Life some assembly requi.., p.14
Life, Some Assembly Required, page 14
He expected Cynthia to sit at the table, but she leaned up against the counter. “I’m sorry, John.”
“You might've called,” he said as evenly as he could. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story, and not a good one.” She flicked a glance at Torey.
John said, “Tor, why don’t you grab a couple of cokes and take one up to your brother. Let Mom and me talk for a bit.”
She tossed her head. “I’m not a baby. I can hear adult shit.”
Cynthia said, “Watch the language!” at the same moment that he said, “Maybe it’s easier for your mom not to have you hear it.”
Torey heaved a deliberate sigh, looking only at him. “All right. But I’m not going back to California. Ever.”
Cynthia managed a tired smile. “No. We’re not. Don’t worry.”
“Okay, then.” Torey bent to the fridge, pulled out two cans and headed up the stairs.
John waited until her footsteps passed the landing, then said, “Cynthia, what’s going on?”
Cynthia put a hand on the bulge of her stomach. “I’ve left Brandon.”
“Does he know that?”
“Oh yes. Actually, he asked for a divorce first.”
“Bastard,” John muttered. “How long till the baby’s due?”
“Less than two months. June tenth. That’s part of the problem.”
“I thought he wanted a child.”
Cynthia’s smile twisted bitterly. “Oh, he did. A perfect son to carry on his name. The problem is, I had an amnio and this baby's a girl. And she has Down syndrome.”
“Oh, hon. I’m so sorry.” He put a hand on her arm.
“Brandon wanted me to have an abortion, of course. Even though I was almost twenty weeks along when we got the results. I said no.”
John rubbed her arm gently.
She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears, which she scrubbed away roughly. “John, I’m not going to lose another baby. Not ever!”
His throat ached as he met her eyes. He knew both of them were taken back to that long-ago day when Daniel died. He gathered her against him, her big belly awkward. She clung to him, whispering, “Damn Brandon anyway. I’m raising this child.”
He laughed damply and kissed her hair. “That’s the spirit.” And looked up into Ryan’s eyes as he came into the kitchen.
Ryan’s face shuttered, like blinds dropping over all emotion. He said blandly, “Hey, John. Cynthia. I saw Torey run upstairs.”
John set Cynthia away from him carefully. Not fast. Not guiltily. He had no reason to feel guilty. “Hey, Ry. Cynthia was telling me that Brandon has decided he doesn’t want a baby after all. Which just shows what an idiot he is. There’s nothing more wonderful than a child.”
“Of course.” Ryan limped a couple of steps closer and pulled out a chair. “You should sit down, Cynthia. You look tired.”
John held her elbow until she was safely seated, and then stepped back. “Ryan’s right. Can I get you some water? Tea?”
“Water would be good.”
They were all silent as he went to the fridge, found a bottle, opened it for her. She took a small sip. Ryan leaned against the counter, eyeing her.
She set the bottle on the table, playing with the ring around the neck with a fingertip. Eventually she looked up at them. “I’m sorry about coming here without notice, but I had to move fast.”
“Why?” John scowled. “Did Brandon threaten you?”
“Not like that. But…” She glanced at Ryan. “My baby has Down syndrome, and Brandon wasn’t happy. First he wanted me to have an abortion. Once I passed the legal limit for that, he started talking about finding a good institution for her. I said no. I’m going to raise her and take care of her. When he finally believed I meant it, he flipped his lid. Told me he’d divorce me if I kept her.”
“Aw, wouldn’t that be just too bad,” Ryan drawled. “You’re better off.”
“Maybe.” She dropped her gaze. “He’s a flattering, generous guy when things are going well. He always treated me like I was important, beautiful. Took me on trips, bought me things, showed me off to people, let me help plan our lives and entertain powerful people and make connections for him.”
John stayed quiet with an effort.
After a pause, she sighed. “I knew he was a perfectionist, but so am I.” She flicked a glance at John. “That was part of why John and I didn’t stay together. I wanted things done right, and he just wanted them smooth and easy.”
