Mind Made Up Pt. 10

Castillo. Day nine. Thursday.

It's not an easy situation to consider, despite what some might think. And it's such a simple thing too, locking one's door so no one gets in. Yesterday morning, I left the door unlocked. It led to a very pleasant surprise at the hands of Heather - my sister. And believe me, there's no complaining on my part, except for the fact I feel things may be going too far; or rather evolving too quickly.

I'm awoken by the sound of the doorknob being pulled. It doesn't give. She must have forgotten what I told her last night about locking my door. I know it's her and a big part of me wants to let her in. Or a small part. I close my eyes and let it pass. Not yet, I tell myself. I'm not ready for more.

About half and hour later, I rise from bed and check my messages. Several have come in from my many lovers and I tend to each of them; it takes a few minutes but it should tide them over for a time. I'm in high demand and there's a chance this might increase. At some point, I'll have to find a way to manage these relationships more efficiently. Right now, there's only so much I can do given all I have to accomplish. Especially today.

After hitting the showers, I head downstairs. Mom is her usual self in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, looking content. As I walk past her, I lean in and give her a hug from behind, then a kiss on the shoulder.

- Good morning, Grant.

- Mom.

I move to the fridge and grab some juice, then sit at the table. She brings the pancakes over.

- How was your night?

- Restful. Where's Heather?

- Still in her room, I think, she answers.

I get a doubt in my mind. Is Heather angry at me? It's doubtful, but maybe the fact that I locked my door caused her some stress. I'll check in on her after the meal.

- What are your plans for today?

I look up at my mom, wondering how much I can share of my plan. I decide that, for this at least, I can come forward.

- Going to the bank.

Her eyes turn inquisitive.

- I'm looking for a loan, mom.

- But why?

- So I can start my own... business.

Mom trusts me implicitly but I can tell that her curiosity is not sated. However, I don't feel that I can share more details with her right now. This

- Don't worry, mom. I'll fill you in on all the details once they're settled. The project is pending.

- Very well.

She sits down to eat with me. We chat about life. Eventually, she looks up with a more specific thought in mind.

- Did I tell you that Dolores is coming over this Saturday?

- I believe you did, yes.

- It's so wonderful. She hasn't been around in so long. I miss her... at least your father's passing has allowed me to reconnect with her.

- I'm so glad for you two, I reply. Dolores... loves you very much.

- I love her too.

The sentiment echoes with something in the back of my mind, unresolved thoughts, ideas that are similar to the ones I have about Heather and Stacey. I shut my eyes for a moment and focus on myself. The inevitability of it all strikes me silently; I internalize everything.

- ...you know I love you, mom?

- Of course I do, sweetie!

Her smile is warm.

- And I love you too! she adds.

- Anything to make you happy, mom. Anything... to make my family happy.

The meaning of the word 'family' is starting to shift in my mind. A result of my current condition or behavior? Maybe. But I can't help but feel that everyone I connect with - everyone with whom I am intimate - becomes an extension of myself. I can't think of them and their happiness without thinking of mine. Making them happy makes me happy too. Dolores reconnecting with my mother. Pauline's issues with her husband and Esther. Finding my half-sister, Irina's daughter. Helping rekindle the passion between Alice, my old teacher, and her husband. And helping to secure everyone's financial future...

It's all one package - one single goal stretching in many directions.

- Where are you? mom asks me.

I turn to her, returning to the present moment.

- In the future.

- And how is the future?

- Glorious.

She smiles at me as we finish breakfast.

When I knock at my sister's room's door, I get no immediate answer. I knock again. There's a shuffle of feet and movement towards the door. She opens, standing there in a loose tank top that allows me to see the edges of her breasts; she's also bottomless so I can see the relative pink between her legs. Her eyes are a bit glazed over from the sleepiness, but her smile widens when she sees me.

- ...morning, Heather.

- Morning, she replies.

We stand there in silence for a second or so.

- I left my door locked last night. I hope you understand, I tell her.

- Don't worry, Grant.

She grabs my hand.

- There's no expectation or anything. I hit a locked door, I turned around.

- Did I wake you when I knocked? I ask her.

- No. I was just lounging.

Her instinct is to pull me into her room; I choose not to let her at this time. She doesn't insist.

