No Fault of Mine

Chapter Thirty-One

"Uncle Thad!" Brant yelled, tears streaming down his face. "Don't...don't," he pled. He came to my side, and I put my arm around his shoulders.

"Thad, get out of my house...now!" I said sternly. Stan came alongside and stood next to Brant.

Thad stepped toward me and said, setting his jaw, "Don't tell me what to do. You're the one..." he shook his finger in my face, "...that's messed up. You're no sister of mine."

I felt Brant shake at my side as he cried.

"Thad, cut it out; you're hurting my son," I yelled.

"I don't give a damn," he snarled. "Consider payback for what you've done."

"You heard the lady," Stan said in a calm but firm voice. "I know who you are, Thad Stoddard. No one should disrespect a woman in her own house, even his sister."

"Who are you," Thad said in a more normal voice.

"Stan Hunter," he said in a slow, steady voice. "I'd advise you to do what the lady asks."

Thad took a step toward Stan; his veins stood on his neck like blue conduits, and his face was blood-red. "This is family business. You have no rights here. You get out of my sister's house."

"You, Mr. Stoddard, have entered a woman's house uninvited and verbally assaulted her." Now face-to-face with Stan, he yelled with spit, "Don't tell me what to do. I could crush you."

"Mr. Stoddard, I don't mean to be blunt, but if this is a duel of penis size, you will lose. If it's a duel of strength, you will lose. If this is a duel of wealth, you will lose. Take what dignity you have left and leave now."

Thad shook and looked momentarily stunned; he turned to me and said, "Don't think this is over. You will pay."

"Oh, this is over, Thad," I said. "Remember Dad? He'd beat our butts with a belt, but tomorrow we all acted as if nothing happened."

Thad exited the house, leaving the door open. He stumbled across the lawn, got in his car, and drove off without looking back.

"That's an interesting way to meet your family," Stan said.

"Penis size?" Brant blurted out. "Wow!" He wiped his tears and laughed. I thought it was a nervous laugh, a kind of relief.

"How about dessert?" I suggested, wanting to redirect attention to something less offensive. I gave Stan a raised eyebrow, and he tilted his head in the direction of the kitchen with a smile.

Brant whipped up the whipping cream at the counter. I poured Stan and myself another glass of wine.

"I should have bought another bottle," I said, sitting beside him. "I need something calming after my brother's display of bad behavior."

"You've got steel in your backbone, don't you?" he asked

"I think it is adrenalin," I said, "and a strong sense of civility."

He turned toward me, smiling broadly. His smile broke into a smirk and then laughter, which warmed my heart. "That's what I saw at the restaurant: civility."

"Oh yes," I said. "You should see me really angry."

"You're flirting with me right now, right?"

It was my turn to laugh.

After Brant went the bed, I finally had Stan to myself.

"I'm sorry you saw that," I said as I nested myself against him. "Thad constantly tells me to be logical, not emotional. I think he breaks his own rules."

"He was certainly worked up. What codes was he referring to? Is that what was taken from the house last night?"

"I don't know. They were only letters and numbers—it could be a code."

"Like a password?"

"It didn't have that feel. You know, random numbers, letters, upper and lower case, and a symbol or two. No. It wasn't a password. Instead, my casual eye saw a pattern like a vanity license plate. The pattern tells the story."

"Do you remember any part of it?" he asked.

"Ah...well...there were six letters, all consonants, no numbers divisible by two, and no zero."

"I'm impressed," he said. "Was there an L?"

"Are we going to go through all the consonants in the alphabet?"

"Perhaps we'll get all six in six tries," he said.

"You're serious?" I asked.

"Do you think it would be helpful if you're sitting at your desk? Isn't that where you first looked at the file?"

I was stunned. I sat up and then stood up. Stan stood as well, perhaps thinking that I was going to go to my study. But instead, I was stuck...I was stuck on his words. Maybe I heard him wrong. I am given to suspicion, but I didn't think I was wrong...but something terrible was wrong. I could feel it. I looked at him. I know it wasn't a friendly, relaxed look because I was terrified. He backed up a step.

"Mia, are you okay?"

"How did you know I was sitting at my desk?" I asked, feeling a prickly sensation on my skin.

"I guess I made an assumption," he said, looking quizzical.

"I've not told you where I was, Stan, when I first viewed the file," I said, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. "I didn't tell you that I sat at the desk and looked at the file.

"Mia, I'm sorry my suggestion got us off track."

"No, Stan. Actually, it got us on track," I said. "I need a minute. Wait here on the couch, please."

I couldn't be in his presence right now. I was flooded with emotion, and I knew that my adrenaline would kick in. I didn't want to say anything that would drive a wedge between us, but my sudden lack of trust wouldn't let me stay in the room with him.

I went to my study and paced. I tried taking my mind off the threat to simmer down and think of a peaceful place—a mountain trail through a field of avalanche lilies...along a rushing creek of water freshly melted from a glacier...a Canadian jay begging for a morsel of food from a backpacker's lunch.

Fifteen minutes later, I returned to the living room, feeling less activated but motivated to have a heart-to-heart talk with this man who said he liked me and kissed me like he loved me. Part of me expected him to be gone, but he was sitting where I had left him. I sat on the opposite end of the couch and faced him, and he turned in my direction.

"Your speech about respecting and even honoring each other's emotions struck a chord with me. I want that kind of relationship, Stan. You also said our emotions are the most authentic part of us, and a relationship is about emotion. Did I summarize what you said accurately?"

"That is not only what I believe, but they are the foundational values I live by." He moved closer, but he remained a comfortable distance from me.

"I've tried to be truthful with you, Stan. Truthfulness has a major influence on my emotions. Deception undermines my emotions to the degree that trust is affected." I paused to allow Stan to respond. Though his eyes said his attention was on me, his body language was nearly a blank slate. "Stan, this afternoon I searched for your family business, you, and your brother on the Internet and other social media..."

Stan put his hands up as if to ward off my negative juju and said. "Mia, you're right. I'm not who I led you to believe."