CHAPTER EIGHT

LYNNE

I set my phone down on my desk and close my eyes. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve done that over the past few days. My heart is begging to hear his voice. My mind is telling me to allow him time to absorb while it drifts off trying to figure out a way to tie the remaining loose ends of my life.

The whittling weight on my shoulders decreased in abundance after letting things go the other night with Tyson. It’s a strange emotional drain lifted, and I’m swimming in its warmth.

We shifted into a good place when I bared my soul, bled my words, and shed my skin in front of him. I felt so exposed that it hurt as much to be in his company as it did for me to speak the truth. It was all wiped out when he scooped me up and made contact with his sentimental green-filled eyes. His words were like dripping off pages of a fairytale. He caressed my skin, stole my breath, and left me emotionally paralyzed with a traffic jam out of nowhere in my head. All of it came to a complete stop in an instant.

I don’t feel guilt, shame, or blame anymore. Those coldly targeted uproars that have stirred in my body for as long as I can remember have been rubbed away by an invisible eraser. Only the faintest mark can be seen.

Will I always own up to being weak? For not demanding my rights, for not sticking up for a man who stumbled through the gates of hell to find me. Yes, yes, I will. I won’t lie. It’s beneath me to do so anymore. A part of me will always suffer for taking his love for granted. For listening to my parents and tuning the entire world out.

It’s time for me to listen. To allow the same phrase my therapist told me over and over again, and yet I never allowed it to sink in, to shine as brightly as the sweltering sun. Tyson drilled it into me with his touch, his truth to me to forgive myself for the cruel punishment I conflicted on a man who didn’t deserve it. I broke his heart, and if he’s willing to try and forgive me, then so can I.

We’ve suffered for far too long, and now it’s time to process this and move forward. To plant a new seed and watch it grow without the pesky weeds getting in the way. Together, he said.

I open my eyes, swiping a lonely tear from my cheek. My chest feels warm as it slowly liquefies to the philosophy of my life. In an instant, it stops, threatens to freeze right back up. To seize hold of my thoughts and weaken my state of mind when I think of my family. They aren’t going to walk away from this. Not a chance in hell will they allow me to live a normal, happy life. Not when they are all miserable in their own selfish ways. I’ve thought so much about my parents and sisters over these past few days that I’ve come to the conclusion that I should have cut the imaginative umbilical cord that’s been choking me since the day I was born.

For reasons I may never know, I clung to an already dead theory of hope that once I stood on my own two feet, they would change. It will never happen. My parents and my sisters’ unanswered emails, voice mails, and text messages I’ve deleted have proven it. All of them think I’m slipping back into depression. That I need help again to overcome some sick obsession I have with a man who in their words isn’t good enough for me. Even Larissa has changed her tune from the other day. I knew it was all a lie. My mother sunk her fangs into her and dripped venom into her mind. I hate them all.

“I don’t care who you are. I will not let you barge in there.” Maggie startles me with her anger-pitched voice. Clearing my head and bringing me back to what’s happening outside of my closed office door. I have rarely heard her yell, let alone raise her tone in a lethal filled. Not in the way that has me righting from my chair and bolting for my door to see what the hell is going on.

“Who do you think you are speaking to me that way? I’m her mother. I have more right to be here than you do. You’re nothing but a lowly secretary. Now, let me past. I want to see my daughter.” Oh no, she did not just turn her nose down on my friend. I should have known she would eventually show up here. I’ve been avoiding every form of communication from all of those poison-filled people.

“I’ll tell you who I am. I’m the lowly secretary who’s going to knock you flat on your ass, drag you out of here by the hair on your head, and toss you on the dirty sidewalk. Now, you will march your snobby little ass back to the waiting room as instructed and wait.” My hand flies over my mouth to stifle the laugh that rightfully wants to escape. My mother deserved that, and I’d love to see it happen. Maggie, however, does not deserve to fight my battles regardless of how much she despises my mother.

