw back in place. Nan’s sea-glass eyes are wide and she just goes for broke and swigs back the rest of her new martini. Do I really suck that bad?

  But Randall’s mouth quickly morphs into a smile, and Nan removes her glass from her face, to reveal a pleased grin. “Congratulations!” Randall says enthusiastically. “I didn’t expect the news to come so soon, but it’s a pleasant surprise. I am so happy for the both of you.”

  “Let’s toast,” Nan says, clearly using the opportunity to imbibe again. “To a lifetime of happiness for Taylor and Shyla. Welcome to the family.”

  I hide a calming exhale of relief. I truly thought the reaction would be somewhat detached and cold based on Randall’s apprehension about our relationship, but both Nan and Randall seem to support Taylor’s decision. Either that, or the bullshitting gene is strong throughout the Holden family.

  Then something happens that shows me something is truly changing. Randall extends his hand to Taylor, who after a moment of hesitation reaches out and shakes back. Randall reaches his other hand around and pulls Taylor in for a hug.

  Taylor tensely reciprocates.

  I know how badly his father has wanted that. It brings me some solace that maybe Taylor can give a little more of himself, knowing that Randall will never see his other son again. And maybe Randall can see that I am a positive influence in Taylor’s life.

  Chapter 24

  Having my name announced to a room of hundreds of powerful strangers is something I will NEVER get used to. But if Taylor can deal with it, given his social anxiety, I can’t complain.

  The night is spent mingling with a new set of strangers and some familiar faces from H.I. Unfortunately, both Henry and Lizzy couldn’t make it as they are both out of the country on business.

  Then came the speech. Taylor wouldn’t let me see it as he finalized it the night before and I quickly understood why.

  “It has been well-established that education in the arts enhances communities, contributes to higher scores in other subjects, and leads to a more well-rounded workforce in the future. With advances in technology, art and technology can now be combined in ways we couldn’t have imagined even decades ago. Those who are well-prepared in these subjects will be the world’s inventors, product designers, and engineers. They will be able to combine creativity and tangible skills to advance business and society.

  But for me, this cause is now far more than numbers on a spreadsheet. It holds a special place in my family. My fiancée, the most wonderful woman who I have ever known, is a graphic designer and artist. Her talents and love for art and technology took her from a place of childhood poverty, to obtaining a world-class education. I truly believe there are other young men and women out there who are prevented from reaching their potential as these programs are slashed all over t
he country. This will always be a cause that is important to the Holden family and will always have our commitment.”

  It was difficult to choke back the tears as Taylor revealed the $1.25 million raised at the fundraiser, and the additional $15 million being pledged by the Holden Foundation to the Shyla Ball Holden art fund. It was at that moment that I realized I had become one of those people who would have her name on plaques in school campuses. One day, that might extend to buildings Taylor and I renovate at our alma maters or wings of museums in cities throughout the country.

  Shortly after the speech and after the dessert, the band plays a slow song as people filter out onto the dance floor. Taylor is pulled away for a moment by H.I. staff to attend to business and I find myself alone, content to watch the couples lilt from side to side under the champagne-colored lighting.

  “May I have this dance?” Randall looks down on me with kind eyes.

  “Of course.”

  He lays his cane against my chair and offers me his arm, through which I hook mine in as we slowly proceed to the dance floor.

  As he leads me, standing much prouder than I am used to seeing, I realize just how tall he is. Both Taylor and Eric inherited his stature in addition to his crooked grin. I imagine once he was as muscular and strong as his sons, before the disease weakened him and caused him to slowly wither.

  “He’s different because of you Shyla. I can see that now. Truthfully, I saw it the day he brought you to our house. He’s never even spoken of a woman to us, let alone brought someone to our home. I know he had girlfriends, but no one he felt strongly about. I assumed it would always be that way, because of his…attachment issues. But, I can tell, he seems to have affection when he is around you. For him to show that, it must mean what ever he feels for you is powerful.”

  “I feel that way about him too, but you already know that,” I say, referring to our conversation in his study the day I first met him. He had given me the third-degree, but now it finally seems like he is beginning to trust my intentions.

  “I suppose I might have come on strong when we first met. But, I figured you could handle it if you can handle Taylor. He is strong-willed.”

  “That he is.”

  “Honestly, I wanted to stir you a bit, just to see how you would react. It’s a common tactic I used in negotiations.”

  “And were we negotiating Taylor?”

  Randall laughs a bit, “I guess one could see it that way. I have always been concerned with his emotional well-being. He’s fine, I know, but I had such a difficult time raising him and a boy needs his mother. Nan couldn’t truly be there for him. She was an adequate stepmother, but he’s a product of my betrayal of her. So I worried one day that if he chose someone, it might be for the wrong reasons. And your link to each other, you know that was concerning.”

  “Or it means that we are the only people who can truly understand each other.”

  “That’s certainly the other possibility. The one I hope for. There’s a light in his eyes, his mood isn’t always so somber or serious.”

  “And he hugged you today.”

  “He did. My only concern, and this is for the both of you, is that you look forward. Yes, you have shared a past together, and I know how tempting it may be to seek answers, but sometimes there are no answers to be had.”

  “What makes you bring this up?”

  “Our last conversation, you asked about his mother.”

  “Don’t you believe she’s dead?”

  “I do, but the point is, you were investigating. And opening these things up is not always for the best.”

  “Is there something you know that I don’t?”

