D for Dylan - 11. Chapter Eleven

Looking at them, sitting at the same table after spending last three years estranged, felt like it could heal all of my emotional wounds. I wasn’t really speaking at first, only listening. It was quiet and dim, I could still hear birds chirping just outside the window, in the night.

“You want him to leave?” Helen asked softly. “Dylan, I think you should go upsta-”

“No, he deserves to know.” Emma whispered, snuffling. “After everything he went through…”

I rubbed my cheek, trying to stop myself from getting emotional. I was still completely in the dark. How did she end up with bruises? Who did that to her? Was it Liam? Did he just snap and attack his own mom?

No. Liam I knew loved her more than life, he would’ve never laid a finger on her.

But then again, I thought he’d never hit me, either.

“Dylan, what do you remember about you dad?” Emma asked, out of the blue.

“Uh… I don’t… I don’t know.” I stumbled, looking away. “Why?..”

“Do you know why he left Boston?” she asked, calmly, studying confused look on my face. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes.” I affirmed. “I mean, yes, I do. He, uh… He lost custody battle and got fired and… uh… had to leave town. Why are you asking?”

She wiped her cheeks and extended her forearms on the table. Her fingers intertwined in a nervous gesture. She glanced at mom.

“That’s not all of it.” she whispered.

I looked at Helen, she pinched her nose and turned away.

“What?” I asked. “I don’t understand…”

“I don’t think your dad would’ve left you and Sarah like that,” Emma explained. “He was a terrible man, he caused you and your mom so much pain… But honey, please get me right…”

I raised my eyebrows, still not following.

“…he wouldn’t have just left. He would’ve stayed in the city, he still wanted to be the part of your lives.” she said.

“Mom, what is she talking about?” I asked, feeling the degree of confusion boiling through the roof of my skull. “Mom?”

She didn’t answer. She just locked her lips in anxiety and ruminated, playing with one of Sarah’s plastic toys.

“Are you saying he’s dead?” I asked, turning back to face Emma.

“No. He’s alive. I think he lives is Chicago.” mom intervened. “Honey, that’s not what she means…”

“Can we just stop playing charades, then? I don’t get it!” I spoke out, loudly. “Emma, why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to understand something about uncle Hank.”

I felt myself rocking back on the chair, in an even greater bewilderment. What? What did Hank Henderson have to do with this?

“My husband is…” she started, “He’s a very dangerous person, Dylan.”

“Emma, I don’t get it. Uncle Hank?..” I asked. “What does he have to do with it? I mean, you guys have hired lawyers and did everything together, didn’t you? I don’t remember him getting involved.”

Emma took a deep breath. Mom rubbed my shoulder, and I felt shivers running down my spine.

“Honey…” mom uttered. “Uncle Hank is a…”

“What? Is he a criminal? A mafia boss? What the hell are you trying to tell me?” I snapped, spreading my arms in a temperamental gesture.

“I guess you can say that, in a way.” Emma uttered with deep sadness in her voice.

I instantly tensed up and fixed my shocked gaze on her.

“It never started that way, in the beginning,” she uttered. “When we got married, all I knew was that he inherited a large part his grandfather’s estate. Gerald Henderson owned half of the property around Boston. Very successful man. Very ruthless too. Hank’s father died when he was a teenager, Gerald took him in, and he influenced him in a lot of ways…”

Emma glanced through the window, sinking into a reverie.

“I’ll pour us some tea,” mom said, getting out of her chair.

I couldn’t come up with a single word to say. I always knew Hendersons were extremely rich, I knew their wealth had to do with real estate, but that was about all I knew.

“Liam was twelve, when Hank told me,” she whispered, brushing away a stray tear on her cheek. “I couldn’t believe I was so silly and never suspected anything. I’ve seen the signs, there were some shady people parading in and out of our house at night, he would go on distant trips for weeks at a time, his closest friends would sometimes disappear, their wives always so quiet and closed-in…”

I think my mouth went agape.

“What did he… tell you?”

“He said that there were problems that required special kind of solutions. He gave me a peptalk about how he was providing those unique solutions. At first, I thought he was just joking, but then he explained it a little better. I think I underestimated just how well-connected his family really was.”

