4.22 The Good Son
Emily
I breathed a sigh of relief when Chris Heffner left our house. I'd be lying if I said I was completely immune to his charms. He looked even more handsome in person than in pictures. Too serious for his age though. I could see why young girls were so attracted to him. The constant attention of media must have taught him to control his expression and weigh his words which made him seem quiet and thoughtful. Those dark eyes and occasional melancholic smiles tempted you to solve the enigma he posed. It wasn't his looks only what made him so attractive. He always gave you his whole attention when you talked to him, making you feel like the center of his universe, like you mattered. When Ron spoke to me, he was seldom looking directly at me. It often felt as if he's talking to the room in which I accidentaly happened to find myself as well.
It would be so easy to see Chris Heffner as the perfect knight who arrives in time to save me from the prison of my marriage. It would be so easy to believe his promises, to rediscover hope. But I knew better than to fall in this trap again.
I nearly jumped when Ron spoke at me. "So what do you think of the famous Newcrest heir, Emily?" he asked. "Do you find him attractive?"
I breathed a sigh of relief when Chris Heffner left our house. I'd be lying if I said I was completely immune to his charms. He looked even more handsome in person than in pictures. Too serious for his age though. I could see why young girls were so attracted to him. The constant attention of media must have taught him to control his expression and weigh his words which made him seem quiet and thoughtful. Those dark eyes and occasional melancholic smiles tempted you to solve the enigma he posed. It wasn't his looks only what made him so attractive. He always gave you his whole attention when you talked to him, making you feel like the center of his universe, like you mattered. When Ron spoke to me, he was seldom looking directly at me. It often felt as if he's talking to the room in which I accidentaly happened to find myself as well.
It would be so easy to see Chris Heffner as the perfect knight who arrives in time to save me from the prison of my marriage. It would be so easy to believe his promises, to rediscover hope. But I knew better than to fall in this trap again.
I nearly jumped when Ron spoke at me. "So what do you think of the famous Newcrest heir, Emily?" he asked. "Do you find him attractive?"
Careful, Emily. He will know if you aren't telling the truth. "He is handsome, for sure, but also very young and impulsive."
I emphasized Chris' age on purpose. I wanted to remind Ron of what I told him once - that I preferred older and reliable men. My answer seemed to have pleased him, because he chuckled.
"He watched you all evening, drooling almost, little bastard. You must have noticed it too if you're not completely blind. Did you enjoy his attention, Emily?"
"I found it very uncomfortable," I said. It wasn't a complete true, but half truths were easier for me to make believable than full lies. Chris wasn't very subtle during the dinner and him staring longingly at me did make me nervous, but what I didn't tell Ron was that it also stirred something within me. Deep inside I was still a sentimental woman who loved all things romantic and enjoyed the fact that she's still able to take a man's breath away.
"I know exactly what he'd like to do with you, but he wouldn't dare. Finally there's something the spoiled brat can't have."
My husband sounded particularly pleased with the fact. I knew the young man's popularity was a thorn in his side. He believed someone so young, who hasn't accomplished anything, except for being born in the Founder's family, shouldn't be idolized and publicized so much. From time to time he uttered a sarcastic remark about Chris when he made the headlines.
"You did well tonight, Emily," he said all of a sudden. I've safely made it out of an imaginary mine field then. "Good job coaxing the secret about the gym out of him too. I think I may bring Ann for this weekend. What do you think?"
I gasped. Tears welled up in my eyes. "Yes, please! Thank you, Ron!" And just like that he was pulling at my strings again rendering all my other thoughts incoherrent. I'm going to see my daughter again! For a whole weekend!
"If only Ann was closer to the Heffner's age," he added. "I would find a way how to make him marry her. Watcher knows we need some insight into what is happening in the house of theirs."
"But Ron, surely you wouldn't want an arranged marriage for our daughter. She should marry someone she loves one day."
"What has love got to do with marriage?"
