The Family Secret Read online

  Paula wiped tears from her eyes as she looked around the ten thousand square foot sitting room. Every furniture, artifact, artwork, and item had an invisible Andrew Lindsay imprint on them. In that moment, she admitted to herself that it was truly her parents’ home and she couldn’t be around so many reminders of them. She made a mental note to move out of the house soon, even if for a short while until she healed a little. Paula knew she could never truly heal but she also had a life ahead to live, although she may have to drift through its dark and gloomy corners alone.

  She went upstairs, took a long nap, and by the time she woke up, it was four o’ clock. When she entered the kitchen, Megan was standing at the sink washing dishes.

  “How was your nap?” she inquired.

  She’d finally taken the depression medication the doctor had given her. “I slept so hard; I was drooling. I feel like I can sleep for days. I’m SOOO tired, Megan.”

  “I’ll tend to the things around here for now, so sleep as much as you like,” Megan responded, not sure if her niece’s tiredness was a result of the drug or whether she was starting to give up on life. If it was the latter, Megan couldn’t blame the poor girl, being orphaned and thrust into the tumultuous world ahead at a young age. She made a silent promise to herself that she would stick around until Paula got the necessary care she needed. They only had each other.

  “Thanks.”

  The timer on the dryer buzzed.

  “I started the laundry,” Megan smiled.

  “Oh, Aunt Megan. Someone would’ve come for that. Or I could’ve done it myself.”

  “I know. But since you were resting, I figured I’d help out.”

  “Thanks.” Paula headed for the laundry room. A stack of her father’s dirty shirts lay on top of the dryer. She lifted one to her nose and sniffed. His rich scent smothered the fabric. Her heart ached as she placed his clothing in the washer. She had no idea what she was going to do with his clothing; or his shoes; or his jewelry. She considered selling the jewelries or giving them away, but she hadn’t made any decisions yet. Perhaps, she would keep them around, she thought.

  Paula stared far into the distance and said absent-mindedly, “I wonder why Phillip didn’t come to the funeral. Was he much of a gentleman to be present at a burial?”

  “I don’t think he’s much of a gentleman,” Megan replied in a cold tone.

  Sensing the hint of distaste in her aunt’s tone, Paula suddenly whipped her head sideways and asked, “What does that mean?”

  “There’s something you should know, but I’m not sure this is the right time to say it,” Megan warned warily.

  Paula chuckled sadly and responded, “From your tone, I sense bad news coming. Believe me, now is the perfect time to tell. I’m numb to all bullshit right now.”

  “Very well dear,” Megan tugged at Paula’s hand and led her over to the dining room table, where they both sat. “There have been talks going around our social circle about Phillip. He’s not as good as he portrays. My friend Alice told me something, but she doesn’t want me to tell you. But you’re my family, and I think you need to know.”

  “Know what?” she asked, dreading the answer.

  A look of despair was on Megan’s face, “According to Alice, Phillip is having an affair with her.”

  Paula’s heart grappled, “Alice Morrison?”

  “Yes, that Alice. The same one who was in charge of the charity event where you met Phillip.”

  “That explains a lot. Why he couldn’t come to the burial, he is a spineless piece of shit,” a sudden realization hit her.

  “I’m so sorry, Paula. You’re such a beautiful woman and shouldn’t have to go through this. You’ll find somebody else.”

  “I don’t want anybody else. Why is the world so hell-bent on making life unbearable for me right now?” she sobbed. “I’m all alone.”

  Megan started crying. She wrapped her arms around Paula’s shoulders, “You’re not alone, Paula. I’m here for you,” she said caressing her back.

  Paula’s shoulders shook up and down as she wept. The pain of all she’s lost tugged at her.

  Megan gripped Paula’s shoulders and stared into her eyes, “This is not your fault, love. You’re a great, beautiful person. Phillip is just a tiny speck in all that’s happening around us right now and you shouldn’t let that put you down.”

