Made to Love (30 page)

Reagan

I stepped out of the shower and quickly
dressed in dark jeans, a navy t-shirt and wedge sandals.  I was exhausted, and
my eyes were burning from lack of sleep.  I’d gone to bed shortly after Jacob
had left for the airport, but hadn’t been able to sleep.  I’d been worried
about Nathan, my mind mulling over what had happened between us, and how
insignificant it all seemed now in comparison to his quitting Elite, and
Katherine’s accident.  I’d constantly checked my phone for news from Jacob. 
He’d promised to update me after he’d arrived at the hospital.    

It was shortly after eleven when the text had
come through.   My breath had caught when I saw who it was from, and I’d stared
at his name for several moments before finally opening it and reading his
simply worded text:

Nathan:  I wish you were here.

I’d cried.  He couldn’t have known that I was
aware of the accident, and without giving reasons why, he’d simply wanted me
there.  In yet another scary, and uncertain time in his life, he wanted me
there with him. 

And I wanted to be there.

I’d resisted the urge to respond.  He needed
to be completely focused on his mother, and I didn’t want any of his focus
shifted to me, and when I would arrive.  Okay, so maybe I was just nervous
about talking to him, seeing him, after the last few weeks of radio silence,
and how things had been left between us.   I figured I could use the element of
surprise.

I headed downstairs, dragging my carry on
behind me.  “Helen, we need to go!”

She appeared from the kitchen, keys in hand. 
We loaded up and began the trek to the airport.  “Your things just got here,”
she murmured as she pulled out into traffic.

I raised an eyebrow and looked over at her as
I adjusted my seatbelt.  “Yeah . . .?”

“Well, I suppose it will all need to be moved
back now, right?” 

To be honest, I hadn’t really thought that
far ahead.  Was I moving back to New York?  I mean, yes, I loved Nathan, and I
was on my way to his side, but was I going back to stay?  I didn’t reply as
Helen reached over and took my hand.

“You’ve seen his pictures, and know who he
is, but I’ve said very little about Jerry Andrews.  I think I need to tell you
our story.”  

I turned slightly toward her in my seat as
she continued.  “Jerry moved to my neighborhood when I was a junior in high
school.  He was seventeen, and defined the term ‘tall, dark and handsome’.  He
was somebody new, had a reckless charm about him, and all the girls wanted to
be his.   Except me.”

“It wasn’t that I was immune to his good
looks.  I wasn’t.  But Jerry was the life of the party.  He was easily the most
popular boy in school, was a smooth talker, and had all the girls—both students
and staff alike—eating from his hand.  I had no interest in falling at his feet
just because everyone else did.  And he knew it, too.

“He found me one day walking home from
school, and asked me for ice cream.  I flat out refused, being as stern as I
could.  He just laughed and said he’d try again the next day.”  Helen shook her
head as memories overtook her.  “And he did.  And the day after that, and the
day after that.  It became a thing for us, ya know?  And I finally asked him
why he bothered to keep asking me, when he knew my answer would always be no. 
And he just smiled that charming smile of his and said one day I was going to
grant a boy the honor of my presence at the ice cream shop.  And he wanted to
be that boy so he couldn’t afford
not
to ask.”

My eyes widened as I tried to imagine the man
I’d only seen in pictures as a young, confident teenager, trying to wear Helen
down.  It sounded like he was a little bit of a romantic, and I waved for her
to continue, completely fascinated by the story unfolding about her and the man
she would ultimately marry.

“I’ll be honest.  That right there almost did
me in.  I was coming to enjoy our little verbal sparring on my way home after
school every day.  And I liked the thrill of seeing him extract himself from
the crowd when I passed by to hurry over and walk with me.  For some reason I
had his attention, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.  But I
remained skeptical.  Jerry could have dated anyone. 
Anyone. 
What did
he want with me?”  She peered at me over the rims of her sunglasses pointedly. 
I rolled my eyes.  Yes, I was aware of the resemblance to my own early
misgivings about Nathan.   Let’s move on.

“Anyway, the prom was approaching and of
course Jerry asked me to go with him.  And I declined.  Word was getting out by
then, and girls were being catty. . .you know how they do.  Who is this Helen Wright,
thinking she’s too good for Jerry Andrews?  What is he even asking her for
anyway?  It was jealousy, plain and simple, but it just fed my own insecurity. 
Because again, what did he want with me?”

“My neighbor, Rich Brown—bless his heart, he
awkwardly asked me to go to prom with him.  We’d been neighbors forever, and he
didn’t have many friends.  He was a nice enough fellow, easy on the eyes, but just
more of a studious type and kept to himself.  I immediately accepted, grateful
that I could finally tell Jerry I already had a date.   He took the news well,
which should have been my first clue, but I was all about putting him in his
place, making sure he knew that not all of us sat around waiting for Jerry
Andrews to come knocking on our door.  I was so sure that would be the end of
it,” Helen laughed.

