Tender Hearts

Rescue Me

When Chas and his parents finally left, Evie ventured out of her room. She was afraid of him, but she'd learned a few things when she was on her own and, instead of the cold detachment she'd felt for her mother in the past, she now felt an underlying animosity that manifested itself as passive aggressive rage. As for Chas' parents, the thought of them in their haughty deference made her ill. The thought of facing her mother alone was a welcome respite from the dinner and that afternoon's surprise brunch. Evie thought if only she could reason with her mother, she could make some semblance of sense out of the chaos that was her life. Marianne was her key.

As she passed through the foyer, she spied her purse  jammed in the top drawer of the entry table, the attempt to hide it a feeble failure. She pulled it out and rifled through it, making sure the contents were intact. With a cautious sigh of relief, she returned to her room. There were several missed calls from her friends, as well as some from the hotel, all from the days she'd been gone, three in  total since the incident at the restaurant. She wanted to return them all, but she didn't know how much time she really had once she returned to her room with the contraband. Her one chance at making a phone call was spent on Amelia. It rang once and Amelia answered, "Evie, what the hell happened?" 

"My mother," Evie began, trying to replay in her head the events that seemed too extraordinary even for her to believe, "She drugged me and brought me home. She's trying to force me to marry Chas."

The silence on the other end was not a good indication. Finally, Amelia replied. "What happened with Tom?" 

Evie recounted the events at Il Fornacio, up until she was taken. "Chas has some shady dealings with a judge who's promised to have Tom locked up for a long time," she finished with. "I need your help."

Amelia was angry. "I'm sorry to say this," she sputtered, "But your mother is a true bitch if that's what she's doing to you. You can't force someone to marry against their will and especially not to someone like that." She took a deep breath meant to calm  down, but instead it spurred her on. Finally, she asked, "What can I do?"

"I've got some money," Evie answered. "It's from the sale of the townhouse and it's tied up at the moment. Chas lied to the bank and now he has all control of it. I was going to let him have it and be done with it, but this is the only way. If you bail Tom out, I'll get you back."

"How are you going to do that?" 

Evie knew she was playing with fire. With a sigh, she replied, "I'm going to agree to the marriage."

Amelia was speechless, but after a few moments of gathering herself, she asked, "You're going to do what?"

"I can't see any way to get my money and get out of it," Evie answered. "I can argue for an annulment after I get my money back."

"But, what about Tom?" 

At the mention of his name, after this aspect, after this revelation to her best friend, Evie broke into soft sobs. "Tell him I love him and that I'm sorry," she said, her voice breaking with the tears. She heard her mother calling her and said, "I need to go," hanging up the phone as she grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and dabbed the tears from her face.

As she stole into the spacious living room, with its modern design, high windows overlooking the city and sea and colors mimicking the tropics, Evie could see her mother, drink in hand, staring at something in the distance. Marianne was so entrenched in her own thoughts that it took three times of Evie calling to her before she snapped to and turned her attention to her daughter. "Evangeline, for God's sake," she berated as she nearly spilled her wine, "Don't sneak up on me like that."

Evie ignored it, instead tenderly lying her hand on her mother's shoulder. "You called?"

Marianne rolled her eyes. "This is about the wedding." She walked to the sofa and took a seat as she set her wine glass on the coffee table. "Well, come, sit," she invited as she patted the seat next to her.

"Mother," Evie said with a sigh as she sat down, "I know you want me to forgive and forget and marry Chas." She took Marianne's free hand in her own. "I'm not that person, it's not something I can do." Her eyes caught her mother's and she implored her, "Don't make me do this." Her entire plan went out the window as her own inner voice shut them down in defense of self-preservation.

"Your father would be disappointed." Marianne held her hand over her heart and closed her eyes, a devotional form of reverence that Evie didn't believe at all. Upon opening her eyes, she continued, "You know, he and I, we had out problems. There were infidelities, but I stayed with him because I knew it was best for me. He provided the life I wanted to lead."

Taking a deep breath of patience, Evie shook her head. "I don't want that," she said, sure her voice was getting softer by the word. "I don't care for Chas at all. The thought of what kind of person he is makes me sick."

"You loved him once, you can love him again." Marianne's eyes narrowed at her daughter. "This is not something that is up for discussion."

"Not up for discussion?" As surely as her voice softened, now it raged. "It's my life! Shouldn't I have a say in it?"

Her mother shook her head and pursed her lips. "You ran away and made a fool of yourself, working in that hotel for people that are beneath you. You sold your townhouse for what? A pittance. And you're supposed to be self-sufficient? You live in a hotel room."

Evie was exasperated. She expected to be able to talk it out with her mother, to come to an understanding, but all she found was a brick wall built of Marianne's own biases. Finally, she exploded. "Why is this so important to you?" she yelled as she stood up and kicked the corner of the sofa. "If you love Chas that much, you should marry him!"

Marianne's face got even more taut than usual. "That would hardly be appropriate," she replied, her voice cloying and calm. As she stared at her daughter, her facade began to crumble. Bit by bit, the emotions that she hid with the guarded coolness she normally exuded pushed through, crack by crack, piece by piece, until she was transformed from the tough-as-nails woman Evie knew her to be into a shaking mess of emotions. Her eyes reddened with impending tears and her lips quivered. Finally, she explained, "Everything your father left is nearly gone." It was more a whisper than anything. "We need Chas' money to live as we have been."

The sight of her mother in tears was more than Evie could bear. "How is Daddy's money gone?" she asked. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her and, as the floor felt like it pitched forward, she found herself flung back into the cushions of the sofa, propelled there by her legs giving out from under her. "How?"

"I made some bad investments," Marianne answered. "And then there's the payments on this penthouse..." She took a deep breath. "It all adds up." Dabbing at the tears in the corner of her eyes with her shirt sleeve, she pleaded, "This is about so much more than you. This defiance, it's a selfish act. If you marry Chas, we never have to worry about anything ever again."

"And, here I thought he wanted to marry me for my money," Evie shot. "Is he aware of any of this?"

Her mother shook her head. "He can't," she replied. "Don't you tell him."

Evie put her hand over her eyes and rubbed them. "You couldn't be truthful with me before?" she wondered aloud. "Would it have been that hard?" It wasn't a question she wanted answered. As she took her hand away, the immense room seemed claustrophobic, the oxygen missing her lungs altogether. "When did you plan all this?" she asked after some brief moments of strangling silence.

"When you and Chas began dating," Marianne answered. "Merrill and Claudia pledged if the two of you got married that Chas would receive half their fortune as a wedding gift." She sighed. "It was all so simple."

A vision of Tom sitting in a jail cell flashed through Evie's mind. She knew she couldn't bear to see him suffer like he was, even in her imagination. "Fine," she resigned, "I'll marry him, but I need to have him sign over all my money from the townhouse in good faith."