“Just keep remembering it was the illness.”
“Yeah, but people get help for stuff all the time. Addicts get into recovery. He thought there was nothing wrong with him living like this, making Mom live like this. Making me grow up like this.”
“The sickest people sometimes don’t realize just how sick they are.” He glanced at the time on his phone. “We should go back to Ross and Loren’s. My brothers and the producer will be here soon.”
He offered her a hand to help her up but she stared at it without taking it. “I’m going to look like a horrible person,” she softly said. “I’m going to look like I didn’t give a shit about him or my mom.”
“No,” he insisted. “You won’t. You’ll be a voice of hope. Who knows how many kids out there will see you, see your story, and think okay, someone else survived this, so will I?”
That’s when she met his gaze again. “You think so?”
He firmly nodded. “I know so.”
With a sad breath even he felt to the depths of his soul, she took his hand and let him help her up. “Thank you, Mark. I really appreciate this. I know I’ve said it before, and probably will again, but you’ve made this just a little bit easier to deal with.”
He squeezed her hand and leaned in to kiss her, glad when she didn’t pull away. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’ve seen your worst secret, and it doesn’t scare me. I can handle this. I can deal with this. I can fix this for you, and I will. If you’ll let me.”
She threw her arms around him, hugging him. “Thank you.”
As he held her, content to stand there as long as she’d let him, he inhaled the scent of her hair. “You’re very welcome.”
Chapter Eight
Around one thirty, Ted gathered Josh and headed for the Barrone house. Since he knew exactly where Ross and Loren lived, he didn’t even need to consult his GPS to find the place.
Not to mention, Mark’s truck sat parked outside.
“Well?” Josh muttered. “Do we pull him aside now and give him an attitude adjustment, or what?”
“Or what,” Ted said as he reached for the door handle. “I don’t want to jump all over him about this and drive him away. We need to work together as a team, the way we always do. We can’t let him forget that.”
“Good plan. Lacking specifics, but still greeeat.”
Ted turned on him. “You want to offer up something more helpful than sarcasm, be my guest. Until then, shut your pie hole.”
Josh snapped him a two-fingered salute from his brow, but kept his mouth shut.
Ted had parked on the street behind Mark’s truck. Getting out, they headed across the street to Ross and Loren’s house. Josh rang the doorbell.
Ross answered the door. “Hey, guys,” he greeted them, shaking hands with them. “Come on in.”
They’d been to the Connellys’ house several times, but under far different circumstances. Like there were normally people in various states of nakedness being beaten, or scening in some other way.
In the living room, Mark was talking with Loren, and a woman who Ted guessed was Corrine Barrone.
And Essie.
He would have known her anywhere. A little older, as they all were, she still looked like she used to.
Only better. Prettier. More mature.
Hell.
If he was already feeling like that and hadn’t even spoken with her yet, he suspected what Mark must be going through.
They were about to sit down and get started when the doorbell rang.
“That must be Purson,” Josh said.
Ross went to answer the door and returned a moment later with Purson Gibraltar. Ted considered himself firmly in the straight department, but if he’d been inclined to swing the other way, the producer’s piercing blue eyes would have been enough to coax him in that direction. He liked Purson as a, well, person. The man was personable, easy to work with, and always had a knack for gently coaxing difficult clients into doing what needed to be done.
For some reason, their relations with the hoarders always went more smoothly when the film crews were present. Ted didn’t know if it was because the people were aware of being filmed, or because of Purson’s special flavor of persuasion, or a combination of the two.
Whatever it was, despite the extra logistical aggravations it sometimes caused them, and the inconvenience it caused in their personal lives in terms of needing to be especially discreet, Ted never minded working with Purson.
Mark introduced them. “Corrine and Essie Barrone, this is Purson Gibraltar. He’s the producer we told you about.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Purson said as he shook hands with them. He carried a large laptop bag Ted suspected had more than just a laptop in it. “Have they explained to you what we do?”
“Sort of,” Corrine said. “He said the network will underwrite some of the expenses if you film it.”
“Yes. The network pays for at least half of the expenses in exchange for filming the process.”
“Essie has some concerns,” Mark said. “Can I talk with you for a moment before we begin?”
Shit. Ted closely watched his younger brother. Whatever had happened between Mark and Essie in the hours before he and Josh arrived, it had hit Mark squarely in the heart. He could recognize that look anywhere.
When Mark started to lead Purson down the hall, Ted grabbed Josh by the arm and set out after them.
He didn’t give Mark a chance to protest. “Whatever you’re going to say, it needs to be said to us, too,” Ted softly said when they were out of earshot of the others.
They stepped into a bedroom and pulled the door shut. Mark looked uncomfortable. “Essie doesn’t want a lot of screen time. She left home when she graduated high school and was estranged from her father since then because of his hoarding. I agree with her, that she doesn’t want to be made to look like she abandoned her mother and is acting callous about her father’s death. I know you all are pretty good about that, but I wanted to make sure.”
