Chapter 26

Harrison set his empty coffee cup on the table. Turning from the window, he made his way upstairs to his bedroom. He needed to get dressed so he could see Monica.

An hour later, he stood before her apartment. Since he was paying her rent, he didn’t hesitate to use his key to open the door. But it would be his last time, he told himself. Before leaving the estate, he had called, to let her know he was on his way over.

“Harrison!” Monica excitedly greeted him. She wore a transparent floor length robe; it clearly revealed the outline of her body. Putting his hand out, he blocked her from coming closer. She frowned at his snub and stepped back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked with a pout.

Harrison stared at her for a moment. He wasn’t certain when he realized the truth about his wife, perhaps when she was pregnant with Russell or before. It was easier to blame her for the socially unacceptable behavior—promiscuity a man can’t resist but is ready to scorn. While he never knew the details, he was certain the man who had given her the book had also taken her virginity—seduced her—or even raped her. He had never asked. But now, with the benefit of years and maturity, he understood her far better than he had during the first years of their marriage.

He saw Vera in Monica—and he was the man with the book. Perhaps he had not initially seduced her—he was not her first—but he was twice her age, and he told himself it had to stop.

“Monica, you’re a beautiful young woman, but I’m wrong for you. I don’t love you, and you need to be with someone who cares about you.”

“No!” Monica cried out, throwing herself at his feet. Harrison stood stoically, looking down at the sobbing young woman.

“I’ll pay your rent for the next six months; put a little something in your bank account. But it’s over.”

“No!” She clung desperately to his legs. Looking up at him, tears streamed down her face. “I promise, whatever you want I’ll do. Just tell me what I did wrong. Was it the fact I talked to your son? I won’t ever do that again!”

He leaned down and gently, yet firmly, untangled her hold and stepped back.

“Don’t leave me, Harrison. I love you!”

“You don’t love me, Monica. You don’t even know me. You don’t need to be with someone who treats you like I do. And I don’t need to be the man I am when I’m with you.”

Harrison turned and walked to the door. He paused a moment before leaving and set his key to her apartment on a table.

Monica refused to get dressed on Sunday and spent the rest of the afternoon alone in her apartment. She had no friends in Coulson, having moved to the town a month before meeting Harrison. There was no one she could call.

Watching television and eating ice cream from her bed, she cursed the day she had ever met Harrison Coulson. She loved the bastard, but he had dumped her, and she had no idea why. The tears had finally stopped but her eyes were still puffy. Eventually, she fell asleep, not waking up until Monday afternoon.

Having nowhere to go, Monica spent most of Monday in her apartment. By nightfall, her anger over the breakup renewed and she cursed herself. Pissed, she decided to go drown her sorrows. Since there was no booze in her house and she didn’t want to drink alone, she decided to go to a bar. There was no way she would go to the Roseville; Harrison liked to hang out there. With her luck, she would run into him and his wife.

She remembered seeing a new bar in town—the Tavern, located in the center of town. It was close to her apartment, which would allow her to walk home, should she have too much to drink. Determined to put the bad love affair behind her, she picked out her sexiest dress and slipped it on.

Garret downed his scotch and ordered another. He liked this new bar. One advantage, he doubted the Tavern would suit his father’s tastes. He wished he didn’t like his job at Coulson Enterprises so much; it would make it easier to tell the old man to shove it and find something else. The only problem, unlike his older brother, he really did like his hometown. Professional opportunities were scarce in Coulson. It was either work for Coulson Enterprises or move to a larger city.

He glanced up when the front door opened and someone walked in. He could tell it was a woman, but the dimly lit lighting made it difficult to see her face. Turning back to the bartender who had just brought him his second drink, he didn’t notice the woman was walking toward him. It wasn’t until she sat next to him and he turned in her direction did he see who it was. It was his father’s mistress.

She seemed oblivious as to who was sitting next to her when she ordered a martini. Smiling, she turned in his direction. The smile quickly faded.

“You!” she accused. “I can’t believe it!”

“Are you meeting my father here? Just tell me and I’ll leave.”

“No, I’m not meeting your asshole father here!” She stood up and looked at the bartender. “I’m going over to that booth, please bring my drink there.” Without saying another word to Garret, she grabbed her purse and stormed off to the dimly lit booth in the far corner of the bar. Curious, he turned in his barstool and looked over at Monica.

“What did she say?” the bartender asked, holding the martini he had just prepared.

“Here,” Garret said as he took the drink. “I’ll take it to her. Just put it on my tab.” With his other hand, he picked up his scotch and strolled across the room to the booth.

Monica glared at Garret as he set the martini on the table before her.

