Ties That Bind

by Neeny Boucher

  **********

  Riley

  “It’s time to go, Riley,” Meg insisted. She’d dyed her hair platinum blonde and had scary alien shoes on. “Riley, have you told Christina?”

  Watching Dina and Jack leave made Riley’s chest ache. He was this far from breaking and running after her, but he held himself together. For years, his time off-grid had sustained him as an outlet for his pain through creativity, but right now: he hated it. He didn’t need or want it anymore because what he wanted was on her way back to Shanwick.

  He met Meg’s concerned eyes and shook his head. “No. I haven’t. There was never an appropriate time. I’ll tell her when I come back.”

  “Riley,” Meg whispered in horror. “She should know. She has the right to know!”

  “I know that,” Riley agreed, grimacing. “I do know that. It’s just she’s had enough to contend with. I don’t need to dump more shit on her.”

  Until this year, Christina had become an abstract in his life and then everything changed. When she came back, guilt weighed Riley down like a stone. If he could take back what he’d done, he would, but he couldn’t.

  Every time Riley tried to broach the subject, he’d lost his voice and instead, clung to their temporary happiness. The thought of losing her again was painful, but he’d made his choices, and he’d have to live with the consequences.

  Stepping forward, Meg touched his arm. “I’d want to know. I’d prefer the truth came from the man I loved and not someone else.”

  Riley waved Meg’s comments away, ignoring her advice and protestations. She was right, but he’d made his decision. He’d looked at it from every angle and deferred his confession until after he’d returned.

  Meg railed at him for a further fifteen minutes before he cut her off. “This is the last time I do this,” he sighed. “I won’t be doing this again, and if I do, she’ll be coming with me.”

  **********

  Three hours later, Riley arrived at Wausau Municipal Airport in Medford, Wisconsin, exhausted, and ready to crash. He drove slowly, processing all that had happened to him in the last few weeks. His life would seem empty after the chaos and energy with Christina, but this is what he’d signed on for many years ago.

  Unlocking the door of an old bungalow on the outskirts of town, Riley flipped the light switch, and almost wished he’d left it in darkness. Jed had arranged this place for him at the last minute when Lift was no longer an option. His eyes narrowed at the musty smell and the décor: 1970s dark wood, patterned wallpaper, and carpet that looked like someone had thrown up on it.

  It stood in stark contrast to the luxury he’d been enjoying the last week. The house belonged to Jed’s ex-wife’s recently deceased grandmother and the family wanted it renovated. This was the quid pro-quo: Riley fixed the eyesore before him and everyone left him alone thinking he was one of Jed’s home handyman friends. The only company he allowed to visit him was Jed because it was part of their ‘risk management’ plan.

  Riley found boxes of his stuff in the kitchen: notebooks, guitar, a stereo, headphones, and his tools. He unpacked them as a ritual: notebooks on the table, guitar close, and the tools kept separate from the music. It was practicality versus creativity; earth grounds air.

  He worked methodically setting the stereo up; no computers or audio files for him. In this endeavor, he preferred his music old school. After he’d checked three times to see if everything was in order, he went in search of an old friend.

  Riley found food in the fridge and freezer, and bottles of his ‘buddy’ in the cupboard. Uncapping a bottle of Scotch, he took a long swig, and sat down in an old chair. He had to resist the urge of calling Christina because it wouldn’t help either of them.

  He couldn’t think of Christina, not the way she was now, or the love that they shared. Dina had asked him to choose love over revenge and he had, but that hadn’t always been the case. Riley tapped into something darker and more primal in his creative process.

  It was one of the reasons he’d chosen to return to Medford. After his divorce from Christina, he’d found purpose in this town and an outlet for his rage. Here he’d faced up to some home truths. It was the knowledge of truth that weighed heavy on his heart now: that and memory.

  Chapter Eighteen: Lines

  Riley, The Past, Shanwick, October 2007

  “Riley, we’re coming in,” Jed called out.

  “Fuck off,” Riley snarled. “Unless you’re a chick and come to party, go away. You’re not welcome here.”

