Chapter 2:
Pharaoh’s Fundraiser
Banger’s Paradise swelled with London’s costumed elite, as the beer taps flowed non-stop. Reed nested in his mirrored perch; watching the patrons below with amusement. His preference of maintaining a low profile allowed the staff to be the public face of the establishment. Over the past few years, he raised his daughter, concocted new varieties of beer, and tended to Guardian affairs. He knew the beer stein that was his life threatened to overflow, and it was almost time for a drink.
He watched the dozens of couples entering the club; one in particular captured his attention. Their costumes were elaborately adorned and tauntingly revealing. He wondered if they designed by the same person responsible for the Banger’s staff uniforms. The petite woman wore a white harem-girl outfit. Her straight blonde hair moved harmoniously with the wispy veils flowing from her outfit. Her large bright, brown eyes appeared massive due to the thick black eyeliner she wore; he couldn’t help but think of Cleopatra. Her only other exposed body parts were her graceful hands and toned abdomen.
Reed watched as her companion placed his arm around her protectively. When he whispered in her ear, Reed could see a sparkle in her eyes as she laughed. Her companions tanned skin, cropped light-brown hair, and Egyptian warrior disguise made it appear born to the station; either that, or he enjoyed the outfit and makeup just a tad too much.
They passed through the elaborate archway leading toward Giza, but stopped. Much to Reed’s surprise, the female gazed at the one-way glass surrounding his office. He knew she smiled, by her glistening eyes. He wondered if she was looking at herself in the mirror approving her reflection, or if she knew what resided behind it.
Reed grabbed the two-way radio from his desk. “Hey Wraith, it’s time for the Pharaoh to make his entrance and start the first contest moving.”
“Do I really have to wear this frock?” replied the younger man’s southern drawl through the intercom. “I look ridiculous. Didn’t this thing come with a shirt of some type?”
“Perhaps, but I figured the more tattooed flesh you displayed, the more euros would end up in the donation sarcophagus at the end of the night. Besides, you know how the ladies admire your markings.”
“I hate you, you know that?”
“No you don’t, you’re an exhibitionist at heart. Now get moving. Pharaoh’s is due to make his grand entrance in less than a minute. I’m starting the official announcement in a second.”
Grabbing the microphone Reed snickered and began:
“Priests, warriors, concubines, Egyptians, Mayans, and lastly, Ladies and Gentlemen; we implore you all to kneel in reverence to Banger’s Paradise’s Great Pharaoh who will be joining us shortly. King Tattooankhamen, yes Tattooankhamen folks, as King Tutankhamen is currently occupied touring the world, sleeping through each royal appearance. Pharaoh Tattooankhamen, also known as everyone’s favorite bartender Wraith, ascended to the most hallowed station of Pharaoh this divine mid-day.
We invite you to commemorate his first public appearance with the ceremonial throwing of undergarments. The person who removes their undergarment and manages to snag it on the Pharaoh’s headdress shall reap the reward - an all expense paid evening for two in the Harems. Their visit will include a complimentary bottle of our own exclusive barley wine-spiced cider hybrid, Nectar of the Gods, a seven-course meal, and carefully selected entertainment. The great Tattooankhamen volunteered to assist the winner on hand-and-knee, as you once again re-secure the winning garment.
Those wishing to participate in the aforementioned spectacle proceed to the Grand Entranceway; all others can watch via video feed where they sit.”
Flicking a button, lively Arabic music echoed through the entire first floor as partygoers filled the main foyer. Thick golden ropes divided the entranceway, in preparation for the Pharaoh’s entrance through the double doors leading to the staff lounge. The doors opened and two rows of six men entered. Each wore a white shenti covering their male parts, and adorned with a formfitting lapis blue headpiece and thick gold-plated medallion across his bare chest. Stationing themselves along the golden barriers, they crouched onto one knee, bowing their heads with reverence. Everyone’s attention focused on the double oak doors, waiting for what was to come.
