A Beautiful Mess (22 page)

“You know what, sis?” he said, raising his voice, his face becoming flushed. “I love you. But I don’t want to sit here and listen to this anymore.” He turned to leave.

“Come on, Alex,” Tyler interrupted, causing Alexander to spin back around to face his brother. “You’ve been sitting on that letter for over five years. Now you know that Dad covered up Olivia’s death. He had her name changed. I guarantee that’s what he was doing all those years when he was gone. He was with her. Protecting her. Don’t you want to know why?”

Alexander looked at his sister, ready to kill her for telling Tyler about everything. “Of course I do!” he shouted, slamming his fist down on a nearby table. “But how the fuck do I tell her? I love her!” He couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth. “Oh my God. I love that woman, guys,” he said quietly, his lower lip trembling.

“I know you do,” Carol said, laying her hand on his shoulder. “You loved her all those years ago when you were just kids. And you never stopped looking for her.”

“It’s like my heart knew she was still out there,” he said quietly. “I just had to find her. Even though you all told me time and time again that she was dead. I have her fucking death certificate for crying out loud. How do I tell her that everything she has been told her entire life was a bunch of lies? How will she react? I just don’t know if she needs to go through any more pain.”

“I know, Alex. And when I read through the report you had Simpson prepare, I hoped that I could prove that it wasn’t her. But too many pieces fell into place. The hospital records from the accident. The birth certificate that was dated the same date of Olivia’s supposed death. School records. Signatures that were strikingly close to dad’s signature. It was all too much. And then the photo enhancement of what she would look like now. We all still have questions. Questions that could probably be answered if you open that letter.”

“I know guys. And thanks for coming to see me and all, but I need more time to think about all of this.” Alexander looked at his watch. “I have to get ready. I promised Adele I’d take her to her parents’ thing at the club.”

“Oh, you’re still talking to that bitch?” Tyler asked, surprised.

“She’s not that bad.”

Carol laughed and Tyler joined in.

“Okay, okay. Maybe she’s a little cold.”

“And calculated. She wants your money, Alex,” Carol retorted.

“She’s got money of her own. So she’s not after mine.”

“You haven’t heard?” Tyler asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Heard what?”

“Well, word is, her family took a bit of a hit a few years back with the downturn of the housing market. They’re still trying to keep up appearances that they have money as a way of attracting money to them, but, let’s just say, they’re practically broke.”

“Gold digging whore,” Carol muttered under her breath.

“Come on. I grew up with her. You guys didn’t know her that well. And she liked me when they still had money. I’m not saying I ever saw myself with her long term, but she was always good for a distraction, and maybe that’s what I need today. A distraction. So if you don’t mind, I need to get ready to pick her up.”

“Okay,” Tyler said. “But you better hope she didn’t pull some move like she did last time and call the photographers just to get her name and photo in the paper for a quick buck and a few minutes of celebrity.”

“That was New York. We’re in Mystic, for crying out loud. Not a hot bed of celebrity sightings, so I think we’ll be fine. But thanks for your concern.” Alexander turned to leave.

“Wait, I’m sorry guys,” he said, spinning around, hating to leave his siblings on a sour note. “I’m just on edge lately. Stay the weekend. We’ll go out for some drinks later. I haven’t spent time with you all in a while with work being busy and all that. It’ll be good for us.”

“Yeah okay, bro,” Tyler replied, giving Alexander a brief hug. “I know things have been rough lately.”

“I can make that work. I’m off until Monday,” Carol replied, giving Alexander a quick peck on the cheek before turning to her youngest brother. “Come on, Ty. Let’s go get some oysters. My treat.”

Alexander looked at his siblings, a hint of jealousy on his face.

“You can blow off Miss Fake Boobs and join us for oysters, too.” Carol winked.

He hesitated before answering. “I can’t. I’ll meet you all later and we’ll have some drinks. Promise.”

“Okay. But leave Adele out of it,” Carol said.

“Got it. See you both later.” Alexander walked out of the study, thankful that he hadn’t left his siblings on a bad note. He was actually looking forward to spending some time with them during the weekend. He normally didn’t get to hang out with them, although they all lived in the greater Boston area.