"Nothing," I said quietly. No way I was going to risk Ron changing his mind about the weekend. Annie's still a child. Anything can happen before she's old enough to marry. And if Ron still thinks he can force her into a loveless marriage then, I swear I will poison him!
* * * * *
Several days later
Chris
Slamming of the house door and loud thud of a pair of feet on the stairs woke me up. I opened my eyes. It was still dark outside, but a warm glow at the horizon began to spread. A new day was upon us. I didn't mind spending nights here anymore, even though I still had nightmares every now and then. I made it clear to Raven I wouldn't discuss them with her.
I squinted when Raven turned the light on unscrupulously. First I could only see her blurry form, but from her posture with arms akimbo I could already tell she's pissed about something again. I yawned and rubbed my eyes slowly. I didn't hurry to see her fuming face more clearly. I was getting tired of it. What is it now?
"I still can't believe it!" she spat. How could you?" She tossed a newspaper on the bed.
How could I what? The newspaper suggested this was about her damn work again. I picked it up with annoyance and looked at the headlines. I froze for a moment. How did this get out?
Raven was glaring at me accusingly. "Out of all people why does it have to be Brad Scott who gets to write about Newcrest heir's project first, while I'm sleeping with the said one? It's a joke! Fucking Brad "The Shark" Scott! The same Brad Scott you happen to know I hate so much!"
I ignored Raven's raging and focused on the newspaper. Seeing my pictures in the papers always felt surreal, as if the person on them was some stranger who happened to look just like me. This time they picked a photo in which I looked like an arrogant prick. I winced internally. I took a deep breath and I started reading. My stomach knotted before I finished. "They don't like the idea of the gym..."
"Because you're an idiot, Chris. If you allowed me to write about your project, I would have done my best to win people for the idea. But no, I had to keep my mouth shut and now Brad skims off the cream. Who did you tell, Chris?"
"I may have mentioned it at the dinner with chief," I breathed still in shock that people didn't welcome the prospect of a brand new modern gym to be built in Newcrest.
"Of course you did! I told you to be careful what you say in front of the chief."
She paused and for a brief moment I dared to hope she changed her mind and decided to give me a silent treatment. But this was Raven. Always analyzing, suspicious and very vocal, which could be a blessing and a curse at the same time. Her expression changed. It was a stony mask now. Her sudden sharp intake of breath sounded too loud in the silent room. "It was his wife, wasn't it?" she said in an uncharacteristically calm voice. "Did Mrs. Johnson batted her eyelashes and you spilled your guts? That's how it happened, didn't it?"
"Stop it, Raven," I growled. But she wouldn't. Her calm mask was falling apart and the white hot anger was showing.
"Poor poor Mrs. Johnson who is so uhappy in her marriage with one of the most powerful men in Newcrest! Did it occur to you they both could have manipulated you to tell them? 'Let's fool this naive boy, play on his soft side, wife, because he can't say no to a pretty face!'"
I jumped out of the bed. "That's enough! Shut up!"
The idea of Emily betraying me this way was unbearable. Is it really a betrayal if she's loyal to her husband? A tiny voice in my head said. But everything about her seemed so genuine. She wouldn't tell anyone, would she? It must have been him.
Raven was persistent. "What are you going to do now, Chris?"
"I may have mentioned it at the dinner with chief," I breathed still in shock that people didn't welcome the prospect of a brand new modern gym to be built in Newcrest.
"Of course you did! I told you to be careful what you say in front of the chief."
She paused and for a brief moment I dared to hope she changed her mind and decided to give me a silent treatment. But this was Raven. Always analyzing, suspicious and very vocal, which could be a blessing and a curse at the same time. Her expression changed. It was a stony mask now. Her sudden sharp intake of breath sounded too loud in the silent room. "It was his wife, wasn't it?" she said in an uncharacteristically calm voice. "Did Mrs. Johnson batted her eyelashes and you spilled your guts? That's how it happened, didn't it?"
