Knowing His Secret (9 page)

I managed to hit the Upper West Side
by seven-thirty thanks to my early start. I avoided the worst of rush hour and was home by just a little after eight. I got the Eep squeezed into a parking spot in front of the Caperelli's house and walked the few yards to our stoop. Mom was waiting at our open door.

It was so g
reat to hug my strong, beautiful mother. After the emotional upheaval of the past few weeks, I found her more comforting than ever. My parents are solid and everlasting--a constant reminder of goodness and love in the world. They are not complicated or mysterious; they're the kind of blessing every child should know. I embraced my mother with gratitude just as I always did when I returned home from time in the Berkshires.

Mom and Dad had always understood that Jenn and I worked the Berkshires because it was a good way to make great pay in a pretty setting not too far from home. New York City is not a place with abundant summer jobs. The Berkshire Hills
offered us jobs in the arts and recreation that we couldn't match anywhere else. But we were always aware that the area belonged to people like Suze and Nicky, Brian and Cole, and yes, Tristan. It was always a good thing to come home to a place where we didn't feel like strangers.

Mom and I had a cup of coffee on the stoop and watched the neighborhood bustle alive with kids on their way to school, people scurrying off to work and shop. Mrs. Caperelli came over with a coffee cake from the bakery and we went inside to share it. Mom gave her an update on Dad. He'd called at seven to complain about being cooped up in a hospital and to tell her that the nurses were all angels. He said the meals weren't as bad as people always say they are, but to bring an Italian sub from Delmonico's Deli when she came.
Mrs. C would make sure the report was properly 'distributed' through the neighborhood.

My Dad was sitting up in bed watching the news when we got to his room.

"Daddy!" I hugged him gently, trying not to move him too much. He had his left arm in a sling and I could see the bandages around his rib cage. There was a cut above his right eye held together with stitches. I hated to see him like that.

"What are you doing here, Angelcakes? Marjorie, I'm fine. Why did you call Raina?"

"Mom called to keep me from worrying when I saw you getting beat up on the news. She didn't ask me to come, in fact she told me not to. But I wanted to be here."

"Well you're a sweetheart and I'm always glad to have my little girl home."

"I wish it was different circumstances. Dad, you need to stay out of these messes. You're getting older…" It frightened me to think of how many close calls he'd had over the years.

At that he
laughed harder that he should have until his ribcage stopped him. But he was still grinning when he threatened to put me over his knee and show me just how old and weak he was.

"Daddy, you've never laid a hand on me, so I would have nothing to compare it to."

We talked most of the morning away and shared the Italian sub plus his hospital lunch among the three of us. He was right, the hospital lunch wasn't half bad. After lunch, I left them to nap a little--he in his bed and she in the recliner next to it. I watched them doze off together just as they did most Saturdays and Sundays after lunch.

I wondered if Tristan would ever get to that point with…well, with anyone. Did he and Elsa take a half-time nap during Sunday football like my sister Amy and her husband Phil? Or did he and Elsa nod off poolside after a two-Mimosa brunch like Olivia and Ben?

Try as I might, I couldn't stop wishing that somehow, some way I would take a cozy nap beside Tristan someday. I knew there'd be more sex. I knew I hadn't begun to experience the kinds of intimate pleasures his body could bring to mine. He would fuck me, suck me, take me this way and that. And it thrilled me to think of it, it really did. But at that moment, in that hospital room, the intimacy I really longed for was dozing beside him in the quiet peace of of a lazy afternoon.

***

I took a walk around a nearby park and let my parents rest. I took out my tablet reader and thumbed through a couple of magazines. I watched young parents strolling their children along the walkways, people taking their dogs out for a mid-afternoon pee and vendors wrapping up their lunchtime shift. They rolled their carts with hot dogs, pretzels and sodas toward wherever it is that food carts go to sleep at night.

I went back to the hospital and spent another hour or so with Dad and then Mom and I called it a day. I was tired from the early start that morning. I had acclimated myself to late nights and sleeping in. Getting up at dawn, combined with my worry about my parents had worn me out.

Mom and I picked up take-out Chinese and I was sound asleep in my room by eight-thirty.

"Raina, Jenn's on the phone." My mother called me downstairs the next morning and handed me her phone.

"Hey Jenn, why are you calling on Mom's phone?"

"Raina, I have been trying to call you since about ten last night!" Jenn sounded frazzled and frustrated.

I went over to my purse where my forgotten phone, now dead, lay at the bottom. "Sorry Jenn, I was so tired I left my phone in my purse and it went dead. I don't even think I brought the charger. Damn."

"Raina, Tristan King showed up here last night. He said he had been phoning the number Tom gave him all through rehearsal. He seemed kinda frantic. He wanted to know how to find you and thought maybe I had another phone number."

"You could have given him Mom's number." Tristan…frantic because he couldn't get in touch with me? Yessss!

"I didn't know if that would be okay, so I told him I would get in touch with you myself through your Mom's phone this morning. I told him I had talked to you earlier and that everything seemed
fine."

"If you don't mind, go ahead and call him and give him Mom's phone."

"Sure thing, Rains. How's your Dad?"

"Beat up, but fine. He's too tough to let a few thugs get him down."

"Keep me posted. I've gotta go to work now. I'll call Tristan right after I get off the phone."

"Thanks, Jenn. Talk to you soon."

Not two minutes later, Mom's phone rang again. She handed it to me.

"Raina," I heard Tristan say in a very serious sounding voice. "Tell me what's going on. Tom only mentioned you had a family emergency. I wish you had thought to call me."

