CHAPTER 24
Timing and truth are like tricky twin sisters trying to fool the world by trading places and acting on endless shenanigans. It’s called life
. Just when one accepts something for what it is, it can change on a dime, making your world spin out of control again. Bad timing? Shaky truth? No, just life
.
It was a wicked twisted bitch, sometimes, and today, life was turning a trick on Guy. Just when he had closed the door on whom he was before losing his memory and committed to becoming Guy and all that entailed. A movie worthy twist of fate, however, landed square in front of him when two black town cars rounded the driveway.
“Who the hell is this?” Jessie questioned, her nose already turned up at the pompous vibe the town cars emitted.
Meg turned to Lydia, “Mom and dad aren’t supposed to be here until next week, right?” Being from a certain lifestyle that catered to pomp and circumstance, it was assumed that this could very well be the bride’s parents and their entourage. But no, it wasn’t that simple.
Patting Guy on the back Chappy said, “Looks like it’s time, Little Mac. I’m just surprised it took this long.”
Little Mac? Chappy’s words were like a kick to the gut, relieving his lungs of all their air. Guy knew exactly who Little Mac – or Mac
– was as soon as he heard the name. He was Little Mac, or had been growing up – now he was just Mac.
Just like his dark memories that marked his beginning as Guy and flashed through his mind, so did his past. It all came flooding back, no matter how hard he tried not to remember. Seattle, penthouses, boardrooms, parties…it was all there. His life that ended three months prior had risen from the dead and it wasn’t at all welcome. It was crushing him.
If the day hadn’t already taken a painful twist, there was more. Much more when the driver of each car exited their vehicle to let their respective passengers out. From the rear vehicle, a man, early 30’s, casually dressed in designer jeans that probably cost more than anyone’s Sunday best in the group.
His haircut high and tight, perfectly groomed. He even walked with a confidence that reeked of money, but it was that glint from his perfect megawatt smile that gave it all away.
The man paused at the lead car while the driver offered a hand to the passenger. A tall, lean leggy blonde in a white silk sleeveless pant suit and jewelry that must’ve cost more than the car she rode in. Standing there, with a look of disgust weighing her expression. Her regal heir, perfectly manicured nails and sharp edgy hair cut clearly wasn’t impressed with the likes of Pinecrest Ranch. Craning her long slender neck, her expression shifted to a bright eyed twinkling smile when Guy, or Mac, came into view.
“Beck!” she shouted in a high pitched, nasally tone. Her expensive perfume made it to the crowd before she did. It was the scent of filthy fricken rich. Wrapping her arms around him, she finished with a perfect pout, “Oh, Beckman, darling, we’ve been so worried. Simply worried!”
“Sheridan. Uh, nice to…see you.” It was the only salutation he had, and it was a damn lie. He wasn’t glad to see her, not in the least.
Guy felt Morgan pull away, the expression on her face tore him in two. He felt like his world was crashing around him.
“Hey, ol’sport,” the man in the hoity toity jeans said, grabbing Guy’s hand, shaking it vigorously before slapping his shoulder. His injured shoulder. Guy let out a pained noise, grabbing his arm.
“Hey, watch it, he was just shot!” Jessie scolded, getting rich blondie’s attention.
“Shot?! What on earth happened? What kind of run down place is this? Let’s get you out of here, darling!” Grabbing Guy by the other arm, blondie was stopped short, again, by Jessie.
“Hold up your highness, who are you and where the hell do you think you’re taking Guy?”
An uppity giggle erupted from the two strangers. “Guy? Who’s Guy
?” the man asked.
“This,” she pointed to the man of the hour, “is Guy. And what kind of pompous stick do you two have up your…”
“Jessie!” Lydia interrupted, stopping Jessie from finishing her insult. “This is Sheridan Whitley, and behind her…well that would be Peter Grady.”
All eyes drifted to Lydia in surprise. If Lydia knew them, they were a special kind of rich.
“Lydia? Lydia Prescott-Mendez? What are you
doing here
?”
“It was actually Valdez, but I’m just Prescott now. And, I live here.”
“Oh, that’s right, I heard about your…troubles.
I’d hide out here too, eeek.” The blonde’s obvious repugnance sent an artificial chill through her.
“I’m not hiding, honey,
” Lydia retorted with confidence and a pretentious tone of her own that earned her a supportive snort from Jessie.
“Hmm, I see… Let’s go, Beck, darling.”
Morgan stepped forward, fed up hands in front of her, and said, “Hold on, can someone please explain what the hell’s going on here? We seem to be missing a big piece of the puzzle here. Like, I don’t know…who’s Beck, or Mac…or whatever!?”
Guy’s heart broke a little more at Morgan’s reaction. She was frustrated, and defensive, which meant she was hurting, and it was his fault.
“Well, I’m…err, I was...” Stalling, at a loss for words, still trying to wrap his own mind around what was happening, who he was, and what it all meant was hard enough for him. Putting it into words for others was something he hadn’t given any thought to, until now. Why would he when he had only known who was for a matter of minutes? He didn’t know where to begin and how to avoid hurting the people he had fallen so deeply for, Morgan specifically.
Lydia stepped forward, her hand on his shoulder, she looked at him seeking permission to speak on his behalf. Without a word spoken, understanding exchanged and he gave her a thankful nod, allowing her to say what he couldn’t.
“Beckman McCain,” she started, pausing to let the name sink in, “McCain Industries. I didn’t see it before because I’d never met or mingled with the elusive McCain, thought we mingled in shared circles. These two, Sheridan and Peter, usually float around as McCain representatives.”
