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One deception leads to another. Stereotyping strangers leads to valuable lessons. WIP |
“Who are you looking at, Mike?” Jacob asked, putting out his cigarette in the clean glass ashtray sitting on the bar and turning around on his stool. Mike reached for and took a small sip of his beer without taking his eyes off the beautiful woman in question, dancing on the floor with young punks that don’t deserve her attention. Her short red dress twirled and her long, light brown hair glimmered with light from the disco ball as she spun around the dance floor with any young man who would take her hand. The R&B music fell to the backdrop of his concern for her. “Earth to Mike Shepherd. You’ve barely touched that beer and you’ve been staring at the same woman for the past hour. What’s going on with you? Your wife is gorgeous and a very sweet lady at that. You shouldn’t be staring at her like that.” “I’m not staring at her like that. I know who she is and she is in danger, doc.” “I don’t recognize her. Who is she?” “She’s only among the richest women in this country and, do you see those big muscular guys in suits at either side of the bar, the ones that are slumped over, passed out?” “Yes, you know them too?” “They are her body guards. I’ve seen them on television when the cameras try to spy her out. They’ve been drugged, I can tell. She’s not going to be able to get out of here without a struggle.” “Why do you say that?” “Apparently I’m not the only one who knows who she is. She’s a financial genius,” Mike said, reaching behind him to pick up the magazine he left face down on the bar. “Take a look.” He pointed to her face on the cover of Fortune. “What in the hell is she doing dancing with those fools, then? And since when have you read that magazine?” “She’s got a wild hair in her. Her father doesn’t let her get out and enjoy herself with people her own age much. She’s the key to his fortune. She’s only 23 and is forced to hang out with old fogies that wouldn’t know a real party if they were in the middle of one. And I’m reading this magazine because I don’t want to be a low class Joe Schmo all my life. I have a business on the side.” “I’m impressed, you got to tell me more about that some time. I always like a good bet.” “It’s a sure thing, not a bet,” Mike said, taking another small sip of beer. “It’s a sure thing that you won’t be getting out of here tonight without roughing someone up. You got out of that monkey suit for nothing, my friend. Look, those two guys back there are talking with her and walking her out.” Mike grabbed the magazine, hopped up off the barstool and walked swiftly toward the gruff young punks. Jacob followed directly behind. The young woman struggled as they each held onto one of her arms. “Let her go!” Mike yelled. His walk turned into a trot, as he pushed past the curious dancers who stood in awe of his loud speech that had boomed beyond the music. The punks looked back, but kept moving toward the door. They stopped as Mike’s police badge caught the spinning lights. He and Jacob caught their breath as they finally reached a reasonable distance. “Let go of her.” The woman screamed and struggled ruthlessly to get free, to no avail. “If my badge won’t make you let her go, then so be it.” He lifted up the magazine. “If you take off with her or hurt her, her family will track you down like dogs, and I won’t mention what she could do to you if she lived.” The young woman kicked down with her red spike-heeled pump and stabbed one of the punks in the calf and punched the other in the face as her arm was let loose. Her assaulters yelped and attended to their wounds. Mike smiled, then he and Jacob tried to catch her fall as they threw her to the ground, but were too slow to the punch. She hit the floor and laid still. “For a rich girl, she can sure fight. I’ll attend to her while you go call the precinct to report it,” Jacob said. Mike pushed through the onlookers, who stood there gawking at the poor little rich girl. He wanted to go home and call it a day after relaxing with a nice cold beer, but she ruined that idea. He used the phone at the bar and phoned in the report. Two officers were being dispatched to the scene immediately. He went back to Jacob and the young woman. “Dr. Herald,” it sounded odd to call him that, “is she going to be alright?” His gray eyes peered over his thick wiry glasses. “She’ll be fine. She’ll have a nice lump on her head though. She took the fall quite well. Nothing broken, as far as I can tell. You know where you can take her so she can sleep this off?” “I’m not allowed in any of the places she would go, and waking up Tyra’s father right now would be a very bad idea for all concerned.” “Her father’s wealthy