Even if it wipes me clean of the inheritance my grandparents left me, I’ll gladly give it to Maggie for defending me from the wrath of this wicked woman who is truly showing how vindictive she is.

I swing open the door. Anger erupts when I stare into a face similar to my own. “Mother, if you ever show up here and talk to my friend in that way again, I will call the cops on you. We both know that is a scandal you surely don’t want.” Shit. I need to tell Tyson about what I’ve been doing since I found something out about my father. I wonder what he’ll think. You should clue him in on all of it. I’ll go see him tonight and tell him everything.

“Well, if you had returned our calls, then I wouldn’t have had Stewart drive me here, now would I? What in the world is going on with you, Lynne? Surely, it’s hanging around with people like her.” She brushes past Maggie as if she owns this place. Marching her snobbish, stinking bullshit, her expensive suit, and the strong whiff of her Chanel perfume lingering in the air right into my office. Poor Stewart most likely had to listen to her complain all the way here.

“What a bitch. My God, if she weren’t your mother, I would fuck her up. This place is going to need an exterminator after she leaves,” Maggie expresses, her nostrils flaring.

“You can call them now if you’d like.” I wind an arm around her slender waist for a hug. “I’m sorry. I love you so much,” I say truthfully. I’ve apologized for my mother’s behavior over the years more times than I can count. From teachers to my school, to telling the nurses at the hospital to call her every day when I was sick, because the minute she and my father found out all my cancer was gone, they left. Figured they had stuck by my side long enough. They didn’t care that once my incision had healed enough, I had chemo to go through just to be sure. It was awful. I wretched my guts out. Cried for Tyson and relied on strangers to clean me up. There has never been a day in my life when I can remember my mother not being a full-fledged bitch.

“I’m not sorry. She’s a snobby old hag who can’t see what a wonderful child she has, because her head is shoved up her stinky ass. This door is staying open.” Maggie’s words bounce off the walls. If only they would smack my mother on her ass and drop her to the ground, then all would be right in my world.

I stifle back my laugh. “That she is. Give me a few minutes to see what she wants, and then we’ll be out of here,” I say, untangling my arms from around her. She’s been my comfort zone, an escape to reality for long enough. It’s time for me to put my mother in her place. To prove to myself I can do it.

“Make sure you tell her to fuck right off.”

“I’m going to tell her more than that.” I shift my gaze from her troubled eyes to the woman standing behind me. A woman I barely recognize.

“Shut the door,” my mother says in her nasty, nasally voice.

“I’m closing it not because you’re telling me to but because I do not want Maggie to hear what I have to say to you. Who in the hell do you think you are?” I wait for Maggie to go back to doing whatever she was doing before she was rudely interrupted, and slam the door, making Ellen Chapman jump.

“I’m your mother. That’s who I am. You’ve been avoiding all of our calls. This has gone on long enough. You cannot shut us out of your life. We’re your family.” I bellow out my laugh over her remark. How delusional can she be? Blinders. All of them.

“Really, mother. I haven’t been avoiding you. I don’t want to talk to you. There’s a big difference there. And you are not my family,” I jab. “I don’t think you know the meaning of the word. None of you do. You show up here on my turf, in my office, and call my friend lowly. She is far from lowly, and she has a name. It’s Maggie. That woman out there has been more of a mother to me than you have my entire life. Now, get the hell out of my office and don’t come back. I’m through with all of you.” I grin so hard in triumph it nearly cracks my face. That is until she stalks toward me with feral eyes, her palm rising up to slap my face. I catch it mid-air. A form of determination is controlling my bitterness toward this hateful woman.

“Let go of me, you ungrateful little twat.” I jerk her harder. My fingers are wrapping tightly around her wrist to the point it smarts my hand. I’m not about to let up, though. I want her to see the mark. To leave a reminder that I mean it this time.