"Stop it, Raven," I growled. But she wouldn't. Her calm mask was falling apart and the white hot anger was showing.
"Poor poor Mrs. Johnson who is so uhappy in her marriage with one of the most powerful men in Newcrest! Did it occur to you they both could have manipulated you to tell them? 'Let's fool this naive boy, play on his soft side, wife, because he can't say no to a pretty face!'"
I jumped out of the bed. "That's enough! Shut up!"
The idea of Emily betraying me this way was unbearable. Is it really a betrayal if she's loyal to her husband? A tiny voice in my head said. But everything about her seemed so genuine. She wouldn't tell anyone, would she? It must have been him.
Raven was persistent. "What are you going to do now, Chris?"
"I don't know," I said and started putting on my clothes. It looked like I'd be leaving without breakfast again, because I didn't want to spend all morning arguing. Why did all things I put my heart into and that really mattered to me have to be so difficult? I wanted to be my mother's son in every aspect, I craved recognition for being a good police officer and for building something useful for people. Instead I'd be remembered as the Heffner who chased girls and sent his father in jail.
I felt as if everyone was trying to profit on me somehow, even Raven. I barely kept it together, self doubt crushing me like a giant piece of rock resting on my chest so heavily that I almost couldn't breathe. I didn't know what to do, and all Raven cared about was her career.
"They are waiting for your statement," she went on.
"I have no statement for them yet and I don't feel like giving any right now," I snapped.
"You can't just ignore them!"
"The hell I can't!" With my shirt half-buttoned I stormed out of the bedroom so that I didn't have to listen to Raven anymore. But she followed me downstairs and to the front door.
"Don't you want me to assist you with the statement? Let's do an interview about the project together. We can address all major concerns before the reporters corner you and swarm you with questions," she went on as I strode to my car.
Of course. Another interview. More career points for her.
"Fuck the statement and fuck the interview!" I yelled at her and jumped in the car.
"Stop running, Chris! I'm trying to..."
I revved the engine up and cut her tirade off. I floored the gas pedal and sped off so fast the tires screeched. I could smell the rubber burning. I hoped I left skid marks in front of her house. Heh. There's my statement!
* * * * *
At least people at work were much more excited about the gym idea. I received several pats on the back and invites for a beer. My mood improved a little.
It wasn't very often that I felt lonely. I kept myself busy every day, but there were times I really needed to talk to someone. I haven't had a good friend I could trust since Finn Hudson at the high school. I had been thinking about giving him a call, but our lives were worlds apart now. I even heard he's married and they're expecting.
There was only one person I felt somewhat comfortable to confide in and who never used anything personal I told him to gain an advantage at work or extra simoleons.
I found him in the kitchen corner gazing absent-mindedly in space. I wanted to unload my troubles on him, but I stopped myself, because I realized something. He never bothered anyone with his personal stuff. When I saw him standing there, I noticed how tired he looked, probably didn't sleep well or at all last night. I also recalled I often saw him eat those microwave cooked meals or takeouts. He didn't have a wife and didn't date anyone from what I gathered. The only woman people talked about when referring to Terry and any romantic relationships was Anita Alvarez, and that must have happened long time ago.
My new partner didn't look like a happy man at all and I felt a sting of guilt for not having noticed before.
"Your coffee's getting cold," I said.
Roused from his thoughts he looked at me and then at the mug in his hand. "Who cares? It tastes like dishwater anyway."
We both laughed. The coffee was indeed terrible, but we still kept drinking it. For a hundreth time I reminded myself to buy a decent coffee maker for our station. I surely could afford it.
"Rough night?" I asked.
"I couldn't sleep, so I went through one of the cold case files," he said and something in his voice suggested he didn't want to discuss it. But why? Then it hit me.
"My mother's case?"
"Yeah."
He picked this moment to turn away and empty the coffee mug in the sink. The silence that fell on us was loaded with words we both found too difficult to say. There were only two people I knew of that still lived with the case. Me and Terry. We both needed a closure.
