Chapter 14

Terrence

Terrence sat poolside, reclined on a beach chair, watching as more than a dozen or so kids splashed and yelled as they played and tossed beach balls into the water. One did a cannonball off the springboard. Another shot a double-barreled water gun at a little girl with cornrows who screamed with delight. Two sat on the edge of the pool, sucking from helium balloons and talking to each other in cartoonish voices.

Just as many adults stood along the edge of the Olympic-sized pool, mingling and enjoying hors d’oeuvres that Terrence suspected probably weren’t usually served at eight-year-olds’ birthday parties. He thought he could safely assume that boudin balls and charbroiled oysters weren’t on the menu at Chuck E. Cheese’s.

Most of the parents tried to look blasé and casual as the children played, though a few of the adults and kids stared at the sights around them, absolutely gobsmacked.

Terrence drank from his beer bottle and chuckled as he watched them. They had a right to look stunned. Even when he stepped through the doors of Murdoch Mansion and saw all the decorations and hubbub, his mouth had fallen open.

It looked like Evan and Leila had gone above and beyond for Isabel’s party. In addition to more than a hundred or so helium balloons and streamers, there was also a hip-hop DJ blasting tunes, a three-foot-tall cupcake tower, a mini-carousel ride near the tennis courts, a clown, a juggler, and a mini petting zoo with a pony and donkey available for rides. They had also set up cabanas alongside the pool where the parents were served signature cocktails and lobster and the kids sampled corndogs and popcorn.

Terrence smiled and sucked his fingers as he finished the last of his lobster po’boy. His empty plate was promptly taken away by a waiter dressed like Jafar from the movie Aladdin. He hadn’t seen a party this big since his sister’s wedding. Terrence glanced to his side just as Evan plopped onto the beach chair next to him. His smile widened into a grin.

“You went all-out for this one, Ev,” Terrence said, nudging his brother’s shoulder. “Is a marching band going to show up next, or the Rockettes?”

“Who knows?” Evan muttered flippantly. “We’ve got everything just short of a marching band and the Rockettes, but my instructions were to give Isabel pretty much whatever she wanted for her birthday party.”

Terrence narrowed his eyes. “Lee said that? Leila Hawkins?”

Evan nodded while still gazing at the throng. He took a sip from the water bottle he was holding. Even the bottle was emblazoned with Isabel’s name and custom-made emblem.

“That doesn’t sound like Lee. I thought she didn’t believe in spoiling her kid.”

Evan loudly grumbled, “Yeah, that used to be the case . . . but Isabel seems to have mastered the art of emotional blackmail. She told Leila the other day that she wants to live with her father from now on. That made Leila so terrified that she’s on a mission to prove to Isabel that she’ll be happier here living with us. Hence”—Evan gestured to the party around them—“kiddie lollapalooza.”

“But Isabel can’t live with him anyway, though, right? I thought he was going to prison soon.”

“You know that. I know that. Hell, I think Leila even knows it on some level. But she still wants to make her daughter happy. I’ve stopped arguing or asking questions.” He slid further down in his chair so that he was almost lying on his back. “I just write the checks.”

“Well, okie dokie then,” Terrence said over the sounds of squeals and laughter echoing off the room’s vaulted ceilings. He watched as a seven-year-old back-flipped into the pool. “Speaking of writing checks . . . do you mind if I borrow your driver tomorrow night? I’ll pay you back.”

“He’s my driver, not my slave, Terry. You pay him for his services, not me.”

“But I wanted to check with you first . . . to make sure you didn’t need him tomorrow if he and I can work something out.”

“Nope, I don’t need him.” He then turned to Terrence. “Why do you need a driver tomorrow night? Where you headed?”

“I’ve got a date,” Terrence said before taking another drink of his beer.

“A date? Is this with the same woman you mentioned before? The one you ran into at the charity banquet and met up with later for coffee?”

Terrence raised his brows. “I didn’t know you were paying such close attention to my love life, Ev.”