"I didn't think I should involve you. I didn't want to assume…
expect
anything."

"We'll talk about how wrong you are to throw that at me later. Please fill me in."

I walked out of earshot of Mom and told him everything. About Dad and the unions, about the threats, the bricks and my father's continued defiance of men far more powerful and ruthless than he would ever be. I told him because I wanted someone to lean on. I wanted to know that someone as powerful as Tristan was on my side. He didn't disappoint me.

By ten in the morning, Tristan was having coffee with Mom and I
.  He'd taken a helicopter from the Hills. Kwan came with him and was sitting outside on the stoop with a newspaper. He was doing his best to appear casual.

My mother was smitten by Tristan's movie-star good looks as I knew she would be. The charm he turned on full blast for Marjorie Harding didn't hurt, either. The sharp-edged side of Tristan that I had glimpsed more than once was utterly missing from the solicitous, gentle persona he showed to my mother. He drew a lot more information out of her than I had ever been able to. I was surprised at just how serious the situation had become in the four years I had been an occasional presence in my parent's house.

"Mrs. Harding, before I arrived, I had my research team get as much background as they could on the thugs who attacked your husband. They aren't just ordinary working men looking for a fair shake. These men are dangerous and your situation is serious."

"Tristan, you're scaring Mom." I was alarmed at how pale my mother had become as she listened to hm.

"There's every reason
for
her to be scared. And you, too." He turned back to my mother. "I've taken the liberty of getting you and Raina a couple of rooms at a hotel for at least for the night. I'm going to need some time to properly address your situation at the right levels."

"Is that really necessary?" Mom wasn't used to anyone simply stepping in and taking control. She and Dad had a pretty democratic relationship.

"I'm sorry if it sounds like I am an alarmist, but why take the chance? The fact that I had no trouble persuading the police chief to station a guard outside Mr. Harding's room leads me to believe I'm more right than wrong about the situation."

Mom looked like she was about to cry. I took her hand. "Mom, try not to worry. Dad's going to be just fine. Maybe with Tristan's help we can stop this once and for all."

She sniffed her agreement. "I can't thank you enough, Tristan. I'll just go up and throw a few things in a bag and I'll be ready to go." She hesitated at the foot of the stairs. "Do you think we could at least stop by and see Don before we go to the hotel?"

"Of course.
" Tristan came over to me and gathered me in his arms. "Jesus, Raina."

"Thanks for coming, Tristan. I didn't realize the situation had gotten this bad. You know, I've been away most of the last four years."

"I know. Right now I have to go and meet some people. There's a lot more to this than a couple of roughnecks angling for a brawl. I intend to get to the bottom of it."

"Don't put yourself at risk, too." I didn't like the thought of Tristan ruffling other powerful feathers.

"There are risks getting out of bed in the morning." He ruffled my hair. "Kwan will see you settled in and he'll…be around. Try to enjoy the hotel." And with that he was out the door.

Nine

We were hidden in plain sight. The night at in Brian's loft, Tristan had offered me "any experience you ever imagined and wanted to try". Without knowing it, he had chosen something I'd longed to do for as long as I could remember--stay at The Plaza.

Mom and I were whisked through the lobby and up to an unimaginably lush suite looking out over Central Park.
There were two bedrooms--one upstairs and one down, a dining room, living room, butler's pantry and three bathrooms. It was as big as my parent's house in Park Slope and a lot prettier. My mother was speechless. By now it was nearly lunch time. The events of the morning had given me a huge appetite and I suggested to Mom that we go find somewhere to eat.

"Or, would you rather eat in the room?" I looked at the ornate dining set and giggled. "I'd almost be afraid to eat at that table."

Mom got up to answer a knock at the door. The floor butler who had escorted us from the elevator to our suite had a rolling cart with several serving platters covered with silver domes.

"Mr. King thought you might be hungry. He sent this selection for you."

"He certainly thinks of everything, doesn't he?" asked my mother.

I didn't answer her. I was too busy salivating over the array of goodies the butler was putting on the dining table. There must have been twenty-five different items. Little bowls of different salads, cheeses, cold meats, olives, flatbreads and rolls were all laid out in perfect presentation. We sat down to a feast complete with some crisp and fruity white wine that seemed to go with every bite.

My mother isn't speechless often and when she is it doesn't last long. I knew I'd face the twenty questions sooner or later.

"How did you meet Tristan?" "Have you known him long?" "What does he do?" (
Always
a personal favorite of mine.) "Where is he from?" And the ultimate, ever uncomfortable, never truly answerable, "Is it serious?"

"No it isn'
t serious, Mom. He's got issues…I'd rather not get into it."

"Like what?"

"Did you not just hear what I said? Tristan has set some very clear limits on what kind of 'relationship' he will and won't have."

"Oh? Don't you get a say in it?"

"Not if I want to continue to see him."

"I see."

"I'm glad
you
see because I am utterly confused."

"Well he seems a very nice young man. He's successful, handsome and obviously," she swept her hand around the room, "cares a great deal about your well-being."

"Mother, I'm not sure Tristan is capable of caring in the way you and I would define it. But, yes, he has been very kind and generous. He's gone out of his way to take control of our problem."

"Do I detect a note of uncertainty?"

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the way he swept into our circumstance and made it his."

"I think you should be flattered. A lot of men would have wanted nothing to do with it. And Raina?"

"Yeah, Mom?"

"There are still some men left in the world who aren't all about expressing their every feeling. You young girls want to turn all your men into females in male bodies. There's something left to be said for men who aren't as 'sensitive' as women seem to demand today."