Read The Things I Do For You Online
Authors: Mary Carter
The Things I Do For You (35 page)
“Holy mama,” Brad said.
Bailey laughed. “Holy concrete-sponge-pad-lightbulb,” she said.
“Hey,” Angel said. “That’s my line.”
“Finders, keepers,” Bailey said. She moved out of the way to let Brad have a closer look at the glowing prisms of green light, the piece of history that was sure to draw visitors from all over the world. As she stepped out of the way, she came in contact with Angel’s foot. She couldn’t be sure that Angel tripped her on purpose, but the next thing Bailey knew, she was flying forward. She fell right in front of the gate to the deck. Her chin bumped Brad’s little desk as she went down.
What happened next was nothing anyone could have predicted. Jake stepped forward, and Bailey would always presume it was to help her up. But Thomas didn’t see it that way. Afraid that his aunt was in trouble, he grabbed the nearest object he could get his hands on, which just so happened to be Aunt Olivia’s urn. Bailey looked up, saw Jake bending over her, saw Thomas behind him, urn coiled back, ready to strike.
“No!” Bailey shouted. She lunged up, and Thomas, unsure and off balance, froze with the urn held just below his chin. The top of Bailey’s head smacked the bottom of the urn. She immediately felt dizzy, and everything around her blurred into little dots. She cried out and fell back to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Brad shouted. “You could have killed her.”
Bailey wanted to admonish Brad, tell him not to be so hard on Thomas, but she couldn’t talk quite yet. She could hear Thomas put down the urn and begin to speak rapidly, apologizing, explaining, and Bailey wanted to tell him it would be all right. She tried to put her thumb up for “thumbs up!” but wasn’t sure she pulled it off.
“What have I done?” she heard Thomas yell. He was in a panic, and the next thing she knew, he ran past the little group huddled around Bailey and climbed out to the deck. Bailey’s vision returned in time for her to see Thomas climb onto the railing, below which was a sixty-foot drop.
“Thomas,” Bailey said. She tried to move but it hurt. “Help,” she said to Brad. Brad ran out to the deck, and Bailey could only watch and listen.
“I’m sorry,” Thomas shouted.
“It’s okay,” Brad said. “Really. Buddy. She’s okay.” Bailey could hear the fear in Brad’s voice.
“I’m not your buddy,” Thomas said. “You hate me.”
Bailey felt sick. She lifted her head. “Thomas,” she called out. “Come down. I love you.”
“I don’t hate you, Thomas. Far from it,” Brad said.
“I heard what you said. You told Aunt Bailey you didn’t want me here.”
“Oh God,” Bailey said. She grabbed onto the desk and hauled herself up. Jake and Angel were gone.
“Thomas,” Bailey said, managing to stand at the entrance to the deck. “He said that because . . .” She looked at Brad for help.
“Because you remind me of my son,” Brad said.
Chapter 36
“W
hat?” Bailey thought she said. But no words came out. Besides, Brad wasn’t even looking at her, he was still trying to talk to Thomas. “I had him when I was seventeen,” Brad said. “Close to the age you are now.” Bailey slid back down the wall. She wanted to continue helping Thomas, but her legs would no longer support her. “Having you around—it’s been hard,” Brad said. “Because I’ve been carrying this secret so long. And you make me wonder what my son is like.”
hat?” Bailey thought she said. But no words came out. Besides, Brad wasn’t even looking at her, he was still trying to talk to Thomas. “I had him when I was seventeen,” Brad said. “Close to the age you are now.” Bailey slid back down the wall. She wanted to continue helping Thomas, but her legs would no longer support her. “Having you around—it’s been hard,” Brad said. “Because I’ve been carrying this secret so long. And you make me wonder what my son is like.”
“You hope he’s nothing like me, right?” Thomas said.
“The opposite,” Brad said. “I’d be proud if he was like you.”