“I don’t think that’s quite fair,” Ryan started to say.
John shook his head at him. “Go on.”
“Well, Brandon’s even more like that than I am. When things were good, we had lovely homes and traveled, and it was fun. Even the first year in California was fine. And we both really wanted a baby. But he doesn’t want this baby.” She touched her belly again.
“And you do.” Ryan’s voice was less harsh.
“Yes. I’m not happy that she’ll be handicapped. Of course I’m not. But you don’t throw a child away because they have a flaw. She’s still a baby. Of course I want her.”
“And so you came here,” John said. “I guess I’m flattered.”
“I wasn’t sure where else to go.” She clenched her fingers on the edge of the table. “You have to understand, Brandon’s a lawyer. So he’s used to getting his way. If it’s not happening on its own, he’ll make it happen.”
“You said he wanted a divorce.”
“Once he realized I wasn’t going to be bribed or threatened into the abortion. But that’s not enough. He said he doesn’t want this baby ‘hanging over his head.’”
“Meaning what?”
“He asked me not to put his name on the birth certificate.”
“He what?”
She gritted her teeth. “He offered me a million-dollar settlement, on top of the standard California fifty-fifty deal. As a trust fund for the baby. As long as I’d sign away her rights to any other child support and not give her his name or tell her about him.”
Ryan’s eyes met John’s. Ry said, “I can go kill him now, right? Or at least damage him?”
John had to smile. “Maybe later. So, Cynthia, I do get that you couldn’t live with him. But why come here?”
“Well, I got mad and said no to the settlement. I said he was her father and he'd have to step up to that.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. We fought about it. He said he knew a lot of the local lawyers and judges, and he'd see to it that I came out of the marriage penniless if I didn’t agree to his terms. I told him what he could do with his terms and his money. Then last night, he said I'd find out what it was like to live without his money. And when I went to buy groceries this morning I found out he’d canceled my credit cards.”
“Son of a bitch,” John muttered.
Cynthia’s smile was bitter. “Canceled the cards, moved all the money out of our joint accounts into his personal one. Even went through my purse and took all my cash. I had to let them put the groceries back on the shelf.”
“What did you do?”
“I called him, of course. I was so damned mad! God, I wanted to kill him! He said from now on I’d have to ask him for every penny I spent, and by the time the divorce went through, I’d be begging to accept the deal. I told him to think again.”
John rubbed his face. “He really doesn’t know you, does he?” Cynthia had never done well if you backed her into a corner.
“I guess not. You’d already bought an open ticket for Torey to come here. I booked it for this afternoon. I had some cash stowed away for mad money, and I bought a ticket for myself. Then I took everything valuable I could put my hands on and left.”
Ryan said, “Why not go to a friend closer by?”
“I thought about it. But all our friends in California were really his friends first. Other than some parents of Torey’s classmates, there wasn’t anyone I knew who didn’t know Brandon better. And I wanted to be farther away from him.”
John said quickly, “You don’t think he’d be violent, do you?”
“No. Well, I doubt it. But he might try some other dirty trick. Maybe something to get at me through Torey. And she’ll be better here with you. I haven’t been feeling well lately, and she needs more attention than I’ve been able to give her.”
John wanted to rip apart the guy who’d tried to hurt his girls. But all he could do was make them safe here. “Well, you’re welcome. You and Torey and the new baby when she’s born.”
Ryan said coolly, “Yeah. Torey can stay as long as she likes. And you too, if you don’t mind sharing house room with a couple of fags.”
John frowned at him. Now was so not the time to bring that old hurt up. But Ryan was staring at Cynthia. She shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m still not happy with that. I admit it. But Torey needs her father right now.”
“And you have no place else to go, and even this house of perversion is better than nothing?”
“Ryan!” John snapped. “Not now. We’ll worry about that tomorrow.” Cynthia was looking drawn and pale, and she kept unconsciously rubbing over the baby bulge like it hurt. He remembered the last two months of her previous pregnancies. She’d had sciatic nerve pinching and false labor cramps off and on for weeks. “Cyn, you should lie down. Unless you could eat something?”
