67 #Hush

Horror filled Teddi.  In fifty years, no one had ever made the connection that Randolph was her father.  Despite the remarks that her Peabody eyes made it look like she was born into the family instead of adopted, nobody ever realized that she was a Peabody by birth.

 

Or did they?

 

Perhaps they’d known all along and simply been talking about it behind closed doors.  About the poor bastard child who wasn’t fit for Randolph to claim as his own.  Perhaps they’d been whispering about her every single time she went to one of those damnable public functions.

 

No.  If they knew, it would’ve been in the society pages.  The news outlets certainly would’ve mentioned it after Grandmother’s or Randolph’s passing.

 

Then again, she hadn’t looked.

 

“Answer me, Pierce.  Why did you say that about Endicott and his father?”

 

“Isn’t it true?” he asked kindly.

 

Unfortunately, her anxiety didn’t care how kindly the information was presented.  It went into overdrive with the possibility that the entire world - or at least Boston - had been in on the secret and made her look like a fool in the process.

 

She sprang to her feet, shedding Jon’s hand from her thigh and blindly moving past Pierce in her desire to escape the room.  To escape the two men who sat there.  To escape the altered possibility of her very existence.  To... escape.

 

With the worthless necklace digging its filigree imprint into her fingers, Teddi strode down the entrance hall in a beeline for her office.  She barely registered Jon calling after her or growling, “You fucker.  That selfish bombshell just derailed the little bit of progress she was making.”

 

She slammed the door on Pierce’s apology and fumbled for her desk drawer while trying to shut off the overwhelming thoughts and emotions.  Tripping over the caster wheel on her desk chair, she caught herself on the arm and dropped into it, still pawing in the drawer.  Tidily stacked papers were shoved aside as she dove for the far back corner, where she’d “hidden” the Xanax bottle yesterday with the impossible dream that the one she took before going to David’s might be the last. 

 

Lying next to Jon last night and listening to his soft snore had made her want to change.  To be better so that what they had might last a bit longer.  She’d been willing to try, but look at her now, gripping the amber plastic vial like a junkie and groaning in frustration when she found only one left. 

 

Damnation!  It will have to do. 

 

She tossed it in her mouth, where it skidded down a desert-dry throat without the aid of water before she dropped the empty bottle back in the drawer. Her fingers instinctively sought the filigree pendant as the swivel chair slowly rotated toward the fishbowl.

 

Fancy fins in shades of orange, black and white floated in the water as the Fish Pack traversed the silent waters of their home.  Sammy bounced his snout on the glass before turning to swim back the other direction, and his tail skimmed Frankie’s golden top fin.  Dean meandered along in a fishy stagger with no apparent rhyme or reason to his movements, while Joey watched contentedly from the edges of it all.

 

The repetition of Sammy’s lazy laps and the hypnotic swish of fins drew Teddi in, capturing her full attention.  She allowed herself to be mesmerized by the unhurried and relaxing motion, because in that quiet, isolated aquatic world, she could block out the voices that mocked her for believing that secrets stayed hidden.

 

Minutes passed, or perhaps seconds.  Lost in the mindlessness of fish, she couldn’t really be sure how much time had lapsed when she heard Jon’s quiet, “Baby?”

 

“‘She says 'baby'.  I love it when she calls me baby’.” Teddi lyric-quoted one of his lesser-known songs without turning. 

 

A wide palm molded to the curve of her nape as gently as his chuckle.  “I don’t even know what fucking song that is.”

 

The unashamed admission had Teddi inching her head around with a half-smile.  While his tone was light, she caught a glimpse of concerned features that only made her feel worse. 

 

“It’s ‘Hush’.”

 

“Christ, that’s a random one.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“Know any more of it?”

 

She knew it all, but her chaotically addled mind chose to put the chorus on her lips.

 

“‘She don’t talk about love.  We don’t talk about us.  What we don’t say with words, we say when we touch’.” She squeezed her eyes shut in mortification.  Of all the parts to quote, that was not the wisest choice.  It implied... things.  “Damnation.”

 

“Hey.”  His hand drifted from her nape to travel down her arm, skimming the elbow as it passed.  When he found her wrist, he lightly cuffed it and tugged until she stood.  “They’re just lyrics.”

 

Right.  Just lyrics. 

 

Only when Jon folded Teddi into an easy embrace, they didn’t feel like just lyrics.  His touch spoke a language only her body understood, because her mind certainly didn’t. 

 

He tucked her close, touching lips to a spot high on her cheekbone, making it easy to hear his murmured, “Everything’s okay.”

 

“It most certainly is not okay,” she argued, trying to rear back out of his embrace while he held tight.

 

“‘Hush.  Come wrap your arms around me.  We don’t have to talk tonight now’.” 

 

Teddi’s forehead puckered with her frown.  “You said you didn’t know those lyrics.”

