Marcus: The M Series, Book Three (12 page)

“So am I,” Joshua yelled. “You have to be the stupidest fucker on the planet, Marcus!”

“Why the fuck is everyone yelling at me? I feel bad enough as it is,” I roared, standing. I see Wexler walking out of the elevator. I point his way, scowling. “What's he doing here?”

“Isn't that Wexler,” Matthew asked.

“Yes. Why is he here? Shit! I bet he's the one that told Mariah!”

I got to the door but they stopped me before I could go through it. Joshua pushed me to a chair as Matthew went to talk to Wexler. It gets heated quickly and Thomas got between them. Wexler angrily walked out the door; Thomas and Matthew entered Evelyn’s office.

“Evelyn,” Thomas grunted with a sharp nod. “Marcus, what the hell were you thinking? She's called Lisa and Rachel, completely broken by this. You know what happens when she's stressed. And now, no one knows where she's gone. I pray she took her medicine this morning!”

“What happens to her, Cramp,” Joshua asked.

“She has debilitating migraines,” I answered quietly.

“Shit, I forgot about that! Damn it, Marcus,” Matthew scolded as he pulls out his cell. “Evelyn, did you see what cab company picked her up?”

“Yellow.”

I snorted. Talk about ironic. I repeatedly called Mariah, to no avail. It went straight to voicemail.

“Salim? Matthew Cannon. I'm calling in one ... Okay, but it's gonna cost you five ... No a day, fucker ... I have a staff to pay, you cheap bastard ... Fine, send the info. Who responded to a call to the Harvey-Reed clinic this afternoon? ... Annette Wilbur? ...  Is she still on? ... Good. Put me through to her.”

Matthew rapidly snaps his fingers at Evelyn then pointed to the desk. She rolled her eyes at him, handed him a pen and notepad then smacked his head like my mother does. He chuckled.

“Love you, Evie ... Yes, Ms. Wilbur? ... Sorry, Mrs. Wilbur. I’m Matthew Cannon, P.I. I understand you picked up a young woman at Harvey-Reed this afternoon, is that correct?” He scowled at me. “Yes, a young woman in tears. Can you tell me where you dropped her?” He writes furiously and passed it to me. “Thank you, Mrs. Wilbur, you've been very helpful.”

I looked and shook my head. “I don't know this address.” I passed it back to Matthew and he showed it to the others. Thomas looked and immediately, relief crossed his face. He pulled out his cell.

“Is Cookie with you? ... I don't care ... Technically, I called you ... Her mother and I are worried that she's stressed and distraught ... Damn it! ... Is she having any pain? ... What plan? … Oh, good ... How long? ... One of you call me after dinner and let me know ...  Fine ... All right, as you're leaving, understand? ... No, I'll be there. Rachel will want to see her ... Fine ... Just keep her relaxed. I'll see you later.”

I looked at Thomas anxiously. His expression was full of doubt.

“Thomas, I won't crowd her, I swear. I just need to see that she's okay.”

He took a deep breath. “She's with Ethan. He's taking her out with some friends, as well as Tom and Monica. He says she was crying uncontrollably when she finally made it to him, but he got her calmed and talking. Monica's bringing her some clothes and they will have dinner, then go to some bar. He promises not to leave her side and I'm sure Tom won't either.”

“Where? What bar?”

“I don't know, Marcus. Someone will call after she has something to eat.”

I stood. “I want to know, Thomas. I have to see her.”

“I don't know...”

“I'll go with him, Thomas,” Evelyn offered, then looked at Joshua and Matthew. “No, we have that business meeting for Katherine tonight. I'll see if Russ will go.” She picked up the desk phone and dialed. “Hi, Russ. Did you finish your paperwork? ... Good. I need you to go somewhere with Marcus tonight. He fucked up with his girlfriend and he's going to attempt to fix it ... No, it's a bar ... We’re not sure yet, he's waiting on a call ... Yes, that's fine. Thank you, babe ... I love you, too.” She slammed the phone down. “He'll be at your place at seven and sit around with you while you wait for the call.”

“Fine, I'll call you after I know. Do whatever she asks you, Marcus... if she even talks to you,” Thomas ordered.

