Enter The Black Oak: Chapter 32

A FEW HOURS LATER, tears trickle down my mother’s sweet face as I finish telling my parents about the whole sordid story of Jack and his affairs. I tell them what I know about Alex and Lydia, leaving out the more graphic details of what I saw on that balcony and pointedly omitting any mention of the Black Oak Society.

Stella passes my mom a tissue that she uses to dab away a tear as my father paces up and down near the fireplace on the other side of the coffee table in Redwood’s living room, looking like he is studiously trying to keep a lid on his emotions. Cameron is sitting stone-faced in an armchair nearby, his eyes trailed on me. Stella keeps shooting me regular loving smiles, though I sense concern brewing beneath a carefully composed exterior as she and Cameron exchange occasional stern glances.

As I wipe my mother’s face, she suddenly embraces me, hugging me tightly against her. Feeling her love and concern unplugs the dam I’d built up to prevent myself from getting upset and I find myself trying to stop tears from rolling onto my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore.”

“Sweetheart, you can cry as much as you want. It’s much better to let it out than let it eat you up.” My mom’s usually confident voice cracks as she talks.

“I don’t want to be with him anymore, mom. I can’t live the way he wants me to. It’s not a life I can ever feel happy with. What if I were to get pregnant or something? He’s never going to be faithful. I need to start divorce proceedings.”

“Are you sure, darling?” she asks.

“Of course she’s sure, Diana! Jesus! This is no way to carry on a marriage for fuck’s sake!” my dad exclaims in a totally uncharacteristic explosion of vulgarity.

“Dad, it’s okay. Calm down. Everything will be okay. I just need to—”

“That shit calling us five times a day, acting like the concerned husband while screwing everything with a pulse,” continues my father, his face now an unhealthy shade of mauve. “And I sat opposite that Frost bitch at dinner the other night! Jesus!”

“Dad, stop, please. You’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

“I knew it was going to end up like this with him. I just knew it!”

“Philip, stop! You’re not helping,” barks my mother.

I glance over at Cameron who watches me softly as my mother shifts into planning mode.

“I’ll call the lawyer when I get home,” she announces, her voice resolute and determined. “Look, she has an iron-clad prenup. There is no reason at all why this can’t all be sorted out quickly and painlessly. Jack obviously still cares about her—”

“Yeah, he really cares all right—while stiffing half the Tri-State area!” yells my dad. “From the state he’s been in the last two days, there is no way he’s going to take this. The shit is going to make things as difficult as humanly possible.”

“Stop it!” orders my mother. “We don’t know that. He’s obviously going to react like a crazy person. He’s worried. He doesn’t know what’s going on. His wife just upped and disappeared, no explanation. From the look of things, he clearly still cares about our daughter very much. We can use that to our advantage—get him to agree to a quick divorce, in Jessynia’s best interests.”

“What do you think the chances of him doing that are?” Dad asks, addressing Cameron and Stella.

Stella looks down as Cam starts to speak slowly. “I’m not sure they’re good, Philip. Jack has never loved a woman before—not like this. And even though he can’t imagine Jess would stick around after all the times he’s cheated on her, I don’t think he’s going to take her leaving lying down. And he’s not an enemy that anyone would line up for. Jessynia needs to tell him it’s over as soon as possible and make it clear that nothing will change her mind. If he senses any weakness in her, he’ll work on it. He’ll try and get under her skin. He’ll tell her how much pain he’s in and she won’t be able to stop herself from trying to help him and it will all start again and—”

“No!” I insist. “That will not happen again. I can’t live my life in a constant state of fear every time he leaves the house. It’s beyond what I can overlook.”

“It’s best if you don’t see him,” adds Stella. “Get the papers filed as fast as possible. Tomorrow’s Monday. We can arrange for a moving company to get your stuff, but you have to bite the bullet and call him tomorrow. He called me about five times today, showed up at our rental house a couple of times yesterday, got some tattooed thug to come and speak to me and Kevin. We haven’t seen him today, so he’s probably in Manhattan. He calmed down after I told him you would call him tomorrow.”

“Jesus Christ! Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I could murder him!” I reach over the coffee table and grip Stella’s hand tightly.

She smiles at me, her expressive hazel eyes crinkling up gorgeously. “Hey, I told you. I’m a big girl. Jack doesn’t frighten me. Not one bit. The only thing I’m concerned about is you.”

