Stray (22 page)

Realistically, I probably couldn’t do anything before the new year was well underway. Everyone was on a slowdown that would last through the weekend after the first, the result of two holidays back-to-back midweek. On the Monday after that, I would hire a private detective, knowing that they had better, more sophisticated methodology now than they’d had twenty years ago. Meanwhile, I idly brought up Facebook and plugged in her maiden name. Ellyn Eileen Gates, hometown Sunshine, CO. It was almost too easy.

~*~

I stared at the screen in shock. There, with her privacy settings wide open, was the woman who had to be my mother. Not only did her name, and hometown match, but I might as well have been looking in a mirror. Why hadn
’t I thought of this before? From what I could see on her timeline, she’d been a Facebook subscriber for at least five years. Five years we’d never get back, not to mention the previous seventeen. I realized I was shaking as I gazed at her face.

She hadn’t changed. How could it be that she hadn’t changed? Had time passed her by, or stood still for her? Consumed with a need to know what her life was like, I scrolled through her picture albums. Plenty of nature shots, selfies with trees right behind her and distant mountains in the background, lakes and waterfalls and wildflowers. She loved nature, then. I hadn’t known or remembered that about her.  Now and then another person in the shot, usually a woman, always smiling, their arms wrapped around each others’ waists. The same woman, every time. Was this a good friend, or something else? Could my mother have realized she was a lesbian and run away to be with her lover?

Impossible to know, impossible to guess. I looked at pictures for hours, every picture in her photo albums, and then started going through her posts. She had a sense of humor, it was plain to see. Less plain was her relationship with the woman. Her relationship status was ‘it’s complicated’. I hated that. You never knew what that meant. I didn’t see any shares that indicated a support of same-sex marriage, gays, rainbow coalition. Nor did I see anything that indicated she was with a man. Very little except cute memes featuring Maxine, links to YouTube videos of songs from the eighties and nineties. I had to know more.

If I sent her a friend request under my name, she might freak out, close down her account and disappear again. How could I keep that from happening? As if I hadn’t learned my lesson about deception the first time, I formed a plan and put it in motion before I thought too hard about it. I went through Mom’s favorites, found some books and movies I thought I could discuss, and created a new account. I borrowed Erin’s name, the first female name I thought of, paired it with a random last name—Johnson—and got a picture of Max off my phone for my profile shot. Then I set up my favorites to match Mom’s and posted a few memes. I’d have to be patient, but before long I’d send her a friend request on the strength of our ‘mutual interests’.

It never occurred to me that I was invading her privacy, or that she wouldn’t want me to find her. After all, it had been easy; she’d made it easy by using her real name, her real picture and wide-open privacy settings. Maybe I should have just boldly sent her a friend request as me, maybe that’s what she was hoping. But, I’d used stealth and strategic planning for so long that I acted as if it were the only way. Doing it that way almost cost me Erin’s friendship again, but that came later.

I couldn
’t think of disappointing Doc again, so I said nothing about having found Mom. The weekend flew by as I posted this or that, building up my fake persona until I judged it sufficient to seem like a real person. On Monday, I took Max to his therapy session, feeling for the first time that he was my dog.

I hadn’t signed anything official yet, and Erin hadn’t asked me to, but it was understood. Max was boarding at the clinic until Erin considered him ready to go home, and then I’d take him home and I’d be a pet owner. That was a big deal in Colorado, more so than anywhere she knew of, Erin told me. In Colorado, people would break your car windows if they saw an overheated pet in the car, would turn you in for animal abuse if you dragged a dog on a leash. Even people who couldn’t afford it spent a small fortune on accessories for their pets. It sounded normal to me, but Erin was amazed.

It was a couple of weeks away, still, but I needed to start thinking about a place of my own. I had a home in Boulder, but the commute didn’t appeal to me and I needed to be at the resort during working hours. I’d been staying in a suite since the night I brought Ashleigh up here to ski, and as the CEO I could probably get away with bringing Max here, but it was no place for an active dog. He needed a fenced yard to run in, and the truth was I needed a house of my own. I made an appointment with an agent to start house-hunting on Thursday, the day after New Year’s Day.

Meanwhile, the party loomed large in my future. I retrieved my tux from Boulder on my trip there to take Max that Monday, and made sure I had a clean shirt and cuff links for the French cuffs. Egren might punch me, or Ashleigh might dump the punch on me; it didn’t matter. I had to look my best, from the time Erin arrived until whatever happened with the Egrens. After that, I suspected I’d no longer look my best, but it was a sacrifice that had to be made.