Purson nodded. “I see. So what is the situation with her father?”
“She’s not happy he’s dead, but she’s very angry. Understandably so. She felt abandoned by him.”
“And her mom?”
“She’s here for her mom, isn’t she? Essie hasn’t seen or spoken to her mom in over five years, yet she immediately flew home without her mom even asking her to.”
Purson fingered the bloodstone amulet he wore around his neck as he seemed to ponder what Mark had said. “Okay, I get it. We need to be sensitive to her, minimize her air time, and make sure in edits she doesn’t look like she just turned her back on what happened.”
Mark looked relieved. “Exactly. She was a kid when she left. She didn’t have any power against her father. I’d really like that to be the message, that kids feel powerless.”
“Okay. No problem.” He shook with Mark. “Let’s go make this deal.”
They returned to the living room. Ted couldn’t help but feel a little bad at how nervous Essie looked.
Cut it out.
The unrequited protective side of Ted wanted to drape an arm around Essie’s shoulders, cuddle her close, and tell her everything would be all right. He was smart enough to recognize “damsel in distress” syndrome when he saw it, even in himself.
Didn’t mean he was immune to it.
And if he wasn’t immune to it, he knew Mark wouldn’t be, either.
Before any of them could explain things, Purson jumped right in, sitting next to the women at the table and flashing them a brilliant smile.
“I really appreciate you allowing us to do this in what I know is a very trying time. Our goal isn’t to sensationalize what happened. Our goal is to give others hope that there is help, a better life out there.”
Ted watched as the producer turned his focus on Essie. “While we would like to film you, to get your statements about what you went through growing up, I want to make sure we honor your experience in as respectf
ul and truthful a way as possible. I assure you, we don’t capitalize on situations just to raise our ad revenue. We produce a show that has helped others with hoarding disorders seek help. That has given the families of hoarders the strength to know they’re not alone, and to help them get through this. That’s our goal.”
Essie nodded. “Thank you.” She glanced at her mom. “Look, I loved my dad. But I can’t lie about how angry I am at him for what he did to me growing up, what he did to Mom all these years.”
She reached out and wrapped her fingers around her mom’s hand. “Nothing I said or did was going to make him change. He had to want to. He didn’t want to, and I couldn’t keep living like that. Now I’ve got my mom back, and I want her to have a good life.”
Her mom covered Essie’s hand with her other hand. “This will be okay, sweetheart. We’ll get through it together.”
Purson flashed them another of his smiles, the kind that Ted knew would make him wet if he was a hetero woman. “Good. We’re on the same page.”
They spent an hour going through the network’s contracts, release forms, and setting up a shooting schedule. They’d have a skeleton film crew there early the next morning, in time to catch the delivery of the storage containers. Today, Purson wanted to do a walk-through of the house and property with a portable camera he’d brought with him, stashed in his laptop bag, as Ted had suspected.
Ted also knew he’d have a struggle to maintain his professional distance. Essie wasn’t just a beautiful woman, she was emotionally fragile, no matter how strong she was trying to be for her mom.
She had deep emotional wounds from her childhood that she was just now beginning to debride.
It was also clear to him now why she’d jilted their brother. And Ted felt more than a little shame at the thoughts he’d had about her back then, the anger toward her over dumping Mark. Had he known what she was going through then, he’d like to think he would have helped Mark support her emotionally, as a friend at least, to get through it.
Then again, teenaged boys were sometimes lacking in that department. They could be total jackasses. He remembered his jealousy that she’d been interested in Mark back then, and how he’d felt more than a little smug satisfaction when she’d dumped Mark, before realizing how deeply his brother had cared for her.
That’s in the past. It was time for a clean sweep, time to get to work and help her and her mom get through this. And to help Mark however he’d need them.
Because if the look on Mark’s face was any indication, his brother was once again an enamored teenager, entranced by the quiet girl who’d managed to fly under everyone’s radar.
* * * *
Josh kept his mouth shut while Mark, Ted, and Purson handled getting the paperwork and schedule arranged. He couldn’t help but watch Essie as they went through everything.
She was still as beautiful as he remembered her.
Yes, he’d felt jealous of his little brother, and then angry at the girl who’d broken Mark’s heart.
He could bust Mark’s balls all he wanted, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to throw stones at the walls of his glass house. He’d been lucky that his divorce had been quick and tidy, in terms of paperwork and execution.
That it had happened at all still left his heart raw and chafing. No, he and Suzanne hadn’t been the most compatible of people in the beginning, but he’d thought they’d worked well together.
It wasn’t until one day she announced that he wasn’t submissive enough for her and that she’d found someone else that he realized just how much in trouble their relationship had been. Sure they’d argued from time to time, and sure, they liked to play around in the bedroom, but he’d never realized how deeply their hidden discord ran. How much they butted heads about things in their relationship, both of them vying for control.
Until he went to a munch with another friend of his and was introduced to a whole new world. He didn’t realize how mainstream people like him really were, that there was a world out there he’d been clueless about.