“I'll be at Mother's after the meeting,” Matthew said, glaring. “You better not be.”

I scowled at him. I went back upstairs to get my things, as well as Mariah's keys and anklet, wanting to put it back where it belonged, always.

11:57 p.m.

I got to Mother's in record time.  Thank God Russ and I took separate cars. We needed to. That fucker lit into me for my stupidity, just like the rest of the family.

“Cramp? What happened,” Matthew asked as I stormed into Mother's living room and went straight to the bar. I ignored him and opened a fresh bottle of scotch, drinking it straight from the bottle.

“Shit, this is not good,” Matthew muttered. “Rockford... Same shit, Mother's.”

“I don't need babysitting, Toad. Get the fuck out of here!”

“No,” he shouted. “Look at what you're doing!”

“What? You've never seen a man want to drink his life away before?” I turned and took another drink. “Fucking song. Damn it! Where did she learn to sing like that?”

“Russ, what the fuck happened? ... Yeah, he just showed up at Mother's ... She was? ... Right ... Luther Vandross? ... Oh, okay, then what? ... Take a Bow? Take a Bow ... Ohhhhh... Oh, shit ... Yeah, okay. Got it ... Shoot it to my phone ... Thanks, brother ... Yeah, I will.”

“Of all the fucking songs... Damn, I fucked up, Toad.” I had another long gulp then scowled when Matthew snatched the bottle from me.

“Every-fucking-time I come in this house someone takes my drink! Shit!” I opened the door on the bar and pulled out another and Matthew took that one, too. “Fuck you, Matthew,” I shouted as I burst into the study.

I grab another bottle and guzzled. It burned like hell. I sat on the couch and Matthew silently sat across from me as we waited for Joshua. A few minutes later, I heard rapid footsteps through the hall then Joshua burst through the door.

“What,” he said, breathlessly. “What happened?”

“Apparently, Mariah can sing,” Matthew informed.

“And? Damn it, there better be more than that to this story, Cramp! I was in the beginning of something... with Mandy, fucker!”

“She wouldn't even look at me. She won a karaoke contest and sang that fucking song.”

Joshua scowled. “What fucking song?”

I guzzled again. “Take a Bow,” Matthew answered.

“I don't know it,” Joshua mumbled, pulling out his cell. He tapped on it then asked, “Is that Madonna?”

“Yep,” Matthew nodded.

“Do not play that fucking song,” I shouted.

“I have to, Cramp. I want to know why you're destroying your liver again and why I had to leave Mandy damn near naked!”

“Use your fucking earpiece! I don't want to hear it again!”

“Hold on, Twerp,” Matthew said, looking at his cell. “Come over here. It's from Russ.”

They each put a bud in their ear and watched the screen. I had to be Mariah singing. That thought’s cemented when they looked up at me at the same time. I took another gulp of scotch.

“That's not really her singing, is it,” Joshua muttered, amazed.

“She looks good. Fuck, she sounds phenomenal. Why is she a nurse?”

“I don't fucking know,” I mumbled at Matthew, starting to feel fuzzy.

They grew quiet as they listened. I grew more irritated. I finished the bottle and grabbed the bottle I opened earlier.

Joshua whistled and sat next to me. “Damn, Cramp. That look she gave you at the end... you really fucked up.”

I took another gulp. “Not helping, Twerp,” Matthew quietly scoffed.

“I know, but still… Cramp, if you're going to drink, slow down. Mariah can't take you back if you're dead,” Joshua derided.

“She doesn't want me back. Did you hear the words in that fucking song?”

“Why didn't you tell her who you were? Are you still pissed at Dad?”

“She hates money,” I slurred.

Matthew and Joshua looked at each other. I shook my head and took another gulp and think. Well, I tried to think, but the alcohol had started to do its job. Damn, I should’ve eaten. I looked at Joshua.

“She and her mother struggled a long time when her father died. Mariah's medical bills bankrupted her and the...” I attempted to drink again, but Joshua took the bottle. I stood. “Tell him, Toad. I bet you fucking know.”