“The night of the prom, I got all dolled up,
and was actually excited when I heard the doorbell ring.  Imagine my complete
shock when my father showed in not Rich Brown—safe, not interested in at all
boy from next door, but instead Jerry Andrews—the boy I was becoming intrigued
with in an all too dangerous way.  Turns out he’d planned it all along, and
paid Rich ten dollars to pretend.  Rich cared nothing about the prom and saw it
an easy way to make some cash.  I was furious!”

I leaned forward.  “So, what did you do?  Did
you go?”

She paused as we entered the visitor parking
at the airport.  She found a spot, pulled in, and turned to me.  “I almost
didn’t.  But my parents had spent thirty-five dollars on my prom dress and I
knew it had been a sacrifice for them.  So I went, and of course our first stop
was to get ice cream.  Sat there in our fancy clothes, sharing a banana split. 
And the rest is history.”

“That’s it?  After all that, he won you over
in a single night?”  I laughed.

Helen shrugged.  “To be honest, he’d won me
over long before that; I was just afraid and therefore refused to acknowledge
it.  He swept me off my feet that night.”  She took off her sunglasses and her
eyes glistened with unshed tears.  “From that day forward, until cancer took
him from me at forty-five, that man infuriated me.  He knew all the buttons to
push, knew just how to get under my skin.  And the arguments, Lord, how we
argued!  We were both stubborn and had to have the last word.”  A single tear
trickled from her eye.  “But that man loved me.  With every fiber of his being,
and not a single day went by that he didn’t make sure I knew it.  No matter how
much we frustrated each other, giving up was never, ever an option.   He had me
the second he held his arm out and escorted me into Dottie’s ice cream parlor. 
I loved him completely, and without reservation.” 

More tears fell.  “We learned early on I
wasn’t able to conceive, and we’d always planned to adopt.  But it never seemed
the right time, and then he became sick, and I don’t know.  It just never
happened.  And after he died, people would tell me “you need to move on” or
“don’t worry, you’ll find love again”.  And I did.  I found you.”

I wiped my own tears and shook my head.  “No,
you could’ve found some—“

“I found you,” she repeated.  “I had already
experienced the greatest love of my life and knew no one else could possibly
fill his shoes.  So a year after he passed, I finally decided to do what we’d
never found the time for.  And there you were, needing someone so badly.  And I
felt like Jerry was telling me, this is it, baby.  She’s the one.”

She turned off the car.  “Reagan, I’ve said
all this to say that I can’t tell you what to do about Nathan.  But I would
have to be blind to not see that you obviously love him.  And you didn’t see
him those few days at the hospital.  I did.  He never left, not once.  And yes,
he hurt you, and no, it probably won’t be the last time.  He’ll probably do
things that infuriate you, make you want to kill him.  Men are dumb,
sometimes.”  She blew her nose on a tissue she pulled from the middle console. 
“But if you are lucky enough to find a love as intense, and passionate as I
did, don’t ever let it go!  Loves like that don’t come around often.  You have
to ask yourself:  life without him.  What does that look like?  Life together
may not be perfect, and there will be times when you’ll drive each other nuts,
but if you can’t possibly imagine the rest of your life without him, then he’s
worth the risk, dontcha think?”

I wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled
her in for a hug.   “Thank you for telling me about Jerry.  I know I don’t say
it nearly enough, but I love you.”

She kissed my cheek and smiled.  “Something
tells me we’re gonna be packing up your stuff before too long.”  She opened her
door.  “Now come on.  You have a plane to catch.”

Nathan

I paid for my coffee and headed back upstairs
to my mother’s room.  It was just past eight o’clock, and Mom had been taken
for some additional x-rays so I had some time to kill.  Jake had arrived in the
early morning hours, and had offered to stay long enough for me to go home,
shower and change.  He’d left about an hour ago to do the same.

I pushed open the door to her room and was
surprised to see my father standing at the window, staring out at the skyline. 
“What are you doing here?”  I was exhausted, and my voice reflected it.

He turned to me and stared me down over the
rims of his heavy black framed glasses.  “If we’re going to do this, let’s get
it done.  None of us need a repeat of yesterday.” 

