Jon
“If both parties have come to an agreement then we can proceed with the hearing,” Judge Cabello said as he flipped through his documents.
Mediation shouldn’t have ended in us sitting in front of a judge, we should have worked it out together, but here we were anyway with nothing but lying and secrecy between us. Christine and her lawyers were pretending that she hadn’t received generous compensation from her father, the exact amounts that she had received weren’t known to me and I noticed they weren’t on our financial estimates at all. She didn’t call attention to my missing stock portfolio, or that my appraisal was only hours old – something Cabello had raised his eyebrows at but wasn’t saying anything about.
I tuned them out while the judge and Chrissy’s lawyers discussed our agreement, mainly the spousal support documents. What a load of shit that was, it wasn’t like I was leaving her destitute without my income, far from it since her father still bankrolled whatever I hadn’t for the past decade. I glanced at her across the room; her dark hair was pulled into a twisty knot at the nape of her neck with the two small bleached sections loose and framing her face, she wore a deep purple blouse, and earlier when she came in I had seen that she was wearing high-waisted black dress pants. My own powerful femme fatale right to the bitter end.
“You really go by Jonathan all the time?” Christine asked with a scoff. “Not even Jon or Jonny?”
I rolled my eyes and went back to scanning the textbook. “Not unless you want to test my patience.”
“Don’t be so lame.” She yanked the book out of my hands and dropped it on the floor. “I’m talking to you.”
“Don’t be such a hag,” I snapped, pushing myself up from my chair. What was with this girl? Why did she only want to bother me all the time?
Christine jumped out of her chair and pressed herself against me, I couldn’t help but glance down and stare at her tits in her incredibly low-cut shirt. My eyes slowly roamed back up to hers and I registered that she was smirking now and had a michevious glint in her hazel eyes.
“Want me to show you just how much of a bitch I can be?” she asked, practically purring while she ran her hands up towards my neck.
What? I should have pushed her away, but I wanted to touch her. I reached out and cupped her cheek, running my thumb back and forth across her smooth skin. She was so soft and I knew that this was the point where I couldn’t go back.
Christine grabbed at the sides of my face and pulled me down to her in a sudden kiss. I was supposed to stay away from girls while I was at school, I kept my trysts to short one-time-only-romps and I knew this one wasn’t going to let me pull that on her. I pushed Christine away and tried to feign annoyance at her disregard for me or what I wanted.
“What was that about?” I demanded.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Jonny.” She drew my name out, forcing it to sound almost seductive while she reached for my hand. “I can get you into the bar tonight if you want to come.”
“I don’t have a fake ID.”
“You don’t need one when you’re with me,” she assured with a wicked grin. “Take me on a date and I’ll show you what you’re missing out on.”
There had been a point where I was convinced that I wouldn’t be able to love anyone the way I loved her, just based on the way she pushed my buttons and tested my limits. I don’t know when we outgrew each other, but I was still going to be thankful for the time we had spent together. And just like I could be happy for her to have Peter, I hoped she could be happy for me having Lydia and Patrick.
“Mr. Harris?”
I jumped at the sound of my name and realized I had been completely zoned out while the judge had been trying to speak to me. “Yes?” I asked, standing and forcing myself to look attentive.
“You’ve already applied for the name change?” Cabello asked flatly, clearly having lost his patience some time ago.
I didn’t blame him, I wasn’t anywhere near what I used to be in court, I didn’t feel that excitement I did when I was with the firm. “Yes, I applied to drop Bower from my surname.”
“Alright, then with all parties satisfied I think we’re finished here.”
The court wrapped up and I hung around, waiting to catch Chrissy on her own. Her lawyers went on ahead of her and I reached out, touching her arm as she passed by.
“Chris,” I said, smiling at her. “Come to lunch with me and Mari, we didn’t get to talk at all since Poland—”
“Jon, you can’t be serious right now.” She crossed her arms and cocked her head. “Papa is waiting for me outside, we’re going to lunch with Peter to celebrate. I doubt we’ll talk again before Christmas.”