“Thank you,” she snapped, not sounding as if she meant it. Garret sat down at the booth with her.

“I didn’t ask you to join me.” She scooted over, away from Garret. He settled in and took a sip of his scotch.

“So what happened with you and the old man?”

“You’ll be happy to know your father dumped me yesterday.” She took a gulp of the martini.

“No kidding. How come? Did he find a replacement?”

“Oh, shut up.” She took another gulp.

“Well, you’re better off. He’s too old for you.”

“How do you know what’s good for me?” This time she sipped the martini.

Eyeing him suspiciously she said, “Hey, did you say something to him?”

“What do you mean?”

“About me. What we talked about Saturday night.”

“No. I told you I wouldn’t.”

“Well you must have said something,” she insisted.

“He saw me go with you into the hallway. Later he asked me what happened. I told him I tried hitting on you, and you turned me down. That was all. I didn’t let him know I knew about you two.”

“Strange.” Monica finished her martini. “When he came into the hall after you, he acted all jealous. Wanted to know what I’d done with you. He got all pissed. I sorta figured that meant he really cared.”

“It was probably because it was me,” Garret suggested, finishing the rest of his drink. He motioned to the bartender to bring them another round.

“He definitely did not like the idea of me and you.”

“See, you should’ve taken me up on my offer.” He chuckled.

“You mean when you asked me to come home with you?”

Garret nodded.

“Yeah, but you didn’t mean it.”

“You’d be amazed at what I do to piss off my father.”

The drinks arrived. They discussed ways to piss off Harrison. More drinks arrived. They laughed about pissing off Harrison and ways it might be accomplished. More drinks arrived.

How Garret actually managed to contact Randall’s pilot and convince the man to fly Monica and himself to Las Vegas, was unclear. He would remember there was a lot of giggling and laughter. He imagined it had to do with money, considering his wallet was empty by the time they had returned from Vegas the next morning.

Instead of going back to his or Monica’s apartment, the newlyweds made their drunken way to Coulson House. Monica could not fully appreciate her first visit to the mansion, considering all the booze she had consumed.

They found the pair in the morning, sleeping on the living room sofa, the stench of stale cigarettes, gin, and scotch fouling the air. On the coffee table next to the sofa, in plain sight, for all to see, was their wedding license.

Still a little drunk when roused from his slumber, Garret rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand; the room was spinning. Standing over him was his mother, father, and grandfather. Someone was sleeping on his legs. He looked down, trying to bring into focus the blond head sharing the couch with him.

Garret moved his legs, causing Monica to wake up. Through bleary blood shot blue eyes, she looked at the people standing over her. Clearly horrified, she latched onto Garret’s arm, desperately wanting him to shield her.

“What the fuck have you done to my son?” Harrison roared. Monica winced and Garret, now sitting up, protectively wrapped his arm around his bride’s shoulders.

“Stop yelling, Dad,” Garret told him. Squinting his eyes, his head pounded.

Ignoring Garret’s request, Harrison continued to shout—hurling obscenities at Monica—calling her a scheming bitch and whore. Vera ran upstairs in tears while Randall attempted to get everyone to calm down. Monica was now crying, and Garret shouted back at his father. Randall managed to get between his son and grandson, telling Garret he needed to go until his father calmed down.

“I’m going to kill that bitch,” Harrison fumed to his father. The pair sat in the library. Garret and Monica were no longer at Coulson House, and Vera was still in her room crying. Russell had slept through the drama, yet it didn’t take much effort to get the story from one of the kitchen staff who had overheard the ruckus.

“No, Harrison. You are going to calm down. The boy will simply get it annulled.” Randall sat stoically in his leather chair while Harrison paced the room in a fit of agitation.

“Why aren’t you upset?” Harrison asked.

“If I’m upset with anyone, it’s you, Harrison. She was your mistress. You initially brought her into this family, Garret didn’t. What were you thinking getting her a job with the caterer during the Christmas party?”

Sheepishly, Harrison looked at his father. “You’re right. I was foolish. That’s why I broke it off the next day. I realized it was out of control.”

“Would have been nice had you broken it off before the Christmas party.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m going to go upstairs and speak to Vera.”

Harrison found his wife upstairs in her bedroom, sitting on the side of her bed. She had stopped crying but was drying the corner of her eyes with a tissue. She looked up when he walked into her room.

“Are you okay?” Harrison asked.

“She was your mistress, wasn’t she?” Vera asked.

“Yes.”

“Younger than the others, Harrison.” Vera took a deep breath then exhaled.

“I broke it off with her.”

“Well, I would assume so.” She glared up at her husband. “Since she’s now our daughter-in-law!”