  Nodding, Paula laid her head on Megan’s shoulder, “Please hold me, Aunt Megan. Hold me.”

  Ding dong, the doorbell rang. All Paula wanted to do was sleep. Not have visitors.

  “My head is killing me. I don’t feel like company.”

  “Would you like for me to get rid of whoever it is?”

  “No. I’ll get it,” Paula stood and headed for the door. When she opened the door, a young man wearing a delivery agency uniform was standing on her porch, holding a paper bag in his hands. “Yes?” Paula queried.

  “I’m here to make a delivery. Are you Paula Lindsay?” the man asked.

  “Yes, I am,” Paula replied skeptically. “What’s this for?”

  In response, the delivery man handed Paula the package. She slightly opened the paper bag and peered into it. She was surprised to see a bouquet of white lilies in it; her favorite flower. She pulled it out of the package and dropped the paper bag onto the floor. Taped to the side of the flowers was a little note written in a familiar handwriting. Paula read the note herself, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there. The negotiations took longer than I anticipated. I’ll make it up to you when I’m back. Sorry, baby. Signed, Phillip.”

  Paula hissed loudly in disgust as the delivery man shoved a mobile tablet in her face as he said, “Ma’am, you have to sign this.”

  “No, I definitely do not. Send the flowers back to that asshole,” Paula cried with rage in her eyes, thrusting the flowers into the delivery man’s chest as she turned back inside and slammed the door. “That inconsiderate, selfish bastard,” she scoffed.

  “Who was at the door?” Megan asked upon her return to the kitchen.

  “A delivery man. Philip sent some flowers.”

  “Oh.”

  Paula sat back down. How was she ever going to get rid of this overwhelming feeling of sorrow? Fisting her chin, tears flowed from her eyes. “I miss mom and dad so much. Oh, Aunty Megan…why me? Why me?”

  “I’m here for you, Paula. I love you, darling.”

  “Will you hold me again?”

  When Megan extended her arms to Paula, she laid her head on her aunt’s shoulder and cried.

  • • •

  The BMW M3 screeched to a halt as Paula parked in front of the Birch Coffee House. The New York breeze blew her hair gently across her face as she stepped out of the car. She pondered whether to lock the car doors or not as she wouldn’t be staying for long. She decided against locking it, and she stepped briskly over the curb and into the building. Birch offers delicious and well-brewed beverages, and Paula often visited the place whenever she wanted some time alone to enjoy the serene atmosphere or simply to grab her favorite. Most people in that part of town were not the type to be scanning business or financial newspapers. No one’s ever recognized her in here. She was grateful for the peace and quiet the coffee house provided her away from the spotlight. At Birch’s, she was just another face in the bustling crowd.

  On this particular occasion, Paula wasn’t at Birch’s to enjoy a cup of double espresso; she was here to make something right. Over the course of the past two weeks since her father’s funeral, she had been grief-stricken and with it came some terrifying nightmares. Many nights, she would wake up screaming at the top of her lungs as her voice ricocheted off the walls, waking the only other occupant in the house. Megan would come running into the room, bewildered, as she tried to pacify her niece. That had been the routine, and Paula came to the conclusion that to get over her fears, she had to ma
ke some changes in her life. The first change she made was huge; she moved out of the family house and into a condo she owned on the other side of town. Surprisingly, Aunt Megan who knew enough about fighting personal demons also chose to move in with her niece and help her back on her feet.

  However, even at Paula’s spacious new abode, she was still haunted by nightmares. In her waking moments, she walked around like an empty husk, looking for an entity to fill her up. Megan made many attempts to cheer her up, but it had little effect on Paula. In the last print of Forbes magazine, Paula Lindsay was listed as the “Youngest Billionaire in New York.” She had the wealth and power that older men even in her family business only dreamed of, yet she still felt her soul slowly slipping away.