The pace of the music doubled, and a dozen voluptuous belly dancers entered, gyrating provocatively. Their hips shook to the music, taunting the patrons on the opposite side of the rope. When the music stopped suddenly, so did their dance. The girls held their poses until the processional music, announcing the impending arrival of the Pharaoh Tattooankhamen, began. Gracefully they bowed on either side of the doorway.
The beat of the processional drums intensified as Darius took his first step into the Grand Foyer. He wore the finest white linen shenti, adorned with colorful silk ribbons around his waist. Around his neck and covering his wrists and fingers were large golden pieces; each containing images of different Egyptian deities. His bare, hairless chest contained his first tattoo, a hollowed eight-pointed sun divided into four sections by a Celtic cross; each of those sections further divided in two by a wavy line signifying water. Up and down both his arms were assorted tattoos of the planets and stars, along with the image of his deceased parents. On his head sat the Pharaoh’s hat, which came to two tall side-by-side points. Capping off his outfit was a fake, black, braided beard, carefully woven into his natural reddish-blonde goatee, which Mel dyed black, along with the hair on his head a half hour earlier. The dark eyeliner made his blue eyes more pronounced, and adding to his exotic look.
When Darius took his first step into the room, the female patrons began issuing drunken catcalls, causing his cheeks to flush. Attempting to comport himself as regally, he stopped himself from bowing in acknowledgement as a Pharaoh bows to no man; instead he gave a stiff wave of his hand.
He was unprepared for the sudden barrage of undergarments heading in his direction. When they began striking his face, he groaned with disgust. Holding up a pair for the crowd to admire, he sighed realizing the massive pair of unwashed knickers appeared to be the property of an incontinent gorilla. As everyone laughed, the Pharaoh looked up toward the mirrored office, knowing he couldn’t see his friend but positive Reed was watching the proceedings with twisted amusement. He couldn’t resist lifting his hand into the air saluting him American-style as a golden-pouched thong hooked around said finger.
Shaking it off, Darius announced, “Pharaoh Tattooankhamen requests his subjects aim a bit higher as he prefers inhaling unsullied air.”
After a second barrage of knickers flew his way, a black lace thong took up residence on his headdress, and the crowd cheered. Two of the dancers escorted the winner before him. The leggy blonde Lisa stood before him, he sunk to one knee handing her the prize certificate and her discarded undergarment. Thankfully, she declined the standing offer of assistance returning the skimpy garment to its rightful place.
“The Pharaoh would like anyone interested to join him in the first dance of the night. Later in the evening, the ladies are invited to participate in the belly dancing competition. The winner is the one whom our panel of sacred priests deems to have pleased the Pharaoh most with their performance. The prize: a liter bottle of Divine Draught; plus our special assorted filled dates, or as we call them, drunken dates, and other special treats. These will be served while you are a special guest of the Pharaoh himself in the Harem.”
An hour later, as the festivities continued the staff hovered around refilling glasses and distributing hors d’oeuvres while guests danced and sang round them. Reed laughed as Wraith assumed the ceremonial golden throne as the song ended.
Dressed in a skimpy concubine outfit, Mel sat on his lap, announcing, “The Pharaoh must be satiated through dance, although I personally prefer other means. Those of the female persuasion interested in dancing for our illustrious leader, please line up near the door; all others, clear the dance floor.”
Out of the fifty women in the room, half-dozen lined up to dance for Wraith. He reviewed the line and thankful they were all reasonably attractive in their costumes.
There was Carole, the head checker at the organic grocer; followed by Inez, who worked in the advertising industry; then Lisa, who was working on her doctorate at Cambridge. All were dressed in revealing costumes, leaving little to his over-active imagination.