“So would I,” Bailey said. “Please, Thomas. You’re scaring me. Come down.” She found her legs again. She would be fine as long as she didn’t look at Brad. Not for a single second. Brad held out his hand to help Thomas down. Finally, with a brief nod, he took it. Only when they were safely inside the Crow’s Nest did Bailey let out her breath. She wrapped her arms around Thomas. “I love you,” she said. “Please. Don’t ever do anything like that again.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t.” Bailey was going to have to call Meg, and they were going to have to get Thomas help. But for now, he was safe. Bailey took a step toward the stairs and another wave of dizziness came over her. Brad’s arms were around her in an instant, and she needed him too much to protest.
“Let’s get you to the bed,” Brad said. “Then I’m calling for an ambulance.” Funny, Bailey always got a kick out of seeing the ambulance boat race by.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I don’t need it.” As they came down one set of spiral stairs, Elizabeth came barreling up the other.
“What is going on?” she said. “Jake, Angel, and Captain Jack took off like there was a fire! They left without me!”
“Want me to go after them?” Thomas said.
“No!”
Bailey and Brad yelled together.
Bailey and Brad yelled together.
“They’re running from justice,” Bailey said.
“What?” Brad said. As he laid her down on the bed, Bailey filled him in as best she could. She wondered if he was relieved his mother hadn’t really been drunk, but she couldn’t focus on his face. She got so wrapped up in the story, for a few seconds she forgot all about his devastating declaration just moments earlier. But she wasn’t going to say anything in front of Elizabeth and Thomas. Nor was it wise to get into it with what was turning out to be a splitting headache.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t call the doctor?” Brad said.
“Just give me aspirin and let me sleep,” Bailey said.
“That’s not a good idea,” Thomas said. “She could have a concussion.”
“You’re right,” Brad said. “See? I’m glad you’re here. Stay with her and keep her awake while I call the Coast Guard,” Brad said. Brad patted Thomas on the back, and taking his mother with him, he ran out of the room. Thomas sat on the edge of the bed and took Bailey’s hand. Bailey let him do all the talking, which wasn’t easy, for what she suddenly wanted more than anything was just a little bit of sleep.
They didn’t talk about it for three days. First, even though she didn’t have a concussion, Bailey was on pretty strong painkillers and she needed her rest. Second, they had to wait for the report to be filed against Edgar, Jake, and Angel, who seemed to be long gone. The ferry was abandoned on the other side of the river, and Island Supplies was closed and locked. Then they had to wait for Meg to arrive to pick up Thomas and for Elizabeth to say her good-byes. Bailey wished she and Brad were on better terms because it tugged at her heart strings to see him hug his mother good-bye. Elizabeth had really come through for them, and it did seem as if she had changed. Life really did seem to offer second chances. Bailey listened as Brad and Elizabeth bantered back and forth about future visits. Is that the way life would unfold? Brad would finally have his mother back in his life but would lose his wife? Soon, the house had emptied out, and although it was a relief not to have to take care of anyone else, Bailey didn’t look forward to being alone with Brad now that this thing hung between them.
Bailey finally opened the letter that she’d stolen from Brad’s desk, praying it would be a heartfelt apology, something she could hold on to, something that would help her forgive him. She opened it, and prayed.
Dear Bailey,
I’m a coward.
I love you,
Brad
I’m a coward.
I love you,
Brad
That was it? That was his big apology? She felt guilty for stealing that? It was a good thing he never gave it to her. Instead of helping her process her anger, it just made her more depressed. She tore the letter into tiny pieces and threw them away. She never wanted to get out of bed.
On the third day of Brad bringing her ice packs, and meals in bed, and cups of coffee or tea, and flowers, and paperback books, Bailey finally let it out in the open. Brad had just come to take away her breakfast tray. She stopped him. He sat on the bed and just looked at her.
“You have a son,” she said. It was difficult to say the words; they felt thick in her mouth.