Evan chuckled. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be a mother hen. It’s just that after the accident you pretty much stopped dating for a while. I’m glad to see you getting back out there.” Evan sat upright. “So, is it the same woman?”

Terrence nodded. “Yeah, it’s the same.”

“So you are getting back into the game!” Evan’s face brightened as he held his fist toward Terrence. Terrence reluctantly gave him a fist bump. “Good to hear you’re back on the prowl, boy.”

Terrence’s smile stayed firmly in place, though Evan’s comment made him uncomfortable. He didn’t know if he would refer to his impending date with C. J. Aston as signaling he was “back on the prowl.”

C. J. was different from the women he usually dated. She was just as sexy, if not in the typical runway beauty or video vixen sort of way. But she was also smart, funny, classy, and shy—and she seemed to be completely unaware of how all that combined to make her a real spell-caster. Terrence was finding it hard getting her out of his mind. He still remembered her laugh—like tinkling piano keys that went up and down the scale—the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, and how she would twirl a curl around her finger when she got anxious or flustered. Frankly, he couldn’t wait to see her again.

“I’ll let Bill know you want to hire him for tomorrow night,” Evan said. “I’m sure he’d be happy to do it.”

“Thanks,” Terry said. He then turned to look toward the room’s entrance, where their sister, Paulette, now stood holding a giant silver gift box with a pink bow on top. He caught her gaze and waved at her. She waved back and smiled timidly.

Paulette had never been a particularly confident woman, but in the past year or so, she seemed even less so. Her shoulders were always slumped and her head always hung a little low. She didn’t wear that much makeup or style her hair like she once did. Her clothes looked drab, little more than potato sacks made out of expensive fabric.

Terrence knew that her marriage with Antonio had gone through a rough period. Paulette had cheated on him and confessed. But they were still together. They had worked it out—or at least, that’s what the rest of the family had assumed. Terrence now wondered if what was going on between Paulette and Antonio was the reason for her unusual behavior. Was that the reason for the change in his little sister?

He watched as Leila walked toward her. Paulette’s smile faded. The two women started to talk. As they did, Paulette’s brows lowered. Her lips tightened. Leila’s back was facing him so he couldn’t see her face, but he could see the muscles in her back go rigid. Her fists were balled at her sides.

“Oh man,” Terrence muttered. “What’s going on over there?”

“Huh?” Evan turned and looked in the same direction where Terrence was looking. He frowned as he also watched Leila and Paulette’s exchange. “I don’t know. They aren’t arguing, are they?”

It certainly looked like they were arguing. Suddenly, Paulette shoved the gift at Leila, almost knocking the other woman back a step. She turned on her heel and marched right back through the pool room’s entryway into the corridor.

“What the hell . . .” Evan murmured just as Terrence grabbed his cane and hoisted himself to his feet.

Terrence rushed as fast as his bad leg would allow toward the entrance, almost getting sideswiped by three roughhousing boys along the way. Evan was right behind him. They both reached Leila, who glared down at the gift in her hands, looking like she was on the verge of tossing it into the pool.

“What happened?” Evan cried.

“Why’d Paulette leave?” Terrence asked at the same time.

Leila looked up at them both. Her eyes were pink and brimming with tears. She quickly shook her head. “Nothing. Paulette just . . . she said she couldn’t stay,” she mumbled before walking away, clutching the present in her arms.

Evan’s face crumpled in confusion. He threw up his hands. “What the hell is going on?”

“You deal with Lee. I’ll go talk to Paulette,” Terrence said to Evan before walking into the corridor. He caught a glimpse of his sister just as she strode around the corner. “Hey, Sweet Pea . . . I mean, Paulette! Paulette, wait up!”

She didn’t stop, making him roll his eyes in exasperation. “I’m handicapped, damn it,” he mumbled as he followed her. “Don’t make me chase you.”

He finally caught up with her just as she reached the front door. She waved away a complimentary gift bag that was being handed out to all the party guests. She was pulling her car keys from her purse when she noticed Terrence coming toward her.