  The past few months had been a blur of alcohol and a steady procession of women to keep him company at night. He had no idea that being a broken hearted loser was such a chick magnet. Women seemed to want to try to mend his broken heart, but the joke was on them.

  They couldn’t get anywhere near his heart. He didn’t have one anymore and his only interest lay further south on the body. He was getting good at this game, as well as an expert at shuffling them out of the house in the morning.

  “Charming,” Mason Glenn laughed, barging into the house. “I don’t know what’s more appealing. Your stunning vocabulary or the body odor that we can smell from the door.”

  Riley chuckled. It was the closest he’d come to laughing for what seemed like a lifetime. Scowling at his friends, Riley swore under his breath. Jed’s eyes were full of concern, the interfering dick, but Mason looked wryly amused.

  “Love what you’ve done with the place,” Mason smirked. “The minimalist look is always a winner, especially combined with empty bottles and overflowing ashtrays. I also like the bearded man look. Very ZZ Top-”

  “What do you want?” Riley snapped. “What are you doing here? I want to be alone-”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard,” Mason laughed. “I hear you’re trying to overtake me in servicing the desperate in Shanwick. I hope you haven’t caught crabs in that beard of yours. Rumor has it the chowder you’ve been eating isn’t five star.”

  Jed laughed and Riley choked out a rusty sound in response. “What’s that?” Mason pointed at Riley’s notebook on the table.

  “Nothing,” Riley snapped, slamming the books shut. He’d been writing bad poetry and drawing pictures of his bed-pals. Getting them naked for art was a pretty efficient seduction technique. “Seriously,” he growled. “What do you want? I don’t have time for this shit.”

  Mason snorted and pointedly looked around the room. Riley got it. He wasn’t living a life-style of the rich and famous. He didn’t even have a job, not really, beyond trying to help out his father and Steven on the farm.

  Even then, his presence was due more to sufferance and familial obligation. That is, if he could drag himself out of bed and last the day without passing out. He preferred the night.

  “Well, Jed can go first, but in précis, both of us need you,” Mason said firmly. Riley groaned, but Mason ignored him. “Jed’s is more pressing, but I’ve an offer for you.”

  Jed had always been a happy-go-lucky sort of guy, the type that could make anyone laugh with his reflections of the world, but the compassion Riley saw in his eyes annoyed him. “Oh, right,” Riley sneered. “You have an offer for me? Yeah. Sure, what-the-fuck-ever. Who put you up to this?”

  “No one,” Jed frowned. “Okay, your family is worried about you and so are your friends, but I’m here because I need your help. Honest.”

  Riley stared at him in disbelief, but Jed continued quickly. “It’s my ex-wife and kids. The man she was with was violent to her, her and the kids. She’s moved back to her mother’s in Wisconsin, but I’ve bought them a house. It’s rough and needs fixing up. Once that’s done, I’m going to find the bastard that did this and beat him within an inch of his life.”

  Scowling, Riley tried to work out if this was a trick, but realized Jed was serious. He didn’t want to do this. Really didn’t want to do it, but found himself nodding in agreement. “Okay,” he sighed. “I’m not sure if I’ll be much help. My hands are a bit shaky at the moment, like the re
st of me, but I know my way around a paint brush-”

  “Now,” Mason leered, hardly containing his excitement. “You and I are rich. I’m richer than you, of course, but we’re loaded.”

  Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Mason nodded at Riley, his colorless eyes dancing in delight. “Oh, yes, my friend. We are rich. Fucking loaded.”

  “What?” Riley asked. “How?” This made no sense in his hung-over brain.

  “I sold my company,” Mason grinned. “The little one that you invested in; the little one that’s done good. It’s been in the works for sometime, but I waited until you finalized your divorce from Darth Martin.”

  At the mention of her name, Riley’s eyes went cold. “Don’t,” he hissed, but Mason got in his face.

