The Curse of the Scots Ch. 07

I repeated my answer, "Yes, I know her well," I glanced around their living room. It was like a shrine. There were pictures of Caprice, or I should say Lauren everywhere. I decided to wait till the old lady came in with the coffee. I didn't have to wait long. She came with a tray. The tray and stuff was actually an old tea set. It held a full cup of coffee, some cream, and a few sugar cubes on a separate dish.

She looked at me, "I forgot to ask what you liked with your coffee."

I took the cup off the tray and poured in some cream. Again I said, "I'm Cayden McLeish. I'm from the lower Eastern Shore of Maryland. Have you ever been there?"

The old man answered, "Ocean City, we've been to Ocean City," he looked pained, "Please tell us about our daughter."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt or upset you. I can only imagine what you're going through; what you've been through."

They both just nodded. The old man was visibly shaking; he looked like he was ready to cry. His hands were like palsied. I wondered if he had MS or something. His hair was gray and real thin.

"Mr. Fischer, Lauren, or Caprice as we first came to know her, isn't far from here. She's with my ex-wife and my daughter," I looked at the old lady and tried to smile, "You saw her the other day. She told us. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer your daughter has been through a great deal. She's suffered terribly," I looked back at the old lady, "When she saw you she panicked. She feels guilty, and she's afraid. That's partly why I'm here. Before I go get her I'd like to tell you what I know about her story. Would you please let me do that?"

The old man was trembling, "Who is she to you?"

I cupped my hands in front of my chest, "She's someone I met this past Palm Sunday. Actually I bought her. Since then I've come to love her. I guess you could say I've fallen in love with her. That's why I'm here. She's scared. I love her. Won't you please let me tell you what I know?"

The old lady was very quietly weeping, "Yes please," the old man looked grey. I began my story, "I'd gone to Pennsylvania for a card game. Your daughter was serving. She was a prostitute. She was supposed to tell them my down cards; she got them wrong, and they were going to murder her. I offered to buy her, and they agreed. I brought her home and..."

From there I went on and told them what I knew; how she been passed from pimp to pimp, how'd she been misused, and how she'd suffered. I told them about my time with her, how she bonded with my ex-wife and daughter, how she'd survived her years of torment and become a steady fixture in my home town. I told them how she'd earned the respect and love of dozens of people, how she attended our church, and how she'd even joined the choir. I told them what a wonderful person she was, and how much I loved her. I also told them about the veneer of toughness she'd first evinced and how she'd come to shed it. I was especially sure to explain to them how frail my ex-wife and I believed she was, and how concerned we were that her reunion here might trip her up.

It took me nearly two hours to get it all out. By the time I'd finished I was crying. I told them, "So you see we're kind of scared. She's been through so much, but she's really fragile right now. She's afraid you might not love her. What I mean is that she's really scared. I mean terrified. She feels guilty. We've all got to be careful. We love her. I love her. I know you two love her. I'm just afraid we all might lose her; she's skirting the edge."

The old man just sat there. I thought he was going to have a stroke or something. The old lady was weeping, but she had a better grip. She asked me, "What do you think we should do? What do you want us to do?"

I took a sip of my coffee. I looked around the living room, "First I'd put things back to as close to the way they were before she left. This place looks like a shrine. I think it will scare her to death. Just make it look like it was twelve years ago. Then don't get all dressed up or anything. Stay casual and try to relax."

I watched them. I think the old man was catching on. He reminded me of Caprice, or Lauren I guess. He looked like someone who needed to be busy. I told them, "I'd like to bring her over tonight. Fix one of her favorite foods. I mean don't fix her absolute favorite, you know don't got way overboard, but maybe something like her second favorite. Do you have any spare bedrooms? Angie, that's my wife, Emily my daughter, and I think we should all stay here tonight."

They looked back and forth at each other. The old man said, "We have one spare bedroom."

"OK, Angie and Emily can sleep in there. I'll start out here on the sofa," I added, "but don't be surprised if Caprice, I mean Lauren, asks me to sleep in her room with her," I held up my left hand, "it wouldn't be that kind of sleep. I mean I'd be there only if she asked me, and then only so she won't be afraid. Believe I would never abuse your hospitality," then I added a little sweetener, "Who knows she might want her mom with her."

I couldn't seem to shut up. Imagine old laconic Cayden not being able to stop talking. I mean here I was explaining and persuading and soothing and all sorts of considerate stuff. I added, "I know this has been awful for you; it's been awful for her too, but it's almost over."

