As he drank from a tumbler that was filled with two cubes of ice and a lot of vodka and smoked what would be one of his final cigarettes (Lily didn’t like his smoking and he was not about to smoke in front of his seven year old daughter), he watched the sun set on London.
Lily had come back to him.
He tried to make this his only thought. Any of the others that were determined to crowd in his head were too painful to bear.
Like her pale, lifeless face, her fidgeting hands, her once-curvaceous, now nearly-too-thin body.
Like the fact that his brother and sister had connived, lied and stole away eight years of their happiness.
Like her horrible voice saying, “Let’s just get this over with.”
Like her haunted look when Nate’s attorney had suggested that the news of her parent’s death would be “entertaining”.
Like her flinching at feeling his hand on her arm.
Like her once expressive eyes now blank and looking through him like he wasn’t there.
Like the fact that he’d purposefully, with great relish, got her pregnant which nearly caused her to die.
Like her telling him, “You told me you’d always take care of me.”
Like the fact that he made promises to her, promises he didn’t keep, promises he didn’t even attempt to keep.
Like her whispering, “You told me you’d never let me go.”
On this final thought, he turned swiftly from the window and threw the tumbler of vodka across the room so savagely his arm was a blur. The tumbler exploded on the wall well across the room, dead centre of an exorbitantly expensive painting.
And then he heard a small, fearful noise and his head came around.
Laura was standing just inside the front door.
She was wearing a stylish dove grey skirt and a soft blue blouse. Both of these were crinkled and in disarray. Her face showed she’d been crying, it was mottled and red, her makeup smudged and worn.
She looked ravaged.
Nate turned fully to her. “How did you get here?”
“I have a key,” she explained unnecessarily for of course he knew she had a key.
“That’s not what I meant, tell me you didn’t drive in that state.”
She didn’t answer for a moment and they stood there, mother and son, the colossal expanse of his living room separating them physically; something else entirely separating them emotionally.
Then she smiled but it was a terrible, sad smile.
“Of course, my Nathaniel, after what happened to you today, you’d worry about me driving.” She shook her head. “I took a taxi.”
Nathaniel made no response; instead he leaned toward a table near him and put out his cigarette in a crystal ashtray.
Laura kept watching him then she said softly, “Victor called the children to the house. He’s disowned them. He sacked Jeffrey. He cut off Danielle’s allowance. They both only have their trust funds of which, Victor tells me, they’ve already used a significant portion.”
Nathaniel kept his silence. There was nothing to say except that it was all too late and everyone knew that fact quite painfully well enough already.
“He did this with my blessing,” she whispered. “I can’t say, I can’t explain how sorry…”
She didn’t finish and he watched her swallow convulsively, fighting back the tears.
“I now have only one son,” she finished, her voice aching.
The pain on her face was wretched, unlike anything Nate had ever seen before. She was watching him closely, waiting for a reaction but he didn’t move.
She seemed to come to some conclusion. She nodded slowly and then started to turn to leave.
That was when Nate spoke. “And a granddaughter.”
Her head snapped around and she stared at her son.
Nate went on. “And, if I can convince her, a daughter-in-law.”
“Oh Nate.” She used his shortened name for the first time in their acquaintance and flew across the room, throwing herself at him and bursting into tears. “I’m a terrible mother,” she wailed as his arms closed around her, “terrible.”
Nate’s held her more tightly.
“You aren’t a terrible mother,” he murmured.
“I lost the first one, my first baby boy.” She raised her tearful eyes to him. “I promised God if I had any babies, I’d do anything. I’d make them so happy. I’d give them everything they wanted. And look! Look what I created!”
She buried her face in his chest and Nate dropped his cheek to rest on the top of her head.
There was nothing to say to take away her pain, no words which would assuage her guilt. So he offered her none.
Against his chest, she muttered, “I knew it when it was too late. I knew I’d ruined them but there was nothing I could do. Then God gave me a second chance,” she lifted her head, dislodging his and he stared down at her, “you.”
“Laura…” At that, he didn’t know what to say.
“I want to come with you tomorrow.”
Nate knew exactly what he was going to say to that. “Laura, no.”
Her arms squeezed him tightly. “You can’t go there alone. I won’t let you go alone. And I have to face Lily, I have to…” she stopped then immediately started again, “I want to meet my granddaughter.”
Nate shook his head. “Lily isn’t –”
“I know,” she interrupted, her warm eyes beginning to fill with fresh tears, “Victor told me. Nathaniel, she has to know we…” Laura hesitated and then went on, “she has to know she isn’t alone anymore.”
“I don’t think –”
“Please,” she begged, “I have to do something.” She said this last with desperation.
Nate started to relent because he knew that feeling. He felt that feeling himself when he’d heard she’d died while having his child. The child he’d intentionally planted inside her and then left her to bear on her own.
Without thinking, Nate had come out of his chair and his intention had been to pick Lily up and carry her out of the room. Carry her someplace safe where he could spend every ounce of energy, every pound he’d earned, every day of the rest of his life if it was required to bring back her joy, bring back the girl who’d clapped and shouted her delight at a ride on a motorcycle, the girl who’d trusted him so easily with her body and her heart, the girl who’d looked at him with awe.
“Please,” Laura asked, taking him out of his dark thoughts.
Nate used his thumb to wipe away a tear on his mother’s cheek.
“She’s not the same,” he warned.
Her face lit, it wasn’t a glowing light but there was hope.
It was the first hopeful thing he’d seen that day. Perhaps the first hopeful thing he’d seen in eight years.
“You have to be prepared, Laura, she’s not the Lily you knew.” Nate felt it necessary to make certain she understood what she’d be facing the next day.
Laura nodded. “She will be. I know she will. You’ll make it better, Nathaniel. You can sort anything out, I know you can. You’ll sort this out too.”
At her words, he felt an odd stirring in his chest that he ignored.
And he hoped his mother was right.
Chapter Fifteen
Nate
“We’re early, we’re way too early. We’re supposed to be there at ten, it isn’t nine thirty yet.”
Laura Roberts was fretting.
They were walking up the seafront beside the Victorian pier. Nate had driven his Aston Martin, leading, with Laura and Victor in the Rolls following him.