"I never blamed you, you know?" I said to his back. "I blamed my dad, but never the cops."
His shoulders stiffened for a moment before he turned back to face me. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I blame myself," he said. "We should have worked faster, but I let Carl, my former partner, convince me, that you and your mother may not be in danger. He believed your dad came to take you two away and your stepfather was in his way. It sounds so absurd now. If it wasn't for your aunt and sister, you could be dead too. We failed. I will never repeat the same mistake and jump to conclusions without a solid evidence."
"The theory wasn't so far-fetched, Terry. My dad was totally capable of doing that. He's crazy."
Terry gave me a concerned look. "Have you seen him since the trial," he asked.
I shook my head and looked at the tips of my shoes for I couldn't deal with his sympathy for what I had done to my father. "Anytime I entertain the idea of visiting him, one look in his damn file and I can't."
"Maybe you should stop looking in that file, Chris. Go and talk to him. Do it for yourself, not for him."
"I'll think about it. He's not going anywhere in the next ten years anyway."
Here we were, talking about my stuff again. Remembering I wanted to do something for Terry in return, I asked, "Hey, what are your plans for this evening? Would you join me and Kellie for a dinner?"
He surely needed a decent hot meal once in a while and the least I could do was to help with that a little.
His expression changed, his eyes looked almost hungry. "I would love to!" he said and then he frowned immediately. "But... I'm expected at my sister's tonight. Once in a month I get a dinner from her for the price of being interrogated about my non-existent love life..." he grinned, "...and posing as a climbing pole for my nephew and nieces."
I wouldn't let him escape so easily. "What about Sunday then? A lunch?"
"Sure, if your sister won't mind."
"Kellie? Of course she won't mind. You're her favourite cop after all!"
"Really?" He didn't sound convinced.
"It sure isn't me. She always speaks nicely of you. And she'll be happy to test her culinary experiments on someone else beside me. Don't say I didn't warn you though."
"It can't be that bad."
Comparing to what you live off, Terry, Kellie's cooking is certainly an improvement, I thought. "I admit, the results of her experimenting surprised me several times," I said. "You better arrive on time, not to witness the preparations. She's disturbingly precise when she measures the ingredients, as if it was a matter of life and death. One time she completely threw me off balance when she used a tape in order to cut the roast into identically thick slices."
"Oh." The corners of Terry's mouth twitched. "I think I need to see that. I may arrive a little earlier then," he said.
I had been having a growing suspicion he might have a thing for my sister. Anytime we talked about her, he perked up and his expression softened. Surprisingly, the thought of him and Kellie together wasn't an unpleasant one. I liked him much better than Thomas Nightshade and wouldn't mind him as a brother in law. Kellie needed someone to take her mind off the issue of my father. Maybe I could kill two birds with one stone with the Sunday lunch, so to speak. Maybe a little push was all the two of them needed...
* * * * *
My phone kept buzzing all day as the media was trying to contact me. I ignored it and almost missed Kellie's message because of it.
* * * * *
After work I went to a shopping center instead of our small local store. I decided to add more items to Kellie's list, since Terry was coming for a lunch on Sunday. We definitely needed some beer.
"That's a lot of cereal, Mr. Heffner. Are you throwing a cereal party?"
I looked up startled and there she was, Emily Johnson, even more beautiful than I remembered. My heart turned into a wild horse threatening to jump out of my chest and drag me behind to my death. I was sure I was gaping at her for at least five minutes before I snapped out of it.
"If I was, would you come?"
I tried my best to sound casual, but my ears were burning. What was it about her that made me feel like a babbling idiot? I've never had a problem to speak with girls before. But Emily was like an ethereal being, she reminded me of one of those elven queens from stories: ageless, radiant and out of reach for ordinary mortals, possesing the ability to heal wounds with her touch. I only hoped she couldn't read minds too, because she would know how much I've been thinking and dreaming about her since the dinner. Would the primitive nature of my dreams offend her? I wanted to drop to my knees and pledge my life to her.
