It was an unusually cool Thursday morning in South Florida, and instead of wearing the satiny or sparkly sweat suits of most retired women, she was wearing a smart pale pink fitted jacket with a matching skirt that came to just above her knees. A crisp white blouse enhanced the string of pearls she wore around her neck and the matching earrings that dangled from her earlobes. Her short brown legs were tanned and the high heels she wore showcased her slim calves. She crossed one leg over the other, wrapping both manicured hands around one knee and asked Anthony if he was certain that he didn’t want a refreshment. When he declined, she leaned back and asked, “What exactly would you like to know?”
It took him almost thirty minutes to explain why he was there and during that time, she gave him her full attention. She didn’t interrupt once, and her expression didn’t change when he told her some of the more sordid parts of his story. However, he did detect a genuine hint of sadness whenever Christy’s name was mentioned.
She uncrossed her legs and scooted to the edge of the couch. “Your suspicions are absolutely correct. Van was most definitely the father of Christy’s child. He was a despicable human being. I never liked him and was never able to grasp what Bobbi saw in him. And I never thought he was good enough for Vivian. Christy’s mother wasn’t always a pill-popping drunk, you know? She was a bright and vibrant, beautiful young woman with a good future. But Bobbi had to stick her nose in. She did that. Always manipulating a situation to make it appear as if it was in the person’s best interest when it was solely in hers. She didn’t know how to mind her own beeswax. Never did.”
She missed the hint of a smile from Anthony. Now he knew where Christy had come up with that silly term.
She sat back and told him, “That’s some story you told me, Mr. Bear.
“Anthony,” he interrupted. “Call me Anthony.”
“Do you want me to tell you the parts that are right and the parts that are wrong, Anthony?”
“I want you to tell me everything,” he stated.
“Bobbi Bowen wasn’t just a savvy and intelligent businesswoman. She was a highly manipulative and vicious one as well. Success didn’t make her grateful. It only fueled her penchant for the need to win. It was almost as if she became addicted to control.” Valerie stared past Anthony. “And that need to control ultimately ruined her only child’s life. And I don’t need to tell you how that trickled down on to both Richard and Christy.”
“How did Bobbi ruin Vivian’s life?” Anthony asked.
“By denying her the only man Vivian ever loved.” Returning her gaze to Anthony, Valerie shifted in her chair and adjusted her jacket. “Vivian used to come to the dealership every day after school. When she was in her senior year, she started a romance with a mechanic. His name was Patrick Slade, and he was a nice young man. He used to bring her daisies, and when Bobbi caught wind of it, she fired him and forbade Vivian from seeing him.” She paused, and then added with a sneer, “She told Vivian that daisies were a poor man’s flower and she wouldn’t have it. It was all about appearances, and there was no way Bobbi Bowen’s daughter would end up with a lowly mechanic. Especially not after all her hard work to establish the successful dealerships. And, it just so happened that Bobbi was dealing with a little situation of her own at the time. She was having an affair with a young salesman, and people were starting to gossip. You know who I’m talking about, right?”
“Van?” Anthony asked.
Valerie nodded. “There was a big age difference. Bobbi preferred younger lovers, and we both know that Van did too. In other words, Bobbi was too old for his taste, but it was good for his career, so he was a more than willing participant.” She smoothed her hair. “It was then that she came up with a malicious and absurd plan. She convinced Van to marry her daughter, telling him that he only had to sleep with Vivian long enough to get her pregnant so Bobbi would have an heir. She convinced him they would still be lovers and she would continue to ensure his career advancement, but him marrying her daughter would kill two birds with one stone. It would stop the gossip about her and Van and ensure that Vivian didn’t marry her mechanic boyfriend.” Shaking her head, Valerie continued, “Van wooed Vivian for a short time, just long enough to make it look real, and Vivian, just coming off the heartbreak of losing her boyfriend, fell hard for him. Keep in mind, she had no idea about her mother’s dalliance, and if she’d heard the gossip, she probably convinced herself it wasn’t true.”
Valerie paused, and Anthony could see her eyes starting to mist over. “Vivian confided in me that Van never touched her again after she told him she was pregnant.” She sniffled and reached for a tissue box on the side table. “And so, Richard was born, Van and Bobbi’s affair eventually fizzled out, and poor Vivian was stuck with that sorry excuse for a human being.”
The implication of what Valerie had just revealed sent a jolt of shock through Anthony, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from interrupting.
She blew her nose before continuing. “Vivian was a good mother to Richard despite the charade of a marriage and Van’s numerous affairs.”
“Why didn’t she divorce him?” Anthony interrupted.
“Because Bobbi wouldn’t allow it. Like I said, it was all about keeping up appearances,” she continued, using air quotes for emphasis. “And besides, this was way before he started gambling and using drugs so he wasn’t blowing through the money. And as far as keeping it in his pants? Bobbi didn’t care one whit about whether he was cheating on Vivian. After all, she’d still slept with Van after he’d married her only child.”
Anthony rolled his eyes. He may have been a lot of things. A thief, a loan shark, a money launderer. A murderer. But one thing he wasn’t was disloyal to his woman. He caught a scent of something sweet and fresh and noticed a bowl of fruit on the kitchen table. It reminded him of sunshine. And Christy.
“Fast forward about five years and guess who shows back up at the dealerships looking for a job?” Before Anthony could answer, Valerie said, “Vivian’s first love. Patrick Slade. Enough time had passed, and nobody noticed or cared when he was rehired. And then it happened. Vivian showed up unexpectedly to pick up a new car for herself, and…”
“She saw Patrick,” Anthony concluded.
“And they started having an affair. And Vivian got pregnant,” Valerie continued.
“Christy isn’t Van Chapman’s daughter,” Anthony said in a calm voice. He looked relieved as he scrubbed his hand down his face.
“I’m sure you can guess the rest,” Valerie prodded. When Anthony didn’t reply, she added, “Van obviously knew Christy wasn’t his and Bobbi knew Van had stopped sleeping with Vivian years earlier. She ran the mechanic off again before any gossip started that the perfect family wasn’t exactly perfect.”
Anthony shook his head.
“And when Vivian should’ve been taking care of her son and new baby girl, she started self-medicating instead. And it only got sadder after that.” Valerie’s face was downcast and she dabbed at a corner of her eye. As if catching herself, she sniffled and sat up straighter. “Vivian stopped caring. Thank goodness she had the presence of mind to hire a nanny. Litzy loved those children. Especially Christy.”