I wasn't planning on updating today, but then inspiration hit me.
Chapter Four:
I was holding an ice pack to my eye in the kitchen when Nico appeared.
"Sophia just called," she said. "She wants her son released and the charge of assaulting a federal agent dropped because he didn't know you were one."
"I'll drop the charges tomorrow," I said. "A night in jail shouldn't kill him."
She sighed and slumped into a chair.
"I really wish I could say I was surprised by their behavior, but I'm not," she said. "Uncle Jacob tried so hard. He paid for the best rehab for both of them multiple times. He occasionally tried tough by making them sit in a jail cell overnight like you are. But the influence of their mother is too strong."
"I don't know much about Sophia Tulane," I said. "I know she remarried seven years after the divorce, to an Alexander Tulane, a multimillionaire investment broker."
"He lives in New York, she spends most of her time in California," Nico said. "Their marriage is mostly for show. She looks good on his arm, as she is twelve years younger than him, and she likes spending his money. She has a drop-in role in the Real Housewives franchise."
I groaned.
"I really have no use for the gossip pages of newspapers."
"Uncle Jacob didn't either," she said. "He'd prefer to spend the night reading technical research than go to charity events where money is basically tossed between charities run by wealthy friends."
"What did he see in Sophia?" I asked.
"Approval from his father," she said. "He had just gotten back in his good graces by graduating at the top of his class from college and Sophia Ellison was the daughter of a good friend of the family. He was basically matched with her."
"How did you find out the relationship wasn't based in love?"
"My father's journals," she said. "Uncle Jacob hated how he disappointed his father with his attitude in high school and was desperate to prove himself. My own father tried harder to be good because he saw what disappointment did to his brother."
"I have no idea what that is like," I said bitterly.
"I know," she said softly.
"Did he ever think about reaching out to me?" I asked.
"He made sure your mother was the non-placebo half of that study you put her in."
I swore and slammed my hand on the table.
"Why didn't he tell me!?" I shouted. "My mom doesn't remember my name half the time and I think she would have liked having him around."
"He did," she said.
"What!?"
"I can show you the letter later, but after your father divorced your mother, he wrote a letter to her expressing interest in taking care of you and her. He was already a millionaire at the time. In the letter, she says no and threatens to call the police if she ever sees something she doesn't like. Your mother didn't want his money and threatened to go the media and claim he seduced her."
Painful tears formed.
"How did I never know about this?"
"I did read up on schizophrenia, and so I think you probably would have attributed one of her manic episodes to the illness rather than her being agitated by my uncle."
I stared at the table.
"Spencer," she said. "He also visited you in the hospital once."
"WHEN?" I said disbelievingly.
"One of the things Jenson Tech specializes in is contaminant removal. That is the focus of the Africa division. The government requested access to a product that was still in development. Uncle Jacob became personally interested, applied some makeup, created a fake identity, suited up, and used his own tech to break into the hospital you were staying in. Yes, he broke laws to see you."
"I was so out if it," I said. "I was also alone."
"In his writing, he wrote he held your hand and promised to take care of you."
I closed my eyes and tried to focus. It a took some time to place the memory. Then it came:
"You are my pride and joy. I wish I could do more for you. You are stronger than anyone I know. I know you can't remember everything you hear like you read, but know that I am watching and I love you."
"You look like you could use a hug," Nico said.
All I could do was nod.
She held me tightly as I cried. I had a father who loved me. Who only abandoned me because it was what my mom wanted. It was too much.
"I have something to show you," she said once I let go of her. "Follow me."
"About a month after his cancer diagnosis, he began renovation a wing of the estate he had left for Sophia," she said. "When we asked him what it was for, he said it was going to be a special place for his family when he died and to wait to open it until after he died.
The door had a passcode.
"Enter your birthday," she said with a smile.
I opened the door and the wing was massive. Artwork that I had admired over the years hung on the walls. I saw a door that resembled a police box and my jaw literally dropped when I pushed it forward. It was an exact set replica of the fifth Doctor's TARDIS.
"Welcome aboard, Dr. Reid," Tom Baker's voice said to my complete shock. "I'm glad to have you help me on the next great adventure."
I closed the door and walked across the hall. A set replica of the Enterprise from Star Trek was set up.
"Welcome Dr. Reid," Patrick Stewart's voice said.
"We are greatly pleased to have an officer your quality on this ship," Brent Spiner, the actor who played Data said.
I left the room gob smacked.
Nico was smiling.
"The NDA signatures alone are worth at least fifty grand."
I opened another door and found a two-story library. Another revealed a personal dressing room with clothes that would appear to fit me perfectly. There was room with a grand piano it. An office with a high-quality computer. The bathroom had a massive spa tub. Finally, the bedroom had all my favorite books lined up where I could reach them at night.
"How many laws did he break learn this much about me?" I asked numbly.
"I think he is thinking right now, it was all completely worth it to see the look of joy on your face right now."
I sat on the bed.
"Do you mind staying on the estate tonight?" I asked. "I'm not used to living some place this big alone. I hope I don't sound creepy."
"You don't," she said. "I'm happy to stay. My understanding is that before the cancer diagnosis, he preferred living out of the penthouse by the company research facility. He thought creating a Malibu estate was something he had to do. Not something that he wanted per say."
"You really loved him, didn't you?" I said.
"He was like a father to me," she said. "I really couldn't have asked for a better one."
"I don't think I could have either," I said.