“What about Thanksgiving?”
“We’re going to his cabin. I told you that months ago.”
Oh. I guess I didn’t remember. Or maybe I hadn’t listened, I wasn’t sure.
She sighed and glanced back at the doors. “Look, I have to go. Congrats on managing to keep the New York apartment, I’m sure Patrick helped with that one.”
I made to reply but she turned on her heel and bee-lined for the doors. Watching them shut behind her felt like the final chapter of us closing, and while I had expected to feel a loss, I wasn’t expecting to feel the relief. Chrissy had someone else now, another man that could give her everything she wanted and I didn’t have to contort myself to fit that mold anymore. Goodbye, Chrissy, thank you. She was the reason I had amassed a fortune, had met Pat and Lydia, and the person that supported me through everything in the past two decades; I had a lot to thank her for.
“You’re going to love my dad, and I know he’s going to love you too.”
“You don’t know that,” I countered, feeling my stomach lurch as we climbed the steps to her parent’s home. “Chrissy, your dad is a member of the most exclusive clubs in this city – I heard rumours that he works with the Gambino’s. There is no way he’s going to like me.”
She rolled her eyes at me and pushed the door open. The upscale New York town home had a cavernous entry way with a spiralling staircase that seemed to go on forever. All I could think about was how my body would look dirtying up the white-marble floors when I suddenly keeled over. I tightened my grip on her waist and she giggled and rubbed my shoulder reassuringly.
“You’re so cute,” she teased, brushing my hair away from my ear. “If you make it through dinner without fucking up, I’ll show you my room.” Her voice was low and sultry, her hand pulled mine to the back of her dress; urging me to slip under it to feel her bare ass.
Suddenly my pants felt too tight and I was cursing her for getting me into this. But at the same time, I just wanted to push her skirt up completely and see how far she’d let me go right here in the foyer.
“Oh, papa!” she cried, running over the giant man in the doorway.
Fuck man, are you related to Arnold Schwarzenegger? I fucked with plenty of girls that had scary dad’s, they didn’t bother me, but this one had a reputation, and if he really was with the Gambino’s, I didn’t want to find out.
“Papa, this is Jonny,” Chrissy said, leading her father over to me.
I couldn’t help my self-satisfied smirk as I shook his hand. She was calling me Daddy an hour ago, old man. “Hi there, Mr. Bower, I’m Jonathan.”
“Jonathan,” he mused, narrowing his eyes at me. “Chrissy tells me you’re studying law.”
“Pre-law, I start my LL.M with Yale next year.”
He whistled in surprise. “Not your J.D.?”
“No, I know what I want to study in already; corporate law.” Really, I liked criminal law, but from what I had seen people would crucify you for taking on controversial clients as a defence lawyer. At least in corporate law I wouldn’t be as public for taking whatever paid well. And, well, Chrissy’s dad owned a corporate law office; it wouldn’t hurt to kiss up to a guy that might give me a job.
“Aren’t you a little young for that though? I figured you’d be another two years out.”
I laughed and slipped my hands in my pockets. “I graduated high school early, and I’ve been taking extra credit hours so that I’ll graduate in three years instead of four.”
His eyebrows shot up. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen, sir.” These guys liked that authority bit sprinkled in, made me look less threatening to them.
He laughed and clapped his hand on my shoulder. “You finally brought home a smart one, Chrissy. Come on, let me get you a drink.”
I glanced at her over my shoulder and winked, she grinned and wiggled her fingers in a little wave as he ushered me into his office. Oh, I was definitely getting to see her bedroom after that. Maybe she would tie me to the bed again…
I waited a while before leaving the courthouse, not wanting to run into her father or Peter on the way out. A harsh wind swept down the street, bringing a dusting of leaves and grime. I pulled my windbreaker tight and made my way down to the Pullman. The driver was lounging against the hood playing on his phone; I tapped the roof twice and pulled open my door, he rushed to get himself in the driver’s seat and lowered the partition.