His younger brother went to Boston University and was in his last year there. His older sister, Carol, had joined the Boston Police Department nearly twenty years earlier. She had gone to college in Boston as well and never left the area.

Growing up, Alexander wasn’t close to either one of his siblings, there being such a big age difference between both. Carol was in high school when Alexander was born. Tyler was born the day before Alexander turned nine. And for the longest time, he blamed Tyler for Olivia’s death. If he and his dad weren’t at the hospital visiting a newborn Tyler, maybe they could have gotten to the DeLucas in time to prevent their deaths.

“M
R
. and Mrs. Peters,” Alexander said, standing from his seat at the bar. “Wonderful to see you.” He shook Mr. Peters hand and gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, Alex, darling. It is wonderful to see you again,” Mrs. Peters said with a fake smile on her face. Her bleached blonde hair was pinned back. She had the appearance of a woman who fought the aging process, with disastrous results. “We’re so happy you and Adele have gotten back together. You really do need to date someone within your social status, you know. Your mother, God rest her soul, should have taught you that at an early age, but I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead.”

Alexander turned to the woman in front of him who had clearly received far too many Botox injections and lip implants. “First off, my mother is alive and well. Second, I am not dating your daughter. She begged me to accompany her today and I am here as an old friend. Last, I don’t give a damn about dating someone in my social status, and you shouldn’t comment on that either, given your family’s precarious financial position of late.”

Alexander threw back his drink and excused himself from the bar. He remembered why he avoided functions like that. It was good to go for business reasons, but, unfortunately, there were so many trust funders who continued to jockey for position in New England Society just by associating themselves with Alexander, whose successful company had secured him a place as one of the most sought after bachelors in the country.

Alexander walked through the front entrance of the country club, hoping to get some fresh air, when a photographer snapped his photo.

“Hey. I thought I told you to leave, jackass.” He walked briskly toward the photographer. He recalled just a few hours earlier, seeing the same photographer snapping photos of him and Adele as they entered the country club. He had an inkling that she or her mother had set it up in order to plaster Adele’s photo all over the internet again, but he wanted to avoid arguing with her that day, if it all possible.

“I know you did, but I’m getting paid for the day. So make it financially beneficial for me to leave and I will. But just so you know, I’ve already sold some of the photos of you and blondie over there.”

“What!?” Alexander exclaimed.

“Yeah. You’re hot news. Who would think I’d get a good dish on you here in Connecticut?” The photographer lit a cigarette.

“You know what? I don’t care. Sit out here as long as you want.” Alexander turned to head back to the bar.
How low would Adele stoop?
he thought to himself.

Alexander re-entered the lounge area, happy to see that Adele and her parents had gone to the deck patio to have a seat. He needed a minute. Grabbing his cell phone out of his pocket, he saw one more missed text from Olivia. He thought again about responding, but with it being the supposed anniversary of her death, he simply couldn’t do it. He didn’t know why. He just needed that day.

After ordering another scotch from the bartender, he reluctantly returned to Adele and her parents. He thought her mother was a catty bitch, but actually got along quite well with her father. He was thankful to see Mr. Peterson sitting alone at the table as he made his way across the deck patio overlooking the perfectly manicured greens of the golf course.

“Alex. You’ve returned. Don’t worry. They’ve gone to find someone else to sink their claws into,” Mr. Peterson laughed, motioning toward a chair for Alexander to sit in.

“My apologies, Mr. Peterson. I had no intention of being rude,” he explained, sitting next to the gray-haired older gentleman. “But there are some things I cannot hold my tongue over. And I apologize for taking a dig at any financial difficulties you and your family may be going through.”