The old man just kept crying. The old lady was crying too. I started to cry as well. I'd been crying anyway. We all ended up in the center of the living room hugging one another. I said, "God I already love you people, but I don't even know your names."

Through her tears the old lady murmured, "This is Evan and I'm Katie."

I blubbered, "Katie, Jesus. I mean Jesus, what a great name," I stumbled and fumbled, "I mean Katie's a great name."

It took us a while, but we finally got it together, I got their home phone number, and told them I'd call before we left. They asked where we were staying. I told them the Hampton Inn but please don't try to call or come over. I told them I wanted to get this right.

Then just before I left the old man hammered me, he asked, "Would you like to see her room?"

I was stupid; I didn't give it a thought. I answered, "Sure."

The old people walked me back to her room, the room where she grew up. I was overwhelmed. I mean swept away.; caught up in a whirl pool and just pulled out to sea. Baby dolls, Barbies, stuffed animals, wall posters, a half a wall of books-all really good stuff too, everything you'd expect to find in a girl's room. They had her high school yearbooks.

I saw countless pictures; all pictures highlighting a child's transition from toddler to beautiful young woman. They had a picture of her beside a bicycle; a Christmas tree was in the background. She looked maybe six; she'd gotten a bike for Christmas, a red one, a Shelby. Jesus it was breathtaking; she'd been a Brownie, a Girl Scout. In one picture she was wearing a tutu; her arms were out front in one of those circle things, fingertips just touching. There was a picture of her from high school; she'd been Homecoming Queen. She'd been a majorette! Holy Christ Almighty Lauren had been her graduating class's salutatorian! It was awful; she was so beautiful, so innocent, so pure! I couldn't stand it; I slumped down on her bed.

That's when I saw it; the most devastating thing of all. She'd had a teddy bear. Fuck every kid had a fucking teddy bear. I went over and picked it up. It was all worn and frayed. Most of the fur had been worn off. One of its eyes was partly out. This I knew was her greatest treasure; this was the thing she cuddled with when she was a little girl, nothing could match it.

I remembered when I was a little boy. I'd had a teddy bear too. I loved that fucking hunk of dirty cloth. I remembered how once I'd misbehaved. I think I was seven at the time. My grandmother, I mean great grandmother, told me I had to be punished. She told me to go get the one thing I prized above everything else. Aunt Maggie wasn't there that day. Of course I went and got my teddy. The old woman took my teddy bear and she stuffed it in the woodstove. There was a fire burning. She opened the flue and made me watch as the fire consumed my little bear. I never forgave her for that. I looked at these two old people; I knew they would have never put Lauren's teddy in a fucking fire.

Jesus Caprice had owned a teddy bear. I cried. What a stupid fuck I was; crying over a teddy bear. I couldn't stand it another minute. We left her room. I felt so sorry for these people. Christ, I don't know why, I started to feel sorry for myself. She was their life, their whole everything. Without her they'd been empty, completely empty for twelve years!

Finally I kissed Katie's cheek, and then I shook Evan's hand. As I left I just couldn't talk, I whispered, "Just a little longer." They both started crying again. I hugged them both again. Then I hurried to Lauren's car, got in, and started back to the Hampton Inn. I kept thinking, 'Jesus that was tough, but damn, the toughest part was still to come'.

++++++++++

When I got back to the Inn I saw the girls hadn't returned so I sat down in the restaurant and ordered a sandwich and an iced tea. I couldn't come to grips with all the things that were swirling around in my head.

First, I couldn't quite fathom who it was I was in Rochester to protect. I'd met a woman named Caprice. She'd been a hardnosed prostitute, a survivor, a tough cookie. Over time she'd become someone else; a kind and decent person, a person people in my hometown had grown to respect and care about. Today when I was at her parent's I got glimpses of yet another person; an innocent young girl, a girl named Lauren, someone who'd lived an almost idyllic life but who'd made a horrific mistake. Somehow I knew the woman who we'd take to the Fischer's tonight would metamorphose again.

That was the second thing. Would the former whore Caprice and the one time innocent Lauren congeal into someone who'd still see me the same way? I broke into a cold sweat; would my efforts at helping this woman, a woman I loved beyond all understanding; see me as a part of something she'd rather not remember. By helping her would I be losing her? It scared me shitless.

