Underestimated Too (11 page)

“Because you didn’t force her to do it.”

“Maybe, but the fact still remains, I was falling
for you for a very long time. You can’t tell me you didn’t know that. We had
moments, you know we did. What about Callaway’s birthday? Remember that night,
Morgan?”

I smiled, remembering the night he was speaking of.
“We both got drunk that night. We were dancing and making out on the floor in
front of everyone. We made love in the driveway before we ever made it in the
house, and then again in your bed. You held me in your arms that night and
kissed me more than you ever had before.”

“We made love in the car because you boldly raised
your dress and straddled me in the front seat. That was the first and only time
I remember you ever taking the control.”

“You have a hard time handing over control.”

“I do. Please don’t ever think Skyler could come
close to the way I feel about you. I have been over her for a very long time.”

“Was that the last time you were with her?”

“No, I was with her on and off for quite some time
and then after you left me for a bit. Not long, it wasn’t the same as it was
before. I didn’t love her at all. I wanted you.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch all day.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll be a bitch when you start
talking about that low life Dawson.”

“I’m sure of that too, but in Dawson’s defense. He
was never anything but good to me.”

“Yeah, he was fucking your best friend on the side.
He was quite loyal to you.”

“Shut up. You don’t know anything about that. He
spent months alone with her, looking for me. I’m sure he fought it as much as
she did.”

“Yeah, come on let’s get out of the tub. I have to
punish you for being a bitch all day.”

“That might make me be a bitch tomorrow too,” I
warned with a teasing smile.

“Then I will have to punish you tomorrow too. You
have to go meet that auctioneer at Callaway’s tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know. Are you keeping little man?”

“Yes, but I’m serious about hiring someone.”

“Okay, but I just want Marta back. I don’t trust
anyone else.”

“You know I can see everything that goes on in this
house. If I don’t like the way she is with my son, she won’t be here for long.”

***

I didn’t like any of the nannies that came for an
interview. They didn’t act like Marta at all. They were serious, there to do a
job. Marta didn’t mind sitting on the floor, playing with my little guy. She
loved him. These girls didn’t.

“You seriously don’t like any of them?” Drew asked
after the last one had left.

I turned Nicholas to face me. “No, we didn’t, did
we, Nicky? Nicky says no. Sorry,” I teased being a smart ass, bouncing Nicholas
up and down on my lap.

“You’re impossible sometimes. You do know that,
don’t you?”

I spent the next two Thursdays learning more about
the relationship my husband had with Skyler and trying not to be mad about it.
I had no right to be upset over that. I hated him then, most of the time,
anyway. I tried my best to keep my mouth shut and only listen to Drew as he described
parts of his life I’d never known about, some, I didn’t want to know.

Drew took his position by the window, getting lost
in his story. I wasn’t even sure he was aware that Deidra and I were even there
this time. He was so engrossed in the details. I even pulled my feet underneath
me, absorbed in his life like a good book. That’s what it felt like, like I was
reading a really intense book while Drew described the death of my father.

Drew relayed his story calmly as always, “Randal sat
beside me, looking to my mother. She stood over his coffin, sobbing
uncontrollably. I didn’t understand it. How could she not be throwing a party,
exultant over his death? I was. That bastard deserved the suffering that he had
endured over the past few months.

‘I’m fine,’ I stated, looking over to Mr. Callaway.
I remember him rubbing my shoulder with his hand. I wanted to shove it away. What
was I supposed to say? Your son was a fucking bastard; he deserved everything
he went through. It wasn’t necessary. Michael was dead. That was the important
thing. He would never lay a finger on my mother or me again. I would never feel
like a piece of shit because I couldn’t protect her again. I’d happily spend
the fucker’s money for the rest of my life, taking care of both the women that
I loved. Smiling over to my beautiful Skyler, she smiled back.”

My beautiful Skyler? Fuck your beautiful
Skyler
, I thought, fuming.