“Wait, Beckman McCain. You’re some sort of rich dude – famous,” Jessie added, Morgan’s eyes dropping to the ground as reality began to sink in. “You’re like a tech guy or something.”
“No, actually finance, investing. I did develop software that enhanced the financial sector, but that was just…something I did,” he said, trying to be humble.
“Ha!” Pete laughed at the simplicity in Guy’s statement. “It only revolutionized the marketplace and made the bulk of your fortune!”
Guy stood there watching Peter and Sheridan carry on in laughter, finding humor in his modesty, and delight in his financial status, while his new friends looked on, unimpressed and uninterested in the dollar signs that followed his name.
“Let’s go, Beck, the plane’s waiting,” Pete said, then turned to the rest of the group and said, “Thank you all, for helping him these past weeks…”
“You mean months?” Blake interrupted.
Pete’s expression went dark, icy even, at Blake’s statement, “Right, big guy. Like I said…thanks
. I called the pilot the second I saw you standing out there, he’s waiting.”
“Plane?” Guy may have been used to a supercilious life style, but he wasn’t now, and frankly, he didn’t like it.
“Well, of course,” the platinum blonde gasped, grabbing her chest in shock. “You didn’t think we’d bus you to the next big airport and stick you on a commercial flight? Dear God, you have
been gone a while, dear.”
“Yes, we’re out at your private landing strip, at the ranch,” Pete said.
“The ranch?” Guy stood in a daze as more pieces to his puzzle fell in to place. He had a ranch, a few towns over.
“You finish up here. We’ll leave you a car and meet you there. Don’t worry, I brought you clothes so you can change out of those dreadful things when you get there.” With a kiss to both cheeks, Sheridan turned and slipped into the car behind Peter, and they were gone as quickly as they came.
“Wow. What the hell was that? I guess in all the excitement they forgot to ask how you were.” Jessie’s observation, as curt as it was honest, lingered over the group.
Doc Charles chimed in, “That’s a great question, how do
you feel? You okay? Are there any missing pieces still?”
It was hard to put what he was feeling into words. He didn’t even know what it was or what it meant. Empty. That was the only word he could muster up that came remotely close to what he was experiencing. He felt empty.
“I don’t know. Okay? I guess? I don’t know if there’s anything missing still, I don’t even know what came back, entirely. It’s like it’s all there and has been.” Guy looked to the sky, hands on his hips, hoping the answers were there waiting for him. “It’s weird, right? Thirty minutes ago, I was just Guy, with no idea who I was or where I came from. And now… now…” He couldn’t even finish saying it because there weren’t words for that either.
His tone took an angry disheartened shift, “I feel like I owe you an explanation, all of you. You deserve –”
A once joyous day had quickly become a somber state. Emotions were high, eyes glassy with tears, reality was setting in for each of them. Their friend was going to be leaving them, and what’s worse, the man that had everything didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to be Beckman McCain.
Granny Lou had been quiet, only observing, up until now. She approached Guy with arms wide, pulling him into a tight embrace. Exactly what he needed in that moment. “No, boy. You don’t owe us anything at all. You know we love ya, right?”
All he could do was nod his head and hold her tighter.
“Now,” she said, pulling away, “the rest of us need to head inside and let these two talk.”
Handshakes and hugs were exchanged as each went inside, with the exception of Blake. “I’m taking Dunny in. I’ll be in touch. You take care, alright?”
“I’d give you my number, but I’m not sure what that is yet – I think I had people for that?” Guy teased, trying to make light of a dark situation.
All Blake said in return, before leaving, was, “I’ll find you.”
Of course he would, he was Blake.
Guy grabbed Morgan’s hands sitting her next to him on the porch steps. “I don’t know what to do,” he said. “My life is here now, but I have so many people counting on me in Seattle…”
“Guy…err, Beck. Your life is there. My God, you’re Beckman McCain! You’re not a rancher; you’re a brilliant financial…something or other.” Her lack of proper terminology made them both laugh, and the ominous mood left ever so slightly.
“But I am, Morgan, I’m a rancher. A simple guy. Seattle is just…”
Before he convinced them both that he should stay, she cut him off, not letting him complete the thought. It was better to just rip the band aide off, so to speak, and let him go – where he belonged – which was a swanky life, with his beautiful blonde, and his people
that handled everything for him.
The next part was going to hurt, but needed to be done. “Look, we had fun, right? Where else could this have really gone, Gu…Beck?” She squeezed his knee and stood. He followed. The look on his face more than she could bare.
With a quick kiss to his cheek, she stepped down to the last step. “If you’re ever out this way, at the ranch, maybe give us a call. We’ll meet for a beer or something.”
If? Maybe? Us?
Each word was like a venomous sting that would last for an eternity. Just when he found the life he so badly desired with people that liked him, simply for him, he was being exiled for who he really was. Unwanted.
The irony was that in his real
life, the people wanted him back, but for all the wrong reasons. Go figure – the iconic metaphor of the double edged sword, or damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
“If you’re sure? I mean…”
“Beck. Go. Your people are waiting for you.” Just like that, the woman he loved had crawled back inside herself and hid behind the wall she had built so long ago.
Guy kissed her softly, “I’d grab my things but none of it’s mine.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Was her cold demeanor just a defense mechanism, or had he just read her wrong all along?
“Okay,” he said, stepping away, toward the waiting town car. “I’ll…call you.”
Her only reply was a small forced smile that didn’t even reach her now empty eyes.
Guy turned around, for one last look as the driver took them down the long drive and away from Pinecrest. His last view of Morgan was a swipe of her cheek, tears he imagined, before she walked away from the house toward their spot on the ridge, just in time to watch the sun disappear like a curtain falling on the final act. His world just shattered.