“No, I’m kind of nauseous. Lying down would be great.”
“Couch?” Ryan asked. “Torey’s room?”
Cynthia kept her gaze on John. “I’d rather avoid the stairs for now.”
“Sure.” He reached down to help her get up.
She leaned into his hand as she got to her feet, then smiled at him and took her arm away. “Thanks, John. I’m sorry about this. I knew, out of the people I might go to, you were the one I could really count on.”
“Of course.” He picked up her bottle of water. “Come on and lie down. I’ll find a blanket and get your bags up to Torey’s room.”
“I’ll get the bags,” Ryan said.
“You should leave the black one for John,” Cynthia told him. “It’s pretty heavy.”
“I’ll manage.” Ryan limped out toward the door.
John thought about following him and taking the heavier bag, but he didn’t think Ryan would let him right then. Cynthia was pressing a hand to the small of her back as she headed for the couch. He might as well get her settled.
He was spreading a throw blanket over her legs when Ryan dumped the two suitcases inside the living room door. “Do you need both of these upstairs? That black one does weigh a ton. What’s in there? The good silverware?”
Cynthia had her eyes closed, but she cracked one open to peer up at John. “My jewelry, and every valuable piece I gave Brandon in the last two years too. Some silver out of the wedding presents, actually, yes. And Brandon’s baseball card collection.”
“His what?”
Her smile was sharp. “It was in the safe. He took all our bank accounts. I took the cards. He always claimed they were worth thousands of dollars. I guess I’ll find out.”
“Oh.”
She patted his arm. “You know what else I brought? Mark’s baseball player and Torey’s horse that you carved. I didn’t want Brandon to get those.”
John’s throat tightened. “That was nice, that you thought of it.” He always tried to let his artwork go, when he gave it away, but he couldn’t deny he’d hate knowing that Brandon was taking an axe to the things he’d made for his kids.
“He’s a bastard,” she said, her voice slurring. “He doesn’t get to keep anything important.”
“You should sleep for a bit,” he told her.
When he reached the doorway, Ryan took his arm in a firm grip. “We need to talk.”
“Huh? I was going to check on Torey.”
Ryan looked frustrated. “Oh. Yeah, sure. After that.”
They climbed the stairs. Torey’s room was dark, but they could hear voices from Mark’s. Ryan followed, as John went to Mark's open door, and knocked on the frame. Mark was sitting on the bed, his guitar in his lap. Torey perched on the desk chair, her legs drawn up to her chest. They both looked at him.
Torey sobbed and jumped up, slamming against him to bury her face in his chest.
He hugged her close. “Hey, honey. It’s okay. You’re home. It’ll be all right.”
Mark said tentatively, “She said Mom and Him are getting a divorce.”
John smiled at him over Torey’s head. “Yeah. It looks like it.”
“I still get to live with you, though, right?”
“If you want to.”
“Yeah. You and Ryan.”
“Me too,” Torey mumbled against his shirt. “And Mom.”
John hugged her. “Now, hon, I can’t promise that, all right? We’ll see.”
Ryan said, “We can help your mom find a place to live somewhere not too far away.”
Torey sobbed again, burrowing deeper against John, and he frowned at Ryan, “Not now, all right?”
Without a word, Ryan headed off down the hall toward their room. John turned back to his kids. “So guys, I don’t know how this will work out. But we’re all here now, which can only be a good thing. For tonight, maybe Mom can have your bed, Torey? You can use Ryan’s old room for a day or two.” He knew better than to suggest Cynthia have Ry’s room, even if it was mostly used as an extra closet these days. “Is that okay?”
Torey said dramatically, “I’d sleep on the hard floor forever if we can stay here.”
“I think we can manage better than that.” He’d never been more glad of having bought a big house. They had lots of options.
Mark said, “Should I go talk to Mom, you think?”