Erin had been friendly enough on Monday, and I asked if I could pick her up for the party.

“No, Jon. You said yourself it isn’t a date. I’ll drive myself there, it will be fine.”

“How will you get home if you have too much champagne?” I asked.

“I won’t have too much. But if I do, I’ll wait to sober up.” It was the best she could do, unless she’d let me take her home, and the truth was, I might be impaired, too. There were no taxis in Sunshine. No need for them; the town itself was only a few blocks long and a few wide, so everything was within walking distance. The resort didn’t really count, but if a townie couple wanted a really nice dinner, they’d drive. I gave up trying to manage Erin and decided to let things happen the way they would happen. I really had no choice.

At last, Tuesday evening arrived, and I dressed carefully for the party. It was show time, again.

As the CEO, I was on hand from the moment guests started to arrive, to greet employees and shareholders alike. The ballroom was a fantasy land of crystal, cream satin tablecloths and drapes of gold lam
é
, the brainchild of the party planner. With the background of white and gold, the ladies all looked spectacular in their colorful gowns and jewelry, or classic black gowns with pearls that reflected the white of the tablecloths.

Erin arrived and took my breath away in a draped green silk gown that hugged her curves, the cashmere shawl I’d given her thrown casually around her shoulders. I took that from her and handed it to the coat-check clerk, noticing only then that Erin’s gown had no back above the waist.

If I hadn’t been able to breathe before, it was becoming a crisis now. I struggled with my natural impulse to check her out, knowing that beneath the thin silk, her breasts were free of restraint. I remembered those breasts, perfect in shape and size for my hands. My palms itched to know them again, but I had to keep my eyes on hers, show her that I wasn’t the animal she’d come to believe me to be. My hand rested against her bare skin, soft and silky, as I introduced her to several shareholders, and then handed her over to Doc.

“Erin, you look…stupendous,” Doc said, failing to keep his own eyes where they belonged. I cleared my throat. “What, I’m an old man, I can look, can’t I?”

Erin’s startled laugh reminded us that she probably wouldn’t appreciate our conversational topic, so I glared at Doc and said, “Please take care of the lady, Doc.” Emphasis on the
lady
to remind him. Erin sat, and I sent a waiter over with a flute of champagne for her. I planned to make my apologies to the Egrens only after dinner and dessert. If it went down as I expected, there would be an  ugly scene, and I didn’t want to spoil anyone’s dinner. Hopefully, it wouldn’t spoil their holiday dance, either. I would do my best to keep it discreet, had already informed Doc and Mrs. P that I needed them as witnesses, but hoped that not many others would be disturbed. In this way, it would be both public, as I’d promised, and somewhat private. Erin would also be a witness, but I didn’t tell her.

I counted my glasses of champagne, wishing for something stronger but knowing I had obligations that precluded getting drunk. As dinner began, I stood and tapped my glass for attention for a short speech of welcome. A few words about the strides we’d made in protecting our beautiful canyon, our greatest resource, and then I sat so the guests could eat in peace. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Egren scowled at my remarks, or that Ashleigh was giving me significant looks that I couldn’t interpret. God, I hoped this wouldn’t backfire. What would I do if she cried, or threw herself at me? Anything but anger or the cold shoulder would be a disaster. How would I handle it? I didn’t have a clue, and the nerves threatened to spur me into headlong flight.

Dinner over, dessert being served, an employee representative rose to thank corporate—me—for the lovely party. I hoped they’d still appreciate it when dessert was done. Cheesecake, of course; it was expected. I loathed cheesecake, but I took a few bites to maintain appearances.

All through dinner and now dessert, Erin and Doc had bantered with each other and with Mrs. P, who was also seated at our table. Mrs. P pretended to flirt with Doc, who, despite his age, was a good ten years younger than she. Doc was trying to be gallant to both Mrs. P and Erin, whose enjoyment of the company was evident in her high color and tinkling laugh. Erin’s fair hair was piled on top of her head and shot through with a complicated network of thin braids, making her look like a silhouette on a Greek vase. When I could forget my coming ordeal, I entertained myself by imagining how it would be to loosen that hair and bury my face in it. Or, in those perfect breasts, which danced under the silk every time she laughed.

The orchestra was due to start playing in about fifteen minutes; it was time. I rose from my chair, excusing myself to the other three at the table, and walked several yards around the edge of the room until I found Egren and Ashleigh at their table.

“Would you care to join me for a toast?” I asked, hoping to get them away from the couple who shared their table, shareholders whom I didn’t recognize, and into the relative privacy of our corner.

