Insidious

by Aleatha Romig

  “Are you going to stay at the penthouse, or go out to the estate?” she asked.

  “Honestly, I haven’t given it that much thought. For now, I’ll be at the apartment.”

  She put her hand on my knee. “I know it’s hard to think about the room where he died. Usually they recommend that you don’t do anything to it for a while.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve already had it cleaned out. It smelled. The furniture is gone. His clothes are gone.” Val’s eyes widened as I spoke. “I’ve had a few things boxed, but honestly, I think there are charities that can benefit.” The car stopped.

  “That’s nice, but you shouldn’t—”

  This time I patted her knee. “Sis, I love you. I know you know what should be done. I’m doing what I need to do. If I regret it later, you can tell me I told you so.”

  The door opened and the sunshine streamed in. Reaching for my dark sunglasses and securing my purse, I scooted toward the door. “Stay with me, Val. Please run interference with Mom. I can’t deal with her right now.”

  Val nodded as we both stood. Under my black hat and dark glasses, my gray eyes shimmered with delight. I wanted to watch the vault close once and for all.

  Stoically, we stood, Val, myself, and Travis, Mother, Marcus, and Lyle behind us as well as a few special mourners who’d been invited to this private ceremony. The minister offered more words of praise for the life lost too young. I even caught his mention of the reward in heaven for Stewart’s devoted wife. He was wrong. I would never see heaven, and my reward was the sound of the small door closing.

  I’d done it. The evidence was gone and so was Stewart.

  Walking back to the car, Marilyn reached for my arm and whispered. “Please, Victoria. I need to speak with you. Tell that goon to take Valerie to the other car with the boys. I need to speak to you alone.”

  “Mother…” Val said.

  I looked at Marilyn’s hand on my arm and slowly brought my eyes to hers. Through clenched teeth, I whispered, “This is hardly the time or the place for—”

  With more spirit than she’d had since Randall’s death, since she’d truly become dependent on Stewart and me, she retaliated. “This isn’t about money. I know Marcus’ tuition is paid.”

  My eyes widened. Money was our only topic of conversation. What the hell did she think I’d want to say to her? She misinterpreted my change of expression.

  “Thank you for that, for the money.”

  Those words of appreciation were spoken for Stewart, not for me. After the first few times of his demanding gratitude from her, she too learned her place, at least with him. The fact she’d just offered it to me was rather comical.

  Her complexion paled as she leaned closer. I saw Travis approaching as her next words registered.

  “You need to know something. There are things I never told you.”

  Travis began to speak, but she hurriedly continued, “Your father—your biological father—was at the funeral. I saw him.”

  The world went black.

  ALONE WITH TRAVIS, within the cool interior of the limousine, he spoke, “I assume that catching your ass before it hits the pavement is an acceptable exception to your earlier mandate?” His dark eyes glistened as he watched my every move.

  Instead of answering, I pursed my lips together, smoothed my black dress over my trembling legs, and glared at him.

  With Val and Marilyn still outside of the car, Travis leaned closer as his lips quirked into a lopsided smirk. “I believe the appropriate response would be ‘well, yes, Travis, thank you for saving my ass. You’re so right. This was an acceptable exception.’”

  I narrowed my glare. “You seem to have an issue with who’s in charge here. It’s still me.”

  “I’m very well aware of that. If it were me, I’d throw your mother’s bony ass on the ground and back this fucking car over her. She’s a bigger pain in the ass than you.”

  I couldn’t contain my laugh. “Why, Travis, I believe that’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me. Who knew that under that asshole exterior you had a personality?”

  Pulling a bottle of water from the car’s small refrigerator, he handed it to me and asked, “What happened out there?” Was I actually hearing a genuine hint of concern in his tone?

  Taking the cool water, I shrugged and made myself drink.

  “Tell me, Mrs. Harrington, will Dr. Conway or Mrs. Sound be riding with you? Or both? Or neither?”