  “No. Shyla, that time was hard on everyone, including me. I am happy that I got Taylor out of it, but the past, remembering it, reliving it, hurts us all: Me, Nan, who was by my side when I had to bring Taylor into our home…and I believe it might hurt Taylor too.”

  “I understand,” I say, realizing that he will be very displeased if he finds out about Taylor meeting Lyla, if all goes according to plan. “I don’t want our shared pasts to be some cloud that hovers over us. I hope our families can come together and we can look forward. Yes, Taylor and I share this link, but we have so many more memories together as adults. I promise you all I want is the best for Taylor, and I just want to make him happy.”

  “Then I’m sure you’ll do what’s necessary to prove that.”

  “Prove?”

  “I assume Taylor has spoken to you about arrangements should your marriage come to an end?”

  Here Randall goes again, taking what I thought was a personal tender moment, and dropping an atom bomb on my ass. Instinctively, I pull back just a few centimeters to make eye contact. “You should talk to your son about that.”

  “Shyla, he is in love, but I have to make sure he is protected.”

  “He’s almost thirty-three years old. I think he has proven he can take care of himself. And this is between him and me.”

  “The Holden estate is shared with Nan and me. I have to make sure if something goes awry…”

  “I would never try to suck him dry. I can’t believe you are doing this again. Do you not want me to marry Taylor? Do you have something against where I came from?”

  “On the contrary, I am thrilled my son is getting married. I think you are a reasonable woman, and I think this is a reasonable conversation.”

  “The dance floor of a fundraiser is far from a reasonable place.”

  “Many a deal is made over a meal or on the dance floor.”

  “Randall, this is not a deal. I don’t see marrying your son as a business transaction. If you think he should have me sign a prenup, tell him, not me.”

  “He already knows what I think.”

  “Why are you here asking me if he already knows?”

  “Because I wanted to spare my son the awkward conversation.”

  “You mean he wants me to sign one? Did he put you up to this?”

  “I never said that. Actually, I am concerned he might not bring it to you because of his feelings for you, but you should know that if you care about him, you have the option to protect him.”

  “But you two have been talking about this?”

  “Of course, Shyla, every father in my position has this conversation with his son.”

  The song ends, and the silence halts our intense conversation. Why wouldn’t Taylor just talk to me about this? And why is my future father in law such a colossal mindfucker?

  My eyes scan the room for Taylor, but I can’t spot him in the crowd.

  “Thank you for this dance, Randall. I hope one day you can see me as family. I understand it’s not easy letting your son go, but trust me, he is the most powerful person I know. I wouldn’t worry about him if I was you. Pre-nup or no pre-nup. Speaking of Taylor, he’s been gone a while, I should go find him,” I say, leaving Randall alone on the dance floor.

  ***

  I enter the private family suite and almost completely miss Nan lounging lazily on one of the sofas, looking like she enjoyed a few more alcoholic beverages since our engagement announcement.

  “Oh, hi. I didn’t see you there,” I say.

  “Well, hello. What brings you here? Wait—you are a Holden wife now, or you will be,” she says, pointing to me with the hand holding her glass. “You’ll find yourself in these rooms alone quite a bit.”

  I laugh uncomfortably. “Sorry, did I interrupt?”

  “No, just taking a breather. I just can’t deal with half of these people tonight. I take it by the way you barged in here, you are feeling the same way.”

  Actually, it’s your abrasive husband. “I guess. I lost Taylor and thought I might find him here.”

  “I can’t believe Taylor is finally getting married. You must be one special woman. I thought he would be the perpetual bachelor.”

  The alcohol has made Nan far more familiar than I am used to. Again, I laugh uncomfortably and shrug. “Yup, that’s what everyone keeps tel
ling me.”

  “Go make yourself a drink if you want.”

  “I’m okay, I’ve had a few glasses of wine already.”

  “I assume you told your mother about the engagement?”

  “Yes, we surprised her with a visit on our way back from the vacation.”

  “That must have been a helluva reunion. Was it her first time meeting Taylor? Since he was a boy?”

  “Yes, my mother was very emotional.”

  “But not Taylor, right? He’s a tough nut to crack.”

  “Well, you know Taylor. He’s just more guarded with his emotions.”

  “Taylor the golden boy. Randall cares so much for him and that means he can be difficult. He hasn’t been hard on you, has he? I’ll make sure he’s not too hard on you. I think he wants to prevent Taylor from making the same mistakes he did.”

  “If there is anyone who doesn’t need fatherly protection, it’s Taylor.”

  “I know. For him to overcome what he has requires a lot of strength. The world is his oyster. I tell Randall not to worry, but he focuses so much on Taylor, probably to shift his worry about Eric onto someone he can actually communicate with on a regular basis.”

  Eric’s name being thrown around so freely makes me nervous, like I might involuntarily vomit some clue I am not supposed to. So instead, I say as little as possible.

  “You know, something funny happened shortly after you visited our house for Randall’s birthday…”

  “Oh?” I say, hoping the topic steers away from her dead son.

  “Yes, I had a dream about Eric. I can’t remember exactly what happened, I fell asleep in the study and then I woke up and he was there. I hadn’t seen him in so long, but it felt incredibly real.”

  “You must miss him,” I say, rethinking that glass of wine.

  “Can I be honest with you?” She sits up and perches one of her elbows on her knee.

  “Of course.”

  “I do miss him, of course. But, he made his choices. He was selfish in leaving us without even saying goodbye. I resented him a lot for that. Maybe it was my fault. I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head in befuddlement and drunkenly waving her hand in the air.