“Yes,” Brad said. She winced. She couldn’t believe how much it hurt, how terribly shocking it all was. She had been holding out hope that somehow it wasn’t true, just a fabrication designed to talk Thomas down from the ledge.
“Do you remember the summer you graduated from high school?” Brad said.
“Cynthia Hargrave,” Bailey said. Brad wasn’t expecting the name to come out of her mouth. It took him several seconds to recover.
“You knew?”
Bailey laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. How could he not remember the yard sale? Bailey was the one who’d pushed them to go, mainly because she was dying to see Cynthia’s house. Her father was a surgeon. They had a mansion, and horses, and an in-ground pool. Bailey didn’t know people like that had yard sales. Bailey was busy checking out the clothes Cynthia had for sale, which were way nicer than anything Bailey owned new. Brad was looking through a stack of college textbooks that belonged to Cynthia’s older brother. Brad bought one of the books—
Sexual Deviancy
. Cynthia followed Brad around the yard that day in her little white shorts and sparkling gold bikini top. She laughed loudly at everything he said and flipped her hair so many times it was a wonder she wasn’t bald by the time they left. She wouldn’t even take money from Brad for the book. And just as they were leaving, she grabbed it away from him, took a red marker out of her white shorts, stuck it in her mouth, pulled it out (still chewing seductively on the cap), and wrote something in the book.
Sexual Deviancy
. Cynthia followed Brad around the yard that day in her little white shorts and sparkling gold bikini top. She laughed loudly at everything he said and flipped her hair so many times it was a wonder she wasn’t bald by the time they left. She wouldn’t even take money from Brad for the book. And just as they were leaving, she grabbed it away from him, took a red marker out of her white shorts, stuck it in her mouth, pulled it out (still chewing seductively on the cap), and wrote something in the book.
Bailey had kept her jealousy in check because Cynthia Hargrave, who had been the most popular girl in school, liked her boyfriend. Bailey reached for the book, but Cynthia snatched it away and made Brad take it.
“For your eyes only,” she said with a wink. Bailey silently wished she would choke on the cap to the marker. But she held it together. She simply linked arms with Brad and pretended it didn’t bother her. That is, until they were safely down the enormous driveway and way out of earshot. Then Bailey let Brad have it. At first, Brad seemed amused and doubly flattered. First by the attention from Cynthia, then by Bailey’s jealousy. But when she wouldn’t give up her sour mood, and he wouldn’t admit to flirting back, it disintegrated into a fight that led to their first breakup. Later, when they were at Brad’s house and he was in the shower, Bailey snuck a peek at the book.
Brad,
Come to my bed and be a sexual deviant with me.
Love,
Cindy
Come to my bed and be a sexual deviant with me.
Love,
Cindy
Bailey wanted to rip it out. She wondered now if events would have changed if she had. Instead, she confronted Brad with it, as if he were responsible for writing it himself, as if he had already slipped into the sheets with Cynthia. She even blamed him for buying the book in the first place, although it was exactly the type of book Brad would have picked up and read. The second half of the fight was a doozy. They broke up for the rest of the summer.
“But how did you know I slept with her?” Brad said after Bailey recounted the story.
“I didn’t for sure,” Bailey said. “But come on. Do you really think I expected you to never sleep with anybody but me?”
“We were so young,” Brad said. “Not that that’s an excuse.”
“It’s no excuse for doing it with her,” Bailey said. “But I never wanted the burden of being the only one for your entire adult male life. Believe me.”
“Thus your first year of college,” Brad said.
“Thus my first year of college,” Bailey agreed. That was their second breakup. When Bailey was seized with panic that she would never sleep with another man besides Brad. She told him they both needed their freedom. It lasted six months. Long enough for Bailey to experience that she wasn’t really missing anything.