Next in line was a girl wearing an elegant white costume. Her brown eyes glistened with mischief and he couldn’t shake the sense of familiarity he felt toward her. Following her was a buxom redhead, who stared at him with a hungry look in her eyes that was unnerving. She regularly visited Banger’s over the past six months, and sat at the corner of the bar to flirt with him. During her visits, he struggled against staring at her rotting yellow teeth – tonight he thanked god for veils.
Last, was a brunette he wasn’t quite sure was a girl. He glanced at her veiled neck, which seemed to contain the familiar bump of an Adams apple; suddenly the redhead didn’t seem quite so appalling.
“Ladies and … well ladies,” continued Mel with a devious smirk at the brunette, “there are one or two simple rules with regard to the Pharaoh Tattooankhamun. Allow me to demonstrate the forbidden moves.” Turning to the DJ in the corner she ordered, “Maestro if you would be so kind … music please.”
Her hips matched the beat of the music, dancing seductively around the throne. Slowly she bent to whisper in his ear, causing him to shake his head negatively at her, laughing at her sheer nerve. Mel turned her back to him and bent backwards, her barely-secured breasts now inches from his chin. Running her hands through his hair, she slowly straightened, before kissing his lips.
“Rule number one,” she announced, “Do not kiss the Pharaoh.”
“Count me out then,” the redhead announced with a smirk.
They watched as Mel continued dancing around him, enticing him with her hands and hips. Slowly she positioned herself so her gyrating hips moved directly before his face.
“Rule number two: This is as close as you can get to Tattooankhamun. No touching.”
“Pity,” Lisa declared loudly.
“I agree,” Mel snickered as the music stopped. Turning to Wraith, she asked, “I don’t do it for you anymore, do I?”
He looked up at her, smiled and replied, “White paper, white paper, white paper” as the crowd laughed. “I’m twenty-one years old and as such, hormonally out of control. If you don’t do it for someone my age I think they should question their orientation.”
“Good you know flattery will get you everywhere,” she replied, turning back to the contestants. She had each of them reach into a large clothe pouch, to retrieve a numbered billiard ball. The dance order was, Lisa, followed by the woman in white, the redhead, Inez, Carole, culminating with Miss Adam’s Apple herself, Denise.
As Lisa approached Darius, she smiled shaking her hips to the beat. Her belly button held a blue gemstone attracting Darius’ attention as the audience hooted and howled along with her erotic movements.
His fixation on the gemstone was interrupted by Reed’s voice coming through his ear piece, asking, “What does she have a major case of belly button lint or did a dung beetle take up residence there?” causing Wraith to lose his regal composure and laugh aloud.
“What’s so funny?” Lisa asked unhappily.
“Reed is being … well… Reed,” he replied, knowing she would understand. She turned and glanced up at Reed’s sanctuary and with a smirk pushed her breasts together and taunted, “See what you are missing hiding away in your tower?”
The intercom activated and Reed’s response boomed through the club, “Honey I’ll call you when I make coffee later and I need cream.”
“I’ll hold you to that old man,” she retorted before kissing Darius’ cheek. “Don’t let that old goat sully your character.”
“And why not? Is it a task you wanted to reserve for yourself?”
“I see my request came a bit too late,” she laughed as he pulled her onto his lap.
“Too baaaaad!” Reed announced. “The winner and still champion: THE OLD GOAT!”
As Lisa returned to her table, the woman in white gracefully knelt before the Pharaoh, waiting for her music to begin. Her brown eyes stared into his. He knew her secrets lay hidden beneath dark eyeliner, soft lapis blue eye shadow and layered veils. Other than strategically placed opaque fabric, the remaining veils were transparent, revealing the curvy physique beneath.
“I am honored Mighty Pharaoh, for the privilege of pleasuring you,” she whispered with a soft Spanish accent. He swallowed nervously as the music started, and her hips followed. He watched, mesmerized by her brown eyes, as she gracefully moved her hands to within millimeters of his face. She allowed the veils to trace his rugged features causing his senses to tingle.
