Authors: Annie Jocoby
“I’m so happy for you. So very, very happy for you.”
“Ah, life would be perfect right now. If there weren’t the little matters of Rochelle on the loose, our private lives being trashed, my job, which is about to can me, and having to make sure that you’re safe.” He smiled. “You know, little things like that.”
“Your job is about to can you?”
“Yeah. I’ve been gone for most of this year, you know. They’ve had an interim president in there, and they want me back, because I always did a good job for them. But, they’re losing patience with me. And the interim guy has been doing a stellar job, which complicates things.”
“So, we probably have to get back and face the music, huh?”
“Well, maybe. Now that I’ve broken the ice with my father, I feel like I need to spend time with him before he dies. There is so much to say, so much catching up to do. He knows a lot about my life, because it turns out that he has had people keeping tabs on me and reporting back. But I really know nothing about him, except what he told me in that letter. And this whole thing has brought me so much closer to Sarah as well.” He picked up a little daisy, and examined it thoughtfully before handing it to me, tickling my nose with it. “You don’t mind staying here for a little while, do you?”
“No, of course not. That means that I can put off the whole bodyguard situation for a little while, so that’s all good with me.” I smiled. “I’m joking, of course. In all actuality, I’m just thrilled that you’re re-establishing a relationship with your father.”
So, we ended up staying at the Newport home for an entire month. Benjamin was actually getting better, because he was doing alternative medicines that were brought to him from some of the yogis he knew at the Ashram, and he also did Reiki therapy and acupuncture. This was in addition to his chemotherapy. By the end of the first week that Sarah and Ryan were there, Benjamin was sitting up in his bed and eating solid food. He wasn’t exactly ready to play tennis again, but he was improving, and his doctor who came to visit him every day informed him that his tumors were shrinking.
By the second week, I would pass by the bedroom and hear laughter coming out of the room. Ryan and Sarah’s laughter, and also Benjamin’s. I kept my distance, knowing that I had nothing to add to their bonding experience, and would actually detract fro
m it. So, I made myself scarce - watching movies in the home theater, reading books by the indoor pool and in the Jacuzzi, wandering around the magnificent greens, working out in the gym. I worked on my tennis game with a pro that Benjamin sent over to teach me every day. My hand-eye coordination wasn’t the best in the world, but I was pretty fit these days, so that helped.
By the third week, Benjamin was dressing for meals and was able to
slowly walk around the grounds. He was also ready to get to know me a little better.
“So, you’re Peanut’s girl?” he said. He had gained several pounds since I first met him, and his color was coming back rapidly. He looked more like the handsome man he no doubt was in his youth, with his thick salt and pepper hair, twinkly blue eyes and chiseled features. H
e was dressed in a white sweater and khaki pants, and was walking slowly with me along the garden path, using a cane.
I still felt creeped out by him, though. I knew that things were better, and Ryan and Sarah were bonding with him. But I couldn’t get out of my head all that he did. I supposed that people could change, particularly if one has spent years in an Ashram and was pre
sently facing a death sentence that appeared to be commuted for now. So, I tried to shake off my bad feeling and get to know him as well.
“Yes,” I said.
“I’m sure that you know all about me.”
I nodded.
“I’m a different guy, now. The doctor actually says that I’m getting better. He thinks it’s because the chemo is working. My yogi thinks that my heartbreak is healing, because my kids love me again, so my body is getting stronger. Mind over matter and all that.”
“I believe that,” I said. “I am a firm believer in alternative medicine and the healing power of the mind. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Listen, I know about your troubles. I feel responsible for them. My abusive ways towards my son was like a tumbling rock that caused an avalanche. Everything that happened to him happened because of me. Including his sordid and cheap affair with that floozy socialite Rochelle.”
“It wasn’t a sordid and cheap affair. It was child molestation on her part,” I corrected him.
“Well, that’s what I meant. I just didn’t come out and say it that way, but you’re correct. At any rate, Ryan was mixed up with her because of me, which means that she wouldn’t have been coming after you if it were not for me. So, I owe you a debt, as well.”
“In a
weird way, though, Mr. Whitney, the mere fact that I know Ryan is probably due to you. So you have indirectly caused a good thing, too.”
“I don’t follow you.”
“It stands to reason that Ryan’s life would’ve been completely different if it weren’t for the abuse and the sex parties. It would’ve been better for him, but I doubt that he would’ve known me. He probably would’ve been married to a better woman than Alexis when he was young, and would be married to her today,” I said, plucking a lavender stalk and smelling its fragrance. “It may sound selfish on my part, but I owe you a debt in a weird way, because if it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve never known Ryan in the first place.”
He stood looking at me thoughtfully, then shook his head. “I suppose you’re correct about that, but I have to consider the bad consequences with the good. And the bad consequences for my actions, for you, are pretty bad. Now, I know people who have been trained governmental assassins, who are now working as private bodyguards. And I-“
“Ryan and I talked about that. I don’t want a bodyguard.”
“With all due respect, my dear girl, you do not know wh
o you are dealing with. That woman has been unhinged since the day I met her. They say that she murdered her first husband, and I do not doubt that for a split second. Not even for a hair of a second.”
“What happened to her first husband?” I asked, remembering her telling me in jail that her husband had left her and taken her son away from her.
“She married him when she was 19, and had the kind of rare captivating beauty that drew men in like polar magnets. He was a prominent oil and gas billionaire, inherited from his father. He was only 33-years-old. Four years after they married, he dropped dead. Of a heart attack. At the age of 37, and he was fitter than a fiddle. He ran marathons, stayed away from junk, never smoked, and had no family history of heart disease. His parents died young, but they were in a car accident.” We had arrived at a marble bench that was surrounded by flowers, and we sat down. “The rumors were fast and furious that she obtained some poison that was untraceable and put it in his food. They could never prove it, of course. Either that, or money changed hands, so that the medical examiner magically couldn’t find anything.”