“Paulette,” he said, almost gasping. He bore his weight on his cane and paused to catch his breath. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

She shook her head. “No, sorry, Terry. I was a little . . .” She flapped her arms helplessly. “I was a little distracted.”

He took a step toward her. “Why’d you rush out like that? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong! I just . . . I just wanted to drop off the gift for Isabel. I didn’t have time to stay for the party. That’s . . . that’s all.”

He could tell she was lying. It was written all over her face.

“Well, can you stay a bit longer to talk to your big bro? I haven’t seen you in a while.” He reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “Come back to the party and stay just for ten . . . maybe fifteen minutes. You can spare that, right?”

She pursed her lips and tugged her purse strap further up her arm. She hesitated, like she was contemplating his offer, but she shook her head again. “I really should get going. I don’t—”

“What’s going on?” he asked, deciding to stop beating around the bush. “What were you and Leila arguing about? Is that why you want to leave?”

A panicked expression flashed across her face. She blinked rapidly. “We weren’t . . . we weren’t arguing about anything! I t-t-told you, n-nothing is going on, Terry.”

“Yes, there is. Something has been going on with you for months now, and I want to know what it is.”

Paulette hesitated again. She stared at him grimly. He saw so much pain in her dark eyes, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her diminutive shoulders and couldn’t spare an ounce. He had seen the same look in his own eyes whenever he gazed into the mirror a month or so ago, before he started therapy. Some days he still saw it when he wondered if he would ever be the same man that he had once been.

Paulette opened her mouth and Terrence leaned forward to hear her, prepared for whatever she might say. But suddenly two little girls came screaming down the hall into the foyer. They rushed past Paulette and Terrence with their parents trailing behind them, holding the strings to helium balloons and reaching for one of the gift bags.

The opportunity had passed. Paulette’s mask went up again. She forced a smile.

“Really, I’m okay, Terry. I just have to run a few quick errands so I can get back home to freshen up. I’m supposed to meet Tony. We’re . . . we’re supposed to go out to dinner and a movie tonight.”

Terrence slowly nodded. “Okay. I’ll let you go, then. I won’t hold you up.”

“You’re the best, Terry.” She stood on the balls of her feet and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.” She then headed toward the front door.

“But if you need to talk, you know where to find me,” he called out to her, making her pause.

“Of course I do,” she said before stepping through the door.

 

“Penny for your thoughts,” C. J. said as she reclined back on her elbows and gazed up at him.

Terrence turned away from the giant movie screen to look at her. The shadows from the screen’s black and white film danced across her face. “Huh?” He absently waved away a gnat that had been buzzing around his ear.

“You’re way too engrossed in this movie, Terry. It’s good, but it’s not that good.” A smile spread across her full pink lips. She pushed herself up so they were sitting eye to eye. “What’s on your mind?”

They were watching a movie on one of the Jumbotrons set up in one of the fields in Macon Park in Chesterton. It was part of a movie festival featuring old Hollywood films. When Terrence discovered C. J. was a film buff, he knew this would be a perfect date for them. He planned a romantic evening watching Casablanca and From Here to Eternity while they lay on a wool blanket drinking cabernet, nibbling gourmet cheese and strawberries, and kissing beneath the twinkling stars. He had even chosen a secluded spot near an old maple tree, away from all the other couples and families, to give them a bit of privacy.

Unfortunately, Terrence seemed to be screwing up the date by allowing his mind to wander.

“I’m sorry.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I apologize for being so distracted. I’m just worried about my sister.”

She frowned. “Is everything okay with her?”

“She’s just . . . going through some stuff. Though she won’t tell anyone what that stuff is. She tends to hold a lot of things inside, which isn’t healthy. But I guess we all do it in our family. Our dad kinda taught us to.”

C. J. slowly nodded. “I know what you mean. My dad’s the same way.” She adjusted her sweater and sipped from her wineglass. “He gives new meaning to the words emotionally crippled.”

“The same for my dad . . . and for all of us, really. To make things worse, Paulette’s become pretty secretive lately. But I guess that’s just how she deals with things.”