I thought about my high school English teachers. There was my senior year teacher, a woman named Mrs. Wickwire; she had a fetish for Dickens. Christ we read 'Great Expectations', 'Oliver Twist', and damn it we had to read 'A Tale of Two Cities'. That last one was a real ball buster. I mean I really got into the Charles Darnay-Sydney Carton thing. I remember thinking what an asshole Carton was. All he had to do was sit back and let the French put an end to Darnay and he, that is Carton, would get the girl and everything that went with her, but what did the fucked up fool do? The stupid shit switched places. Darnay walked and Carton got the axe. Well hadn't I been doing the same thing?

If I had folded up the police report; kept Caprice's past in the past I'd have been home free. I'd have had the girl of my dreams, I'd have had my ex-wife, and I'd have had my daughter, but no, not me, I had to be the noble fucking asshole.

Jesus Fucking H. Christ! Tonight I'd walk the steps, Caprice would die, Lauren would be reborn, and she'd look at me and be reminded only of her twelve years of suffering. I had nobody to blame but myself! I'd become Sydney God damn mother fucking Carton!

The thought of what I'd done made me want to break something, but there was nothing I could do about it. Not now, not anymore. I'd have to play the charade out to the end. All the worst, all the worst things about my life and my upbringing were coming back to haunt me. I just bet that mean son of a bitch, my long dead father, and that woman I'd never met, my damned dead abortion wanting mother, and my hateful great grandmother they were all in hell somewhere laughing at me. Fuck! Who was I to think, even for a moment, that I was entitled to be happy, I mean truly happy?

I reflected on that old Meatloaf song 'Two out of Three ain't Bad'. Two out of three wasn't bad; it was awful! I wanted all three, all three damn it! I knew I wasn't going to get it. Yeah shit; the Lord giveth and the Lord...well damn God! God damn God! I hate God!

I looked through the restaurant window and saw the Lexus pull up. The girls got out. I quaffed down the last of my, by then, tepid tea. I wished then that I smoked or liked whiskey. If I smoked I could've smooshed out a butt. If I drank I could have downed the last of a whiskey. Not me, I'd be sober as a judge. Yeah, I'd be going to the guillotine all bright eyed and bushy tailed, no drug would ease my pain.

++++++++++

I met the girls on the sidewalk. Emily ran up to me, "Guess what I got?"

"I don't know; what'd you get honey?"

"I got a whole bunch of clothes!"

I grinned, "Now wait; did you get a bunch, a big bunch, or a whole big bunch?"

She laughed, "I guess a whole big bunch."

I laughed too. I hadn't lost everything. I grinned at Lauren. I thought I better start thinking and calling her Lauren from now, "How'd you do?"

She smiled pensively, "I bought a dress, a purse, and shoes for this evening."

I looked at Angie, "And you?"

She shrugged, "I got a headache; a whole big headache."

"Oops, sorry," was my reply.

We went up to our room, or better, the girls went up while I lugged up a dozen bags.

++++++++++

Once we got inside I gave them the low down. I looked at Lauren, "I met your mom and dad. They're really nice people, but they're scared. They've really missed you Lauren. It's been terrible for them. Right now they're just afraid you won't love them anymore."

I could see her eyes widen. I wondered if she thought they might be afraid she wouldn't want them. I added, "We're going to eat and stay overnight at their house."

Lauren was sweating, "Then what?"

"I don't know; we'll decide tomorrow."

She got real wide eyed, "You won't leave me?"

I gave her my sternest look, "Never, not a chance in hell."

"You promise?"

"I promise. Lauren I'll never leave you," I think that might have calmed her down a little.

Angie took her hand, "We need you. He needs you. I need you," she pointed to Emily, "She needs you."

Emily hadn't been listening; she started tearing into the packages, "Come here Dad; let me show you what I got."

'Gee,' I thought; 'I went from Daddy to Dad in five minutes.'

We all got dressed and made ready for the drive to the Fischer's. Angie wore a simple dark blue sheath. She dressed Emily in a cute little jumper. I changed into a pair of khakis and a blue button down. Lauren, I'm still trying to remember to call her Lauren, settled on a beige blouse and a pair of dark brown slacks; both went nicely with her brown loafers and dark brown clutch purse. She'd dabbed on a touch of makeup. I felt weak looking at her; she had the biggest greenest eyes, she had eyes like that Afghan girl who'd been on the cover of National Geographic.