- ...is there something you want? I ask her.

Her voice is hesitant, but not because she doesn't know what she wants, or because she thinks it's wrong. She hesitates, I think, because she's waiting for my input. I hold back a sigh. I need her to take the initiative and it seems like she won't, at this moment. In fact, I know she won't, because they generally don't until I give them permission.

That's a problem. At least, it is for me, at this moment.

I let go of her hand.

- I have to head out. But tomorrow, Heather... tomorrow, you and mom and me, and Stacey - she's coming back tomorrow, right?

- Right, Heather confirms.

- The four of us... will have a beach date. Does that sound nice?

- It does.

Her eyes tilt sideways, indicating she's deep in thought. I leave her on that. In fact, I leave the house altogether, after making a call for someone to meet me downtown.

WHEN WE ENTER THE BANK, Sally and myself head over to the front clerk who looks up at us in her professional manner.

- We're here to meet with a mortgage specialist, I tell her.

- Do you have an appointment?

- We do, Sally says.

She organized this herself; after all, as a real estate agent, she's familiar with the process and has the connections. She still can't believe she's agreed to this. All of it obviously bewilders her still - the visit to the million-dollar mansion, the wild sex we had there, the four-girl orgy she partook in yesterday - and yet, she fully accepts and invests in it. Chances are she'll be leaving her boyfriend. Not that I care. It is her choice entirely, as far as I am concerned. At least, I think it is.

We wait around for a few minutes, then are led to a closed office. Good. It works better that way. The man that greets us introduces himself as Kyle Rooney. He's in his mid-thirties, looks relatively athletic and an easy-going person. Him being a man only implies that sex won't be a factor in the negotiations (not like Lulu and Elena the previous day!) - at least as far as I'm concerned. Sally has all the papers and I barely have to talk, at least while she explains to him my goal.

- A loan on that house? the man quips, unsure if he heard correctly.

- Yes, I insist. It's what I want.

The man is puzzled. It doesn't make sense to loan such an amount to a man in my position. And it's more complicated than just getting him to agree. Even if he signs off on it, the bank director won't. And it might be stopped higher up as well, like the FCC, or some other regulatory agency which I can't reach and therefore affect. There's a fine line that needs to be walked here - Sally's given him the facts; I have to play the other game.

- Kyle, I turn to him. This is important to me.

- I understand, Mr. Hammond. I truly do. But what you're asking for is beyond what's allowed within the bank's rules.

I have to get him onboard.

- Kyle, listen to me. I need that loan. And I think you can make it happen.

I see his mind racing; of course, I've won him over with my power but that doesn't mean he can change the rules of the game. I insist on the fact that I won't be alone in paying back the loan, that there will be others, that we will be living and paying for it with our shared incomes and that it will be sufficient. Sally has even crunched some numbers. But despite my reassurances, his mind can't find a loophole to exploit without breaking the law - and despite his desire to help me, the fear of losing his job prevents him from investigating illegal options.

- Well, he argues, you do have someone offering collateral. It's a start, but...

Lulu had Elena forward a formal document to Sally with respect to the endorsement; apparently, it's not sufficient given the amount of money involved and the price of the home.

- Do you have any other ideas? I ask him.

- Well...

Kyle is on my side and his mind races again. I look at Sally beside me. She's focused, all professional.

- I'll be personally investing my own finances, she tells the clerk.

- That's fine and good, he replies. But how much money are we talking about?

They exchange amounts; it's not nearly enough and we knew that, but I suppose every bit of information helps.

- If everyone involved could sign up and be on the potential mortgage, Kyle suggests. Your name alone doesn't carry much... monetary weight

That's not feasible to me. I don't want anyone but me to officially invest in this. Maybe it's pride on my part but I can't see the people I'll be living with taking the financial risk that goes along with this odd social experiment. The problem is literally capital - I don't have enough.

Mind you, I could probably get some, if I were being selfish. I could walk up to people, ask them to give me money, and I'd probably get rich quick. Such is the power of suggestion I seem to hold over people. I mean, even this reasonable man at the bank is trying to accommodate my unreasonable deal. And it is, as unlikely as me become a Don Juan overnight, just like my dad was.

My dad. The awareness hits me hard. Castillo is a small town and there's only one bank. One branch.