He could see the mischief in her eyes as her shoulders moved along with her hips. His gaze traveled downward, landing on her ample cleavage; with a gentle touch of her fingers, she brought his gaze back to her mirth-filled eyes.
The electricity between them was evident to the crowd, as they watched hypnotized. Smiling mischievously beneath her veils, she moved her cheek past his, millimeters separating their skin. She heard him gasp as a few strands of her hair tickled his face.
Chuckling softly, she scolded him with the same melodic Spanish accent, “Tsk, tsk, Wraith, like all men, you are a lustful stag. All the women here are someone’s daughters, shame on you. I know if any father saw you looking at their daughters the way you have been gazing at me they would sever more than just your hands. The thought of you as a eunuch would depress your female fan club… not to mention your admirers of the male persuasion.”
She lightly nibbled his earlobe, causing his sharp intake of breath, before locking eyes with him again. His senses reeled from the lingering scent of carnations and vanilla as she continued her provocative dance around him. She moved behind his throne, allowing her veils to caress his exposed skin.
The pace of the music intensified, her hips matching the feverish rhythm, all the while teasing him with her veils. With a final barrage of percussion, she ran her manicured nails down his body, sinking to her knees before him. He watched as she bent backward, touching her head to the floor moving her shoulders seductively. As the beat mellowed she gracefully eased her way up and when the music ended, her hands were resting on his bare knees.
As the applause died down the girl smiled and said, “I hope the offering of my dance pleased her worship, for it is all this humble servant has to offer her illustrious Pharaoh.”
“You’re perfect,” he whispered breathlessly.
“Thank you Great Pharaoh. Your kindness is greatly appreciated. Might I warn you that Denise is … how do you say in English … playing the Crying Game.”
“I figured that,” he replied with a smirk as she got to her feet, curtsied, then turned and ran toward the young man with whom she had arrived.
“Someone is smitten! Is it uncomfortable for you to sit down after that little vixen’s performance, or are you nervous about the prospect of getting up and sporting a Pharaoh-sized tent?” Reed’s taunting voice came through his ear piece. “She played you leaving you all hot and bothered. I haven’t seen you breathing this heavily since the elevators were out and you carted groceries up five flights of steps. It looks like we have ourselves a winner.”
Wraith glared up at his friend, even though he knew he couldn’t see him, was certain Reed would notice the venomous look in his eyes.
“We can always have the bloke thrown out, giving you a clear path to the bird,” Reed laughed. “I felt like a dirty old man just watching her and I’m only in my early forties.” After a moment of silence he added, “Let’s see whose next, shall we?”
They watched the redhead step forward, and Reed laughed, commenting, “Oh look, a free viewing of Fatal Attraction followed by the Crying Game. I really enjoy the cinema.”
The remaining contestants took their turns dancing and Darius couldn’t help but glance in the direction of the woman in white. She sat on her companions lap, enveloped in his arms as they whispered to each other. He watched as she ran her fingers through his hair, while he held her glass so she could sip her drink through a long straw without removing her veil.
When the final contestant began dancing, his attention returned to the competition as an unexpected body part brushed against his arm. He had little doubt it wasn’t a part of an anatomically correct female. He stood up, exclaiming, “I move to disqualify Miss Denise on the grounds that his … her surgery has yet to take place.”
“Party pooper,” Denise retorted with a deep, masculine voice causing the crowd to laugh. They watched as Denise pulled a business card from her bustier and handed it to the Pharaoh, whispering, “Surgery is scheduled for the fall, by spring I’ll be ready for you big boy. Call me.”
Wraith handed the card to Mel who grinned maniacally at him. “Priceless! Might I have everyone’s attention please,” she announced. “Before I announce the winner I must regrettably announce two disqualifications. First for obvious reasons, Denise, whom I am happy to say will qualify next year; and the woman in white, who is related to an employee of this club thereby making her ineligible. I promised her that she could dance and taunt the pharaoh, which she did quite well. Would anyone care to take part in a Pharaoh’s tent sale?”