“Home, Mr. Harris?”
“Yes, thank you, Neil.”
He nodded in the mirror and put the divider back up. The car always felt a little lonely and I couldn’t help but wish that Lydia was sitting beside me again, going home together for dinner then getting to drag her into the playroom. We needed to take a trip to Plaisir sometime soon for fun, maybe she’d even stop by my office when I go to clear it out. The mental image of her bent over the dark oak surface made me pull out my phone. It was noon here, which meant it was about five or six in the morning in Krakow – they should be getting ready to get on the plane soon.
The line rang only twice before Lydia answered. “Hi! How’s your day?”
I chuckled and shifted in my seat. “Better now, how’s yours?”
“Good, our flights delayed so we’re just waiting for that right now.”
“And Patrick?”
“Um…” Lydia paused and I could hear her sigh faintly. “He’s not really reacting at all, since the funeral he’s sort of behaving like nothing happened. I gotta admit, I’m a little worried…”
“Has he been drinking at all?” I wanted to kick myself as soon as the words left my mouth; I didn’t want to bring this issue back to the table, not when Lydia was about to get on a long ass flight with him and no one else to talk to.
There was a sharp intake of breath and suddenly the line went staticky. “Lydia? Can you hear me? Hello?”
“Sorry—” her voice came through jumbled and I struggled to hear her. “—me now?”
“Yes, sorry I thought we got disconnected.”
“No, you just gave me a mild heart-attack, no biggie.” She laughed when she said it, a cute breathy laugh that told me she had calmed herself down.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the window. No biggie. She was so cute, how was I supposed to measure up to that? “I didn’t mean to, dove, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, and no, he hasn’t drank anything since I’ve been with him the whole time,” she said, easily hand-waving my mistake. “Can you do me a favour though?”
Anything for you. “Sure, what do you need?”
“Can you stop at my apartment and grab my mail? It’s important.”
I put the divider down and gave the directions to my driver, not caring that it added an extra thirty minutes to my commute. “Done, anything else?”
“No snooping through my mail,” she warned. “The credit card is one thing but my mail is completely different.”
I scoffed. Did she really think I would do that? “Have some faith in me, dove; I’m not that invasive.”
“Thank you, and Jon?”
“Hm?”
“I love you, Daddy, I’ll see you soon.”
I smiled at that and relaxed further in my seat. “I love you too, baby girl. Travel safe.”
She blew a kiss to the receiver and I did it back, blushing at the absurdity of it but not hesitating at all. I thought of the ring that Patrick travelled with and suppressed the ache in my chest. One day they would be married, no if ands or buts about it – it would happen. And I knew we wouldn’t have to stop our fun, but there was no denying that there was a finality to her marrying him that made me feel left out. Now wasn’t the time to talk to Patrick about it though; I couldn’t bombard him with it while he was going through the motions of his dad’s death and fresh from the funeral.
With a groan, I pulled my tie off and went back to leaning against the window, just attempting to zone out while we made our way to Queens. When I glanced out the window again the car was pulling down 75th, a street through Kew Gardens. It was a borderline community, an area that was desperately trying to elevate itself from low-class to middle. I used to come down here when I was in high school; sneaking out to party with the kids my parents wanted to distance us from. It’s like stepping into the past. Not a single thing about the neighbourhood was different in twenty-years; the road was shit, cars were double parked, porches were packed with junk like old furniture or garbage, and people eyed the car suspiciously from their front yards.
Lydia’s building was a two-storey redbrick walk-up, with maybe two-dozen units in total. Neil pulled up right in front of the lobby and I jumped out, taking my keys out of my pocket as I went and trying to remember what unit she was in. A few tried later and I got the right box; it was full. Completely fucking full of junk mail, small packages, and two large envelopes that looked important. I tossed the junk mail and brought the rest to the car but one thing caught my attention when I set everything on the seat beside me; the two envelopes were from a publisher that the firm had worked with once upon a time. What are those about?