“So tell me everything,” Bailey said. It wasn’t a new story, or even a particularly surprising one. A pregnant teenage daughter didn’t sit well with the Hargraves. Her father was so enraged he threatened to press statutory rape charges against Brad. Cynthia had been a month from turning eighteen. Later, Brad would realize Dr. Hargrave’s threats wouldn’t have landed him in jail at all. The age of consent in Massachusetts is sixteen. At the time, however, Brad had no clue what they could or couldn’t do to him, but he believed Dr. Hargrave was capable of getting his way. He believed he’d do serious jail time. So Dr. Hargrave offered Brad an alternative. He could avoid jail if he gave up all parental rights. Soon after, the Hargraves moved out of the state. Bailey couldn’t believe she hadn’t put it together sooner, but she spent the rest of that summer in New York City with Aunt Faye. When she did come back, all she knew was that Cynthia and her family had moved.
“When did you find out she had a boy?” Bailey asked.
“Remember the older brother?” Brad asked.
“Of course,” Bailey said. She held him responsible too. He was the one selling the textbook.
“I contacted him,” Brad said.
“When?”
“When we got back from Europe,” Brad said. Bailey cringed. While his son was being born, Brad was traveling through Europe with her.
“He told me it was a boy. Warned me to stay away. Said everyone was fine.”
“So that was it?” Bailey said.
“No,” Brad said. “Five years later I contacted him again.” This time, Cynthia was married to a doctor. The man had legally adopted Brad’s son. “That was the last time I ever made contact,” Brad said. “My son was healthy. He had a father. What was I supposed to do?”
“Tell me,” Bailey said. “That’s what you were supposed to do.”
Bailey spent several days just trying to breathe. She felt an enormous sadness. A son had missed out on his father. A father had missed out on his son. She had been living with a man she thought she knew inside and out, and yet he had this larger-than-life secret. She wanted all those years back so they could do it right. She was furious with the Hargraves for threatening a seventeen-year-old kid with jail. Especially one without a family support system. Even if she could go back, there was probably little that could have been done to change that aspect of it. She wondered what Cynthia was like now, wondered if Cynthia ever felt bad that her son had missed out on his real father.
Did the boy look like Brad? Have his dimples? Was he impulsive and energetic? Handsome? Every new round of thoughts brought fresh tears. In the days following the revelation, Bailey’s tears could have filled the Hudson. Because even if she could see the impossible situation Brad had been in at the time, what about now? Bailey had stuck by his side through thick and thin for the past twenty-six years. All that time and she had no idea that his unpredictable moods, inability to stay in one place, and fear of having children had a source. And even if Bailey couldn’t blame everything on this secret, it had undoubtedly played a huge role in every aspect of their lives. And maybe Brad got some kind of relief out of punishing himself by not having any more children, but what about Bailey? What had she done to deserve it? After several days of barely speaking to Brad, she confronted him. He was working on the pier, trying to patch up a few broken boards before winter hit. Bailey stood over him, watching until he looked up. He saw her red eyes, evidence of more tears, and even though she hated to see how pained he was to see her cry, she remained steely.
“Are you going to try and find him?” Bailey said.
“No,” Brad said.
“Why not?” Brad turned away, began to hammer. “Why not?”
“It’s too late,” he said without looking at her.
“He’s twenty-one,” Bailey said. “Why don’t you let him decide for himself?” Brad didn’t answer. Bailey watched him take his anger out on the boardwalk for a few minutes longer, then she turned to go on one of many solitary walks along the river.
PLEASE SIGN OUR GUEST BOOK!
What a glorious fall day. We so enjoyed the rowboat, the walks along the river, and the roaring fires in the evening. We never expected asparagus in our omelets and cranberries in our pancakes, and now we don’t know how we shall live without it. And the quiet! It’s nice to see a couple enjoy each other without having to talk. We have four children, and in our house this kind of silence would mean that something had gone horribly wrong. It was nice to be reminded how precious silence can be. It was the best gift you could have ever given us. We hear there is a ferryboat and grocery store for sale. If we didn’t have those darn kids, we might buy them ourselves! We will definitely be back!
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