Ending with Forever (25 page)

“Yes. He’s very good to her from what she’s told me. He welcomed her almost instantly.”

“Does Francine know where her other son is?”

Jane appears uneasy, avoiding my eyes. Her hands are fidgety as her body shies away. Obviously she knows, but I don’t think she’s going to give me the answer. “I…I can’t give you that information. You’ll have to ask Francine.” I was right. Her lips are sealed tight like an untampered lid of a glass jar. “Don’t be surprised if she refuses to tell you,” she adds.

“What floor is she on and what’s her room number?” I request. I have to get to the bottom of this twisted mystery or it’s going to drive me insane.

“She’s on the fourth floor in room 444,” Jane volunteers without hesitation. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I swore to her that I wouldn’t say anything.”

“No worries. A promise is a promise. I respect your loyalty to your friend. And by the way, my real name is Lillian not Lucy. It’s a long story that I’ll have to tell you another time.”

She smiles with curious, narrowing eyes and tells me, “I’m intrigued and anxious to hear your story. Thanks again for stopping by. You’re a sweetheart. Gabby adores you to pieces and can’t stop talking about you.”

“You’re welcome and I adore her, too. Please give her a kiss for me. I don’t want to wake her.”

“I sure will,” she agrees.

C
losing the door behind me, I stand outside Gabby’s room troubled and baffled in the most confusing way. I need a diagram to figure out how to unscramble that chaos. One thing’s for sure, Wes Montgomery is the common factor that connects everyone together in this complex equation. Is he a good guy or a bad guy? I don’t know, but I know who does. I dig into my little shoulder purse to pull out my phone and touch the screen to dial Andrew’s number.

“Hey, cutie. What’s up?” he answers.

“Did I get you at a good time?” I ask before bombarding him with all my questions.

“I always have time for you, Lillian,” he replies. I hear chopping and lively Latin music in the background. He must be preparing food for tonight’s dinner party while his feet and hips dance to the energetic beat. “Do you need something?”

“Yes. I’m at BGH and just left Gabby’s room.”

“How’s she doing?” he checks and then rattles prepping instructions to Stewart. “Not too much or it’ll be too hot,” he suggests.

“Good.”

“Praise the Lord,” he rejoices in a singing voice. “Stewie, the drugs are working for Gabby,” he shares. Stewart celebrates along with him. I can picture them doing the happy dance together.

“Andrew,” I interrupt, ending their merriment. “What can you tell me about Wesley Montgomery?”

“Huh? What? Where did that come from?” He sounds as if I just slapped him on the back of his head with my off the subject inquiry.

“I can’t get in to the details now. Can you just give me a quick lowdown on him?” I insist desperately, rushing him.

“What do you want to know?”

“Is he a good person?”

“Yes. Stewie has a lot of respect for him. They’re really tight. Wes is nothing like his father. Right, Stew?” he speaks to me and Stewart both. “He has a really big heart.”

“They’re cousins, right?” I confirm.

“Yes. Why are you asking me about Wes?”

I ignore his question and continue talking. “Did you know that Wes just hooked up with his biological mother who happens to be Francine Mann?”

“No. I did not. And who’s Francine?”

“She’s Gabby’s healthcare representative.”

“Holy shit! What a small world!” he yells through the phone. “That’s unbelievable.” I can hear Stewart mumbling in the background. He’s probably wondering what all the excitement is about.

“That’s not all. Wes has a twin brother and Francine is suffering from cancer in her spine. She’s here at BGH. The kicker is she doesn’t want me or Carson to know anything about it.”

“Hold on. That’s a lot of info to process from two sentences. Let me get this straight. Wes is a twin and Francine has cancer but she doesn’t want you to know. Why not?” he inquires perplexed in a high pitch tone.

“I know. Right? I asked myself the same question,” I tell him. “It doesn’t make any sense to me unless she’s hiding something from us.”

“What could it be though?” Andrew ponders out loud.

“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out. I’m walking to her room as we speak.”

“Lillian, why does trouble follow you wherever you go, cutie?”

“I have no idea.”

“Be careful,” he advises me.

“I will. I’ll call you when I get my answers.” I end our conversation before entering the elevator to the fourth floor.

