AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I never said it wasn’t, Ad, but you’re an adult now. How long can you blame your mother for your unhappiness?”
I sit up at that.
“I am not unhappy, and I don’t blame her. I just…I don’t know.”
I deflate again, I don’t know what I mean.
“And go easy on Milly, she is having a hard time. She and Kevin are going through something. It’s obvious, right? But you telling her she has given up her life for her man was such a low blow.”
“I know. Oh, God. I am so sorry. I need to call her.” I this comes out in a groan that is muffled by the arm covering my face again.
“Yes, but give her a couple of days. And get your shit together. Life is not roses for any of us, Addie. All of us struggle in our own way.”
I want to balk at the word struggle. Lilly, besides the initial sadness and anger, seemed to move beyond my dad’s leaving faster than all of us. She is a serial monogamist and doesn’t seem to worry about letting men too close. But I’ve heard her say that she doesn’t need marriage to be committed.
Milly got married as soon as she could. You couldn’t call her relationship with Kevin passionate. She told me that she wanted the security of marriage without the blindness of being head over in heels in love. She’d said she loved Kevin, but not in a way that would make her stupid. Wel
l, she seemed to have followed my mother’s footsteps. She didn’t have a career and her son was her entire life.
Lilly pulls me into a bear hug, which is nearly smothering. This is her away. She doesn’t do anything by half measures. “I love you, sissypoo. I want you to be happy. Your dreams aren’t anywhere but inside of you, waiting for you to quit blocking them with your anger.”
And with that, Lilly gets to the heart of the matter. And so I sit, at twenty-six years old, in my big sister’s lap and cry my heart out for the little girl who still thinks her dreams are dead; and for the woman who I’m apparently too stuck in the past to convince her otherwise.
August 4, 2014
London, England
Summer’s swan song is pitiful. The warmth of July caves like a coward to the cool of August. As I begin my commute to work on Monday morning, I pull my jacket’s collar up around my neck to protect myself from the cold.
It’s been a week since my family left, and I’ve only spoken to my sisters once. I talked to Milly and apologized. She accepted my apology really graciously. She even said she understood why I was angry and that she didn’t know if I was entirely wrong. I tried to talk her about Kevin, but she ended the conversation by saying she had another call.
I haven’t spoken to my mother at all. I hate the way we left things. I know that because we haven’t been talking, I’ll be getting call from my FBI Liaison Agent Walker any day now. In exchange for new last names and anonymity, we’ve basically traded our privacy. They monitor everything we do and made it very clear when I moved to London this would not change. So, when we go a long time without talking, they grow suspicious.
It’s ludicrous to think we would be in touch with our father and not let them know. I realize I can’t speak with the same certainty for my sisters or my mother. If I knew where he is, I would turn him in. He ruined our lives and then ran off. I hope wherever he is, he’s broke, cold, and hungry. But, I know he is not. And it brings a familiar sour taste to my mouth.
I arrive at my offices in The Aldwych with a few minutes to spare, so I slow my pace to take in the beautiful surroundings. It’s old and steeped in tradition. The Royal Courts of Justice, the world famous London School of Economics, and several theaters all share the same stretch of the city. It’s right next to the lauded Covent Garden, so the people whose paths I cross everyday are an eclectic mix of students, lawyers, journalists, actors, dancers, and tourists. It’s a wonderful.
Some of the buildings still have their original Victorian facades, but a lot of them are modern buildings, all chrome, glass, and smooth white surfaces. It feels like a place I never want to leave.
As I step into the beautifully appointed granite walled lobby of my law firm, LaSalle and Willis, I steel myself for the battle I fight every day to prove I belong.
I am dressed in what I call my uniform; black pencil skirt, silk black turtleneck, opaque black tights and my black rounded toe, 4 inch red-bottomed Louboutin’s that were my splurge when I got this job.
I am one of only a handful of women in this office and the only person who cannot claim European heritage. It is only my double degree from Harvard and my stellar academic record that have made me acceptable to many who would rather keep this an all English boy’s club. I walk to my office and am greeted half-heartedly by my secretary. She has made no secret she would rather be working for anybody else.
“Good morning, Taylor” I say as I breeze past her desk on my way to my office.
As usual her response is a barely audible, “Good morning.”
I shake her off and sit at my desk, turn on my computer, and get my day started. I have a very productive morning. I have a status meeting with my Managing Partner which goes very well. I feel in control on days like this. I don’t think about the mess my personal life is in. I don’t worry about the FBI or my father. I don’t worry about my mother or sisters. I don’t even think about that beautiful man who has been plaguing my thoughts since I met him two weeks ago. I am happy in this space. I don’t know if I am following my dreams, but this feels pretty good to me.
I am so absorbed in my work that it’s 12:30, fifteen minutes later than normal, when I make my way to meet Cara for our Monday lunch date at the Duck and Waffle around the corner.
She is already waiting when I get there, and seeing her there, smiling at me, inspires a grin in return. I make my way across the crowded, brightly lit restaurant. It’s a popular lunch spot because of the spacious seating and the delicious but cheap food.
It’s packed with bankers and lawyers. Cara, in her jeans and bright yellow sweater, with her white blonde hair, up in a huge messy bun on top of her head stands out among the sea of black and blue suits.
“Hey! How’s tricks, Care Bear?”