Everyone’s gaze turned to the woman in white, who bowed to the crowd as Darius blushed.
“With lightning fast hips the winner is … Carole!” announced Mel as the crowd began to cheer. Once the prize presented, she added, “For the gentleman and ladies who are interested in sport, the wager area is open in the Henge room. For those gentlemen not interested in wagering, there is a dart throwing competition on the second level. The Pharaoh will be taking a break and return after a cold shower.”
Darius overheard Mel raving to the woman in whitein the distance about her performance. A short time later, it was clear the two had conspired to embarrass him. When her male companion headed to the bar for refills, Darius grabbed the opportunity and approached the two giggling females.
“So are you two going to let me in on the joke?”
The two women glanced at each other and laughed; finally Mel offered, “You’re a dolt, you know that. Look at her and tell me you don’t recognize who she is?”
Wraith looked into those brown eyes and his mind wandered immediately back to the inappropriate thoughts he had while she danced. Reed spared him further embarrassment by joining them.
“His mind is always in the gutter Miss, please ignore him, or indulge him,” Reed exclaimed.
“Bloody hell you two are out of your minds,” Mel laughed tugging the veil from the other woman’s smiling face.
“Evie?” Wraith stammered in shock, every impure thought he had left him at the speed of sound.
“Evie?” Reed muttered as the girl jumped into his arms.
“Hi Daddy! SURPRISE! I got back early,” she exclaimed, the fake Spanish accent gone, replaced with a Scottish one that rivaled her fathers.
Hugging his daughter tightly with one arm, Reed used his free hand to grab a nearby tablecloth and cover her from the shoulders down.
“You’re too young to go prancing around dressed like this … and that dance … bloody hell … where did you learn to do that? Scratch that question, I don’t want to know. Just go upstairs and get some acceptable clothes on.”
“In this environment these are acceptable clothes,” she countered.
“Not for my seventeen year old daughter.”
“I’ll be eighteen next week,” she retorted as her companion returned with two drinks in hand.
“I don’t care. I am your father and you will listen to me. If I ever see you all touchy feely with a boy again I’ll lock you in your room until you hit retirement age.”
“And you,” Reed continued, turning his attention to her companion, “if you’ve set one finger, or any other body part out of line with my under-aged daughter so help me I’ll thrash you within an inch of your life.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too sir,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. “You are much more laid back than Evie told me you would be.”
“Father, Darius, this is my friend Matthew Tilson. We were on the team together.”
“A pleasure,” Matthew said.
“Everyone calls him Reed,” Evie informed her friend.
“You may address me as Mr. Reed,” he snipped, recalling the image of the young man’s hands wrapped around his only child, “and you need to learn to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Da, ENOUGH!” exclaimed Evie in shock. She saw the same pained, over-protective look he got in his eyes anytime her father didn’t approve of something around him, and she almost wanted to laugh. “Be nice for me please,” she added wrapping her arms around her father’s waist, gazing at him adoringly.
“Oh, alright! I missed you Evie, but if he defiled you in any way, shape or form all bets are off.”
“Just stop it! Why don’t you trust me to make good decisions anymore?”
“Because you weren’t under his thumb for the past eighteen months and neither he nor Wraith got to make all of your decisions for you,” replied Mel almost scolding the two. “You look like someone who was released from a convent and went hog wild. I whole-heartedly approve.”
“Don’t you have drinks to serve Mel?” Reed snapped.
“No, I am the personal assistant to the Pharaoh tonight. So Evie, we’ll have to find some time alone later for all the girly talk without the overly sensitive ears of the men around.”
The conflict within Darius would have been funny, if he didn’t look lost as he struggled to accept that the woman in white Evie. A year-and-a-half away from home did her good. The chunky, over-protected, shy child was gone; standing before them was a person that exuded confident womanhood out of every pore. Mel knew, Tilson was the catalyst for change, and as anticipated, they were unwelcome by the two men in her life.