  “Don’t what?” Mason retorted. “Don’t tell you I’ve been looking after your interests and we’ve just won a major victory? Fuck off. You’re a multi-millionaire and I’m about to make you richer. I’m about to buy a little gaming company and I want you to go in with me.”

  It was too much for Riley and he laughed until tears sprung in his eyes. All the times they’d fought about money and now they were rich. No, correction, now he was rich and she was gone.

  His friends didn’t say a word, letting him get it out. He had to laugh, or he would cry, and he wasn’t doing that. Contrary to popular belief, he still had some pride.

  “What I want you to do,” Mason continued, “is to be my right hand man. I want you to interview the personnel of the new company and give me a breakdown of their skill set.”

  Riley frowned, waving his hand in dismissal. “Mason, I don’t know anything about your company or people’s skill set. What the fuck is a skill set? I have no qualifications or interest. Go find someone else.”

  “No interest?” Mason hissed, leaning into Riley’s face, before wrinkling his nose and drawing back because of the smell. “You’re rich because of me and you’re going to get a whole lot richer. If you’re not interested, then you should be. The best form of revenge is success, Riley. I’ve been poor and I’ve been rich. I know which one I prefer and it isn’t having an empty wallet. Get your sorry ass up and show Darth Martin what she lost.”

  Riley rubbed his hands over his head, trying to clear the fog. He looked at his two friends, feeling a sense of helplessness. He wasn’t ready to face the world, but it had arrived at his doorstep.

  “This might surprise you, Riley,” Mason said quietly, his eyes serious. “But when you’re not drinking yourself to death and fucking your way through the hose beasts of Shanwick, you actually have a lot of good qualities. Granted, you have appalling taste in women, but I’m not sure Darth really is a woman. I view her as a refugee from the Planet Zoig.”

  Jed and Riley laughed. If there was one person that could get Riley out of his funk, it was Mason Glenn. His very presence charged a room for good or bad, usually bad, but Mason had the ability to make anything seem possible.

  “What if I’m shit at it?” Riley asked quietly. He didn’t think he could cope with betraying Mason’s confidence in him and yet another failure.

  “You won’t be,” Mason frowned, shaking his head. “You really under-estimate yourself and you have always been good at drawing people together. This is the time for you to reclaim your balls. You’re a natural leader, Riley, and most importantly, I trust you. There are thousands of people out there I could hire, but I don’t know them, and I don’t trust them. I trust you.”

  Riley was actually touched by Mason’s words and in all honesty, what did he have to lose? There was nothing left here for him. He had no place in this world and if he was to survive, he needed to find one.

  “So get your shit together,” Mason ordered. “Go do what you have to do with Jed and be in Seattle by the start of January. If you’re not there, I’ll understand. The choice is yours, but I’ll be disappointed.”

  “Okay,” Riley agreed. “I’ll think about it.” Turning to Jed, he sighed. “When are we leaving?”

  “Like yesterday,” Jed grimaced. “We need to start before the weather closes in. So, you go pack and um, are you going to shave the beard off?”

  “Maybe,” Riley pulled a face. “Why?” He quite liked the beard. It was his way of mourning.

  “It’s just what Mason said about crabs and chowder,” Jed muttered. “The house is for my ex-wife and kids. I won’t be pleased if they catch something and a shower wouldn’t go astray either. You stink.”

  Riley chuckled. “Okay, I’ll wash and shave the beard, but you know Mason was joking, right?”

  “Actually, I wasn’t,” Mason said. “Some of the women you’ve been with even I wouldn’t touch.”

  “Liar,” Riley retorted.

  Mason shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, I accept that. In fact, I have touched a few of them, repeatedly, but that was a long time ago. Money brings a whole different caliber of hedonism, my friend. Just you wait and see.”

  **********

  Riley, The Past, Medford, Wisconsin, November 2007

  “We need some help, Jed.”

  “I’ve got help. It’s you,” Jed retorted. “All my money is in this house. I can’t afford anyone else.”