  Her aunt looked on feeling helpless; not knowing how to get her niece back to being herself. Nothing she did or said was working. Frustrated, Megan had told Paula she needed to get a grip or else everything her parents had worked for would fall apart. She knew her aunt was right. She needed to get the recoverable pieces of herself back. This was why she had driven to Birch Coffee House – to retrieve a sizeable piece of herself which was in the callous hands of Phillip.

  Standing in the doorway, Paula glanced around the brightly lit room. Spotting her target sitting alone at a table at the other end of the room, she made a B-line towards him. She hadn’t seen him since before the burial and she hadn’t come for excuses, apologies, or condolences.

  Phillip smiled as Paula stood before him. “Even in her sadness, she still looked stunning,” Phillip admitted in his mind. He started to speak, “I am…”

  Paula shifted her gaze downwards and raised a hand, cutting off his statement, “You know how I feel about you.”

  “I do, sweetheart.” He paused. Continuing, he said, “But even if I know how you feel, hearing you say it matters to me too. It matters a lot.” Phillip’s speech had a hint of uneasiness.

  Paula defended her posture, “Well, I used to tell you; all the time, in fact.”

  “You don’t... Paula, even if I said, ‘I love you’, all I received was a smile from you. Give it to me straight; You’ve never said ‘I love you too’ back, and I’m not even going to get into how low the chances are of you being the first one to say it. You never talk about the future either – OUR future.”

  “People proclaim a lot of things they never truly mean, nor ever will. People like you, player.”

  Phillip was becoming angry. “And what if sometimes it does? Is it too much to ask whether you love me or not? A verbal confirmation, not something I just know deep inside?”

  Somehow Paula didn’t feel like she was in as much control. She stood quietly, looking down, not saying a word.

  Now Phillip was feeling pissed off, and in part, rejected. “It’s a simple question, Paula. Do you love me?”

  Again, she remained silent.

  Phillip was shattered. It was the confirmation he didn’t need. “I guess that’s my answer. I’m not really hungry anymore, I want to go. Let’s go.”

  Paula looked down at his arm outstretched and a sudden burst of rage rushed through her. “Phillip, fuck you!!!”

  “What?” Phillip gasped.

  Paula was now fuming. “You’re a piece of shit and I regret the time and effort I’ve spent on trying to make this work with you.”

  “Why are you so angry? What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?” Phillip pleaded, looking genuinely sorry.

  Paula chuckled, imagining how many times he must have played the sorry card before. It wasn’t going to work with her this time. She cleared her throat, raised her head to look him dead in the eyes, “Did you think I wasn’t going to find out about your little games?”

  Instantly, Phillip’s jaw dropped as his eyes widened with the realization that Paula knew the truth. His features became colder as he gritted his teeth. He waited for the verdict.

  Paula shook her head in disgust, “Game over asshole. Goodbye, and go to hell!”

  Without waiting for a response, she turned around and walked out of the coffee shop. Another chapter closed, she thought as she sighed heavily. She could feel the hefty weight on her shoulder slightly lifted already as she opened her car door. However, as she inserted the key in the ignition, doubt started to creep into her. “What’s wrong with me?” she thumped the steering wheel. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

  3.

  Nightmares and Consultation

  The middle section of The Millwork Building, where executive offices for the Labor Unions had once existed had become prime real estate for business professionals. These were now the offices for accountants, attorneys, and medical experts. It was on the sixth floor of the building where Doctor Jose Sanchez claimed a luxurious workspace for his office. He shared the space with two other psychologists and had the largest of the three office rooms. They all shared a receptionist.

  Entering the reception area, the light dimmed dramatically from the sky lit windows of the retail levels. The leather sofas in the waiting area met each other in the corner with a cedar end table between them, with some magazines scattered about. At the other end of the room is a large, polished oak desk where the receptionist was seated. A plaque with her name on it sat in front of the computer monitor where she was ticking away at her keyboard, transcribing appointment notes.