“Come on now, mother. Surely, you can do better than twat? Nuisance. Pest. Troublesome. Those words fit your description of me better, don’t they? Now, you listen to me. What I have to say you can take right back to my arrogant father. To the farce of a marriage you have. To my sisters. Everyone in your Goddamn circle. I’m tired of all of you meddling in my life. You are a twisted, sick bitch who helped destroy a relationship with the man I loved. You should have been there for me, mother. He should have been there with me.” I’m breathing so hard I feel faint. It doesn’t stop me from tugging her to within an inch of my face. God, how I would love to spit all over her. She would really think I’ve lost my mind if I did.

“You need help,” she whispers. I honestly think she means what she’s saying.

“If I do, it won’t be coming from you. Not a damn one of you. One would guess your lives would be easier without meddling in mine. You allowed me to grieve for children I will never have. I needed you to hold me. To tell me I was going to be alright. Not a one of you stopped to think that what happened to me ripped away a part of me I will never get back. The part of me that was most loved. Him. You stole years from us. You tormented me and broke my heart. It’s taken this long for me to find the courage to say I hate you. I will never forgive any of you for hurting him and me the way you did. I’m not your daughter anymore. For the last time, get your filthy, stinky ass out of my office. And I swear on my grandmother’s grave that if you contact me or any of you come near Tyson, I will not hesitate for one minute to have a sit down with any reporter for free to tell them all about the many indiscretions both you and my father have tried to hide. Do I make myself clear?” I release my hold on her. Step back and open the door.

I’m sweating, shaking, and I want her out of here.

Except she’s not done. She fires me a disgusting glare. I should have known better than to think she would waltz out of here without digging her words into my healed flesh, slicing me with words she hopes will never repair me.

“You will do no such thing. Our personal lives will remain just that. I’m your mother; it’s not your right to know my business; it’s my right to know yours. Don’t you see he’s not right for you? How many times did we tell you this? He’s nothing but a drunk, a mishap of a man. He’s a whore, Lynne. Is that the kind of man you want?” Her eyes flare angrily at her unwanted admission. If I had it in me, I would hit her so hard she would fall on her surgically lifted ass.

“Oh, my God. Your rights? You have none when it comes to me. Zero. And I would never dream of living a life like yours, mother. What he has done while we weren’t together is none of my business. You saw to that. It’s what he’s doing now that means something to me.” She is not going to try and get me to admit I know more about their business than I’m letting on. It’s quite funny to me. She has all but admitted she knows. I knew it. She’s kept this secret, too. How could she do this? “You’ve been keeping tabs on Tyson, haven’t you? You really are a shallow woman. I’m not surprised about this at all. You can’t see past your own feet to realize I do not care what he has done in the past. It was you and your corruption to me that drove him to do those things. You took him away from me. Tainted my mind when I had no idea if I was going to live or die. How can you stand there and inject your hatred toward the things my father has done to you into me? How can you not see that all I ever wanted was Tyson? If you were any kind of a decent human, you would have left that bastard years ago. Erased his poison from your mind and raised your children in an environment full of love, not hate, cheating, and full of lies. God forbid that Ellen Chapman would want to be happy. So what does she do? She enthralls her misery on her daughter. Takes the knife and shoves it in. Never mind the fact her child was suffering from cancer. From finding out she will never be able to carry a child of her own, because everything she thought she wanted was ripped right out of her body. Tyson loved me, mother, and we are going to make this work. You make me sick. GET OUT!” I do not want to continue this conversation. I’m done transgressing back to what happened to me. I have a chance at happiness with Tyson. She is not going to touch that again.

I don’t want her touching me when she stoically stands there and hikes her purse on her shoulder. I pull the door open as far as it will go, my body trailing along with it. Glaring at her as she struts in her heels toward the door, where I’m still holding solidly to the knob, afraid to let go because I want to slap her. Knock her on her cold, hard ass and stomp on her turned-up face. Possibly beat her bloody with my fists.