“I don’t see why we should,” boomed Egren. So, it was going to be that way. It was nothing I hadn’t expected, so I went with it.

“Rowland, you and I have had our differences,” I began, causing the other couple to look at each other with worried expressions. “I owe you an apology for the way I cut you out, it was a cowardly act. I’m deeply, genuinely sorry.” The couple shot out of their chairs and walked quickly toward the dance floor before Egren could answer. He appeared to be having some trouble finding words, but it was his turn to speak. I wouldn’t interrupt his thoughts.

“I must say, I didn’t think you had it in you, Miles,” he said finally. “I was going to throw that back in your face. I find I can’t, though. Very nicely done.”

“Rowland, I would like to offer you that toast. It wasn’t just a ploy,” I answered. I hadn’t dared look at Ashleigh yet. I could feel her disdain coming off her in waves, though. This was the real part that needed to happen with Erin as witness. Without another word, I turned sideways and gestured toward my table. Egren stood and began to walk, so Ashleigh had little choice but to follow. Her eyes flashed at me as she passed.

“Are you here with that—
cunt
,” she asked, hesitating as she sought the most insulting word in her vocabulary. I wouldn’t answer. Any answer I could give would acknowledge that word, and it in no way applied to Erin. If Ashleigh only knew how Erin had stood up for her. She’d never understand, though. It wouldn’t cross her mind that there was anything in Erin’s mind but ulterior motives. And it didn’t matter. I was going to apologize, and do it sincerely. How she received it was up to her.

In only a moment we were at my table, and I pulled a couple of chairs from an empty table nearby to accommodate our increased numbers. I signaled the waiter for a round of champagne, which he brought quickly enough that I didn’t have to fill the interim with conversation. Everyone seemed waiting for something, though Erin looked slightly puzzled. Doc and Mrs. P, of course, knew what was coming, as did Egren. Everyone, in fact, but Ashleigh and Erin.

As I proposed a toast to forging new friendships from the ashes of the old, I couldn’t help but contrast the two young women. Both about the same age, but Erin looked fresh and young, with dewy skin and a glow that positively lit her face. Ashleigh, on the other hand, looked hard and used. Had I done that to her? I felt a genuine pang of regret as the thought crossed my mind.

Everyone had taken a sip of their champagne after the toast, and it was time to do the hard part.

“Ashleigh,” I said. “There’s something I want to say to you, too. I know I acted like a jerk when I let you believe I cared for you. It was a crappy thing to do, and if it hurt you, I’ll always regret it. I’d like your forgiveness, if you can find it in your heart.” Even as I said it, I knew I’d got it wrong. Something had enraged her, and there was about to be a shit storm. All I could do was stand there and take it.

The champagne splashed into my face just a second before her words found my ears. “You let
me
believe! Why you arrogant prick! The only reason I was with you was because Daddy said it would be good to combine our shares. I loathed every minute of it.” Confused, I looked wildly in Egren’s direction, to find him staring at his daughter as if she’d lost her mind. She wasn’t through. “You mean nothing to me, and never did. Less than that miserable dog I hit, and yes, I still wish I’d killed it then.”

A gasp from beside me made me remember Erin. Hadn’t I ever told her Ashleigh hit the dog? Maybe not. Ashleigh was still in full attack mode, and a crowd was beginning to gather.

“I hope your whore here is better at giving blowjobs than at standing up for herself, since you’ll probably have her on her knees night and day. Not that I care whether you ever get off again, you miserable son of a bitch. Fuck whoever you want. In fact, fuck yourself. Don’t you ever,
ever
, try to tell anyone that you were with me to play me.
I
played
you
, got it?”

After I’d spent hours composing my apology, my first impulse was to argue. Then I realized how ridiculous that would be, each of us claiming to be the asshat in this situation. So, I merely nodded, and said, “Got it.”

Ashleigh turned to her father, whose face was red enough now that I wondered if we should call an ambulance. “Take me home, Daddy. I don’t ever want to see this prick again.” Egren shot me an apologetic look, of all things, as he followed Ashleigh out. I didn’t know what to say or do next.

Mrs. P saved me with an acerbic remark. “That young woman should have her mouth washed out with soap.” It brought down the house, those who were within earshot. Two or three of the ski instructors approached me over the course of the evening and confessed that they’d been with Ashleigh while she and I were dating. I made a mental note to get a comprehensive STD screening.

Erin watched the entire drama with wide gray-green eyes made brilliant by her green silk dress. At the end of the evening, I offered to take her home, but she told me that she was probably more sober than I was, and that she’d be fine.

“See you Thursday?” she asked.

“Sure.” It was a start.