“I wanted to go to her, stand by her, and accept
support from her rather than Mr. Callaway. I couldn’t. Mr. Callaway wouldn’t
hear of it. Mr. Callaway couldn’t stand her mother and would insist that I
didn’t spend one penny of his or Michael’s money on her. I would. I didn’t care
about either of their fucked up orders. I loved her and would spend the rest of
my life taking care of her. Or so I thought.” Drew smiled, turning to look at
me.

I smiled a warm smile back, urging him to continue.

He did. He turned back to face the dirty alley and
continued, “It was killing me to see my mother so hurt, so distraught and
acting like a crazy person. Smiling over to Mr. Callaway, I got up and made my
way to my mother, dropping to the ground on her knees as the coffin was being
lowered, and Michael Callaway was being laid to rest, soon to rot in the ground
where he belonged.”

 
I got a cold chill thinking about Drew’s mom,
throwing herself to the ground as she said goodbye to the man who she probably
shouldn’t have loved. I wondered about her. She and I had a lot in common.

“Michael’s cancer doctor and friend gave my mother a
couple Valium once we were in the backseat of the limo. By the time we made it
back to the mansion she was comatose, staring blankly into space. A nurse was
ordered by Mr. Callaway to stay with her through the night. I didn’t want to be
there. I wanted to go back to the city, to my own apartment where I’d left
Skyler, open up a bottle of something one hundred proof in alcohol and get very
intoxicated. I, however, didn’t leave her. I stayed, knowing she needed me. I
hated the mansion that would be left to me when my mother died at a ripe old
age. There were just too many memories that I wanted to forget. I’d probably
never live there again. Hell, I wanted to burn the place to the ground,” Drew
said, resentment lacing his tone.

Drew hated the mansion? Why hadn’t I
seen this? We needed to move from there. Maybe that would help him forget
Michael and things that had gone on there that I was sure I didn’t even know
the half of.  

“I asked the nurse to leave us once she had my
mother in her fancy satin night clothes snuggled in bed. The nurse smiled,
nodded, and left me alone with my mother. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I
placed my mother’s frail hand in mine. ‘You know how much I love you, right?’

My mother smiled up at me.

‘Yes, mom. It’ll be okay. We’ll be fine,’ I reassured
her.

‘Andrew, listen to Mr. Callaway, learn from him.’

I frowned, wondering if she’d been given too much Valium.

‘I mean it, Andrew. This will all be yours. Mr.
Callaway will leave it all to you. I’m sure of it. Learn from him, learn to run
this company even better than Michael did.’

‘Mom, Michael has been teaching me to run this
company since I was ten. I’m not worried about that, and this will all be yours
before it’s mine. I’m okay with that. You’re going to get through this and find
a man that loves and respects you.’

She was right quick to stand up for him, she always
was. I’d never understand it. ‘Michael did love me,’ she protested with a stern
voice.

I weakly smiled down at her, feeling pity. ‘You get
some rest,’ I coaxed, not wanting to get into how Michael loved her. It was
pointless, and I would never understand it. I opened the door to Michael’s
office and stood there, staring at the dark mahogany desk as memories flooded
my mind. I stood there thinking about being ten. It was my first summer living
there. I had burst into the office, excited to tell Michael about the stupid
infomercial I’d been watching. He could buy diamond rings for a cheap price and
sell them in his stores for more. I know now how dumb that was, but at ten, I
thought it would be a great arrangement. I froze when I saw the belt in his
hand and my mother lying naked over his desk.”

Oh, my god. Michael treated Drew’s
mother the way he treated me. This was making more and more sense by the minute.

“Michael screamed for me to get out. I’ll never
forget the look on my mother’s face as I stood there contemplating what I
should do.  Her expression held something between shame and humiliation as she
too told me to leave the office, yet she was upstairs crying her eyes out because
he was gone.” Drew shook his head like he was still trying to understand his
mother. He turned and asked Deidra for a drink.

She filled his glass and left the bottle beside him
on the windowsill.