“Boys? What's going on? Marcus? Are you drunk,” Mother asks as I staggered to the bar.

“Little bit. Not enough. I'll fix that in a minute,” I slurred as I grabbed another bottle.

Dad eased alongside me and took the bottle. “Son... You've had enough. Where's Mariah?”

“I fucked it up, Dad. She left me. Give me the bottle back.”

He set it in front of me and I gripped it tight, trying to remove the cap. Mother moved to my other side and snatched the bottle.

“Marcus, no! You’ve had more than enough, already! Why did Mariah leave you? What did you do, darling?”

The room spun. I put my head down and wouldn’t answer.

“He never told her his real name and she found out elsewhere,” Joshua told her.

“Okay, wait, wait... how did she find out?”

“That fucking Wexler,” I slurred as the alcohol consumed me.

“Why would you keep it secret, son?”

“Maffew... Matchew... Mattrew... You! Middle son! Tell 'em,” I said, picking up another bottle. I opened it, took a drink and spit it right out. Damn seltzer water! I thought it was vodka. I snatched the bottle from Mother and took a long drink.

Matthew sighed. “Mariah's father and twin siblings, a boy and a girl, died in a car wreck on an expressway in Chicago when Mariah was eight. Mariah was the only survivor. Her father died on impact, the twins died in the ambulance.”

“Oh, my God,” Mother gasped. “How old were those babies?”

“Three.”

“Did Mariah suffer, son,” Dad asked.

“I was told in addition to her neck, she had second and third degree burns on her back. She had numerous surgeries and was in-patient for almost a year and they almost lost Mariah the second night she was there. I spoke with her grandparents, Marcus, when we came back from Tokyo. They didn't care about Rachel's life, but they knew what happened. They can't get past her marrying 'that... man.'”

Matthew walked over and took my bottle. He had a long swig and gave it back. He sighed hard then said, “I was so disgusted when I left them. I'd never seen such... hatred. From everyone else's stand point, Donald Hollander was the salt of the Earth. Rachel’s parents just couldn't see any deeper than the color of his skin and wanted nothing to do with her children.”

I shook my head as I dropped on the couch. How could anyone reject my beautiful Mariah?

“She hates money. Really hates it... they never had enough of it,” I mumbled.

Matthew continued. “Rachel filed bankruptcy when the medical bills piled up, then there was Mariah's student loans. Mariah and her mother worked for years and still haven't put a dent into the medical bills. Mariah is still paying it off. I don't think Rachel's told Thomas about it, even though he paid off Mariah's student loans.”

He paused and put a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look at him. “I bought that debt, Marcus. The money she pays every month goes into a savings bond. When she finishes, if she finishes, she will be told she can keep it or give to a charity of her choosing. Mariah is very proud and I don't think either of us should tell her what I did.”

He looked away from me. “That is why she rejected Marcus. I believe she loves him, but she's afraid to accept where he comes from. It's not Marcus; it's the name and what's behind it.”

I felt defeated at his words. “She's never coming back to me! Fucking stupid song! What am I going to do without her?”

I continued my drunken rant. Joshua told them what happened.

“May I have a private moment with Marcus,” Dad asked in his clipped English tone.

I felt his hand on my shoulder and his voice to my right. “Son. Have you eaten? Let's go to the kitchen. We'll get a bite and put our heads together.”

“I'm not hungry, Dad. I just... need her. I want her back.”

“I understand that, son. Let's figure out how to do that while we get something in your stomach.”

July 9, 2011

I laid across the bed with a cold towel on my forehead, at Mother’s insistence. I shouldn't have drunk so much; my head had been pounding all damn day. I wondered how Mariah dealt with her head pain and had for so long. And mother locked away all the alcohol, so no ‘hair of the dog.’ Mean woman.

“She's here, Cramp. Mariah showed up,” Matthew announced, coming into my guest room at Mother's. “Brace yourself.”

“Why,” I asked, wincing as I joined him at the window that overlooked the garden.

“Look to the left, in the red,” he said, pointing.

Mariah was on my father's arm and he was introducing her to his brother, my uncle Bradford from England. She looked fucking amazing. I didn't feel the pounding in my head anymore.