We jump apart because of a noise.
That’s when we find them.
Our parents.
Her mother bouncing up and down on my father’s lap like a professional porn star.
Claire keeps screaming she’s sorry.
Why is she saying that? Why does she keep repeating it over and over?
She knew what was going on, didn’t she?
She knew this whole time and she’s sorry.
She should be, I can’t believe this. I can’t believe her. She knew. She knew about this and didn’t tell me. She didn’t tell Chloe?
When the housekeepers usher us out of the room, Chloe and I push them away and listen at the door. My sister’s face is streaked with tears and nothing I could say could stop them.
Behind the thick oak door, our parents’ war begins.
“Nothing is ever enough for you, is it? Why her?” A hand slaps a face. “And here, in our home. Jesus, Silas.”
My father mumbles words I can’t hear.
“Oh my God,” Chloe says, “I think Dad’s crying.” She presses her ear to the wood of the door.
“Is this why you’ve been paying for Claire’s schooling? Is this why you offered to give Libby money tonight? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“No, Margaret, you don’t understand.”
“Oh, Silas you bastard. I understand now. Now we all understand. I can’t believe you did this to me.” Glass shatters and there’s an anguished cry. “You’re sick and perverted and disgusting. I won’t let you see her again, Silas. Ever.”
“It’s not that simple,” my father stammers. His heavy footfalls pace back and forth.
“End it!” Someone slams something down hard—or maybe it’s Mom throwing something heavy across the room. “End it or I will take you for every penny you have just so you give none to her.”
A prickling of heat rises in the back of my eyes, but I stamp it down. I’m not crying over this. I’m not a pussy.
My mother’s voice lowers, “Silas, I’ll go public if you even whisper the word divorce to me. I will tell everyone about your sick sexual appetites. Your fans will be disgusted by you, your entire career will go down in flames if I let everyone know who you really are. You’ll look like a fool, a sick, dirty, disgusting fool.”
“Margaret,” my father growls. “You can’t be serious. We’ll lose everything. And without me to feed into your exuberant luxuries, what would you do? You’re too old to trick another billionaire into marrying you.” His words drip with anger and scorn.
“My God, Silas. I can’t believe what an ugly, horrible person you really are inside. I can’t believe I ever thought you were someone good. I believed in you and what you stood for.”
My father’s entire multi-billion-dollar career is centered around his marriage and family self-help books and his motivational speaking. If anyone found out he was unfaithful, he’d look like a fraud. What the hell was he thinking, cheating on Mom?
I slide down the wall until I’m sitting, crumpled up on the floor. “Do you think Claire knew?”
My sister’s eyes narrow, and she nods sadly. “She told me she needed to tell me something important. Something she hoped I wouldn’t be angry about. So, yeah. I think she knew. And right after dinner, I heard Mrs. Radcliffe telling Mom about them going bankrupt.”
“What else did you hear?” I ask.
“Mrs. Radcliffe was upset. She said she needed to get away before it was too late.”
I climb back up to my feet and hurry to the front window to watch Claire and her parents below, on the front circular driveway. She’s sitting in the back of her father’s car. Even from all the way up here I can see her shoulders trembling as she sobs. Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe are screaming at each other over the roof of their car, he’s banging his hand along the outside of Claire’s window as he yells. Then he yanks open the car door and drags Claire out by the arms. She’s fighting with him, crying and pleading. He doesn’t stop.
Claire falls to the ground, and he just leaves her there. She and her mother, their faces full of dirt and tears. Then he climbs into the front seat of his car and speeds away. His taillights flicker at the end of the estate and then disappear.
I stare out the window silently watching.
Claire’s head is in her hands, her legs sprawled out along the blacktop, and she’s slumped over crying.
I feel numb.
No, that’s a lie. I feel nauseous. My stomach churns and twists until it forms a fiery lump in my esophagus.
I run to the bathroom and vomit into the wastebasket. The smell of sour regurgitated champagne makes me retch a second time. I don’t want to be a wuss and cry, but I do. I’m so goddamn angry. It’s mortifying—the effect this girl has on me––making me eye level to a toilet, the palms of my hands on the tile floor. Right now, everything looks strange to me. There’s a hairline crack in the wood of the bathroom cabinet. A small chip in the corner of my mother’s expensive Italian tiles. My life is ruined.
What’s going to happen to my family?
To Claire’s?
No, I can’t think about her anymore. I can’t care about her any longer. She and her mother ruined everything.
I try to gather some semblance of dignity. I try to set my head right. Why should I cry over someone who obviously isn’t who I thought she was? Claire’s nothing now, she’s nothing to me. She makes me feel dead inside. They were just here for my father’s money.
How could she use my family like that?
Why was Dad paying for Claire’s tuition?
I can’t believe I never saw the truth.
There’s a soft knock at the door.
“Yeah, one minute,” I say, wiping at my eyes. I stand up and run the water, splashing it over my face and the back of my neck.
“It’s me,” Chloe’s voice calls.
I kick the basket of puke into the corner. One of the housekeepers will find it at some point.
“What?” I snap as I open the door.
“They’re gone,” Chloe says, raggedly.
“Yeah, so?” What did she want me to say? I walk out of the bathroom as if I didn’t leave my heart at the bottom of the bathroom’s trashcan, and head back to listen to the rest of our parents’ fight.
Chloe stumbles to keep up with me. “One of the groundkeepers had to drive them. Mommy will probably fire him in the morning.”
I shrug, pretending I don’t care. “That’s what the groundkeepers are supposed to do, Chloe. They get rid of all the trash.”
I stop by the door to my father’s office and lean against the wall, listening.
“That’s what this all about, Silas. Money. She never loved you. She told me she was leaving him because of all their money problems. Libby Radcliffe was just trying to find her next big paycheck. You’re a fool.”
I guess we both were.
And there was no way I would ever forgive Claire Radcliffe for this.
Chapter 10
Hello, Claire.
My phone stopped working. The network is down.
And the electricity went out in your apartment, Claire.
There’s a blizzard outside the door. I guess it’s time to hunker down.