“Oh, Alex. Don’t you worry about that. I’m perfectly set for the remainder of my life.” He smiled and Alexander could see the kindness in his eyes. He wondered how he could stand being married to such a fake woman. “My dearest Adele, however, having only viewed college as a way to find a wealthy husband, is going to have a difficult time once I pass. And I’m sure her mother will face the same problems.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could help, but I prefer to devote my time and efforts to real charity cases…”

“Oh, my dear boy. Of course, of course,” Mr. Peterson replied, placing his hand on Alexander’s arm. “I would never ask you for anything like that. But that’s me. My wife and daughter are a totally different story, I’m afraid.” He paused briefly before continuing. “I’ve always been fond of you, Alex. I remember watching you grow up and play with that dear friend of yours, oh, what was her name?” Mr. Peters took a sip of his bourbon.

Alexander looked out over the golf course. “Olivia,” he whispered.

“Oh, yes. Olivia. And if I remember correctly, you couldn’t pronounce her name. You always called her Olibia, right?”

A lump formed in Alexander’s throat. “Yes, Mr. Peters. That’s correct. I guess it was a nickname that just kind of stuck.”

“I’ll never forget how jealous my Adele was of that girl. She wanted to be your best friend and just hated to share your affections with anyone.” He sighed. “I love my daughter dearly, but that’s not the woman for you. And I say that with all due respect to my Adele.” Mr. Peters smiled fondly.

“Now what have you two been talking about? Hopefully not talking about me, Daddy!” Adele interrupted.

“Oh, you know I have nothing but wonderful things to say about the two most important women in my life,” he said, standing up and kissing his daughter on the cheek.

“Alexander, darling. Let’s dance,” Adele said, turning to him and grabbing his hand. She dragged him inside the posh country club and toward a dance floor crowded with couples moving to a Dean Martin tune. He smiled as he weakly held her arm until they were away from her parents’ eyes.

“I’m not going to dance with you, Adele,” he growled, turning to face her. “I’m sure both you and your mother have those photographers selling their photos to the highest bidder to give you some internet juice. I won’t have anything to do with that, so you can just cut the crap right now. I didn’t want to say anything in front of your father because I genuinely like him, but I will not play your game.” His voice grew louder. “So you can act as an old friend for the rest of the afternoon and we can enjoy each others’ company, or you can continue to try to parade me around as your special friend and you will soon find yourself all alone.” He looked around at the crowd that had gathered to eavesdrop on their conversation. “I’ll be at the bar.” He left Adele, her eyes wide.

“Dude, that was epic,” Alexander heard as he took a seat at the bar. He turned to the source of the voice to see his brother sitting there, enjoying a beer.

“Hey, Ty. What are you doing here? You hate this scene.” Alexander signaled the bartender to pour him and his brother another round.

“I know. But Ma is on my ass about getting out to more charity events, so here I am. Apparently we were all on the guest list. I figured I’d save you from yourself. Or at least from Adele.” Tyler winked. “Carol had a work thing she needed to take care of. A conference call or something about a case, so I decided to drive out here and keep you company now that I can use my real ID to get a drink.”

“I’m sorry I never officially wished you a happy birthday. I don’t know where my head was before.” He raised his drink to his brother and they clinked glasses.

“It’s okay. I know how difficult this day is for you. I’m just here to try to make it enjoyable for once. And I promise not to mention the “O” word at all.”

“What ‘O’ word?” Adele interrupted, slinging her arm over Alexander’s shoulder. He rolled his eyes, his annoyance with the fake blonde apparent. When neither Tyler nor Alexander responded, she raised her voice and laughed. “Oh, you must be referring to the multiple orgasms you gave me last night.” She glanced over to a few photographers, smiling her best fake smile. “Alexander Burnham is an animal in the sack,” she shouted, as if hoping the photographers would be quoting her.

“Adele,” Alexander interrupted, pushing her arm away from him. “What did we just discuss? Do you really have no concept of class and dignity? You were a nice distraction all those years ago and it was great to blow off some steam with you when I was on leave from the Navy, but I could never date someone as superficial as you.” Alexander stood up and slammed back his drink, clearly getting ready to leave.

“You know what, Alex?” Adele yelled as he walked away from the bar. “You need to get over your little obsession with Olivia DeLuca. She’s fucking dead,” she hissed. “And you still mourn her every fucking day. It’s sad, really. You’d think that after twenty-something years you’d be over her. She’s fucking dead! Move on!”