Chapter and Verse (15 page)

When I entered the kitchen it was like deja vu.  Bree had on her apron and she was kneading bread dough, Grant was washing his hands and from memory I knew that meant he was getting ready to offer her help.  It was my first chance to observe them together without an audience or interruption.

Grant Sloan was the same height as Deacon.  Six-one, maybe six-two.  I’d guess that he weighed in at close to two hundred, but he was solid muscle.  There was no paunch on the man.  He wore denim like a second skin and he must live in chambray shirts, because he had on another one today.  His hair had been black at one time like Deacon’s.  I could tell because for the most part, it still was, only it was gently peppered with gray and made him look rugged instead of old.  He had laugh lines around his blue eyes and Deacon’s dimples.  I guess he was attractive, but it was hard to think of him that way while calling him, “Dad”.  Know what I mean?

Bree should be a painting.  If not a painting, maybe an artistic study in watercolors or charcoal.  Her hair was dark auburn and her eyes were gray.  Anton’s hair and Deacon’s eyes were right in front of me.  Her hair was cut into a beautiful bob that framed her face perfectly.  She too had laugh lines and I wondered what it would be like to be married as long as they’d been and have laugh lines and adult children that made the effort to come see you regularly.

Her body was trim, much the same as my own now.  She wore pink capri pants and a sleeveless cotton blouse with a tiny flower print, her feet were bare.  Tiny pearl studs dotted each ear.  She was a couple of inches taller than me, and held herself with confidence and class.  Not the arrogant, self-assured class that my mother demonstrated that came from years as a runway model, but the kind of class that a woman earns from raising three driven sons and keeping the same man happy for thirty years.  I wanted to be Bree Sloan when I grew up.

As if they sensed my scrutiny, they both looked at me at the same time and smiled.  I was seated at the table, my head propped on my hand.  Bree motioned to the salad bowl and Grant began dragging salad greens from the fridge.

“
Did Grant tell you that we read your book?”

I cleared my throat and blushed.  I’d never gotten comfortable with discussing my work.  It wasn’t false modesty, it was genuine discomfort.  It was something I did and although I was proud of it, accepting praise for it didn’t feel right.

“
He did.  I was surprised actually.  I’ve been waiting for Deacon to let me know if it’s the final copy or not.  He hasn’t been in touch and it’s been almost a month now.”

I knew I wasn’t hiding my fishing trip from them.  It was obvious that I wanted them to tell me what he thought of it.  Whether or not they would, I wasn’t sure.

Bree glanced at her husband and looked back at her bread dough as she spoke.

“
Dorothy, have you lost weight?”

No segue, just a complete subject change.  Guess I knew where I stood.

“
I have, thanks for noticing.”

She smiled, but there was something more she wanted to say.  I played silent and waited.

“
Is it because of Deacon?”

Whoa now.  Direct hit and I think she sunk my battleship.  I had two options.  I could lie, and say that I’ve been trying to get in better shape - which was only a half lie if I thought about it, or I could tell the complete truth.  I decided to take my own father’s advice.  He always told me, “Start as you intend to finish”.  If I expected honesty this weekend, I had to offer it in return.  Besides, I’m a shit liar.  We discussed this earlier.  Remember?

“
Partly.  I’ve been spending a lot of time running and working out.  Exercise is a good distraction and it gets me out of my apartment.  I don’t eat out because I don’t want to run into him.  We used to hang out at a lot of the same places.  Since I’m cooking at home, I’m eating more salads and chicken.  Things that store and reheat well.  You know.”

They were both staring at me now.  I think I shocked them with my direct honesty.  That was okay by me.  Why would they tell Deacon?  And if they did, why would he listen?  It simply didn’t matter.

Grant demonstrated why Deacon was born with no filter between his brain and his mouth.  I’d missed that.

“
You look good.  Better than him.  He’s not holding up well at all, but he deserves it.  You don’t.”

I was puzzled and it must have shown on my face.  This whole thing felt like a conversation that I’d stumbled into while it was halfway in progress.

“
I’m not following you.  He has no reason to be upset, he ended our relationship, not me.  He knows where I live and he knows I’m always there.  He has both of my phone numbers and a valid reason to call.  I need his okay on the book.  I’m sorry he’s not holding up well, but I don’t understand why that’s the case.  Whether or not he deserves it...I won’t judge him because he has a right to his feelings.  I don’t have to agree, but I do respect his right to have them.”

Bree put a damp cloth over the bread bowl to allow the dough to rise, and set it aside.  She nailed me with her eyes and I saw Deacon staring at me.  I swallowed hard to avoid giving away the hit I took without flinching.

“
You feel that way because you respect him.  You’re staying busy because you love him...”

Grant put his hand on her arm as if to hold her back.

“
Bree...”

She shrugged him off and continued.

“
Grant, a lot of shit has been thrown at this poor girl and she doesn’t deserve it.  She deserves the truth and I’m going to see that she gets it.  She’ll have the whole weekend to digest it, but she needs to hear it from people that care about her.”

She was talking to him, but she was staring at me.  She wanted me to understand that what was said at the farm, stayed at the farm.  I understood alright and I think she saw that in my eyes before she continued.

“
My son is an imbecile.  He’s a well meaning imbecile, but he’s an imbecile just the same.  He hasn’t contacted you because he doesn’t know how to handle his feelings Dorothy.  They’re all over the place and he can’t get control of them.  He misses you something fierce and that’s something he’s never felt before.  He loved the book and he won’t admit it.  He brought it out here for us to read, hoping we’d find something objectionable in it.  As you well know, there’s nothing of the kind in that book.  I don’t know if you realize it or not, but everything you feel for Deacon is on every page of that book.  You describe his appearance through the eyes of someone that enjoys looking at him.  When you speak of his humor and his gentler side, there’s a caress there that’s unmistakable.  When I read the part about the business takeover that you witnessed, you could have made him sound ruthless and cold but you didn’t.  Every ounce of respect that you have for that man was out there for the world to see.  But the part that will stay with me, is the part where you described him as a child.  You described him in a way that made it sound like you’d love to have ten just like him.  How could anyone read that book and find a single fault in it?”