The sound of the water boiling in the kettle raised the tension in the room.

“His uncles and cousins are in politics. One of them is a senator. They are very influential. I don’t think they really need his ‘solutions’ all that often, to be honest. I don’t even think that for a man of his power and wealth, he still needs to be a part of that world.”

“Emma, I…” I uttered, still confused. “ I don’t understand. Is he… Is he a… drug lord or… uh…”

I felt stupid asking that, but I still couldn’t wrap my mind around what she was talking about.

“No, I think the people you’re talking about… the ones that oversee drugs and prostitution and the rest of… of that…” she spoke, visibly uncomfortable. “I think they are several ranks below him, I don’t believe they are allowed to interact with him directly.”

She must’ve caught my confused look, “It’s very different from what you see in the movies, Dylan. In reality, everyone is overdressed, attending countless dinner parties with famous people. I’d never have guessed…”

Helen interrupted the awkward silence by bringing the tea. I took my cup and felt the warmth spreading across my icy cold fingers.

“Did you know about this?” I asked mom.

“I did,” she nodded, sitting down. “She told me almost right away.”

“Dylan, you have to understand…” Emma pleaded quietly. “He was very different back then. We loved each other, we had a kid… He kept Liam and me shielded from his secret life. He told me the truth, but I don’t think I really understood what it actually meant.”

“… and when everything happened with your father, he helped us a lot.” Helen added, brushing my shoulder. “We don’t know what exactly he said to him, but he scared him well enough.”

My head was spinning. I didn’t know how to react, how to process what they just told me. Should I be mad with them? Mom was scared to death, I remember her, stepping in between dad and me, taking his beating so that I won’t have to.

Could I really blame her?

“Emma…” I whispered. “Who did this to you?”

“Honey, I…”

“Was it Liam?”

“No. No, he would never!..” she said, clearly insulted by my suggestion.

That hurt and offended expression on her face quickly morphed into a shameful one. She looked away and covered her eyes, breaking down in tears.

“I’m so sorry…” she shuddered. “S-so sorry for what what he did to you...”

I felt my back pressing itself into the wooden chair.

“…I wanted to visit you, so many times…” she sobbed, “…but I couldn’t look you in the eye… I couldn’t look either of you…”

“It’s okay.” I whispered, slumping over. “It’s alright, I understand, I…”

“No, it’s not!..” she exhaled, wiping her tears, drawing sharp breaths and struggling to look at me.

I crawled towards her and gave her a hug. She broke apart, throwing her arms around my back, entire body shaking and throbbing.

“Shush…” I whispered. “Nothing that your chocolate chip cookies won’t fix. It’s alright…”

“You won’t forgive him…” she lamented. “I know you won’t forgive him…”

She wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t cruel enough to voice that. Mom passed me a few more napkins and I helped Emma clean up. She calmed down, took a sip of mom’s signature bergamot tea and almost broke down in tears again, stuttering about how much she missed it.

“I always wondered why you refused to press charges. I was convinced you will do it…” Emma asked Helen, her grip shaking on the tea cup. “Were you afraid? Were you scared of Hank?”

“No.” mom replied right away, nodding towards me. “It was him. He asked me not to.”

“Oh God…” she moaned, covering her eyes in shame.

“But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified of what your husband could do...” Helen added, quietly.

Emma glanced at me, and I could sense the question on her mind.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Emma.” I explained. “That was the only reason.”

“He’s lying,” mom interrupted. “He didn’t want to get him in trouble.”

Helen’s voice got an octave lower, when she said it. I looked at her in slight disbelief.

“No. That’s not true.” I objected, hearing my own voice breaking.

“Don’t do this, Dylan,” mom said, striking me down with her painfully perceptive gaze. “Don’t lie.”

I heard the sound of my clenched jaw cracking in my ears.

“Do you think you know me that well?” I asked mom, barely holding my own tears now. “You two just see right through me, huh?”

“Dylan, I-” Emma started, but I cut her off.

“Your son is the worst thing that ever happened to me.” I said, looking her straight in the eye. “You can both pretend like you know me, but you really don’t. Sure, I loved him, I won’t deny it anymore. I’m tired of keeping a secret that was so obvious that even Liam wasn’t that impressed. But I’m so sick of trying to convince people that three years of daily beating and two hospitalizations aren’t enough to kill that love. It’s enough. It’s gone, I ripped it out root and stem. There’s nothing left, trust me.”