He was going to support the recovery and get
Mom in treatment.  I was right, and he knew it.  He would never admit it, and
even now had to come across as if he were the one giving the demands, but he
was at least with me on this, and that was all I cared about.  “Okay, then. 
I’ve found a center—“

He raised his hand.  “I don’t care where she
goes, Nathanial.  Wherever you think is best.  Just let me know who to make the
check out to.”  He turned back to the window and an awkward silence fell
between us.  My father and I were always at odds, and if we spoke at all, it
was usually in a game of verbal swordplay, each jab thrust with the intent to
wound our opponent.  This moment of mutual agreement, truce, or whatever it
was, was completely foreign to me. 

I sat in a chair by the bed and stared out at
the same skyline.  After several moments of silence, I decided to take
advantage of the moment and ask the question that had bothered me for years. 
“Did you ever love her?”

He didn’t turn.  “Who, your mother?”  He
laughed.  “She and I reached an agreement long before you and Thomas were ever
born.”

An agreement.  Like their marriage was just
another contract, not unlike the dozens that passed his desk any given day. 
This was the woman he had married and had fathered two sons with.  Considering
what I felt for Reagan, I didn’t understand an arrangement like theirs.  The
thought of marrying and sharing my life with anyone but her was appalling. 

“That’s a no, then.  And us?  You had two
sons to carry on the Preston name.  Most men would have been proud.  But not
you.  You’ve fought me every step of the way, and things were only slightly
better when Thomas was still alive.  Two sons, who would have given anything to
gain your approval.  Did none of that matter to you?”  I knew I sounded
desperate and weak.  At this point in the game, why did I even care?

My father sighed, and turned to face me, his
hands planted squarely on his hips.  “There are things you don’t know, and will
never understand.  Marriage and children are not the life I’d planned.  And the
mother you are so quick to defend is no saint herself.  Like I said, we had an
agreement, and she knew full well what she was getting when she married me.” 

I didn’t respond.   What was there to say? 
What does one say to their father when he all but admits he’d never wanted you
in the first place?  I’d always held on to the belief—however foolishly—that he
hadn’t always been this way.  That perhaps something in the past had changed
him, and he’d loved us all once.  But Roger Preston was a cold-hearted bastard and
it appeared he’d always been one.

“You and I?”  He pointed at me.  “You have
always had an excellent head for business, and think what you will of me, but I
respected that.  Thomas was always too charitable; had too much of his mother
in him, but you.  You displayed the cutthroat business savvy needed in this
business, much like my own, and I knew you would be the one to one day take
over.  Why do you think I pushed you so hard?”  He shook his head.  “I had
hoped. . .that is, until you were so foolish enough to resign.  Really,
Nathanial.  You could have done so much.”

As if him being an ass my entire life could
be explained away as ‘pushing me’.  Pushing me to what?  Better myself because
he had my best interests as heart, and only wanted what was best for me, as any
concerned parent would?  Please.

He’d thought I was like him, and
that
is why he’d admired me . . .respected me.   His contempt at what he considered
weakness in my resigning was evident in the disapproving glare coming from
behind his Armani frames. 

Weakness would have been staying under my
father’s thumb for the rest of my life and I had done that long enough.  I had
quit, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it, or entice me back.  “I
don’t need you to be successful.  I never have,” I replied quietly. 

The door opened and we silently watched as my
mother was wheeled in.  The bruises and cuts on her face looked worse than they
had last night, and one would have to be blind to not see the tremors in her
hands as I helped the nurse get her back into bed. 

I quietly requested the nurse let me know
when the police arrived and then she left.  My parents and I sized each other
up as we each waited to see who would be the first to speak.  There was no one
else here, no distractions, nothing to serve as a buffer between the three of
us. 

It was just us, and a lifetime of hurt, anger
and regret.

In the end, it was my mother who spoke
first.  “Roger, I apologize if I have kept you from your work.  This is all so
silly, really.”  She clumsily reached for my arm.  “Nathan, I need to get
home.  When can I leave?” 

I grabbed her hand, feeling it tremble in my
own.  “Mom, we need to talk.  You remember the accident, right?  This is
serious.  You were drunk and were in no condition to be driving.  Why wasn’t
Ronald with you?”

She blinked several times, appearing for a
moment as if she didn’t understand where she was or how she got there. 
“Ronald?  He wasn’t there.  I gave him the day off.”  She shifted uncomfortably
on the bed.  “Please, I just need to get home.”

Both the apartment in Manhattan and the house
in the Hamptons were currently being divested of all alcoholic beverages by the
staff, upon my order.  She didn’t know that, however, and clearly thought bliss
from a bottle would be awaiting her upon her return.  “You haven’t been discharged
yet, Mother.  And when you are, you won’t be going home.”  I looked over at my
father, who remained expressionless.   “I found a recovery center in California;
one of the best in the nation.  I’m making arrangements for you to spend some
time there.”

Her laugh sounded shrill in the relative
silence of her room as she snatched her hand away from me.  “Don’t be
ridiculous, Nathan.”