An hour and several phone calls later, we agree on the best plan I’ve got: we’ll get the family lawyer to draw up the papers tomorrow morning and we’ll get a top process server to make sure he gets them fast; I’ll move into a secure service apartment that Stella is arranging; I’ll call Jack and explain that I need a break and will arrange for a moving company to get the few things that matter to me out of the apartment sometime in the next couple of days. I’m a bundle of nerves just thinking about it—especially imagining Jack’s reaction—but at least it’s some attempt at a plan.

“What about tonight? Should I come back with you?” I ask my parents.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” my mother answers. “He’s been by the house several times.”

“I could stay in a hotel in the area. Give them a fake name or someth—”

“I want Jess to stay here,” Cameron interjects firmly.

“Cam, stop. We agreed—”

“I can look after her here. She’s safe. Jack will never find her. Plus, there’s a security company that patrols the whole area every night. I can call them if ever there’s an issue.”

“I think it’s a good idea, Jessynia,” says my dad.

“Dad, I don’t want Cam— If Jack found out—”

“He won’t,” interrupts Cameron. “This is one of the few places he won’t think to check. Everywhere else—your family’s places, friends, hotels, anywhere you use your credit card—he’ll be on it. This is by far the safest place you can be.”

My mom puts an arm around me. “He’s right, sweetie.”

Stella nods in agreement.

After some more gentle persuasion, I give in and agree to stay another night. As I do so, I wonder whether I’m being sensible or whether I’m playing with fire…

A couple of hours later as Stella and my parents put on their jackets and prepare to leave, my parents approach Cameron who is standing near the front door.

“Thank you so much for looking after our girl,” says my mother with unbridled gratitude in her gravelly voice. “I’ll be able to sleep much easier knowing she’s here with you until all this blows over. I want you to know what we really appreciate it, young man.”

My dad reaches out his hand to shake Cameron’s. “We’re very grateful, sir.”

“It’s my pleasure,” replies Cam. “Your daughter’s looked after me plenty of times. I’m just returning the favor.”

“Well, if there is anything you need,” my mother says with a touch to Cam’s arm, “just give us a call and we’ll be on it.”

As Stella drives off, Cameron heads back inside after saying goodbye to my parents. My dad kisses me and gets in the car and my mother cups my face with her hand.

“Be careful. Call us if you need anything.”

“Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can.”

I pause for a moment, not sure if I really want to know the answer.

“Is it true that when I was ill, Cam sent me letters and tried to come see me and you and Jack didn’t let him?”

My mother looks as though she’s about to protest for a second before stopping herself. “Yes, it’s true, sweetie.” She lets out a deep sigh. “Jack thought it would be bad for your recovery, what with how stressful it was for you when you and Cameron fell out. We all thought it would be best that you weren’t exposed to any additional stress while you were still so sick. We thought we were doing the right thing. Did we do wrong?”

I exhale slowly and feel a weight I didn’t know was there lift off my body, leaving me suddenly feeling ten pounds lighter. “No, mom. Of course not. It’s just… I feel like I’ve been trying to put a jigsaw puzzle together in the dark, and then suddenly the light comes on and all the pieces fit.”

“Well, baby, seeing ugly things in the light is always better than seeing nothing in the dark.”

I nod, smiling into her large green eyes. I’m so grateful for my devoted parents and for how much my relationship with my mom has evolved and how much softer she has become with age. Well, most of the time…

Moments later, I shout for them to be careful as I watch their car roll down the driveway. Heading back into the house, I call out Cameron’s name. No answer. I go to the kitchen to see if he’s there, but he isn’t, so I wash up the dishes that we’ve just used as I try not to think of Jack. However dysfunctional a relationship may be, facing that moment when you admit it’s over, even if the truth has been looming over you for a while, is not easy. This time, it is over… but it still burns. The ache is insidious, burrowing deep into my flesh, deep into my bones like a scream trapped inside me. It hurts in places I didn’t realize it could.

“It is over,” I whisper. “Over.”

Despite the ache, as I utter the words aloud, I feel another weight lift from my body, as if I’d been carrying around a bag of bricks that I’ve suddenly set down and walked away from…

As I finish washing up quietly, I spot Cameron—in sandals, shorts and a T-shirt that expose his flexing limbs—dropping something into a small white row-boat tied to a jetty in front of the house. He runs up the ocean-front lawn and bounds up the stairs.

“Put this on,” he orders, handling me a lifejacket and yanking me out of my melancholy.

“Um, why do I need these?”

“Because I’m taking you somewhere. By boat.”

Cameron was always one for dragging me and our friends on spontaneous adventures at college. Apparently, he hasn’t changed as much as I thought.

Some mild coaxing later, I find myself sitting in the boat as he rows us effortlessly along the rugged shore through one of the many small bays that dot the northern coast of Long Island.