“What is that on the screen?” I ask, and her eyes narrow in on mine.
“C-Collin?” she asks with a bit of hesitancy. “You, don’t know?” I feel myself losing the little patience I have.
“Play it,” I tell her. She picks up the remote on her desk and plays the video. It’s Cal of course, and whatever is going on has his fingerprints all over it. As I watch I feel something I never have before. My chest is tight, and I’m on the verge of a headache.
“When did he do this?” I ask, my voice low and shaky.
“You don’t remember, you haven’t been aware?” I swear Helen is a genius. I rub my hand across my head. I remember when Chris cut all of our hair off, but now it’s longer and I can wrap it around my thumb. It’s been more than a few days—maybe even a few weeks.
“Are you okay? You don’t look like yourself?”
I press my knuckles together. “Calvin is out of control. He’s up to something, and I need to know what they’ve talked about.”
Helen displays a smile to comfort the pathetic, but it only arouses my suspicions.
“You know how it works, Collin. I only share what I’m given permission to.”
I clutch my knuckles that look paler than I recall them. “The last thing I remember…” I try to think…“Christopher was here with Lauren….” I gulp down my budding nerves because there is definitely something to be very nervous about.
“You still have not communicated with Cal?” she asks, attempting to conceal her surprise.
“He is a lot more childish and stubborn than I initially thought,” I admit. “And I want to know how he’s been able to block me out.”
“Cal shouldn’t be able to do that Collin. You’re co-conscious,” she begins to explain and I slam my fist against the table in front of me.
“I know what he should not be able to do but he is doing it. I have no idea what has been happening or what day it is.” I growl.
“Collin, this isn’t like you.”
“That’s what I mean! Something is very off.” I try to remain calm but stress the importance that she helps set this right. I don’t know what’s going on with these two. Cal thinks he’s so smart, but I’ve been at it a lot longer than he has.
“Would you allow me to speak with him?” she asks, and I laugh.
“I’m not letting him out,” I scoff. Her lips press together in a tight line.
“Then this is where the problem lies, Collin. You are supposed to be the neutral party, the level-headed presence, unbiased…” she trails off. “Would you like to talk to me about what has changed?”
I suck in a breath trying to maintain my composure. Life happened. Calvin went on the fritz, and then Chris wouldn’t function right and I had to man the ship longer than I imagined doing. Lauren happened. She cared for me, loved me, and desired me, and I realized I could make things better than either of them. They made things worse, and Calvin’s selfish antics only highlights the fact that I would be the best father to Caylen and husband to Lauren. They are incapable and ruin all they touch.
“I want to start Naltrexonel…”
Her eyebrows rise. “Last I checked I’m the doctor, Collin.”
“Okay, let me put it this way. You write my prescription, or I decide to let Calvin walk through the door…” I tell her, meeting her eyes. “The door to the room, Helen. The one your employer wouldn’t want him to go through… the person who writes your checks, who this entire empire stands on.” I watch her gulp.
“What are you referring to, Collin?” She studies me as I search her expression and wonder does she know… maybe she doesn’t. After all, she’s just a limb, not the brain.
I stand from my seat. “Never mind. I’ll have your boss make the call,” I tell her, throwing her a dismissive glance.
“Collin, don’t you think we need to talk about this?” She stands and walks toward me.
“I think we’ve talked enough,” I tell her before closing the door to her office. I pull out my phone and see that I have a text from Lauren asking me to meet her at the gallery. She's just the person I want to hear from.
“I’m up here,” Lauren calls out as the security system announces that I’ve entered. I look around and take in my surroundings. After finding out the date, I’ve realized I’ve been shut out for weeks. The gallery, already in pristine condition when I bought it, has come a long way. Paintings are hung, lighting fixed, floors buffed. There are boxes and equipment for the opening everywhere. I head up the stairs and am reminded of what a vision she is when I see her. Her hair is piled in a knot on the top of her head. Her eyes are bright in the way I imagine angels would look.
“This morning was rough. I wanted to apologize again for everything that happened,” she says, and I look at her curiously. What exactly happened this morning? She lets out a soft sigh and hugs herself.
“This is still new to me, and confusing at times, and I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt any of you,” her voice breaks, and I don’t know what I’ve just walked into.
“It’s hard dealing with this sometimes. It hurts me when you hurt—or when any of you hurt. I just want everyone to be happy, and I don’t know how to do that and am trying so hard.” She covers her face with her hands, and I wrap my arms around her and kiss her head.
“You’re not mad at me anymore?” Her voice sounds childlike.
“No, I’m not.” I feel her relaxed body become stiff in my arms, and she leans back to look up at me.
“Collin?” She asks with a guess in her voice, and I nod. Her chin drops to her chest. I release her from my embrace.
“You’re disappointed?” She looks up at me—she’s smiling but there are tears in her eyes.
“None of you disappoint me.” She’s exasperated and walks to the other side of the room to collapse onto the couch.
“Nothing ever gets settled or fixed. When it’s a problem to solve, you run away—not you but—you know what I mean.” She laughs, but it’s mirthless.
“What happened?” I ask as I sit beside her. She sniffs and looks at me curiously.
“I thought you know everything that happens?”
“Yeah, I thought I did.”
She finally sits up and wipes her eyes. “Cal came back and he didn’t let me know it was him. Chris was upset that I couldn’t tell them apart so now he’s mad at me. I’m so annoyed with Cal for not telling me and now… you’re here, and I’m sure I’ll get blamed for that too,” she says.
This is why they have to go. This isn’t a happily married woman—this is a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown. When I was here she was never like this—she was happy, productive, and loved. They’re both too selfish to deserve her, and to deserve this life. I hook my arm around her and she rests her head on my shoulder then curls her body into mine. This is what they’re supposed to do—bring peace—but all they bring is the war. And it’s why they should be extinct.
“Everything is going to work out fine,” I promise her.