“If his death was suspicious, weren’t there family members who would’ve demanded a second opinion from another medical examiner?”
“There weren’t family members who were alive at that time. Calvin was an only child, as were both his parents. I still think that’s why Rochelle picked him, because there wouldn’t be family members coming out like vultures after his death. Very clever girl, that one.”
“Wi
th all due respect, Mr. Whitney, I do know what she is capable of. I’m sure that Ryan told you that she almost killed me.”
“Of course. I feel like I am almost completely caught u
p on my son’s and daughter’s lives, and I couldn’t be more delighted. Delighted that we have bonded so much, not delighted about their trials and tribulations, mind you. But delighted all the same.”
Talking with this gentleman was awkward and surreal. It was not a month ago that Benjamin’s dark shadow lingered over Ryan’s life, and the mere thought that he would be friendly with Benjamin would be beyond unthinkable. Yet, here I wa
s, talking to Benjamin like he was my own long-lost father. But I still couldn’t forget that he was a rapist and a child molester, and I felt self-conscious being so far from the house and away from everybody else. He didn’t seem to be leering or inappropriate, and I supposed that he really had changed.
I couldn’t really trust him, though.
Benjamin was talking again. “So, my dear girl, as precious as you are to my son, you have to make sure that you are protected at all times from that psychotic woman. Never think that she isn’t capable of finishing the job that she started at her house, that ended up with you in a coma for months. And, trust me, I know the best of the best when it comes to protection.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, trying to appease him without actually committing.
“Good. I’ll be in touch with Andrew right now,” he said, whipping out his smart phone.
I stood up. “Uh, where is everybody else?”
“Sarah and Ryan are playing tennis.”
“Let me go find Ryan and talk to him before you start calling anybody. Please?”
“Ok, but hiring you one of my bodyguards was his idea, my dear.”
I nodded. “Would you excuse me? I need to find Ryan.” At that, I practically sprinted towards the tennis courts, leaving Benjamin on the bench.
I got there to watch the two go at it. They were both amazing tennis players, evenly matched, although Ryan had the advantage, because he was obviously more powerful. I watched them for awhile. Ryan’s forehand and backhand were tremendous, and he covered most of the court. Sarah, for her part, gave as good as she got, and used clever strategy to make up for her relative lack of power. Ryan was never quite sure where the ball was going to land, so she kept him on his toes in that way. At one point, Ryan stripped off his t-shirt, as he was drenched with sweat, and I admired, anew, his lean and taut frame. Wap! One powerful serve that was not returned by Sarah, and Ryan did a little victory dance – shaking his hips, and waving his racquet all around.
“I beat the Olympian. How do you like me now?” he sang. “How do you like me now?”
At that, Sarah came up to him and hit him lightly on the butt with her racquet, then pointed to me with it.
“Hey beautiful,” Ryan said, coming up to the fence to give me a kiss.
“Hey sweety,” I said. I didn’t feel like bringing up the bodyguard conversation just yet, because he was way too elated over beating his apparent tennis-pro sister. I never knew that she was in the Olympics for tennis until now.
He put on his shirt, and gave Sarah a bear hug, then came out of the tennis court and grabbed my hand. “Sorry for the sweat,” he said. “I’ve never played a game like that. None of my guy buddies can play like that.”
“Not a problem,” I said as we walked along, hand in hand, Sarah a few feet behind us. “She was in the Olympics?”
“Yeah, in the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona. She was 16. She didn’t medal, or anything, though.”
“Impressive,” I said.
Good, god, these Gallaghers are overachievers.
We walked along in silence for a little while. Ryan could tell that something was on my mind.
“What are you thinking, beautiful?”
“
Now that you mention it, uh, I hate to bring this up, but…”
“Let me guess.
My father has talked to you about Andrew.”
“Yeah. I told you I didn’t want a bodyguard, yet you talked to him behind my back.”
He dropped my hand, and crossed his arms as he walked. But said nothing. Then he halted. “And did he tell you about how she murdered her first husband. Huh? Did he? Believe me, you’re just a speck in that sociopath’s way. She would crush you with no more feelings than if she stepped on an ant. Now, you need to stop being so goddamned stubborn about this. My foot is coming down.” His jaw was clenched, his eyes steely, his arms still crossed. “And don’t give me that bullshit about how you don’t care if she kills you. Because if she kills you, she might as well kill me too. If that’s what you want, then have at it.”
I could only manage a feeble “But Benjamin said it was
only suspected that she killed her first husband. Nothing was ever proven.”
“Goddamn it. This is the woman who shot you up with so much black tar heroin it would’ve killed a 300 lb. man. You were goddamned lucky. Trust me, she wanted to kill you that first time. Don’t think that because you managed to somehow get out of it that it wasn’t her intent to murder you. She has no feelings. You were lucky to come out of that coma. I honestly thought that you wouldn’t. I honestly thought that you wouldn’t.
I honestly thought that you wouldn’t.”
Then
he was sitting down on the grass, his knees up, with his arms propped on them. Sarah had long since passed us to go into the house. He looked up at me, the sun illuminating his piercing green eyes. “When you were in that hospital, a part of me died every day that you were unconscious. Every day.” He shook his head. “All I could think of was that I didn’t think that I would survive if I lost you. Everybody kept telling me that the odds were against you, but I never stopped believing. If I gave up hope on you, then I would have given up hope on myself as well.” He looked off in the distance, then back at me. “So, you see, your fate is tied in with mine.”