I didn’t know what to say.  That was a first, but all I could do was stare at her and blink.  Grant was gently stroking her back and I could tell he felt the same way.  All barriers were down here.  I’d gotten my answers and then some.  They deserved some answers from me.  If they got back to Deacon, then so what.  His parents had stripped him bare before me, turnabout was fair play.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly.  This trip was not going as I imagined it would go.

“
You have no idea how happy I am that you liked the book.  Everything you said is true.  I can’t and won’t deny any of it.  I do like looking at him.  I enjoy his company and I don’t care if he’s making me laugh or staring down a Board of Directors.  The hardest thing to admit is that I would have ten just like him because I know him,and I know the people they would become.  But that’s down to how you raised HIM, not how I would raise THEM.  You deserve the credit for this book just as much as I do.  You created the subject, I made him public.”

Grant looked at me and I couldn’t read him.  He wasn’t angry and he was very much involved in the conversation even though he’d said very little.  He didn’t smile and I got the feeling this was the “Serious Parent” look that he used on his sons.

“
Dorothy, do you love Deacon?”

The man didn’t dance with his subject matter, did he?

“
He was my best friend.  So I guess the answer to that would be, yes.”

“
That’s not what I’m asking you and you know it.  Let me rephrase the question.  Are you in love with my son?”

Damn it.  I can report to you that I am now fully aware of what those defendants feel like in front of Judge Judy.  I knew I’d never come up with a believable lie, but I couldn’t even grasp a vague response.

“
I’ve had a lot of time to think about that and you’re the first person to come right out and ask the question.  You don’t seem like the type of people to pry or manipulate your children, so that leads me to believe that you must truly want to know.”

A hint of a grin touched both their faces, giving me the courage to let it all hang out.

“
I don’t think I loved him at the time.  If I did, I wasn’t aware of it.  I know this, because I never acted on it and I would have.  I’m not conniving or manipulative; I’m not smart enough to be able to carry out stuff like that.  Besides, he would have seen right through it.  Deacon knows me better than anyone.  He would have seen it and run from it.  All three of us know that.  Having said that, let me answer your question.  Again.  I’ve had a lot of time on my own to think about it and I believe I do love Deacon.  More than I’ve ever loved anyone probably.  I freely admit that, because it doesn’t matter.”

Bree’s eyes grew huge and she leaned forward.

“
Doesn’t matter?  Now I’m thinking you’re the imbecile!  If you believe that, then you don’t know him half as well as you think you do.  Dorothy, he’s avoiding you because he loves you!  He’s suffering and missing work because he needs you!  You gave him laughter and something to look forward to.  You were all he talked about before your last visit and he somehow managed to bring the conversation back to you all the time last weekend!  My millionaire-dedicated and confirmed bachelor son, is driving himself crazy over a woman.  The perfect woman.”

“
Take a breather Bree.  I am far from the perfect anything.”

“
That’s not how we see it.  Sorry, but it’s the truth.  You tease him, laugh at and with him, and you respect him.  You like his brothers and they adore you.  You would not believe all the shit he’s gotten from them over you since your break-up.”

I was tracing the wood grain pattern on the kitchen table with my finger tip, my eyes concentrating on the task to avoid their penetrating gazes.  This was difficult.  Too difficult.  I could not afford to get my hopes up here.  I’d spent every second of the last few weeks trying to glue my heart back together piece-by-piece, and I’d be damned if I would put it up on a high stand with wobbly legs so that he could take another swipe at it.  I forgave him once and let him back in.  Look at where it got me?  I didn’t want to hurt his parents, but this was a “no way” thing.

I cleared my throat and put out my hand to stop all conversation before I raised my eyes to theirs once again.

“
Please stop.  I need to tell you a story that never made it into the book.  Everything else I say this weekend?  I could care less whether or not you tell him because frankly, I don’t think he’ll care one way or another.  But this thing; this one thing, has to remain between us.  Okay?”

They nodded in agreement without saying the words.

    “
When I first started shadowing him for the book, he took me to a charity fundraiser at the art museum.  Black tie affair, every pretentious sucker in town was there, and Deacon knew all of them by name.  He held my hand, put his arm around my waist, and introduced me to everyone as his ‘date’.  I never corrected him because Deacon has a reason for everything he does.  He met my parents and charmed them into submission.  I was pissed and he was tickled.  He asked me to dance and I accepted.  We were having a good time, getting to know one another, enjoying each other’s company.  A woman named Sylvia cut in and I never saw him again that night.  I was dressed to kill and I was there with the most visible man in New York City, and he’d introduced me as his date.  He left with that woman without saying goodbye, let me find you a ride, kiss my ass, or it’s been real.  I called my sister and had her come give me a ride home.  He humiliated me in front of everyone and never gave it a second thought.  Do you know what I did?  I accepted his apology and gave him a key to my apartment.  He was there so much hanging out and having dinner, I figured, why not?  He made me stupid and I trusted him.  A month later, he humiliated me again.  Only this time, there were no strangers involved.  This time, it was personal.  So do I love him?  Yes.  Will I give him a third shot?  No way.  Sorry, but I can’t feel any other way.  Your son may love me as you say, he may need me as you assert, but he’ll break my heart without giving it a second thought and I can’t live through that again.  I hope you understand.”