Why are hospital layouts so confusing? Every hallway looks identical to me no matter which direction I turn. I flag down a short, young nurse in scrubs with a cancer-ribbon print to ask her if I’m heading in the right direction for room 444 since I haven’t seen a sign for it. She smiles and tells me I need to go past the nurse’s station and then it’ll be on my left. I thank her and proceed to Francine’s room with a growing stir in my chest. How will she react to my meddling? Is this really any of my business? It isn’t, but I’m driven by some unknown obligation. I can’t understand my desperation to figure this all out until I see Bridgette with
Carson
exiting the room that I’m looking for. Jealousy is the first emotion I feel and then confusion follows. I don’t get it. There’s nowhere to hide. They see me right away, stopping me in my tracks. The closer they approach, the better of a view I get of
Carson
. He looks everything like Carson, but he’s not my Carson. I know my lover better than I know myself. This man’s astringent scent is nothing like Carson’s heady, velvety aroma that I crave and ingest greedily every chance I get. His face is mysteriously hidden behind his goatee and his hair is wavier and darker. Always at the most inopportune time, my phone rings and vibrates in my purse, but I’m too distracted to see who my caller is.

“Hi, Lillian. You look good. How are you doing?” Bridgette perks up, appearing surprised to see me here. The man who looks like Carson stares at me as his mind wanders distantly. He seems preoccupied and troubled by something personal.

“Hi, Bridgette. I’m fine now. Thanks for asking,” I answer. “How odd to run into you here.” In denim and a low scoop neck sweater rather than her stuffy business suit, she doesn’t look as conceited and unbearable.

“Um…yes, we were just visiting a…friend,” she tells me in a manner that makes me believe she isn’t being completely truthful.

“You know Francine? How?” I pry without reservation.

Avoiding my question she introduces me to the man standing next to her instead. “This is Wes, Lillian.”

“Hi,” he exhales softly, shaking off his stupor.

His name hits me like a ton of bricks—hard and overwhelmingly. Finally, I meet Wesley Montgomery, the man connected to everyone, including Carson. How can anyone deny they’re twins? Just look at them. I don’t need a DNA test to confirm they’re brothers.
Oh my God! Carson was adopted
. How do I tell him this news—or do I? Is it my place? What will it do to his relationship with Kat and Michael? How will he react? My knees buckle under me, swaying me to fall against the wall. They both reach their arms out to me.

“Are you okay, Lil?” they ask, concerned.

“You’re Carson’s brother, aren’t you?” I gasp, still in shock as I stare at his familiar face. He nods to confirm my hunch. “And Francine is your biological mother.” He nods again, showing only sincerity in his hazel eyes. “Then why doesn’t she want Carson to know she has cancer?”

“She loves us. She doesn’t want to take away his happiness,” Wes explains simply while disagreeing with Francine’s reasoning with the shake of his head.

“But he can help her,” I argue.

“She won’t budge. We’ve tried,” Wes stresses, appearing more frustrated as he speaks.

“Lillian, you can convince Carson to give Francine the new bone drug,” Bridgette persuades. “He’ll do anything you ask of him. I know this to be true. He loves you insanely. He was a body without a soul when he discovered you were missing.”

“What are you asking of me?”

“We’re asking you to help Francine,” Bridgette replies.

“I’ll do my best, but I can’t lie to him. I swore to myself that I won’t keep anything from him.”

“I understand,” Bridgette tells me.

“So we’re cleared. This isn’t some kind of ploy to get Carson’s new drug.” I tell Wes bluntly. “Your adopted father is a Montgomery and so are you. He has no integrity. I almost died because of him.” I make my grudge clearly known. “He enabled Bianca to plot against me, to kill me.” My body shudders, recalling the fragmented details of that horrific night.

“I’m sorry for your suffering, Lillian. My father is a greedy man who has no conscience or goodness in him. I’m not him or will I ever be him. I only want the drug to save my mother. That’s my only intention,” he expresses earnestly. “Please believe me.”

“Okay. I believe you,” I assure him with a pat on his shoulder. “I’ll do what I can to convince Carson, but the drug hasn’t officially been approved. He might not budge.”

“That’s all we can ask of you,” Bridgette tells me.

“Bridgette, this is off the subject. How did you know what Carson was like when I was missing?”

“We were in his office when he received the news of your disappearance,” she answers, looking nervously over at Wes.

“Oh. I see. How coincidental,” I mention like I’m suspicious. I can’t help myself. I don’t really know them. Can I trust them?

“Lillian, I understand why you have doubts. I’d have a very hard time myself,” Wes encourages. “I imagine it can’t be easy for you to look at me and not think of what my father did to you. If this is any consolation for you, he was going to have me take the fall for his corruption after everything is said and done,” he grates through his stiffened jaw.

