I’m driving on Route 1 in Bucksport, getting close to home after my Beach to Beacon 10K. I finished 298th out of about 6500 runners—hadn’t anticipated doing that well, but when you’re fueled by frustration and pent-up sexual energy, you get results. It was a beautiful, dry day and cooler than normal in the upper-70’s. The course was kickass—live bands playing, multiple ocean views and a rather dramatic finish at Fort Williams which overlooks Portland Head Light and Casco Bay.
The race was a good distraction for me, except when I took a right onto Shore Road where they had a water station. The person I took a cup from was a young blonde girl with a similar build to Sprite’s, and my throat closed up, which doesn’t make it easy to take deep breaths.
I had some orange wedges and a granola bar, felt the runner’s high for about ten more minutes, and then after my cool down it was back to thinking about my situation with Delaney on the drive home.
I don’t believe her, of course...that story she gave me about not having feelings for me anymore. Uh, no. Not buying it, sweetheart, although I’ll let you have your way for now. I’m running the company until my mother returns—then I’ll make my resignation official, pack up my office and leave. It will prove to my very unselfish girlfriend that there’s no going back for me, and that we can be together. But unfortunately, I’m still tied to Cavanaugh since Mommie Dearest has been once again out of the country.
Which begs the question: why the actual fuck is she over there?
She sent the Cavanaugh Yacht principals an email outlining our duties for the next week, stating she wasn’t sure of an exact return date but would let us know once this was set. Nothing else—no explanation, no reference to my resigning, and this is the only correspondence I’ve received from her.
So I wait, while resentment and confusion over my mother take turns with a mother of an ache, missing Delaney.
I pull in my driveway and can see T-Man in the living room window, his ears dropped like they usually are when he’s happy to see you. I had Tommy come over and let him out—couldn’t ask Delaney, which I ordinarily would have done. I’ll take him for a good walk, have a beer or four, maybe play a little piano to break up the heavy silence in this house, and then it’s decision time—do I go to Madeline and Jack’s wedding tonight?
I’ve grown really fond of the two of them and would like to be there when they tie the knot. Selfishly, I also want to see Delaney, but I want to be able to tell her I’m officially done at the company, and I can’t yet. So I’ll probably skip the wedding, make a toast to them from Singing Woods Lane and curse Gloria Cavanaugh for putting my life on hold.
I’m opening the pantry door to get Tucker a post-walk dog biscuit when the phone rings. Speak of the devil, literally—it’s my mother.
“It’s about time...what the hell is going on, Mother? I expected to at least hear an update about Portia’s father.”
“The danger appears to have passed. He had bypass surgery and will need to make some lifestyle changes, but he’s going to be all right.” There’s a distinct level of relief in her tone.
“I’m glad to hear that. Look, I wanted to make it clear to you that as soon as you return, I’m done at the company. I’ve already been looking into a few positions. When are you coming back?”
“Probably within the next couple of days. Damon, I need to explain why I’ve been over here.”
“I’m not interested in any explanation. I assumed you were there for Portia, or more likely, you wanted to make a business move if her father passed away, since you’ve had your sights set on Bellamy Marine.”
Her voice turns brittle. “That is an ugly thing to say.”
“I’m saying it based on your track record. Am I wrong?”
“You couldn’t be more wrong. I flew over with Portia and wanted to support her, yes, but it’s more than that.” A pause. “It has to do with Roger Bellamy, not Bellamy Marine.”
So now my mother has me intrigued enough to temporarily table my demand for her answer.
“What about him?”
“We have a...history. I told you we went to Yale together, but what I didn’t tell you was that we were in love.”
I don’t know if I’m more surprised to hear that she was in love with Roger Bellamy, or that she was in love at all.
“The story in a nutshell is that we fell for each other, despite being from competing businesses. The yacht market was smaller thirty years ago, and at the time, Roger’s parents lived in America. Their business was in direct competition with Cavanaugh Yacht, and our parents were rivals. Bitter rivals. None of that mattered to us, even though we knew we’d each inherit the family company someday. We were young and in love, and we’d sneak around, which made our relationship even more intense.”
What the fuck. This is so not the Gloria I know—putting a relationship above business? I’m blown away enough that I can’t even formulate a response to what I’m hearing.
She continues. “Roger’s father found out we were seeing each other, and he was furious. He was a very powerful man—very intimidating, and refused to pay any more of Roger’s tuition if he didn’t end our relationship. His father also called my parents to tell them we’d been secretly dating, and my father had a similar reaction.”
Jesus, this sounds familiar.
“As a couple, we were doomed. Roger had kept from me that his family was planning to move the business to England, and this virtually killed me, because I knew I’d never see him again. We had a huge fight before he left—more that we were angry about our situation, but we took it out on each other—and I found out he started seeing someone right after we broke up. She ended up becoming his wife and Portia’s mother. I had a rebound relationship of my own with your father, but I never loved him.” She sighs. “I never loved anyone except for Roger, but I was so angry that he’d left me—that he’d in essence chose the business over me.”
Now, I find some words. “So your plan to take over Bellamy Marine stemmed from wanting revenge because of him leaving you?”
“Yes. But all that changed when I learned he was having health issues. It terrified me, and it rekindled old feelings I’ve kept buried for years. When Portia called to tell me about his heart attack, all I could think of was going to him. I couldn’t get there fast enough. The plane ride—it was excruciating, worrying that we’d be too late.”
I hear a tremor in my mother’s voice. She’s never sounded like this before, and I am completely fucking awestruck.
“Seeing him again after all these years, being at his bedside—I realized I’d never stopped loving him. And he told me he’d never stopped loving me. It was then that I had my epiphany.”
“Which was…?”
“I realized that my trying to come between you and Delaney was replaying an ugly scene from my past. I initially saw her as an obstacle in the way of my original plan for you and Portia to get together, but it became more than that. I resented your relationship—for the two of you sticking together when Roger and I didn’t. I resented Delaney for standing up for what she believed in and for speaking up to someone who was trying to derail her relationship...for being what I should have been but couldn’t. I resented you for putting your personal life before the family business, because I did the opposite and ended up with wealth, yes, but bitterness and loneliness.”
For the first time I can ever remember, the winds of Hurricane Gloria have subsided. There is an undeniable softness to her voice. Suddenly, it’s as though all my anger at her has dissipated—replaced by feelings of shock, curiosity and wonder for this new creature I’m talking with—a creature I thought I knew, but don’t really know at all.
“Where are you with everything now, Mother?”
Her tone becomes brisk, business-like, but without the usual bitchy edge. “Roger almost dying has caused me to reevaluate everything, including my own choices. I’ve made the decision that I am not going to be hypocritical and expect my son to put business over personal when that is exactly what had caused me such pain in my life.”
A blooming feeling in my chest—big, like it’s going to need to be released or I’ll burst. I’m pretty sure I know what my mother is telling me, but I want her to spell it out. “So what you’re saying is...”
She sighs with impatience. “Oh, for God’s sake, Damon. You may be my son, but you’re being incredibly thick right now. What I’m saying is, I am not going to stand in the way of your relationship. I admire your girlfriend for her spunk and conviction. She needs some help with her fashion choices, and all that hair is too much for her petite frame, but I see potential. I think I might actually grow to not dislike her.”
Every cell of my body feels like it’s quivering with the heady anticipation of sharing this unbelievable news with Delaney. “Thank you. And Jesus Christ, Mother—you’re actually...nice.”
She replies in that business-like tone, but it’s laced with amusement. “You can thank me by never calling me that again. Now go get her.”
And for maybe the first time in our lives, I’m in total sync with Gloria Cavanaugh.