  I sat taller, feeling less shaky after having a couple of sips of water. “I want to hear what my mother has to say. She wants to speak to me privately. Ask Val to ride with the boys.” I smoothed my dress again, though it didn’t need it. I looked back to his dark, questioning eyes. “Tell the drivers to go directly to my mother’s house. I don’t want her or the boys coming back to the penthouse with me. After we drop them off, Val can ride with me. She said something about spending the night.” I sighed. “Honestly, I think I might want the medication she promised.”

  Travis’ brow rose in question. “Please don’t tell me that we’re going to add prescription drug use to my list of activities to oversee.”

  I still had a difficult time believing that my activities were that important to him. I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. Do you think the good Dr. Conway would do anything illegal?”

  He shrugged. “I’m less likely to suspect her than others.” What the hell? “Shall I get Mrs. Sound?” he asked again, giving me another chance to change my mind.

  Exhaling, I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Mrs. Harrington, although I doubt it will be yours.” The last part he added with a smirk.

  Next, he opened the car door and stepped out, momentarily leaving me alone in the large space. As the warming October breeze blew through the open door, I listened to the voices. The first ones that came into range were Marcus and Lyle. Their camaraderie brought a smile to my lips. The boys were as close as Val and I. Although they’d been raised considerably differently than we, their closeness shone light on my dark heart. Apparently, having a bitch like Marilyn as a mother caused you to seek a confidant and a friend. Perhaps she had done one thing right in her parenting. She gave each of us that special sibling. I leaned my head out of the car. “Goodbye, Marcus and Lyle. Thank you for being here.”

  They both smiled, reminding me of their father. They both had his brown hair and green eyes. The older they became, the more Randall I saw in them and the less Marilyn.

  “You’re welcome, Vikki,” Marcus offered as he came near and reached down to offer me a hug. “Hope you feel better.”

  I hugged him back. “I will. I need some rest.”

  While continuing our hug, he whispered near my ear, “I know it’s you. Thanks.”

  I pulled back, opened my eyes wide, and glanced toward our mother.

  He shrugged. “She wants everyone to think that she’s the one paying for everything, but I’m not as young and stupid as I used to be.”

  Grinning, I ruffled his hair. “Hey, no one ever said you were stupid. Stupid people don’t get accepted to the University of Miami.”

  As he stood taller and smiled, I saw a man where there used to be a boy. “Val told me that you were accepted there too. I’m sorry you didn’t get to go. It’s really a great school. I haven’t been there that long, but I think I’m going to like it.”

  At one time attending the University of Miami had been my greatest desire. Was that me or was it someone else? As Marcus spoke, Marilyn came near and put her arm around him. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

  “Marcus,” I said, with a sad smile. “Keep me posted. Your old sister is proud too.”

  “You’re not that old,” he quipped with a nod as he walked back to the second car.

  “What did you tell him?” Marilyn asked as she joined me in the first limousine.

  Before I could answer, Travis peered in, shook his head, and shut the door.

  “Nothing, Mother. I didn’t tell h
im that I was paying his tuition, if that’s your concern. However, I suggest you try honesty with at least one or two of your children. It might work out better for you.”

  She looked down. “Better than this?” Her voice sounded uncharacteristically weak.

  “Yes, better than this. Don’t try to play me. I’m not in the mood. You just dropped a fucking bomb on me at my husband’s funeral. We’re taking you home. Start talking.”

  “Home? No, Victoria, I’m going to stay with you, to take care of you, to help you.”

  The car began to move as a laugh rang from somewhere deep inside of me. “No fucking way. I need some peace and quiet. You’d better start talking. Your time is ticking.”

  She swallowed and stared toward the window. “I understand how you may feel like we’re not close—”

  “Fucking stop! We’re not. You never raised me or cared for me. When I was young, you shipped me off to other family while you lived in a fucking bottle. Then when you got clean and married Randall, you shipped Val and me off to boarding schools.”

  “It was only because—” she began.