“You were drunk, Mom.  You’ve been slowly
drinking yourself to death for years!  There is nothing ridiculous about that.” 

Tears welled in her eyes, and she became
visibly restless on the bed, fidgeting beneath the blanket.  Withdrawal was
rapidly showing its vicious face and I realized this had probably been the
longest she’d been without alcohol in her system in the last two years.  “I
wasn’t drunk. . .I just . . .whatever the problem is, Nathan, just take care of
it.  I’ll do better, I promise!”  Hysteria rose in her voice, making it high
pitched and whiney.  “I won’t do it!  I’m fine.  I don’t need any rehab!  Just
get me home—“

“Katherine!”  The loud burst startled us
both, and we both turned to see my father step closer to the bed, his eyes
snapping.  “Enough!”

“Roger, please!”  My mother continued to
plead, as I growled in frustration and turned to my briefcase.  Pulling a
manila envelope from it, I turned to the bed and angrily dumped its contents on
my mother’s lap.  Strangled sobs escaped her throat as she recognized the
mangled car in the photos, saw the stretcher carrying Thomas’s sheet-covered
body.  Accident photos that had been in my possession since they’d been taken,
but had never been viewed by any of us.

I realized dumping a pile of horror on her,
literally, was extreme, but I had brought them in anticipation of a fight with
her over rehab.  They were my last resort.  But seeing the pictures now
startled us all.  I don’t even think I had really been prepared to see my
brother’s body forever immortalized in death in the stark black and white
pictures glaring up at us.

My mother recoiled immediately.  My father
cursed and walked back over to the window.  Even he wasn’t exempt from the
shock.

“Nathan,” my mother wailed.  “Why would you
do this to me?  Get me out—“

“A drunk driver killed your son!” I yelled. 
“My only brother!  Someone was ignorant and selfish enough to get behind a
wheel and they stole Thomas from us!”  I picked up the picture of him on the
stretcher and held it in front of her face.  “You made the same ignorant and
selfish choice yesterday, Mom!  You could have killed someone else’s son, someone’s
brother, or YOURSELF!”

She flailed her arms at me, refusing to look
at the picture in my hands.  My father came over and pushed me out of the way. 
“This has gone on long enough!” he barked.  Whether he meant the scene playing
out here in the hospital, or the last two years of denial, I didn’t know. 
Perhaps both.  “Katherine, you have proven that your problems have become much
larger than you can handle, and you are a danger to both yourself and others
around you.  You will go to this treatment center, and you will do so quietly
and with no further argument!”

Tears streamed from her eyes as all fight
fled from her.  She closed her eyes and simply nodded her agreement.  My father
looked at me, tilted his head once as if to say ‘there. . .it’s all taken care
of’, and left the room, no doubt glad to be away from the annoyance that was
his family.

I silently gathered up the pictures from
where they lay scattered about the bed, and put them back in my briefcase,
making a mental note to burn them as soon as I got home.  I was never going to
forget Thomas, but I wanted to remember the good times we had shared, not the
horrible circumstances of his death.   It was time I moved on.  It was time we
all moved on.

I sat on the end of her bed and wiped her
tears.  “Mom, I’m sorry.  I’m so very sorry it has come to this.”

She looked at me pleadingly.  “Nathan, I
don’t know if I can do this. . I can’t. . .” 

“Shhhh,” I whispered.  “You can.  I know you
can.  We’ll help you.”  I pulled the blanket up and stood.  “I’m going to
request the doctor gives you something to help you rest.  I’ll be back in a
bit, okay?”

I spoke briefly with the doctor and explained
the need for detox treatment immediately, giving consent for my mom to be
transferred to the nearest detox facility, where she would remain until the
worst of the withdrawal symptoms had past.  From there I would take her to the
treatment center in California, where I hoped the change in scenery, and being
far away from the life and memories here in the city, would help in the
recovery process. 

The police met me on the way out, and advised
the deli owner was willing to allow us to take on full responsibility for all
repairs and would not be filing any further charges.  I obtained his contact
information and that of his lawyer, and promised that I would arrange a meeting
to finalize the agreement so he could be up and running again as soon as
possible.  The police would still need to speak with my mother to take her
official statement for their records, but agreed it would have to wait until
she was fully detoxed and capable of speaking with them.

I texted Jake to let him know I was heading
home, so there was no need for him to rush back up to the hospital.  He could
meet me up there in a few hours. 

I was so exhausted, both physically and
mentally.  I hadn’t slept in well over twenty-four hours, and I felt that lack,
as my body screamed in protest with every step I took.  I made it to my SUV in
the parking garage before the emotions of the last two days overtook me, and
the tears came.