too.” “Hughes Collier is a multibillionaire, doc. It’s not a good idea.” “Where could you take her then?” “Well, I can’t take her to my place and your wife would freak if you brought her home. There is one person I know of who would have no idea who she is, but he is a very good friend, who I know would take good care of her.” Jacob gave him advice as to what to do if she didn’t retain her memory, but said it wouldn’t be a problem. He helped Mike take her to his car as the two policemen were walking onto the scene. “Mike, you can’t go anywhere without causing a commotion, can you?” the older police officer said. The young rookie walking beside him just shook his head. “She alright? We’ll need to get a statement from her.” “She’s in no condition to give a statement right now, but she’ll be fine. The perps are inside. She clobbered them pretty good.” He turned to Jacob, who covered Tyra with the thin green cotton blanket that Mike had in the large back seat of his 1972 Buick Skylark. “Thanks for everything. I’ll get in touch with you tomorrow to let you know how everything worked out. I’ll give you the address, so you can go check up on her.” Mike pulled out his cell phone, as Jacob nodded with his usual crooked smile and walked away. He looked up Craig Miller in his phone book: his little cheat sheet of all the friends’ numbers he was supposed to know by heart. “Hey, Craig. I wanted to know if it’s alright if I come over. I don’t usually ask, but I have an important favor I need from you. I have someone with me.” “Come on over, buddy. I don’t get many visitors since that horrid breakup with Claudia. It’ll be great to have the company. I have something to important to discuss with you too.” he answered. “Great, we’ll be right over. Thanks. Bye.” Mike drove a quarter mile down the dimly lit county roads. He thought about leaving Newburgh several times, but the NYPD was his calling his name, along with this business that had educated him about Tyra’s world. Tyra moaned and he saw her eyelids flutter as he adjusted the rearview mirror. “Where am I?” she asked, still waking to reality. “It’s almost midnight. You’re with the police and you’re safe.” “You’re not going to call my father, are you?” “I wouldn’t do that to you, Ms. Collier.” “You know who I am?” “Yes, you are a very successful entrepreneur and financial advisor. You’re definitely too successful to have your father run your life.” “Thank God for you. You can call me Tyra. Where are we going?” “I’m taking you to a good friend’s house, away from the media and your father. Go back to sleep and relax, Tyra. You need your rest. We’ll be there soon.” Her soft nasal snore soon emanated from the back seat. He pulled into the short driveway and rang Craig’s doorbell. Craig answered the door wearing a maroon sweatsuit and flip-flops. His dark brown hair was mussed and the light pink creaks in his cheek marked the quick nap he had just awoken from. “You said you had someone with you?” he asked, yawning heavily. Mike went to his car and carried Tyra into the house. She lied limp in his arms, still lightly snoring, as he took her into the guest bedroom Craig pointed out to him. “She’s had a hard night at Ruby’s. I was just relaxing and I saw these guys try to hurt her right in front of me.” “She’s beautiful.” Craig said, staring at her peaceful countenance. “Is she alright?” “She’ll be fine. She has a mild concussion. She woke up in the car and I told her to relax. She needs a place to stay tonight. I knew you had some medical training. She shouldn’t need anymore than a Tylenol.” “I don’t see why not. She looks harmless enough.” “Now what was it you wanted to discuss with me?” Mike asked, walking into the living room and sitting on the couch. “It’s not about Claudia, is it?” “No, I don’t have anything to do with her anymore. I have two dilemmas I need some advice on though. I just got laid off from Bridgemont and I don’t know how to tell my parents. They’re coming from Virginia to visit for a few days.” “Tell them what happened. I didn’t think nursing homes laid off people like that. How did it happen?” Mike asked, staring into the guest bedroom. Tyra was awake. “Some wealthy asshole bought the nursing home and decided to cut corners to help his bottom line. That’s what it boils down to. I don’t know why rich people always have to knock the little guy down. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Do you know how hard it is to find a good job as a nurse’s aid? It’s pretty damn hard. I want to wring that tightwad’s neck.” “It’ll be okay. Just take it easy while your parents are here and start looking for a new job when they leave. Take a breather. Let me set up a time I can show you my business plan. I want to help you out.” “I don’t want a business, I want my sane life back. I did have one. I also need a wife.” “You want to get married?” “After Claudia, I don’t want anything to do with marriage. I told my parents that I was married so they wouldn’t try to fix me up with some God awful woman again.” “I don’t know what to tell you on this one. That’s quite a mess. When do they get here?” “They’ll be here the day after tomorrow. I’m desperate. I can’t deal with my mother’s matchmaking, and just having a fiancée wouldn’t be good enough. She doesn’t trust my judgment in women. I’ve asked around at Bridgemont to see if any woman would help me out, but there were no takers, even though I was willing to pay.” Craig looked into the guest bedroom and stared into Tyra’s attentive eyes. “I have an idea.” Craig walked into the guest bedroom and switched the light on as Mike followed behind him. “Would you like a glass of water?” She nodded her head, still looking up into his eyes. As he brought the glass of water to her, Mike turned to the doorway and whispered, “You don’t even know her.” Craig ignored him and handed the water to her. “How are you feeling?” “I’m a bit groggy and my stomach is turning somersaults, but, otherwise, I’m okay,” she said. She grasped the large plastic cup and took a sip. “Your stomach’s bothering you?” Mike asked. “Yeah, I had one too many Long Island Iced Teas. One was enough for the rest of my life.” “I know this may sound forward, but I have something to ask of you,” Craig said. “I got myself in a bad predicament.” “I heard. You need a wife.” She grinned and laughed quietly. “Could you help me?” “Tell me more, and I might consider it.” “But you. . .” Mike said, but stopped as she raised her eyebrows and urged him not to finish his sentence with a light grunt. “I’m outta here. You two have a great night. Craig, she’s all yours.” “Thanks for everything. I owe you, you know that,” Tyra called after him. Craig took the gray comforter off her legs as she moved to get up. “You should stay lying down.” She stood up and wobbled on her hosed feet, then fell back on the bed. “You’re right. I’ll lay down.” “You said you might help me out?” “What all does this entail?” “I would pay you for pretending to be my wife for a few days while my parents are here. Of course, I would never ask you to have sex with me for money.” She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. He could feel the warmth of her eyes looking him over. “It sounds like a challenge. I’ll do it with one condition.” “Whatever you want.” “I don’t leave this house for anything.” “I don’t understand, but I can arrange that.” “I’ll write down my measurements and you can buy some clothes for me from Wal-mart. You’ll want to rent a wedding dress and tux, so we can take pictures.” “Have you done this before?” “No, but I suggest you listen to me if you want to fool your mother. Fathers usually aren’t that big on detail, but mothers are.” “Are you one?” “A mother, no. I’m not married either. I lost my mother when I was sixteen, but there wasn’t one secret I could keep from her very long.” “I’m grateful for your help. What do you think we should do first?” “We each need to make a list of likes and dislikes. You know, things like how we each like our coffee, what books we like to read. Things like that?” “Read?” Tyra rolled her eyes. Craig looked down at the floor, believing she might think he was an idiot if he admitted to only reading sports magazines. “It’s okay. I want to know about the true you. If I don’t, your parents will see right through me. The other thing we should establish right away is closeness. Climb in bed with me. I want to know if you snore, if your feet are ice cold, if you talk in your sleep. I need to know those things.” Craig swallowed the aching burn of anxiety in his throat. She was being very forward. Then again, a beautiful woman was inviting him to bed with her. “Come to my bedroom. This is where my parents will be sleeping.” She followed him into his bedroom and laid next to him in his bed, keeping her distance. He stared at her, unable to sleep the entire night. The next morning, they exchanged personal lists and he went to Wal-mart and to rent the wedding dress and tux. He walked into the house clutching several plastic bags and two black garment bags. She was sitting at the dark oak kitchen table, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, examining his list. “You are a very interesting man, I’ll give you that. Did you get to read over the list I gave you?” “Briefly.” “Is there anything I need to know about things you’ve already told your parents.” “I’ve been very elusive about my wife. I’m not that good of a liar to make up people who don’t exist.” He went to the living room and dropped the bags on the couch. “I hope you