  “Because looking at me upset you. I remind you too much of my father and my twin. Hell, I probably still do. I’ve heard it my whole damn life. I’m not rehashing it all, but you and Randall fucking sold me.”

  “That’s not entirely true.”

  My head snapped toward her. “Tell me, what part of that statement isn’t entirely true?”

  She became suddenly obsessed with a piece of lint that desperately needed extrication from her dress. “It was a desperate situation. You don’t know what it’s like. You haven’t had to deal with things like—”

  My patience was wearing thin. “Marilyn, you have about fifteen minutes until we reach your door. I’ll never forgive you for what you did to me. Don’t expect it. Move on.”

  “Victoria, look at you. You’re a twenty-nine-year-old beautiful woman with more money than I can even imagine. So you married when you were young; things could be a lot worse. If Stewart hadn’t offered to marry you, things would have been much worse.”

  Offered? Is that what he did or did he buy me? “Really, mother? Worse for whom? For me or for you? And by the way, I’m twenty-eight. Keep waiting for that mother-of-the-year award. I’m sure it’s coming any day.”

  “Victoria, hear me out. You said to try honesty. That’s what I want to do. Will you listen?”

  There was something in her voice, something I didn’t recognize. I nodded.

  She straightened her neck and began. “I loved your father—your biological father—like no one else I’ve ever loved.” She moved her gaze toward the window as her tone became whimsical. “Our romance was something like you read about in books. It was, for lack of a better word, intense. He was unlike anyone I’d ever known. We weren’t from the same kind of family. Neither of our parents approved of us being together.”

  “Mother, you’ve mentioned Johnathon a handful of times in my entire life. Why was he at Stewart’s funeral?”

  She looked at me, her gray eyes clouded with a veil of confusion. “No, Victoria. Not Johnathon. Carlisle.”

  What the fuck? Carlisle? Who the fuck was Carlisle? My eyes opened wide in shock. Would her fucking bombshells never stop? I was speechless.

  Marilyn’s gaze again went toward the window, momentarily mesmerized with the streets of Miami as building after building passed by. Finally, she continued, “It’s true that I never told you any of this. Part of the reason was that I blamed you for ruining our marriage, but…” Her stone-cold hand reached for mine, its touch sending shivers down my spine. “…I also didn’t tell you, because I wanted to protect you.”

  “From what? I don’t understand.”

  “Carlisle and I were young and madly in love. It was passionate and volatile. I don’t know if I’d wish that type of love on anyone. In hindsight, I can say it wasn’t healthy. At the time, it was all-consuming. Carlisle came from a different world. He overwhelmed me. Against both of our families’ wishes, we eloped. With mine, it meant we didn’t talk. His was different. He didn’t want to avoid them. He wanted to prove to them that he could be part of the family, the business, and follow his heart.”

  She took a breath. “God, Victoria, this is so hard.”

  Did she fucking want me to feel sorry for her? “You’re telling me that this man, Carlisle, whom I’ve never heard of before was at my husband’s funeral?”

  “Please, let me say what I need to say.”

  I gestured with my hand, indicating for her to go on.

  “Carlisle’s family was very male dominated. The only way for a woman to move up the hierarchy was to bear sons. For that reason, older women, like Carlisle’s grandmother, were respected. She didn’t like me. When we went to her, to tell her that we had married, she claimed that since we weren’t married in the church, we weren’t really married. She cursed our union and our children. Carlisle was the eldest son. It was his responsibility to have a son, someone to take over the family business. Though his grandmother wasn’t involved in the business, she was still revered by the family. Her curse was that we would never have children. You can imagine how excited we were when I became pregnant. It was a miracle. When the doctors told us that we were having twins, we were elated. Carlisle told his parents. At the time his younger brother was engaged. If Niccolo had the first son, the business would go to him.” She looked out the window. “It was a crazy and scary life. As you can imagine, the family business wasn’t legal.”

  I nodded, wanting her to keep talking.