- Listen, I interject. I'd like to ask about another topic.

- Of course.

- You've been working here for many years?

- Specifically twelve. Why?

I pull out my phone and retrieve a picture of my father.

- Do you know this customer?

He stares at it and smiles.

- I do, yes.

- Was he a customer here?

The clerk smiles.

- Oh! I remember him well. He was a great customer... great person too.

His words are unsurprising.

- I'm... his son. Grant.

- Oh! Lovely to meet you. Yes... Hammond. I hadn't made the connection.

- May I pry into my father's activities at the bank? You know he died recently, right?

- Yes, I heard about the news. Condolences.

- Thank you.

Sally is looking me inquisitively, wondering where this line of questioning is headed. I visually ask her to indulge me; of course she will.

- Do you know if my father... kept a secret account of his earnings?

My question stumps him. I elaborate.

- We met with the executor last week and were given some of his items. But most of the money he supposedly earned is, well, nowhere to be found. It could really help in this.

- Well, if it wasn't in his will...

- Could you check, please?

- I certainly can, he replies eagerly.

He rises, leaving us alone in his office, to go inquire with someone higher up on the food chain. I provide Sally with an explanation at that time.

- My father was... like me. Good with people and with money.

- I see.

- If he has hidden savings, then we may yet achieve our plan.

- You think he was rich? she asks.

- I honestly don't know. But... maybe.

It would seem odd that the money locked in the bank would not be part of the will, but given my father's proclivities, I'm not going to speculate against it. I can see how setting money aside could be helpful. I also consider the fact that I know he helped pay for Irina's house and Jessie's education; he also helped Dolores out if I recall. He needed to have money stashed somewhere. For all I know, because I was given the ring, he may have wanted me to have the money. Or maybe it should go to my mom. Either way, finding out is the right call.

It takes several minutes for Kyle to return; his face doesn't seem hopeful.

- And?

- Well, he mumbles, I... looked up your father's name in our system and. There is a... safety deposit box in his name.

- There is? Excellent?

- Except... well... you can't access it.

I stare at him; I could force him to give me access but I decide against it. Besides, it feels like it's not a legal issue.

- Why not?

- Well, two reasons. There's a note attached to it, first of all. Only two people can access it. Actually, your name is there.

- It is? Good. But what's the issue?

- Well, the stipulation states that it can only be accessed by two individuals. But they must both be present. It's... unusual but... that's what it says.

I'm dumbfounded but I carry on with the obvious question.

- Who's the other person?

- Her name is Jessie Landers.

I shut my eyes and sigh: my missing half-sister.

- You don't know what that is, right? I ask him.

- I have no idea. I'm so sorry.

Sally can sense my frustration; her hand goes to my shoulder.

- Thank you, Kyle, I reply. Listen, get the paperwork started. I am fairly certain that once I find this... Jessie... everything will resolve itself.

- Very well, he complies.

Moments later, we are out the door and in the street. Sally grabs my hand.

- What's wrong?

- Where do I start? I tell her.

I need to confide in someone so I decide to share that part of the story with her, and how Jessie's mother asked me to find her daughter, and how Jessie is my half-sister. Sally is stunned at the revelation.

- Essentially, my project relies on finding someone who has been missing for... weeks now? Months? Since January.

- Maybe I can help? Sally asks.

- That would be great. Listen, I'm no detective. I don't have the foggiest idea how to find her!

Sally ponders this as I admit my limits.

- Well, I don't have any personal skills in that but I can access some files through my contacts. I could look into this.

- It would be helpful, thanks. Won't hold it against you if you don't.

She smiles, and leans up to kiss me.

- Will you be alright? Do you need me for some... stress relief?

I giggle.

- I'll be fine. But thank you.

I hug her tight.

- It's weird, Sally. You know... I... I love you, right?

- Aww... love you too, silly! she replies. Your presence makes me all warm inside.

- And you don't mind that I love other people as well?

- Why would I be jealous? Maybe if you didn't love me, I might be but - you know.

I nod.

- I know. Can I ask... what you plan to do about your boyfriend?

- Well, I'm not sure. He's not great but he's not a monster either. Haven't made up my mind.

- Well, whatever you decide, I'll have your back.

