31

 

As I stood at the altar, my best friend walked up the aisle towards Julian Gold. I was ashamed to say that I was thinking about Elliot. He stood across from me by the altar, dressed in a slim-fitting expensive suit with a silver pocket square. I snapped a few pictures with a camera around my neck. Adjusted the focus, fiddled with the settings until I got the perfect effect.

Rina’s face surrounded by a halo of light as she walked towards her husband to be.

Rina had chosen the most unique bridesmaid's dresses I’d ever seen. Crop tops with a sliver of skin and flared out skirts in mint. The colour washed out my skin, but I had kept a smile on my face when she'd shown me them.

The first rule of weddings: it’s the bridesmaid’s job to wear the hideous dress and make the bride look better. Fact.

Elliot had been the one by my side when the procession had walked up the aisle. Despite the fact I was in the wedding party, I was also one of the photographers.

Father Hadley's voice droned on about the miracle of their union and the love that God brings.

Even though I knew the marriage was a sham, I had to say that Julian looked at Rina like he was plumb in love.

I didn’t think you could fake that look.

Elliot and I couldn’t keep our eyes off each other. Even when the minister called us forward and asked us to hand over the rings.

“You may now kiss the bride!” Father Hadley announced once the standard vows were repeated. I watched as Julian dipped my best friend, with all the confidence of a true showman. He then proceeded to kiss my best friend silly in front of the entire town of Goldryn Bois, right there in the church.

I put my hands over my mouth and called out a loud hoot—to which the Pink Sleeve girls in the pews mimicked as we watched our boss get married.

Elliot slipped over to my side and wrapped his arm around my waist. He pushed my hair away from my shoulder and placed a kiss behind my ear. The sensation straddled the link between arousing and ticking. “Do you think we can slip away before the reception?” He whispered.

I shook my head. “We have to stay for the photos. They've got an official wedding photographer outside to do the cheesy stuff.”

“They won’t notice.”

“Maid of honour and best man. I'm sure they would.” I laughed as we filed out of the church. Elliot kept a grip on my hand and made sure to pick up a box of dried rose petal confetti on our way out.

My wound twinged when I bent over. It had been two months since I’d been stabbed, but sometimes I would move in the wrong way and a kick of pain would remind me of what had happened. Of what we’d survived.

It was strange watching Julian and Rina together. The perfect alternative, quirky, couple. I wasn’t the only one watching them both.

My eyes caught on Scarlett's as she stood on the outside looking in. She wore a false smile, but her eyes flashed in anger. From the tight set of her jaw, I could tell that she was a few licks away from doing something foolish.

Elliot followed my line of sight when he caught me eying up the exotic dancer.

“That was Julian's mistress?” He asked.

“Was?”

“He broke up with her a while ago.” Elliot informed me. “When Jules decided to get married.”

My brow furrowed. “I don’t think so. Rina found her panties in his car before Christmas.”

Elliot shook his head and gestured to the newlywed couple with the tilt of his chin. “Julian is such an idiot when it comes to Rina.”

“I don’t know why he agreed to marry her.” I admitted.

Elliot smiled impishly and gripped me by the waist. He pulled me away from the crowd and around the side of the church.

He then proceeded to kiss me until I forgot all about it.

 

Elliot and I sat at the head table, to the right-hand side of the happy couple. His hand was on my knee, rubbing circles through the fabric.

Both sets of parents were on either end of the table and the entire population of our little town seemed to have made it out in their Sunday best.

Elliot stood, raising his champagne flute and using his dessert spoon to draw the attention of the crowd. I smiled up at him, and when Rina caught my eye and gave me a knowing look, I couldn’t help the blush that appeared on my cheeks.

“Julian Gold is my little brother.” Elliot began. “He’s the most annoying person I know.”

The crowd tittered and I covered my mouth with wide eyes. Yep. Classic Elliot. No filter.

“He’s also the least judgemental person I know. The most accepting. The funniest. And his heart is big. So big that you wouldn’t know it just looking at him.

“Julian has met someone that's his equal. Generous to a fault and kind. You couldn’t find two people who are better matched. To Julian and Rina. Be happy. Healthy. And make pretty babies.”

Elliot sat down and I couldn’t stop the tear that rolled down the side of my face. His brother clapped him on the back, but Elliot only had eyes for me.

He stood up, without another word, and gathered everyone's attention. “And that right there is Harriet Thompson. The love of my life. Just to put an end to any rumours that Y'all have been spreading!”

There was hooting and laughter.

Someone gave a whoop in response. It was Marcella Gold. Elliot's mother.

 

 

 

32

 

Despite the knowledge that Gillian Thompson wasn't Harry's biological mother, we still drove up to Baton Rouge to visit her the weekend after Rina’s wedding.

Harry didn’t like to talk about it, but she had taken the news of her parentage hard. Harry had pulled away from Gilly, but the guilt had won out. The woman she'd known as her mother had been placed in a medically induced coma. The whir of the dialysis and the sweet smell of liver failure lingered in the room. It was uncomfortable, in the way that only proximity to a dying person can be.