“Now that I’ve gotten you home in one piece, I think it’s time for me to leave you with your family so you can face the inquisition,” Matthew commented. “I’m going to do the same with mine.”
“We’ll meet for lunch in a few days?”
“Yes you clingy little thing, and I’ll call you frequently on your mobile to taunt you.”
The two men watched as Evie walked Tilson to the exit. After chatting for a moment, he kissed her good night, playfully swatting her bottom as Reed and Darius cringed.
“Evie’s growing up and you two had better get used to it,” Mel snickered, “so sod off.”
“Upstairs now,” Reed ordered his daughter without a hint of humor in his voice.“Yes sir.”
Taking Evie’s arm, Reed led her to the elevator. The ascent seemed to take forever, tension palpable between them. She had seen him like this many times over the years, yet his fury was never aimed at her. Her mother, on the other hand, took Reed’s tirades for what they were, a control freak venting before giving up the control he perceived himself to hold over a given situation.
When the lift doors opened, she saw a large envelope on reception table adorned with a large step pyramid and the words: Welcome to the Team! More than anything, she wanted to open her letter.
Once they reached the living room, he ordered her to sit as he closed the French doors behind them. Pacing like a caged lion, he demanded, “I want to know exactly what your relationship is with that boy.”
“He’s my friend.”
“Then why did he have his hands all over you? Moreover, why did he kiss you like that and touch your backside? What were you doing sitting on his lap? You seemed awfully comfortable with him if he were just your friend.”
“That’s just how he is.”
“That isn’t normal. You are only seventeen-years-old and as such, those of the male persuasion should keep their hands off. Guardian or not, he’s not good enough for my only daughter. Until you have sufficiently matured, I will decide with whom you spend time.”
“I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I’m not a child anymore and the best thing I have ever done was spend out from under your controlling thumb.”
“You’re just a child, and children need to be managed. Look at the decisions you made while away! I told your mother we shouldn’t let you go, but in the end I stupidly gave in, now look. You’re dressed like a whore and acting like one.”
By the hurt look in her eyes, he knew he allowed his temper to take him too far. To his surprise, rage replaced the hurt as she reacted in kind.
“Do you think you are the only one with a temper? Well newsflash Reed, unlike mum, who allows you to blow off steam via your temper, I will not. You seem to have all these notions of what I did and didn’t do while away, but you haven’t a bloody clue of the truth. You always said mum’s family sheltered her, not allowing her to experience life; yet even though you disapproved, you’ve repeated the mistake. The only difference being you allowed me to live when it was what you desired and in your own thick head, you convinced yourself that I had freedom. In addition, you are laboring under the delusion that I’ve become some stupid harlot and that just isn’t the case either. I’m telling you my relationship with Matthew isn’t sexual in nature and that alone should be sufficient. I’ve never given you any reason to distrust me, yet you do.”
“Sometimes actions speak louder than words.”
“And sometimes you are an idiot!” He could see the tears in her defiant eyes as she headed to the door. “Fine then, I’ll become what you believe I already am” before slamming the door behind her.
Evie retreated to the deck on top of Bangers. Over the years, she spent a great deal of time under the moonlight when she needed to organize her thoughts. Stretched out on the large marble table, she thought of the disagreement with her father. As her tears fell, she clutched the open envelope against her chest.
She didn’t hear the door open nearby, or see the young man staring at her from a distance. To Darius, lying there, she looked like a sacrificial offering to the gods. When he finally called her name, she jumped in shock.
“Go away. I want to be alone.”
“Too bad. Come on, be a good girl, sit up and talk to me.” Nudging her over, he sat beside her.
“There isn’t anything to talk about.”
She listened as Darius explained her father’s regrets and proceeded to laugh at Reed’s stunned face when realization struck that her temperament matched his own. When she relaxed, he added, “You’re a tease.”