- I know you will. And I will... do my best to track your half-sister... Jessie Landers, right?

- Right.

We hug, kiss again, then part ways. As fun as sex would have been, I want to be alone right now. I walk around the block for a moment, thinking of nothing in particular.

It hits me: this is the first real hurdle I've faced since I fell under the power of the ring. It's not earth-shattering but it is an obstacle to my path. Everything was so smooth, so easy. I can't help but somehow resent that half-sister whom I've never met. I shouldn't. I don't think she is deliberately working against me. How could she? She doesn't even know who I am really or even met me? But the frustration hits hard, making me angsty.

I let out an incoherent sigh, which catches the attention of passers-by. I apologize with a nod and walk on. I just head home, for lunch.

SITTING AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, I'm lost in thought when my mom calls me out.

- Penny for your thoughts? she asks.

I lift my eyes to hers; her face is just so full of love it relaxes me.

- Can I... ask... about... something personal, mom?

- I have no secrets from my children, she replies. Well... mostly.

She giggles; her laughter makes me smile. I take advantage of the fact that Heather isn't here - she went out for lunch, possibly reconnecting with former school friends or so I believe.

- It's about... Jessie Landers.

My mom looks briefly away.

- What about... her? she asks.

- I don't want to make you uncomfortable, mom.

- It's alright, Grant. I suppose... you have a right to ask.

I nod and carry on.

- Did you ever meet her?

- I did not. Well, not since she was a baby.

- But you did meet her mother, right?

- Well I knew her from Church, she reminds me.

- Right.

Mom smiles.

- We've talked about this, remember? It's not like I was the one who forced your father to go. That was social pressure.

- I remember. But... how can I put this simply?

I've held on to that secret long enough.

- Dad... wanted me to find her. Jessie.

- Oh.

Mom stares at me with interest.

- He left me a letter, I explain.

I don't talk about the ring. Mom smiles.

- Well, you were always his favorite.

- Stop!

- It's true. He was always afraid of getting close to his daughters.

I choose not to comment there; I can only imagine how he must have felt when they became teenagers and started becoming women. I can't even imagine wanting to be in that situation. And in that sense, I'm proud of my dad for this - he was aware of his power and seemingly chose to use it strictly in a mature way - with only mature people.

I'm wondering what might have happened when they both became adults but that thought quickly runs away.

- And in that letter, he asked you to find her? my mother inquires further.

- He did. He said he wanted us to connect. To... well, be a family. Maybe. If she wants to.

- And have you found her?

- I haven't, I admit. In fact, I even contacted her mother but... Jessie left without a word as to her whereabouts.

The fact I spoke to Irina does not seem to bother my mother; I'm relieved.

- So I was wondering if you knew anything about her? I ask.

- Sadly, I don't, she tells me.

Her mind pauses.

- Wait a minute. Follow me.

She rises; I go after her. We head up the stairs, to the attic. She reaches up to pull open the access door. As she does so, I can't help but stare at her figure from behind, gorgeous hips, beautiful legs, strong back.

- Up here, she says.

We climb up into the attic. It's a low-hanging storage area so we have to crouch down. Mom gets in front of me on all fours; the suggestion of the image is intense but I focus on other things.

- Over here.

I crawl beside her to a large trunk.

- This was your father's.

- It was?

- I just recalled... well, given your father's passing, the emotions, all of it. When your father moved out, so many years ago, he just left with the clothes on his back. All this stuff was put in storage. I didn't bother looking at it. And to be honest, I completely forgot about it.

- But you just remembered? I inquire.

- Well... it was around the time of the affair, with Irina, Jessie, so...

I nod. She lifts open the trunk. There's a gazillion items in there.

- We should take it out of here, I tell my mom.

- I'll help you bring it down.

- Let's put it... in my room, I tell her.

She agrees. It takes a few minutes to do so but we manage the operation with success. My mother then sits on my bed and I kneel beside the trunk and start taking stuff out. Her eyes linger between me and the items I take out and, once in a while, she drops a comment on said item.

- That old thing? Your father bought that at a flea market!

I smile and continue looking. Even if I find nothing relevant, it's still an interesting experiment, and I get to spend time with my mom. I don't see her as often as I could, with all my running (and fooling) around. But this moment is nice.