“Your father won’t approve of this.” I loathe that she’s right about him. He won’t give up. He’ll damn me to hell. Dig and fester until his littered mind voices he’s won. I have no reservations about pushing him away this time if he comes charging at me like a raging bull. I’ll lasso his ass and stomp him to the ground, too. I’m not backing away from the man I love. Not this time. And I’m not going to stand here and give her the ammunition to use to try and do so. They can continue on their own. Create a global witch hunt for all I care. They won’t burn me this time. I simply won’t allow it. Tyson won’t either.

“I don’t give a fuck what he approves or disapproves of. You either. Last warning. Get out, or I’m calling the police,” I sneer. Her head jerks back as if I’ve slapped her. I hope it stings. Burns. Festers and falls off her neck. God, how I wish my palm was smarting an angry shade of red right now. She deserves it and so much more.

“What has happened to you? You were fine after your treatments. You found Robert. Surely, you can find someone else. Why him? Why?”

“No. You do not get to play the role of being my mother. Not know. Not ever.”

“I am your mother, Lynne. There isn’t a thing you can do to change that,” she whimpers.

“Wrong again.” She’s testing my patience and years of training to hold my tongue.

“You need to go,” I say calmly.

“This isn’t over. You’ll need me. I know you will.”

“I will never need you. Not ever,” I dare to say as she glides right past me in her self-righteous glory.

I take a much-needed breath while following her down the hall, my gaze dragging to Maggie the minute the door slams shut, leaving a foul smell in the air. Maybe we really should call an exterminator.

“Are you okay?” She examines my composure for internal bruising before she bursts out laughing, evoking a loud sprinkle of the same from me.

“She is heartless.” I titter, trying to gain some self-control before I collapse to the floor. On the outside, I’m showing no fear. On the inside, I’m scared to death. I’ve provoked the devil in her. She’ll run right back to my father and twist what I said. She’ll lie to get her own way and make shit up. That’s how she is. A contorted figure of pure animosity to make anyone who doesn’t agree with her miserable.

“I’m proud of you. You should be proud of yourself. For God’s sake, Lynne. How you put up with her for all these years is beyond me. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.” I used them, that’s how.

“Tyson said the same thing to me the other night. I didn’t believe it wholeheartedly until she showed up. It’s far from over, though. Trust me when I say she’s the gust of wind before the hurricane strikes.”

“Well, he can bring his best game. I’ll be damned if I’ll let either one of them try to drag you down. You’ve come too far. Do you remember when we met? How you stood close enough to hear me but far enough away that I had to keep the kids close to shore?”

I nod my head. All laughter gone as her face turns serious and her speech resembles a caring, doting mother. All I could see when she strolled onto the beach were her grandchildren. Two little boys who have a grandmother who adores them. A family. I never really knew my grandparents. They lived in London. Family vacations or visiting them weren’t important to my parents. I met them twice when I was almost too young to remember. When they both died within a year of each other, all three of us girls were shocked they had cut my mother out of their will and left millions to each of us and our uncle.

“I do too. I watched you out of the corner of my eye. You stood there answering my questions and not once did you take your concentration off of watching my grandchildren. You were mesmerized by them. I knew then you were hurting. Your eyes told me that something inside of you died. Days later, when you sat on the beach with us, you moved closer to me. Within my reach. You told me everything that day. You trusted a stranger. I heard what you said to her about me being more than just your secretary. I want you to know I feel the same way about you. I love you, Lynne. It doesn’t take a woman to give birth to a child to be their mother. It takes a woman strong enough to move heaven and earth to protect them. A woman who would give their own life to ensure they are happy. You can be that woman, sweetheart. You have to do what we talked about.”

My chest stills. Her point of view means the world to me.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Yes, you can. It’s up to you to take my advice and run with it.”

I press an open palm to my stomach. Confidence flutters its wings and rises to my throat. This is what I wanted to talk to Tyson about. I need to do it. I can do anything. All I have to do is try.