Laughing, she offered, “I won thirty euros from Mel betting that I could get you all hot and bothered.”
“Like that wasn’t a safe bet. For the record, I am aware, and I mean completely aware that you are officially all grown up.”
When he asked about Matthew Tilson suspiciously, she replied, “Let’s get one thing straight; Matthew is my friend, nothing more. Neither of us fit in with the others, so we spent all of our time together. If it wasn’t for Matthew, I would have come home after two days because I was home sick. Besides, you know me, I needed someone to protect me from bugs, and Matthew fit the bill nicely.”
“Bugs?”
“Our second night there my tent was over-run by a spider beetle and you know how much I adore any type of insect; I’d rather visit the dentist. Needless to say, I almost wet my pants when that beastie was looking me in the eye; so Matthew allowed me to stay in his tent overnight.”
“A spider beetle? Was it just the one slimy creature?”
“Oh stuff it. It was a large one,” she retorted, giving him a shove off the tabletop.
“Just for that you’ll have to dance for me again,” he snickered.
“Never! Matthew provided a few sips of courage in the form of Devine Draught; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to do it the first time. Besides, this time no one is offering me thirty euros to leave you with a Pharaoh’s tent.”
“You’ve become positively dreadful. I think I might like the new you; you’re less of a prudish bore now.”
“You know, for a rugged manly man, you blush easily.”
They chatted a while longer before he encouraged her to mend fences with her father. Telling her to make herself appear younger and more innocent, he gave her a half-hearted shove toward the stairwell.
Darius laid back on the table, his thoughts returning to the days before she left for Japan. Back then, he knew that there was more to his feelings for the then sixteen-year-old. He felt guilty, as Reed had taken him in five years earlier, treating him as a son. Even though Darius missed Evie terribly when she left for Japan, part of him felt relieved.
He was unprepared for the sight of her when she returned. He hadn’t anticipated the dramatic change in her, or the physical effect she had on him. He knew she was out of bounds; yielding to this temptation would be the ultimate betrayal of Reed.
Evie knocked on her fathers’ office door, entering without waiting for his response. She had washed up and changed into a pair of her old pajamas and robe. Her eyes were back to their natural gold-flecked blue, throwing out her latest pair of disposable brown contact lenses.
“Can we talk Da?”
She watched as he turned to face her. He seemed to have aged ten years in the short time she had been in Japan.
“I’m sorry Evie.”
“Me too,” she replied hugging him with all her might, once again reassuring him that she hadn’t done he would be ashamed of while away.
“I … Well I just thought you would be ten years old forever. Hell that’s what I wanted. I look at you now and you look just like your grandmother Magda, and it scares me.”
“Why Da?”
“Because I want you to have a better life than she had, or that your mum had growing up. I probably didn’t go about it the proper way, but then I hadn’t a clue as to what normal was either. Your grandparents took Gage and I in off the street when we were teenagers, just like we did with Darius.”
“Did you date anyone while I was gone? You promised you would.”
“There wasn’t time. Your mum, Nigel and I spent a great deal of time following up on leads we received concerning Maureen. Unfortunately, none of them panned out.”
“You miss mum as much as I do, don’t you?” she whispered.
“Of course I do. I wanted nothing more than for us all to be a normal, boring, uneventful family, Darius included.”
“Then why can’t we? Why don’t you push her harder?”
“Call it too much bloody pride but after two solid years of trying, I guess I gave up. I’m pathetic, I know. She wants you and Darius in her life. I on the other hand, am persona non grata. She’s made that abundantly clear. I just wish I knew what I did to muck it all up, but I’m at a loss.”
“Did you ever consider that you didn’t do anything wrong?”
“Your mother never does anything without a good reason, so don’t get angry at her. I assure you it’s my fault.”
I encourage you to email me with your reviews, AM Gomez
Thank you for taking the time to read this sample of my first original work!
| Cingular Phones |