like what I picked out.” “I’m sure it’ll all be fine. Do you have any questions about me?” “It kind of baffled me that you read all these hoity toity self-help books and like to fish as well.” “These books have helped me adjust my attitude so I can help other people with theirs. I like fishing because it relaxes me. My father doesn’t understand it, but my Uncle Rob and I go fishing in his boat at least once every two weeks. Do you fish?” “No. You don’t say here that you like to eat fish,” he said, pondering her list. “Actually, I’m allergic to most of the fish I catch. I do it purely for sport.” She put down the list. “We need to start on these pictures.” He put on the tux and waited impatiently for her to finish in the bathroom. “It didn’t say on the list what you do for a living,” he yelled against the whining of the hair dryer. “I’m a financial consultant for small businesses.” He shrugged his shoulders and dared not ask any specifics that may make him sound like an ignorant fool. She was a financial consultant. Good, there’s something positive to tell his parents. As she stepped out of the bathroom, the sunlight danced on her loosely upturned hair and the white sequins of the strapless white gown. She pulled the veil away to reveal her sparkling blue eyes. He stood, unable to move, breathless as he handed her the two gold rings that were once meant for Claudia. “Everything fits perfectly,” she said. “Let’s get started.” Craig set up the camera and they posed for pictures in front of a blue sheet he had stapled to the wall. He laid next to her that night and watched her sleep. His parents would be impressed with her, he knew it. At least they would be impressed with someone. The next morning, the doorbell jolted him from his drowsy state and onto his feet. He went to the door and opened it to his parents. His mother grabbed and hugged him. His father shook his hand and gave him a half hug. Their smiles straightened as Craig looked back to see Tyra walking in the room. “Mom, Dad, I would like you to meet Tyra. I’m sure you’ll grow to love her as I have. Tyra, this is. . .” “I’m Ruth and this is Peter,” his mother interrupted. She shook Tyra’s hand and Peter looked her over in silence. “It’s great to finally meet you. Your son and I fell in love at first sight and didn’t hesitate tying the knot. I’m sorry you couldn’t be there.” “Dear, all I ask is that you renew your vows so that we can see our son get married,” Ruth said. “We can do that on your next visit, okay?” Craig pleaded. She groaned, “I guess so. Do you at least have pictures for us to look at?” “We have some,” Tyra said, taking out the gold-rimmed white photo album. Craig sat next to Tyra on the soft burgundy sofa. She scooted toward him, but he inched away. He didn’t know what she was trying to do, getting so close to him with his parents sitting right across from them. He kept his hands on his lap in front of him. The warmth of her hand on top of his set his nerves aflame. She was chatting happily with his parents, but all he could think of was her hand, with the wedding band on her slender ring finger, on his. As they said their goodnights, she attempted to take hold of his hand, but he pulled it away. He followed her, as she walked swiftly into the bedroom. “This isn’t going to work,” she said, her hands at her hips. He closed the door. “Don’t say that too loud. What do you mean, this isn’t going to work?” “We’re supposed to be newlyweds and you won’t even hold my hand or attempt to touch me.” She went into the bathroom and came out wearing the long cotton nightshirt he had bought her. “You know, you remind me of what my Uncle Rob refers to the as the ignorant flailing fish.” She placed two fingers on his slightly open lips. “Let me finish. This fish is flailing around searching for air to breathe, suffocating, when he is right in the middle of the ocean. You think people want to cut off your air supply intentionally, that they want to hinder, not help you. Your world is as you think it is. If you believe everyone is out to hinder you than it will be so. The truth is, however, you have no need to suffocate, because there are people all around you that want to help, if you would just let them. I see the world full of people who want to help me get along in my life and I’m happy for it. The world is very colorful and lively for me. It is dismal for you trying to go it alone. No one does anything great alone. And I can’t help you without your cooperation.” “Who are you to tell me these things?” “I’m the one helping you do something that I don’t believe in. I’m losing my nerve here, trying to help you with this. You need to tell your parents the truth.” “I will, in good time. And you want to talk about the truth? What about your family