Page 146 of Forbidden
The first major obstacle is now close, and after thinking about it for the last few hours, I feel physically sick.
Telling someone who chose to be like a mother to you, that you did the one thing you were asked not to do, is messed up. But it’s got to be done.
Getting Storm back is all that matters.
45
LORENZO
After I find the right town in South Carolina, I locate the correct street. Martha’s home is cute and it’s good her garden has grown. After leaving NYC, and working for me, for a decade, I paid for her home.
Martha had found it, and she was going to buy it with all of her savings.
She is originally from here, and she wanted to retire back in the cute town.
Martha was reluctant I pay for the home at first, but I told it was the least I could do. I could afford it. I also reminded her, she’d done a lot of late nights, coached me on a few non work-related things in my life, and that it was an honor.
It was the least I could do.
Martha helped me build the movie companies up, and in some ways I could not have done it without her.
There is also the matter of Tommy, her dead son. I think in some ways, when he died in Iraq, I filled part of the gap.
The day we heard about Tommy, was a day I will never forget.
I’d found the broken woman in the office, and I took her to stay in The Hamptons. Alfred and I looked after her, and it was hell.
Tommy was almost all Martha had in her life, and seeing the sweet loving woman go through such pain, almost broke me.
Maybe that is why I feel so protective over women in my life.
After circling the home for several minutes, I decide to land in a park, and break another law. I drop the chopper between trees, and opposite her home, and I turn all systems off.
No doubt the small town, has few choppers and I’m embarrassed with the intrusion. As I cross the small tree lined street, I get a few weird looks.
That’s the least of my concerns. I’m nervous, and my breathing is scrappy, as I walk up Martha’s steps. I pat myself down, and try to look less rough. I’d stopped for outdoor clothes, and I have not shaven in a week.
I tell myself a white lie, that everything will work out fine.
It won’t, because I’m a complete fuck up.
As I step up to the old door, it slowly creeks open.
Our eyes meet, as Martha opens the door, slow. For the first time in a decade, she is not smiling, or even asking me in.
Oh shit, she knows!
But how much?
My mouth is dry, and I’m ashamed. “May I come in?” The woman in her sixty’s nods, and I follow her inside.
As she makes tea in the kitchen, I lean awkwardly against the old-fashioned sink and finally our eyes meet.
Man up.
Before I can speak, Martha does. “You need to leave her alone.” The words slice my heart in two. “Unless she is the one.”
“I never intended for anything to happen.” I say. “And I did try to stay away. She’s just, just so… loveable.”