“For some people it’s just easier to keep secrets, Terry. It’s nothing personal. It can get complicated when you put everything out in the open.”

He narrowed his eye at her and smiled. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

C. J. blinked. She loudly cleared her throat. “Uh, no! Not really. I’m just saying that I can see your sister’s side . . . a little.” She suddenly grabbed for a slice of Gouda and a cracker that sat on the plate between them and shoved both into her mouth.

“Well, therapy has taught me the opposite. In most cases, honesty is the best policy. I’ve learned to put stuff out in the open. It’s worse when you keep shit bottled up inside.”

She stopped chewing and stared at him. “You’re in therapy?”

He laughed. “Why’d you say it like that? Yes, I am in therapy. Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, but . . .” She shrugged. “You just don’t seem like that type of guy. I can’t envision you sitting on a therapist’s couch pouring your heart out. It just doesn’t seem like . . . your type of thing.”

He inclined his head and sighed before reaching for his wineglass and taking a drink. “It wasn’t my thing—less than a year ago. But after the accident, I changed. I had to.”

She slid across the blanket closer to him and he caught a whiff of her perfume. “Why did you have to change?”

“Before the accident, I wasn’t a guy who delved too deeply into things, but frankly, I didn’t have to. I thought I had everything I wanted. Hell, I got everything I wanted! Cars, clothes, women . . . I didn’t even have to try very hard. I was rich. I was easy on the eyes. Stuff just . . . came to me.” When he saw her raise her brows sardonically, he held up his hands in protest. “Hey, I’m not boasting! I’m just stating the God’s honest truth. That’s how my life was!”

“Oh, I believe you,” she mumbled flatly. “Trust me.”

“But after the accident,” he explained, “things changed. I lost my left eye. It took some painful physical therapy to be able to walk again, even with a cane, and I’ve still got this damn limp. I got sued. I couldn’t just throw money at my problems anymore and make everything better. My good looks didn’t mean shit anymore. I went from being admired to being pitied, and my pride took a beating.” He paused. “I was in a . . . a very dark place, C. J. I wouldn’t leave my condo. I stopped talking to everyone. I just sat in the dark and drank and felt sorry for myself. I guess that’s what happens to shallow people when their world falls apart. You don’t know how to cope. I didn’t put a gun to my head, but you might as well say I was just waiting around to die.”

Her breath hitched audibly in her throat. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Terry,” she whispered.

His skin tingled where she touched him. He wanted to turn and kiss her, but C. J. sometimes turned skittish whenever he tried to make a move on her. On their first date he had leaned in for a kiss and she had backed away in surprise. To cover it up, he gave her a halfhearted hug good-bye and walked away muttering to himself. He hadn’t tried to kiss her since.

He didn’t want to ruin the moment again by being too overeager.

“It’s okay,” he said, turning his gaze away from her mouth. “Ev gave me a wake-up call and I finally manned up and took responsibility for myself, for my life. I was diagnosed with depression. I started seeing a therapist. I got better . . . well, I’m getting better. I still have moments when . . .”

He couldn’t finish.

His eyes shifted away from her and he gazed at the movie screen where Humphrey Bogart was staring at Ingrid Bergman with the same longing that Terrence now felt for the woman beside him.

Pace yourself, Rick, Terrence thought, warning Bogart’s character. You don’t want to scare her off.

“You still have moments when . . . what?” C. J. asked, drawing even closer to him. He felt the warmth radiating off of her now.

Terrence took a deep breath. “When I wonder if I’ll ever feel normal or whole again.”

They both fell silent.

This time Terrence was the one who was caught by surprise when C. J. raised a hand to his cheek. He turned to face her.

“Terry,” she whispered, “I don’t know what your definition of ‘normal’ or ‘whole’ is. But the guy you are now, I think is wonderful. I wouldn’t change him. I hope you wouldn’t, either.”

She then brought her mouth to his for a soul-stirring kiss that would leave them both weak-kneed and breathless for minutes after.