She smiled almost shyly. "I never was much of a party girl." Then her face turned serious. "Chris, I owe you an apology."
I blinked and tore my eyes from her slim waist. It would fit in my hands so perfectly. I looked into her mesmerizing smokey blue orbs. "What for?"
"I shouldn't have asked about your plans at the dinner. I had no idea Ron would tell anybody. I'm sure this is not how you wanted to introduce your project to the citizens. I'm sorry. If I could undo it, I would."
"You didn't tell anybody. It shouldn't be you apologizing, Emily."
Why did saying her name felt so intimate? I wanted to say it again and again to experience the delight of doing so over and over. Strange thing with those names. Whenever she said mine, my heart sang. It was almost as good as kissing. Almost. I lowered my gaze not to get caught staring at her lips.
"But I feel responsible for the bad press your project is receiving, because the information was leaked. If it was done properly, if you had a chance to..."
"It's alright, Emily. I will..." I sighed, "...give a statement and fix it." Hopefully. "It is possible the reaction would have been the same even if it was me to announce it. Don't worry about it anymore. I'm glad it wasn't you, who leaked it, though."
Did she blush?
"Despite what they say in the papers, I still think your idea is brilliant, Chris. You and I know the police force deserves this. Our town has the lowest crime rate. My parents moved to Newcrest from much less safer area, they would support this project too, had they still lived. My father was a cop too, he would most likely invite you for a beer to show his approval. Don't let anyone dishearten you. Remember you have at least one person on your side. Me."
And it's all that matters. "Thank you. Emily."
She had no idea how much I needed to hear that. Why couldn't Raven say the same thing to me this morning instead of talking about statements and interviews?
We then paid and left the store. I didn't want to say goodbye to Emily yet, for some reason I was at peace with myself around her. She seemed to enjoy my company as well. We talked some more outside. She told me she had a degree in psychology, but never practiced it for she got married very soon after she finished school and her parents died. Her husband wanted her to stay at home and take care of the household. I could tell she regretted her decision. Another reason for me to dislike the chief, he deprived this woman of her dreams. She would be great at helping people.
I offered to drive her home. She refused.
"It's not far from here and I like to walk," she said. "Besides, it wouldn't be..." she trailed off and blushed.
"It wouldn't be appropriate?" I finished for her. "It's just a short car ride." But as soon as I said it, I knew it was a lie. Having her sit too close to me in the car, with our thighs possibly touching, I wouldn't be able to resist and I would try to kiss her.
"We don't want to give a cause for gossip. The eye of the public often rests on the both of us. On you more than me, I'm just a wife of the police chief, but you represent this town, people love you and want to know everything about you. I'm sure there are already pictures of us talking on the Internet. There's nothing wrong about talking, of course, but if I get in the famous car of yours..." her face was positively red now, indicating her thoughts ventured in the same direction as mine, "...it will be a different story. I am obliged to politely decline your offer, Mr. Heffner."
I didn't insist and let her go.
As I watched her walk away, my heart sank, for I knew I needed her in my life, but couldn't have her.
* * * * *
Later in the evening
Kellie: Chris? Can you explain to me why you bought six boxes of cereal and beer? Where's the bread? Where's the milk? What is Celeste supposed to eat for breakfast tomorrow? Cereal with beer?
Kellie: Chris? Can you explain to me why you bought six boxes of cereal and beer? Where's the bread? Where's the milk? What is Celeste supposed to eat for breakfast tomorrow? Cereal with beer?
Big thanks to Jes2G for helping me throughout this chapter! Much of the meaning would be lost without her advice and kind assistance.
Poses featured in this chapter were made by Helgatisha, Joanne Bernice, MOC, R-Jayden, Simtographies and yours truly.
Poses featured in this chapter were made by Helgatisha, Joanne Bernice, MOC, R-Jayden, Simtographies and yours truly.