Lydia had been talking about her blog a lot, and working on it just as often, but she hadn’t expressed interest in publishing anything. At least, not that she told us. I pinched the bridge of my nose and turned the mail over, trying to force myself just to pretend it didn’t exist. She wouldn’t write anything official without asking us first, I told myself, she’s just not that kind of person. But why hadn’t she mentioned it at all? God she could give me a migraine like no other. Suddenly my phone buzzed and I groaned, speaking of migraines.
1:02 PM Mari
Are you coming home soon? If not, I might go out with mama and Peter.
No way. Custody battles were only supposed to happen when your kids were underage, but here I was already fighting to keep my pre-planned time with Maritza.
1:03 PM Me
I’m almost home.
I put down the divider again and told Neil to get me the fuck home. I needed to know that she didn’t hate me for this divorce, that she didn’t think I was at fault for it. Somehow, I already knew what the answer would be when I got home.
I managed to get back in record time, thanks to my driver not giving a shit, and practically ran for the elevators, willing Mari to still be waiting for me in the living room. The edge of the lift tripped me up and I yelped in surprise, still fumbling to get my keys out. Come on!
“Dad?”
My head jerked up and I realized Maritza had opened the door and was now looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Hi, punky,” I greeted with a laugh. “I was worried you left already…”
“Nope, just heard you scream from the other room you weirdo.”
I stopped trying to juggle a million things at once and pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you for being here.”
“It’s fine, I’m glad I finally get to see you after you bailed.”
Her words cut to the quick, I nodded despite the hurt and continued on inside with her. I left Lydia’s mail on the foyer table for her, I figured that would be something she would go looking for right away. Maritza waited for me in the living room and I tossed my jacket on the arm chair as I went to join her on the sofa.
“Alright, you have my full attention; I’m not going anywhere, I’m not leaving for any reason whatsoever, and Kathleen is here tonight so we can have whatever you want to eat.”
Mari smiled and reached out to pat my hand. “I already asked her to put dinner on.”
She didn’t elaborate on what it was but I knew she was on a vegetarian kick again so I already knew what I was in for. Her style had changed recently too; going more from 80s grunge rock to a modern hippie-rock that was all about alternative meeting ethical. How do two preps make an alternative kid? I’d never know how I managed to raise her to be that way, but I was thankful for her inclination to fight the man, even if I had been one of them through most of her life.
“Well,” I said finally. “It’s done, I never thought the day would come, but here we are.”
She nodded and looked away. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”
A pocket of tension grew between us until I cleared my throat loudly. “Mari, I know this was hard on everyone, but it’s for the best. We just wanted to give you a stable home while you were growing up.”
“You know, mama always said it wasn’t true; that you were lying when you told me you guys were separated. I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Well it was true,” I replied flatly. “I’m not going to talk about it over and over again, especially when you and I have already had this conversation, but I’m just glad it was over and it wasn’t dragged out.” Too dragged out. Christine had certainly dug her heels in at the beginning.
“You’re not going to marry her, are you?”
“Lydia?”
Mari scoffed. “No, some other assistant,” she snapped.
I rolled my eyes. “No, I didn’t plan on it.”
“Did you guys break up?”
I could hear the hope in her voice. “Again, no. Lydia is in Poland with Patrick and she’s on her way back here, we’re not breaking up.”
“You know that if you’re having troubles with her again, no one would blame you for leaving—”
“Maritza,” I snapped. “Stop, right now. What is this really about?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled, turning away from me.
I huffed in annoyance. “I know something’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then what’s going on and why are you acting like this suddenly?”
“I started seeing someone and I just wished it could be normal, okay?” she asked, glaring at me. “Like, why can’t you be normal and date someone your age?”
“Why is who I’m dating affecting your dating life?”
“Because it’s her friend…”
Her? “Lydia’s friend?” I asked, shocked. She couldn’t really mean Allie, Lydia must have had other friends.
“Yes, Lydia’s friend Allison.”
Someone just please take me out to pasture, I’m done with this.