“Bullshit.” mom spat out in defiance. “Go feed that crap to someone who didn’t raise you.”

I dropped my head on my hands and desperately tried to stop tears.

“He’s changed.” Emma whispered.

“Don’t even try this, Emma.” mom spoke coldly.

“I swear.” she pushed on. “I thought I’d lost him, I don’t know what Hank did to him, how he got him to be this way, but he’s fighting it…”

“Oh no…” I said. “No-no-no-no… We’re not blaming uncle Hank on what happened to him. Daddy didn’t brain-wash him, he didn’t join a cult, didn’t have a brain tumor, it wasn’t his meningitis… I spent years rationalizing, been through all of these already, and the truth is very dull - it’s just the way he is.”

“Dylan, he…”

“I don’t care what you think about his transformation, Emma. I’m sorry, I’m not going to take away your hope, but please don’t push it - coz I am done hoping.”

She went quiet.

“I’m afraid of what he’ll do if he finds out.” Emma spoke after a few moments of deafening silence. “He can’t see me like this. He’ll go after him.”

“After whom?” I asked, feeling like the slowest person in the room. “Who did this to you?”

The look that she gave me left that question without the need for an answer.

“It was uncle Hank.” I whispered, affirmatively, answering myself.

“Yes.” she nodded in shame. “We’ve been having troubles. He’s cheating on me, I confronted him and asked for a divorce.”

“When?”

“Today.”

“Where’s Liam? How could he let that happen!”

“He’s away. We sent him for a ski trip with Mark last week.”

Would you look at that… I guess rich folks could get predictable.

“Too bored with school?” I asked with a smirk, that I instantly regretted.

“Too hurt.” she returned, glancing at me with uncomfortable depth in her gaze.

I swallowed hard. She knew. Was he stupid enough to tell her? His own mom? What a fucking sissy!

Mom furrowed her eyebrows, “What does that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I beat him down with a baseball bat at a party a few weeks ago. That’s why he’s hurt.”

They both looked at me with a stunned expression on their faces.

“Oh come on, you know I’m not that strong.” I hurried to put down the flames, turning to Emma. “I can assure you, his spleen is intact.”

“Oh… Okay.” she chirped, half-impressed.

Mom kept glaring at me, “This conversation isn’t over, young man.”

She turned to her friend and offered Emma to shelter with us.

“Come on, you should stay here.” Helen said, “At least for a few days, until we figure out what to do.”

“Helen, I don’t want to intrude.”

“I don’t give a damn,” mom cut her off. “I’m not leaving you like this. We’ll prepare you a guest room.”

We spent another half hour talking, trying to steer clear of barbed wires. I made a nasty joke about their shitty taste in abusive husbands and they both laughed hysterically. Humor really hit differently in stressful situations.

Mom was giving Emma ice packs and was soothing her with tea, it felt nice watching the two soul mates reconnect. It was painfully obvious how deeply they’ve missed each other. I wondered, for a second, if there was indeed anything that their friendship won’t withstand. Later in the night, Emma got a call from Liam. She tactfully stepped out to a different room, but I still overheard snippets of their conversation.

“Yes, honey, I’m alright. Just getting ready for bed. Are you feeling any better?” she asked. “No, it’s all right, don’t worry about it. Uh-huh. Yes, I think you can. I love you too. I know, honey. Try to be safe. Good night.”

I felt like I was in an alternate reality, for a second. In a reality, where last three years never happened. Where Liam was still gentle and sweet, treated his mom with love and respect. If only there was a way for me to find out what actually fucked him up so bad. If only there was an actual explanation out there, something that could help me make sense of what turned him into a fucking monster...

Speaking of monsters.

“Emma, before we go to bed…” I whispered quietly, when mom stepped out to the bathroom. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Of course, honey. Anything.”

I gathered all my mental strength and took a deep breath, unsure if I actually wanted to utter the question drilling a hole in the back of my head for the entire evening.

“What can you tell me about Reginald and Shanice Williams?”