and friends? I haven’t heard you say much about them at all.” “I love my father and he means well in all he does and my friends respect the fact that I want some quiet time away from them now and then.” “Never mind. I don’t want to argue right now. What do I need to do to help you?” “Get in bed. I’ll show you.” He climbed into bed and she climbed in and cuddled up next to him. “You need to be comfortable with this. I don’t know what happened with Claudia, but you need to warm up to me if you want this to work.” She looked up into his broad face and kissed him gently on the lips. He couldn’t help his erratic breathing, but that didn’t stop her from kissing him again. She stared at him blankly; her eyes glossed over with a softness he’s never known. He kissed her passionately and pulled her to him, but she pushed him away. “No, that’s too far,” she said, her voice trembling. A few hours of silence passed between them, then Ruth burst into the bedroom in a panic. “Your father is having a heart attack. I called the ambulance. Get up. Get ready. We have to go to the hospital!” The sirens played in Craig’s mind as he and Tyra stood in the quiet hospital waiting room. He didn’t understand why, but Tyra had insisted on coming along for support. A young doctor raced up to them. “You’re father doesn’t have any insurance. Our hands are tied as to what we can do for him,” the doctor explained. Craig broke down in tears and sobbed uncontrollably. Tyra pulled him aside. “Don’t let your mother see you fall apart.” She placed her hand on his wet cheek and lifted his face gently until his eyes met hers. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t have a job, my father’s going to die, and the last thing he knows of me is a lie,” he said to the rhythm of his sobs. Tyra took his hand. “Let me help you. I’ll be right back.” She came back with the doctor, who informed them that his father was in the operating room at that very minute and that they could go see him in intensive care when the triple bypass was finished. Ruth hugged Tyra. “God bless you, child.” Craig stood outside his father’s room with Tyra and Ruth, looking into the window. “Go tell him the truth,” Tyra said, and gave him a soft peck on the lips. He went into his father’s room and knelt at his bedside. He let the tears and truth flow freely from his lips as he confessed everything. His father patted him on the head and said, “Son, you have a good woman there. Don’t let her go.” Craig looked through the window at Tyra and his mother hugging, talking and laughing. Tyra’s grace and beauty mesmerized him as his father continued speaking. He knew he should’ve been listening, but his ears already echoed with her encouraging words. Craig and Tyra went home to the small house where they had met and Ruth stayed behind at the hospital. There was an air of peace in this place he hadn’t recognized before, as he stood next to her in the living room. “I told him the truth,” he admitted. “I told your mother the whole truth. There’s something I need to tell you.” “I don’t want to talk right now,” he said, as he moved in and kissed her passionately. Police sirens resonated through the open windows. Craig looked outside. The police car pulled into his driveway. “My father found me. I told him I need a break, but he doesn’t know how to handle some of our clients. One of the doctors at the hospital must’ve tipped off the police.” “What are you talking about? I don’t understand,” he said, opening the door to the policeman. A short, pudgy, bald-headed man pushed past the policeman and into the room. “I didn’t want to resort to such tactics, but I need you. What have you been doing and who is this man?” “Dad, I. . .” Craig interrupted. “It’s my fault that she’s been gone so long. She has been my wife for the last couple days.” Her father stared at the wedding band. “What?!” he shouted. “Dad, we’re not really married.” “No, we’re not, but I want to make it a reality,” Craig said. “I love you.” “I love you too. You need to know the truth, the both of you. What you should know, Dad, is that this man was fired because of your advice to Mr. Updike. I tried to persuade him that cutting human resources wouldn’t do him any good, but he didn’t listen. Now he’s out a lot of money and a hard, loyal worker.” Craig stood there, dumbfounded. “Y-y-you tell guys like Mr. Updike what to do?” “Yes, that’s what I have to do,” Tyra said. “You don’t know my father and I by name because you don’t study economics or society the way we do. I needed to take my money out of the equation in our relationship so that you could see me for who I really am. I have to say it was a beautiful deception and I’m richer in love because of it.” |
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