Gilly's skin was yellow and gaunt as she laid prone on the hospital bed. I'd only met the woman once before in passing. Her bloodshot eyes had been wild as she scrambled away from a loud and violent fight with a boyfriend outside of one of the bars in town. I didn’t know who she was then.

It was hard to imagine that the woman on the bed—lifeless and unmoving—was responsible for so much pain in Harriet's life.

The fact that she wasn’t her mother did little to comfort me. Gilly Thompson was evil. The scum that preyed on the weak.

Harry had been a child when Gilly's violence had started. When she'd been prey to those men that Gilly brought into their home.

Harry had admitted that she was scared. Not scared of Gilly dying, but of the DNA tests coming back and contradicting the liver compatibly tests had been false.

In her mind, it was a done deal. An easy way for Harry to divorce and escape the woman that had abused her.

I wasn’t blaming her for taking it.

The fact of the matter was that Gilly Thompson was dying. Her medical bills had to be mounting up. I knew that Harry had to be worried.

I had excused myself to go down to the canteen and get us both a coffee. Harry's expression was resigned but not sad. I lingered outside the door for a moment. Harry's soft voice drifted to where I stood and her words broke my heart.

“I hate you so much, Mama.” Harry choked on a sob. “We were meant to rally and you abandoned me. Actually, do you know what? You made it worse. You brought those monsters into our home. You let them d-do ... You let t-them... I can't help but feel like this is karma. Karma for lying about being my mama and for letting all of your shit poison me. I hope you've made peace with God, mama. Because he ain't gonna be happy with you when judgement comes. You're gonna burn.”

Her voice shook. I reached up and traced the glass.

“I should just ask them to turn off those damn machines.” She laughed without humour. It sounded more like a gasping sob. “But I won't let you make me evil like you. But I’ll say this, I'm not that worthless little girl anymore. You don't have the power to make me feel small no more.”

I stepped away from the door as guilt as eavesdropping overwhelmed me. My footsteps echoed down the corridor and my thoughts drew me under. Harry kept so much to herself.

I had no idea if she would request the machines to be switched off, or if she would hold out for a transplant for the woman who had been her mother in name only.

The question that went unsaid was so cloying it was almost a physical presence.

I could hear it, in Harry's mind, as clearly as if the thought came from my own brain.

Would it be evil to do nothing and let my abuser die?

I would not have been the right person to ask. It took every ounce of my strength to not put a pillow over Gilly Thompson’s face and smoother her. For what she'd done to Harry. A defenceless child.

I came back up to the room, just as visiting hours were almost up. Carrying a coffee in each hand. Harry was hardcore. She drank it black. I preferred my coffee fully of creamer and sugar.

When I rounded the corner of the ICU, there were people in suits, hovering outside of Gilly's hospital room. I saw the outline of a gun holster when the man lifted his hand out to knock on the glass door. He was accompanied by a woman, who took a badge out of her pocket.  She flipped it open and was showing it Harry as I reached her side.

I handed Harry her coffee. She thanked me with a weak smile.

I held out my hand for them both to shake and introduced myself. “Hello officers. I'm Elliot Gold. Harriet’s partner.”

Both of them look at me from head to toe and then at Harry.

“You can speak in front of him.” Harry said. I was glad she affirmed that because there was no way I was going to leave her with the suited man with a gun in his jacket.

“We're from the FBI. I'm Agent Tilton.” The woman in a pantsuit included her head and gestured to her male counterparts. “This is Agent Briggs. Is there somewhere we could go that’s more private?”

I relayed their request to a passing nurse and we were directed to an empty hospital room. The light flickered on and I gave Harriet space, whilst trying to remain close enough to show my support.

“Is this about my Mama’s car accident?” Harriet croaked. Dejected.

“No ma’am,” Officer Briggs replied. “You were recently tested for organ compatibility regarding a potential transplant for Gillian Thompson; is that correct?”

Harry nodded slowly and worried her bottom lip. She was scared and trying to hide it. It hit me like a freight train. Harry didn't have an identity. Her entire life had been cash in hand with no paper trail. Fuck. The FBI wouldn’t come down to Baton Rouge for that, would they?

“Your DNA raised a flag on the system. I take it that you're aware from the test results that Gillian Thompson isn’t your biological mother?” agent Tilton chimed in.

“What do you mean by 'raised a flag'?” I asked.

Briggs's eyes fluttered from me to Harry. “Your DNA is linked to a child abduction case from the state of New York.” Tilton said. “The person that you knew as your mother Gillian Thompson, and a man named Daniel Davis, took you from the back of a car when you were a toddler.”

“W-What?” a tear leaked from Harry's eyes and trailed down her cheek. “I don’t u-understand.”

“Your real parents are in New York, Harriet.” Tilton stepped forward and handed Harry a business card. “And they'd very much like to meet you.”