How there were women who wanted a man to step in and take charge, and that he wasn’t a domineering asshole for wanting to find one of those women.
Maybe a woman who enjoyed being tied up while he fucked her brains out.
A lot of missing pieces had fallen into place for him the more he learned. And then once he’d gotten Ted, and then Mark, involved with his “mutual friends,” his brothers had also realized what was lacking in their own lives.
The Dominant in Josh wanted to drape an arm around Essie’s shoulders, hold her close, and tell her to stand back and watch this while he fixed everything for her.
The man used to dealing with hoarders for a living knew he couldn’t quite do that.
Especially since Mark was making moonie eyes over her. Sharing a woman and a play partner was one thing. Sharing his brother’s first true love, a love Mark had never gotten over, was another thing entirely.
Then again, the point was moot. Essie didn’t live here and had a life to get back to. Entertaining any kind of thoughts along those lines was a guaranteed path toward disappointment.
No, better to sit back and wait. If we’re ever meant to find a woman to have a permanent relationship with, we will.
For now, he’d simply do what he did best—be a big brother and try to help restore order where chaos reigned.
Chapter Nine
Essie tried and failed to regain her equilibrium following her little interludes with Mark. It didn’t help that his older brothers were still as hunky as she remembered. The producer, Purson Gibraltar, was equally hunky, although she didn’t feel the same urges toward him that she felt toward Mark, Josh, and Ted.
Especially Mark.
This could be trouble.
Here she was, dealing with all this crap, and her libido had picked now of all times to rise up like a Hallelujah chorus.
It’s not fair.
Then again, one thing she’d had hammered home into her brain from when she was a kid was life was anything but fair.
Tonight she’d be torturing herself again by willingly going to their place for dinner.
I’m an idiot.
The next step in the process was for Purson to set both her and her mother up with wearable microphones before taking them across the street.
“I’m going to ask you a series of questions,” he said, “and then in edits there will be a narrator who leads in with the comment or question that puts your statement into context. Okay?”
She wasn’t stupid enough to think “reality” shows didn’t have some level of scripting, but to now be in the middle of one herself felt surreal and added to her discomfort and unsettled mental state.
Essie hated feeling like that with a passion.
“Okay,” she agreed.
He got her mom’s microphone set up first, then checked the sound levels. Then it was Essie’s turn.
“Do you guys have to wear these during the taping?” she asked Mark.
He gave her what she interpreted as a kind smile. “Sometimes. Depends on what they’re shooting.” He hooked a thumb at Ted. “He spends more time in front of the cameras than Josh and I do. And they have sound techs with boom mics that record, too.”
Once they were ready, and Purson was happy with how the mics were recording, they headed over to the house. Essie’s mom got to be the one to unlock the garage door. Purson had her go first, as he followed her with the video camera.
“How long were you married, Mrs. Barrone?” he asked as she led the way through the garage.
“Thirty-six years,” she said.
“And Essie is your only child?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you stay with your husband so long when he was a hoarder?”
“Because he wasn’t this bad at first. And I took a vow to stick by him until death do us part.” She stopped and turned to face him. “Now, he’s dead. And as horrible as it sounds, now I can have a life again.”
&n
bsp; “Did you love your husband?”
“Of course I loved him. I loved him very much. That doesn’t mean I didn’t get very angry with him or what he did. If I didn’t love him, I wouldn’t have stayed all these years. I always hoped I could change him. That he could change.”
“That was good, Mrs. Barrone,” Purson said. “Let’s go on into the kitchen.”
They made their way there. Essie hung back, uncomfortably aware of how close Mark stood to her, his two brothers behind him. Ross and Loren hung back to stay out of the shots for now.
“Where did you find your husband?” Purson asked.
Her mom pointed at the floor. “Right here. When I came out yesterday morning.”
“Where did you sleep?”
She led the way into the living room, where her cockpit area had been set up. “They were nice enough to move my clothes for me already.” She spread her arms, indicating the sofa. “This is all the room I had for myself. I couldn’t even sleep in my own bed anymore because of all the stuff he put in there.”
“Okay, I’m going to ask you a question, and I understand it might upset you, but it’s something people are going to want to know. And you’re not the only one who’s felt like this, but it will help others to hear your explanation, all right?”
Essie’s gut tightened, but she didn’t interrupt.
“All right,” her mom said.
“Why didn’t you clean out the house?”
“Oh, believe me, I tried to clean up behind him. He’d yell and scream and argue and fight with me and bring more stuff in when I wasn’t home. It got to the point where, after years of it, I didn’t have the energy to fight him any longer. I picked and fought the battles I knew I could win and stuck with those. I know it looks bad, but I can’t do anything about what people think about me. They didn’t live through what I lived through. Or what my daughter had to endure. Now that he’s gone, I can get rid of all this…junk for good and finally have a relationship with my daughter again.”
A Clean Sweep Page 8
