Treasure Hernandez

Idlewild


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that nowadays her children came to the summer home out of a sense of obligation, but no one on the outside looking in knew much about the inner conflicts plaguing the Johnsons.

      This summer was already shaping up to be drama filled, and they were barely a month into it. For years, Carolyn had walked hand in hand with Ernest into the high-class house parties of the Idlewild elite, although her family life had been shattered to pieces a long time ago. Years ago she’d smiled and told several people that her daughter, Desiree, was away in Europe, studying history, although she and her husband had all but banished their middle child for becoming pregnant at sixteen. Carolyn had felt the guilt of that deep in her soul every single day, and no number of happy moments after that had washed away the pain of what they’d done to Desiree back then. Carolyn had cried many nights from just thinking about it, but she’d made the choice back then to stand by her husband, and that was that.

      Ernest had fallen ill not so long ago, and Carolyn had dedicated herself even more to the role of doting and caring wife, although for months she had been contemplating how to get even with her husband for all his years of philandering, which had forced her to kill herself inside to hide her pain from her children. Carolyn had put on a brave face for years, but she was tired now. She didn’t know how much more of a show she could put on. The fake smiles and all the lies were wearing on her.

      She had literally watched her perfect life fade over the course of many years. And now she was in a loveless marriage, one of her children was estranged, one was growing into a version of her husband, and the other was a total disgrace, if Carolyn did say so herself. While he had vengeance on her mind, the fact that her husband was terminally ill also scared her half to death. She’d become so dependent on Ernest that the thought of him leaving her behind terrified her to the point of nausea.

      Carolyn closed her eyes when she heard footsteps approach from behind. She flinched as her son, Ernest Junior, placed one hand on her shoulder and pecked her on her cheek.

      “Hello, Mother,” Junior said, taking a spot right next to her. “Nice weather these days.”

      The small talk before the bullshit, she thought.

      Carolyn cracked a half-hearted smile, her back going rigid and her shoulders stiffening. She knew what was coming next. She’d heard her son stirring around the house earlier, and he never got up early during the summer months unless he was up to something.

      “I’m going to get out of here. I have some important business to take care of back in Chicago,” Junior announced. He set something down next to him. She looked down and saw his suitcase. She rolled her eyes and bit her bottom lip. She could feel heat rising in her chest, and her hands involuntarily curled into fists. Junior noticed too.

      “I won’t be gone long. I promise. I’ll be back in time for the annual all-white affair. I know how much that means to you,” Junior added quickly in response to his mother’s body language. He knew that keeping up appearances for his parents’ friends was more important to his mother and father than anything.

      Carolyn turned toward Junior, abruptly causing him to take a step back. She moved in like a lion toward its prey. “Did you forget that your father is dying and your sister is coming into town today, after years?” she asked, her voice low, almost a growl. She eyed her son evilly, her nostrils moving in and out. She had one shaky finger jutted accusingly toward Junior, and her other hand was balled up so tightly that her nails were digging moon-shaped creases into her palm. She was tired of playing the role of the quiet, sweet wife and mother. The stress was mounting from all sides, and she wasn’t about to let her children get away with their shenanigans any longer.

      “I didn’t forget. I told you I have a very important business meeting in the city,” Junior replied, annoyed, pushing her hand away. “I already told Pop. I told him I’d be back, just like I’m telling you.” Junior refused to look his mother in the eyes. He immediately grabbed his suitcase and started down the stairs. In his assessment, there was nothing else to talk about. Junior knew how their confrontations would end up. He had long ago grown tired of his mother’s constant guilt trips about how she thought he acted around his sister, Desiree.

      “So that’s it? You’re just leaving your family? Your father is dying, for God’s sake! Is that what you want on your conscience? You think running away is the answer?” Carolyn barked at her son’s back. “She is your sister, and no matter what, nothing will ever change that, Junior! Your family comes first!”

      He ignored her and rushed down the front steps.

      “Junior! I’m talking to you!” she called out again.

      Before she could say another word, Junior flopped down into the driver’s seat of his Mercedes-Maybach and slammed the door.

      Carolyn rocked back on her heels as she watched the car ease down the long stone driveway toward the road. That was it. Just like that, one of her children was gone again. Carolyn had been through the same thing so many times, she had come to expect it. It had been so many years since she had seen all three of her children in the same place at the same time that it was easy to forget she had three children, that is, until they did things to bring shame to their family’s name.

      Carolyn could feel her heart throbbing against her chest bone now. She guessed this was what a broken heart felt like. It wasn’t a new feeling, and she didn’t know why it always felt like a fresh wound. She silently chastised herself for being so emotional all the time. It had been almost seventeen years since their lives had blown up and her children had been ripped apart. None of them had really recovered. She closed her eyes to stifle the angry tears threatening to fall. Then she headed into the house to check on her husband.

      “I just hope you are prepared for what you’ve asked for, Ernest,” she mumbled as she entered the house.

      * * *

      Carolyn heard the hissing sound of the oxygen tank even before she reached the doorway to the master suite. She paused, leaned her back against the wall just outside the room, and closed her eyes. Seeing her husband in this weakened state was taking a toll on her. He’d been her everything for so long that she couldn’t imagine life without him. Even when he had done things that were contrary to their happiness, Carolyn had still held so much love inside for Ernest. They had met almost forty-two years ago and had been together since.

      The day they met, Carolyn, had been working as a server at a posh dinner reception in Idlewild, where she was spending the summer season. She had stepped over to a table full of what she knew were rich people visiting from the city to serve them coffee after their fancy dinner. As she poured the hot drink, her eyes had danced up, and she’d locked eyes with a handsome young man. He had to be the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her short eighteen years of living. He was definitely better looking than any boy Carolyn had ever laid eyes on in her tiny Michigan hometown.

      Carolyn’s perfect caramel face turned red when the beautiful guy cracked a smile at her. His striking grin caused her hands to shake so badly, she’d almost spilled coffee on their table. Carolyn rushed away, embarrassed and scared to death that she might lose her job. It was her first summer season and her first month at the restaurant. In Yates Township, Michigan, there weren’t a lot of jobs in those days, and so when Carolyn graduated high school, she knew she would have to try something different. Most of the girls from her town went to work in Idlewild either as waitresses or housekeepers, and Carolyn felt she had won the lottery when she landed a job in a restaurant instead of having to clean someone’s house. Losing her job would be a devastating blow.

      “Oh my God,” she huffed as she rushed toward the servers’ area, her heart galloping. Carolyn put down the fancy silver coffeepot, let out the breath she’d been holding, and wiped her sweat-drenched hands on the little white server’s apron she wore around her waist.

      “You’re stupid if you think that city boy was even thinking about you,” said a stern female voice.

      Carolyn jumped and spun around at the sound of her boss’s voice. “Um, no. I . . . I . . . wasn’t,” she stammered, her eyes wide with fear.

      “I saw him smile at you and you look at