 

“I lied,” he said without apology, again tucking her body into his.  “I swear to God, everything’s okay.  As soon as you settle down a little, we’ll go back into the living room and that moronic fuck can explain it to you like he did me.”

 

“He’s not a moronic fuck,” she mumbled against his shoulder as the heat of their melded bodies went to work on the ice water running in her veins.  “He’s a very nice man.”

 

“Nothing says you can’t be a nice moron.”  The dry, matter-of-fact delivery struck her as funny, and although it was in incredibly poor taste, she giggled.  “That’s my girl.”

 

My girl. 

 

Teddi was equally enamored, appalled and terrified at his ability to straighten her ruthlessly tipped mind.  A hug and a few simple words from this man restored her equilibrium. 

 

“I don’t need people.  I do just fine on my own.”

 

“Everybody knows that,” he agreed, unfazed by the digression.  “Doesn’t mean you can’t do just fine with ‘em, too.”

 

“Mm.”

 

It wasn’t a point she was willing to concede, nor did she feel compelled to argue it.  The neutral acknowledgement was the coward’s way out, and the lionhearted man who held her didn’t understand or respect the right to cowardice.

 

His arms didn’t loosen any, but he drew back far enough to peer at her and quietly chide, “You know I’m right.”

 

“I know we’re being rude by leaving Pierce to his own devices, even if he did toss a metaphorical pipe bomb in my living room.”

 

“I don’t give a fuck about rude or Pierce, but you need to hear how he knows what he does.  It’ll make you feel better.”

 

He said it with enough conviction that Teddi wanted to believe him, but she was reluctant to step outside the safe harbor of his embrace.  Blinking up at him, she softly asked, “Does that mean the entire world doesn’t know?  That I haven’t been the butt of private ‘bastard’ jokes my entire life?”

 

“That’s exactly what it means.” 

 

Blue eyes glowed with a shade of reassuring confidence that invited her to trust him.

 

There were many things Teddi would give away without a second thought.  Advice, expertise, charitable donations, flowers from her garden, cookies.  The one thing she was selfish with was trust.  She’d been burned too many times.

 

But not by him.

 

Jon had been nothing but open and honest with her, and that earned him a sliver of the precious commodity she held in short supply.  Because she gave him that bit of trust, she also took this quiet moment alone to ask, “What do you think I should do about the offer?”

 

“I think you should do what you think is best for you.”

 

“You don’t have an opinion?”

 

“Oh, I’ve got one,” he assured with a chuckle.  “But it’s filled with bias toward the guy who’s waiting to ride up on some fucking white horse and rescue you from me.” 

 

With rolled eyes and a clucked tongue, she said, “I don’t need rescuing.”

 

“You need rescuing from yourself, but that’s a different conversation.”

 

A different and much longer conversation since he wasn’t wrong. 

 

“Could we put that aside for a moment, along with your unfounded bias?  That’s not pocket change he’s offering, and it would feel awfully good to deliver a hit to Endicott’s bank account.  You’re much more business savvy than I am, and I’d appreciate your input.”

 

A sigh lifted and dropped broad shoulders as those blue eyes lost a bit of their confidence.  His gaze danced around the room with indecision before finally returning to her.  “He knows Endicott’s your brother.  He knows some of the family history.  He obviously cares about you.”

 

“I’m asking for an opinion on the contract, not on Pierce.”

 

A silent exhale flared his nostrils.  “Fine.  Do I think this is a no-brainer?  No.  Do I think he’s done everything he can to turn the tables in your favor?  Yes.  Peabody is a vindictive son of a bitch who could find a way to keep your share, but Pierce has your back.  Worst-case scenario is that you have ten mil and Peabody has majority ownership.  Doesn’t mean I still can’t make my minority ownership a pain in his ass.”

 

“So you think I should take the deal, even though Grandmother didn’t want shares exchanging hands within the family?”

 

“I’d rather you sell you share to Lema, but he won’t offer you that kind of money.”

 

David.  The man who had thrown the first metaphorical pipe bomb at her yesterday, and who had followed it up with a firecracker today in the form of his quasi-bullying.  It was just an explosive kind of weekend in her normally placid world.

 

“That isn’t a legitimate option, since he hasn’t expressed any interest in the company.”

 

“You could let me buy it.”

 

She considered it for a fraction of a second before rejecting the idea.  “When all this first happened, I would’ve said yes, but not now.  I don’t want your money involved in our relationship.”

 

“Okay.  Sounds like you’re either taking Peabody’s offer or taking your chances as my business partner.  Which is it gonna be?”

 

Was business as bad a relationship ingredient as money?  Truth be told, it was probably worse, but if she was his partner in name only, it wouldn’t matter.  He would be the one running the company.  She would merely be one of those silent partners.

 

But ten million dollars.

 

“I don’t know.  It depends on how I feel after I hear Pierce’s explanation.”