  Michelle Simmons worked the desk, taking appointments, answering phones, doing transcription and filing. If ever a doctor had an exceptionally good assistant, she was it. Doctor Sanchez was very appreciative of Michelle, and often told her that he didn’t know how the practice would survive without her. He made certain she was compensated with great pay, good health and dental benefits, and plenty of vacation time every year. She worked hard, was attentive to detail, and wasn’t afraid to correct any mistakes, financial or otherwise, that came across her sight. As soon as the door opened, Michelle paused whatever she was doing to welcome and assist whichever old or new client had walked in.

  “Good morning, how can I help you?”

  Paula pulled out the business card from her pocket and reluctantly placed it on the desk in front of Michelle. “I got this from my family medical counselor, Dr. Parsons. I’ve been referred for treatment.” She spoke nervously, tapping her finger on Doctor Sanchez’s name on the card. “He said that I should see this guy.”

  Michelle could sense Paula’s trepidation. “You’re in luck; he’s actually had a cancellation this morning, so he’s available to do an intake session with you,” she smiled.

  Michelle opened the top drawer on her desk and flipped through a few files, producing some forms that she placed on a clipboard and handed to Megan. “Please take a seat while I notify the doctor. I’ll need you to fill these out, while you wait.”

  “Thanks,” Paula said with a now calm voice. Michelle’s warmth had done the trick.

  Michelle stood up from the desk and went back into the treatment area while the aunt and niece went to take a seat. Paula began to fill out the paperwork while Megan sat calmly inspecting the room. Paula wasn’t happy about being there and had serious doubts that this wouldn’t end any differently than her previous attempts at seeing a psychologist.

  “Aunt Megan, do you think this guy will be any better than any of the others?” Paula asked with the doubts creeping into her voice. “Do you think that he can help me?”

  Megan stopped what she was doing and looked at her niece. “It says he takes an original approach to psychology, so maybe.” Megan tried to answer as optimistically as she could, “I don’t know; all you can do is give it your best shot.”

  “I hope so,” Paula whispered. Though she had protested the counseling sessions, she began to hope beyond reason that this might be the one who would really help her. “I really do.”

  When Michelle came back, she held the door open for Paula. “Doctor Sanchez will see you now,” Michelle announced. “This way.”
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  Paula got up from the couch, with Megan hot on her heels, but Michelle stopped her at the door. “I’m sorry, but the doctor specifically requests that all friends and families are to remain in the waiting area for the duration of the session,” Michelle demanded in a slightly snooty tone.

  Megan’s defenses shot up like a bottle rocket on the Fourth of July. “But I’m her family!” Megan protested, putting on her aggressive stance. “She can’t go in there without me!”

  “I’m sorry,” Michelle responded sincerely, trying to calm Megan down. “I really am, but it’s the doctor’s policy to work one on one with the patient without third-party interruption.”

  Megan didn’t like the policy, but she unwillingly accepted it. Paula was not so accepting.

  “I’d like if Aunt Megan could be present in there with me!” Paula said, slightly elevated and panicked, “I need you!” Of all the psychologists that Paula had seen, this was the only time that she couldn’t have her aunt by her side. For Paula, it wasn’t also that she wanted her aunt there for her own peace of mind, but after her aunt’s overdose, she didn’t want to leave Megan to her own devices for too long. Paula felt as if she was her aunt’s keeper as much as she was hers, and decided that the burden of Megan’s sobriety was as much hers to bear as it was her aunt’s.

  “It’s okay sweetheart,” Megan surrendered, trying to reassure her niece as best as she could. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.” She reached out for her niece and gave her a quick hug, letting her know that she would be there for her. “You’ll be alright; do you understand?”

  Paula nodded her head but was still very nervous about it. She was somewhat spooked about having to go into the office without her aunt present; after all, she had been there for every counseling session she had ever had. Her aunt being absent was the unknown quantity. She turned to walk down the corridor to her meeting with Doctor Sanchez.