We were ready; we got in the Lexus and took off. The drive only lasted about twenty-five minutes, but it seemed a lot longer. We got there. I pulled in and parked on the street. I got out and helped all the girls out.

Angie and Emily started straight for the front door. Lauren held back. I took her hand, "Come on sweetheart. You can do this," She looked scared. I was a little afraid she was going to run away. As we inched our way up the sidewalk; Angie and Emily first, me third, and Lauren hanging back hiding behind me someone opened the front door.

It was her mom. She stepped out on the small porch. She was in an old house dress she'd covered with an apron.

Lauren saw her and froze. Though it seemed like a year it was only a few seconds. Then Lauren let out her breath and murmured, "Oh mom."

The old lady had tears in her eyes. She sort of held out her arms and kind of clasped her hands together at the same time. I heard her when she said, "Tater tot."

Christ that got me. Tater tot must have been the pet name they used for her when she was a toddler. Lauren heard her and started walking then running toward her mom. She cried out, "Mom...mommy!"

They embraced right there on the porch. I looked at Angie. She felt the same way I did - utterly and completely overwhelmed.

There they were, mom and her little girl, hugging, and crying, and then kissing. Talk about a reunion, a homecoming. I never saw anything like it. There'd been a hell of a lot of tears lately, but when Lauren opened up it was like Niagara Falls.

Then her dad stepped out. Jesus, if the first sighting between mom and daughter was emotional, this was the 'mother of all reunions'. I thought they were all going to die. I thought I was going to die. I watched as mom and dad wrapped their arms around their daughter and led her inside. Lauren, Caprice, whoever, was utterly, I mean completely unrestrained. She was somebody's little girl all over again.

They'd completely forgotten about us. Angie, and Emily, and I were all left outside. Then, almost like we were an afterthought the old man stepped back and beckoned us in. Honestly, I didn't quite know what to do. Should we just leave? Should we go in? Tell the truth I was a little put off. Then Lauren came back out and took my arm and Angie's hand. She'd stopped crying, but tears were still running down her face. She led us inside.

We got inside and Lauren, still with her arm wrapped around me and her other hand holding Angie's said, "Mom, dad this is Angie and Cayden. They're my family."

She smiled at Emily who'd been kind of stunned by everything. Then she kissed Angie's cheek, "This is Angie. She's my sister," I caught that. She didn't say 'she's like my sister or she's sort of my sister, she said she's my sister', like she was the real thing. Well kick me in the balls; I guess she was. Then she leaned down and kissed Emily, "And this is Emily, and she's my little girl."

I was holding my breath. I was scared out of my wits. Was I Charles Darnay or was I Sydney Carton? That's when Lauren let go of Angie's hand, she stepped a little toward me, she took both my hands in hers and said, "And this is Cayden McLeish. He's this big dumb farmer who saved my life and made me fall in love with him," She smiled at her mom and dad, "He's going to marry me and then together we're going to make all your grandchildren."

I couldn't help it. The last several days had been so stressful. I'd just been crying with the Fischer's, and now this? I was Charles Darnay! I was Pip! I was Matt Damon! Brad Pitt just came in second! I was every good guy I'd ever read about in every old book Mrs. Wickwire ever made me read! I was the hero! I got the girl! I was the luckiest man alive! I cracked. I'd cried before, but this time...well...

I looked at Angie. She was smiling. She said, "Lauren and I talked about things earlier today while we were shopping. We figured it this way; I already have Emily, I know I have you. No matter who cuts the cards I have you. But Lauren loves you too. So we decided you should marry her," she grinned at Lauren and chuckled, "that way we get to keep her down on the farm." Yeah, we decided; you're big and dumb, and backward, and shy, and you certainly can't fight, but you're who we want. Both of us," she glanced down at Emily, "No I mean all three of us," She smiled back at me, "So you'll just have to build a bigger house."

I couldn't think of a thing to say. I just stood there like the big asshole I was and kept crying.

Lauren looked at her mom and dad. She'd weathered the storm. My Caprice was back! She was a strong one! She told her mom and dad, "We can't take care of you if you stay up here. You'll have to move. We'll build you a house across from ours. Mom, dad you're going to love it down there, but you'll have to pitch in. We'll need you to help with the babysitting and stuff because I plan on having lots of kids." She looked at me and winked, "You got a problem with that?"