He filled his glass often and I knew I’d be driving
home. I kept quiet and listened, only speaking to myself, here and there.

Drew continued, “I walked to Michael’s liquor
cabinet, not understanding how she could be so disturbed over his passing. Pouring
a full glass of vodka, I sat in his leather chair, propped my feet on his desk
and toasted the portrait of him and my mother hanging on the other side of the
room.”

Portrait? I’ve never seen that portrait.
I had never seen a picture at all until the day I saw it on her headstone.

“I boasted to the cold hearted bastard staring back
at me in the portrait, ‘Here’s to you, you fuck face. I hope the maggots are
eating your eyes out.’ Then I answered a call from Mr. Callaway. He asked how
my mother was doing, like he gave a shit. ‘She’s holding her own,’ I told him.

‘Good, good, she’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Can you
come by my office tomorrow? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,’
Callaway informed me.

‘Yeah, sure,’ I replied, not really wanting to dive
into Callaway Jewels right away. Couldn’t I have a couple of days to mourn the
death of his fucked up son? Although I didn’t think Mr. Callaway was anywhere
near the ass that his son was, he still wasn’t my favorite person to be around.
Power, that’s all the Callaway’s cared about, the more the better. Mr. Callaway
demanded respect, and he got it. Everyone within twenty feet bowed down to the
old fucker, including me.

I called Skyler after talking to Randal.

‘Hi, are you okay?’ Skyler asked, picking up on the
first ring.

‘Yeah, I’m okay. I wish I could be there with you,’
I honestly told her.

‘You will be. Take care of your mother first.’
Skyler offered.  That was pretty messed up too. Skyler didn’t give a shit about
my mother. She never did,” Drew said, turning to look at me again.

I didn’t reply. I got
the look
from Deidra
again.

 “I told Skyler I’ll be there tomorrow. I needed to
get out of that house. I hated that fucking place.

‘I love that house. I was hoping we’d live in it,
you know, if your mom decides not to live in the house,’ was Skyler’s reaction.

Stunned by her answer, I asked her, ‘Why would my
mother not live here?’

Skyler hesitantly replied, ‘I don’t know. I just
meant, like the memories and all. I’m not sure I could live there after my
husband died.’

I assured her he wasn’t her husband. She didn’t know
shit about anything. If she did, I was sure she too would have been running for
the hills as far away from me as she could get.

‘Don’t get mad at me. I’m sorry. I’m just saying, I
love that house, and we could do a lot with it after we’re married. I’m glad
Michael is gone,’ Skyler confessed.”

You will never touch MY house, you slimy
little slut.

Telling every aspect, Drew kept talking, “I told Sky
I would talk to her tomorrow. I was kind of tired.

‘Okay, I love you, Drew,’ she said.

‘Love you too,’ I mumbled and hung up.”

 
“Really, Drew? You can
leave some stuff out,” I chimed in.

“Morgan,” Deidra chastised.

“Well, it’s the truth. He doesn’t have to mention
the two of them saying how much they’re in love,” I complained.

“Morgan, I loved her this much,” Drew said, holding
his thumb and finger a quarter inch apart. “I love you to the moon and back.”

“Can we continue now?” Deidra asked, giving me a
look to shut the hell up. I crossed my arms and leaned back, waiting to hear
more of how much my husband loved Skyler. I couldn’t wait. 

Drew carried on, “I woke with a headache from hell,
slumped in the office chair. Rubbing my face and eyes, I called, ‘Come in,’ when
I heard the tap on the door. The nurse came into view and told me my mother was
sleeping, she was heading out, and to call her when she was needed. ‘I will. Thank
you for staying with her.’ I nodded, dismissing her. Flipping on the desk
computer, I clicked the camera button, studying the empty rooms in the house.
One by one I added them to the screen, starting with the kitchen, the living
area, the den, and then Michael’s room. He never did share a room with my
mother. She had her own living quarters upstairs and he only visited when he
needed her.”