“I’m sure she’d love to see you, but she’s asleep on the couch right now. I’ll tell her to stop by your room when she wakes up.”
“Okay.” Mark picked out an intricate run of notes on his guitar, looked up again. “I’m glad she’s leaving Brandon, but I’m still mad at her.”
“That’s okay. I understand. And she will too, I’m sure.” He hoped. “We’ll take everything slow.”
“You’re not breaking up with Ryan?”
“God, no. Of course not.”
“Okay, then.” Mark went back to his playing, ignoring John and Torey. It was kind of rude, but John wasn’t up to pointing that out right now.
He drew Torey out of the room with him and eased the door most of the way shut. “C’mon, honey. Why don’t we get what you need for a day or two out of your room and into Ryan’s. Then you probably need to rest too.”
“It’s not that late, ’specially in California.” She took his hand, like a much younger child, and hefted the backpack on her shoulder. “Dad, I don’t get it. Mom was better, and then all of a sudden, she told me to pack a bag and we were leaving. She wouldn’t wait for anything. All my stuff is still at home, pretty much, other than this. What happened?”
“What did Mom tell you?” he temporized.
“She said Brandon went too far and they were getting a divorce. And that we should stay with you for a bit, because you’d help take care of me. But I’m not a baby.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t need taking care of. And I hate when she doesn’t tell me stuff.”
“Well.” He swung open her own door for her. “Has Mom said anything about Brandon and the new baby?”
“Nope.” Torey went to the dresser and opened the top drawer, digging out a few bits of clothing. Her lip twisted in a sneer. “What happened? Did they find out it was a girl?”
John managed not to react to that. “I wasn’t there, so I think it’s up to Mom to tell you about it.” He reached over and turned on the bedside light. The sheets should be fresh for Cynthia. He’d washed them after Torey’s visit. “In the morning, maybe. I think we all need a good night’s sleep.”
“Can I Skype with Char? I didn’t even get a chance to tell her we were leaving.”
John rubbed his face. Torey would miss her friends, and her school would need to be notified, and probably a hundred things he wasn’t thinking of. “I guess. You can use my laptop. It’s in the office. You remember your password?”
“It’s been, like, a week, Dad. I think I remember.”
“Okay. Have fun. But… tell her we don’t know how this will work out, okay? Until we all have a good talk.”
Torey stuck out her lip stubbornly. “Well, I’m not going back there, no matter what Mom says. But I’ll miss Char.”
He sighed and held out his hands. “Here. Give me your stuff, and I’ll put it in Ryan’s room. Go talk to her. Do you want me to bring you something to eat?”
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry. Anyway, I know where the kitchen is.”
When she’d hurried off, he wandered down to Ryan’s old room and pushed the door open. The space was tidy, the bed neatly made. He couldn’t remember the last time Ryan had slept there. Ry had offered to, the time he’d had a bad cold and a cough in March, but John had pulled him into their big bed instead.
He set Torey’s things on top of the covers. With sudden anxiety, he pulled open the bedside drawers, but there was no lurking lube, no condoms, no sexy underwear. Nothing that needed to be hidden. An assortment of Ry’s clothes, a couple of paperbacks at the bedside, both mysteries. He pushed the drawers closed.
From the light under the door at the end of the hall, he assumed Ryan was in their room. But he had the impression that somehow Ryan blamed him for Cynthia showing up out of the blue. He didn’t want to deal with that right now. He turned and went back downstairs.
Torey was in his office, her voice muffled but not sounding distressed. He glanced in, and she gave him a wave. Well, she knew the routine. He stepped back, shut the door, and went through the house to check that everything was set for the night. He turned out the porch light.
When he reached the living room, the couch was empty, the blanket thrown back. The sound of retching from the downstairs bathroom was a good clue, though. He picked up Cynthia’s water bottle from the coffee table and waited outside the door. When she came out ten minutes later, he handed it to her. “Have a sip.”
“Thanks.” She drank slowly. He saw that her hand was shaking.