  My mother’s expression darkened. “You know what happened with the pregnancy.” She gave me the familiar stare. “Carlisle blamed me.” Her gray eyes narrowed. “He also blamed you, and yes, I blamed you.

  “When we learned that our son had died, Carlisle found himself in the position, or maybe I should say, with the opportunity, where he could back out of his commitment to me, to us. It was his chance at a fresh start. Like I said, in his world sons were of utmost importance.” She added, with noticeable sadness, “Women who couldn’t give those to their husbands were disposable. He was still young. If he abandoned us, he had a chance of fulfilling his destiny.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I interrupted. “The woman doesn’t determine the sex. Just because my twin died… you could still bear sons. You have, two.”

  “Please, let me go on.”

  I nodded.

  “Though I begged him and I couldn’t imagine my life without him, he left us. After all, with his grandmother’s curse, there was no guarantee that I could give him the son he wanted. Months before you were born, he left us and had our marriage annulled. I fell apart. I’m not proud to say that I was ready to blame you for two deaths, your brother’s and mine. I was that close. I didn’t realize until later that my death before your birth was what his family wanted.

  “Before you were born, I met Johnathon Conway. Johnathon knew enough about Carlisle’s family to know that I needed to get away. Johnathon and I moved up north and married. We stayed up there until after Val was born. Johnathon was a good man, but if I were honest with him or with myself… I never really loved him. My life was void without your father. There was a hole that no one could fill. Johnathon tried; however, instead of allowing him to do that I turned to alcohol. A little over a year after Val was born he left. He was a good man, but after a while he couldn’t handle having a drunk wife and two little girls. I came back to Florida, and tried to re-acclimate with my family. They tried to convince me to stop drinking.” She looked my way and back to the window. “I didn’t want help. Every time I looked at you, I saw Carlisle and thought about what could have been.

  “After Johnathon divorced me, I spiraled even farther downward. It’s true: my mother and sisters cared for you when I couldn’t.”

  Too much information. My heart sank as I tried to make sense of her confession. “Johnathon Conway was Val’s father, but not mine?”

  She looked down. “Valeri
e doesn’t know. She thinks you’re both Johnathon’s.”

  Because that is what we’d been told.

  “Please don’t tell her,” she pleaded. “Johnathon encouraged me to tell my family that he fathered both of you.” She looked down. “He really tried. I blamed you for the end of that marriage too. I mean, I drank because as you grew, you looked more and more like your father. I kept thinking that if only you had been the one to not survive. If only your brother had lived.”

  That’s fucking great. Sorry to disappoint.

  Seemingly unaware of how hurtful she was, Marilyn continued, “We’d already established a ruse about you. There was no sense denying it. According to everything we told people, you died. You were born two months prematurely and didn’t survive. Our story was that Johnathon and I conceived you on our wedding night.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “Victoria, you are twenty-nine. Your birthday isn’t in May, it’s October ninth of the year before. You recently turned twenty-nine.”

  “Why? Why would you do that?”

  “It was Johnathon’s idea. In Carlisle’s mind he’d almost lost his place in the family business due to you. Making it seem like you were Johnathon’s and not Carlisle’s was to protect you. We had the date on your birth certificate changed. According to our story, the baby I was due to deliver in October never lived. She died just like her twin.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “There was more about your father, but with you and me out of the way, he made his way with another woman, one the family liked. The whole ordeal was a lot for me to handle,” Marilyn went on. “I didn’t do it well. As you know Randall saved me. You know that we met in group therapy. My addiction was alcohol and his was gambling. I’ve never drunk again, but Randall continued to fight his demons; however, even those weren’t what you thought.

  “Your true identity would cause a major wrinkle in their finely constructed nobility. There were some people who would say that because you lived, Carlisle’s place within the family wasn’t secure. In their business, trust is essential. If it were determined that he’d lied about the identity of his firstborn, it could be the first string to unravel more than they wanted to reveal.”