  They’d arrived in Medford, Wisconsin in the middle of October and been steadily working on the house, trying to get it ready by Christmas. Medford was a small town, which was not too dissimilar to Shanwick, except Riley could be anonymous here. It seemed to be the gateway to somewhere else: the glacial flatlands and farming, or the endless scenic forests.

  Under normal circumstances, Riley would have driven through the blue-collar community to anywhere else, but he found Medford actually suited him. He was in no mood for a scenic tour and working with his hands helped ground him. The two men worked mainly in silence, sanding, scraping, painting and hanging doors, but they’d reached the limit of Riley’s experience.

  “I can afford someone,” Riley said quietly. “I’m rich, remember? Anyways, the guy I’m asking won’t cost much and I want him here for other things. I’ll pay.”

  Jed turned to stare at him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Who?”

  “Jack Martin,” Riley said quietly. “We need Jack. He can fix anything.”

  Jed groaned. “No.”

  Riley smiled sadly. “Yes. If you want this house ready by Christmas, we need Jack.”

  They needed someone and Riley needed Jack. His expertise on renovating old houses was phenomenal and also, he needed the old man’s advice. Understandably, Jed was nervous, but he reassured him he shouldn’t be concerned.

  Riley had come a long way in the last couple of weeks with Jed dishing out ‘tough love’, curbing some of Riley’s more unsavory habits. Gone were the alcohol and cigarettes. Even the moping was kept to a minimum.

  If it were anyone else, Riley would have rebelled, but Jed had a way of being menacing in his encouragement. He’d put Riley on a strict regime of food and exercise, allowing Riley to channel his aggression in running or hitting a bag. His mind began to clear and get him focused, but it created other problems.

  Without anesthetizing himself with alcohol, he couldn’t sleep and if he did, it was broken and brought back dreams of Dina. He replayed their relationship over and over in his head. Every mistake he’d made, every hurtful thing they’d ever said or done to one another. His mind became his enemy, pouring salt into open, gaping wounds.

  Riley couldn’t get a break from himself and although he found relief in the simple process of working with his hands, nothing stilled his mind. After one particularly restless night, he got up and made his way to the shabby kitchen. Sitting alone at the table with his memories, he watched the sun rise. He felt stuck in no man’s land.

  There was no going back and he couldn’t stay in this place. It was his own personal hellhole, one his own mind was making. The only way was forward, but where to and how?

  “Can’t sleep?” Jed said behind him, making him start. “Me neither.”

  The two men watched the sunr
ise in silence and in that companionship, Riley found his voice. “Do you know how much of a loser I must be, Jed? I couldn’t make it work with the one person put on earth just for me.”

  “You’re not a loser,” Jed growled. “Or most of us are losers, take your pick. I got my girlfriend pregnant when I was barely twenty and she was eighteen. Two years later, we had another one on the way. We got married and I had no idea how to be a husband or father. She was a sweet girl and I broke her heart.”

  Listening as Jed confessed his sins, Riley was grateful to be out of his own head and focused on someone else. “She goes for bastards, Riley,” Jed sighed with tears in his eyes, “including me. She’s had one after the other, but the latest one was the worst, and he’s going to pay. This house is the first decent thing I’ve ever done for them. Sure, I’ve sent them money, but I’ve given them nothing of myself. At least you had the courage to give her yourself. I couldn’t even do that.”

  “It didn’t make a difference though,” Riley said. “I still lost her and I can’t get it out of my head. It’s like a demon in there whispering my failures over and over again.”

  Jed grimaced. “You’re going to have to do something about that. It’s not good for you to fixate on your misery. It’ll feck you up worse than the booze or the whoring. Believe me.”

  Riley made himself a coffee, handing Jed his mandatory cup of tea. “To losers,” he joked, raising his cup. “And to magnificent bitches that fuck us up.”

  “To assholes,” Jed responded, “bitches, and losers. There must be hundreds of us out there, thousands! Maybe we should start a club or something?”

  Riley laughed and then his eyes narrowed. “You got a pen?” Opening his scrapbook, Riley started writing. Ever since he’d stopped binge drinking, words and lines came uninvited into his head.