“Damn. You’re his son. He would do that to you?” I ask, appalled. 

“In a heartbeat and without batting his eyes,” he spits begrudgingly. “I’ve been deceived by him all my life.”

“When my hands were bleeding badly, Edison mentioned something about Chandler’s niece while he tried to stop it. Can you tell me what he meant or if you even know?”

Bridgette and Wes glance at each other for one fleeting second to decide what they should do. They must know. Oh no. I think I just stumbled upon another dilemma?

“Lillian, can we find a place to sit down and talk?” Bridgette suggests. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“Sure. I guess. Am I going to hate what I’m about to hear?” My anxiety is at its all-time high. How can it top the information they just shared with me?

“Maybe at first,” she replies. And then I think it’s possible.

~~~~

I’m a Ly-Montgomery, granddaughter of Marcus Ly and Charles Montgomery. My mother is one of three heiresses to the Ly’s massive corporate empire which is comparable to Carson’s net worth. She chose to be a nurse and live modestly and privately when she could bathe herself in an overflowing tub of money and never work a day in her life. Why? Because she loves me first and everything else is insignificant. My parents were forced into hiding to keep me safe from my malicious grandfather and uncle. My mom never attempted to defy them, not even once because of the fear they instilled in her heart. They had threatened to take me away or kill us all if Marcus ever found out we existed. Charles had deceived him beyond repair. He knew Marcus would not easily overlook his trickery. My entire life has been a lie—not malicious but the sacrificing kind. Do I hold a grudge against my mom for it? No, of course not. How can I? “No one loves a child more than his or her parent,” is what my mom has told me for as long as I can remember. They didn’t fear for their safety. They feared for mine. Her lies are what have kept me safe all these years.

Bridgette and Wes recapped my mom’s story over coffee and a slice of lemon cake like we were having a casual conversation about the weather. Bridgette spoke calmly and factually, explaining any questions I had. I only broke down and cried pitifully once when they told me they didn’t know where my father was. Secretly, I had always thought he’d come back for me one day. My mom would forgive him after he’d confessed he’d loved us all along, and we’d be united as a family again. I guess not all fairytales can come true. They did their best to spare my emotions and I appreciated their efforts. God knows I’m already broken. Frankly, after everything I’ve gone through, accepting this information was a piece of cake, just like the one they just shared to the last crumb.

As the topic of our talk ran from one to another, I asked Bridgette about my missing jade pendant. “Was it a priceless heirloom that’s irreplaceable?” I couldn’t help feeling a great lost for it. She told me it had belonged to our great, great grandmother. It was given to her on her wedding day. Grandfather was burdened with the weight of his guilt when he forced my mom to marry my father against her will. He wanted to give her the one item he cherished more than any possessions he owned. He gave it to my father to offer it to my mother as a traditional wedding gift so she wouldn’t reject it. It was apparent to Bridgette that my mom still held a great amount of resentment for him from their exchange. She has no idea how deep my mom’s stubbornness can root.

I apologized for losing it to Bianca, but Bridgette assured me it isn’t lost. She insisted that if I swore I wouldn’t explode, she’d explain why. Excited, I agreed hastily. She told me Marcus had his men placed a bug on it while I was in a faulty elevator in Hong Kong. Oh my God! I remember that day. I panicked hysterically when the lights went out and the car stopped midway. Those guys were quick. It probably took Luke less than thirty seconds to find his flashlight before the elevator resumed its ascension again. What possible reason could Marcus have had that could justify his invasion of my privacy? I couldn’t think of one. That was completely wrong on so many levels. A furious blaze ignited inside me, ready to spread fiercely but I held it back with every fighting fiber in my body. I swore I wouldn’t even though it’d help level my anger. Marcus planned on tracking down my mother’s location with it, but they ended up using it to trace me instead when I went missing. Right away her story was inconsistent and I made it known to her. How could they have tracked it to me when Bianca took the necklace with her?

“Carson pursued you while we went after Bianca. His team had their own signal,” she revealed and then appeared sickened that she had slipped. Wes had the same expression on his face. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Carson had a tracker on me also. After all our talk about no more lies and being honest, he still bugged me. That controlling man has no limits or faith in me. My eyes ran the length of my torso and limbs to see where it could be hidden. I was upset and rightfully so, but not as much as I should’ve been. If it wasn’t for his possessiveness, I’d be dead in a hole somewhere. All I can say is thank the Lord he loves me that obsessively.