Free Strings Attached by Nick Nolan Page A

Heather Whatever was impersonating her.
    “I’ll never forget seeing her for the first time at the high school swimming championships, after Jonathan had placed first in the butterfly competition. We had unwittingly sat next to her in the front row of the bleachers, down by the pool’s edge. I didn’t know at the time who she was, but I took one look at her and thought, That girl is trouble. Imagine my horror when Jonathan rose from the water in his black swimsuit, all glistening muscles and white teeth, and this squealing bimbo ran to him and pressed her breasts against his half-naked body.
    “The rest is history. Of course, she ‘accidentally’ became pregnant by him; and even though every girl in the country was routinely running off for abortions, Tiffany remembered suddenly that she was Catholic and had no choice other than to have the baby. And predictably, Jonathan offered to marry her.
    “Of course, I knew the only reason she wanted the baby was because it would be her ticket out of the trailer park, which it was, literally; her family actually lived in a mobile home if you can believe the cliché. She and Jonathan married shortly after the end of the school year and took up residence in the guesthouse at the rear of our property. Naturally, they were miserable.
    “You were born in March following their graduation. But if I had been opposed to her having decided to keep you, after you were born I was equally relieved she’d made the decision she had. You were the most agreeable and beautiful baby, so calm and quiet, never a trouble to anyone. Everyone loved you; even I began thinking myself a grandmother.”
    His aunt paused for a moment, deep in thought, staring intently out to sea, the faint breeze tousling her hair. Suddenly the waitress appeared, and with a flourish placed the wrong dishes before them.
    “Enjoy!” the girl piped.
    “The other way, dear,” she corrected. “And a better Chardonnay this time.” She tapped the crystal rim. “Or better yet, a glass of that lovely Viognier that Maurice keeps in back.”
    Jeremy watched with interest as his aunt’s tongue loosened with each sip of wine, and he began to feel afraid of what he might hear next. He stabbed at his salmon steak; she ignored her salad. A fly landed on the rim of her plate, and she waved it away absently.
    “As I’m certain you know, your parents were ill-suited as a couple, and they grew visibly more unhappy with each passing week. Your mother left one night, taking you with her, claiming that Jonathan had hit her during a disagreement, which, of course, he had not. She even called the police and tried to press charges.
    “We assumed that divorce was imminent, and I consulted with the family lawyers and a private investigator about deeming her unfit to care for you. After all, you are Jonathan’s son and would eventually inherit a substantial share of the Tyler holdings.
    “Of course, your mother’s family got involved in the dispute; they all had a nose for other people’s money. In any case, both parties began building cases for when the time came for custody to be determined.”
    “But why would my mother’s family want to keep me?”
    “Jeremy, dear, has no one told you that on your eighteenth birthday your trust becomes available to you?”
    “What trust?”
    “ What trust? Good Lord, that woman! She’s kept you in the dark about everything, hasn’t she?”
    “I guess…”
    “I’ll explain the Tyler Trust to you with the assistance of the family attorneys at a later time. Suffice to say that this coming March you will be a wealthy young man. But please allow me to finish my story.”
    The waitress returned to deliver Katharine’s wine and to refill his tea. Jeremy watched his aunt skewer a plump pink shrimp with her fork, swirl it in some dressing, and pop it in her mouth without a sound, chewing noiselessly while dabbing at the corners of her mouth with the end of the napkin that she kept anchored on