Going to California?

Chapter 7 - Dr. Winterbourne Session 11

"My father called me yesterday," I told Dr. Winterbourne. I still couldn't get over the surprise. The last time he'd called was directly after Soldier Boy's attack on Vought Tower, to make sure I was all right. Once assured that I was, he'd had little to say and ended the call quickly. Yesterday hadn't gone that smoothly.

"Ashtree!" I winced a little at his nickname for me. I didn't want to remember being that young girl. She was soft and sweet and helpless, and I was no longer any of those.

"Hello, Roman. I'm returning your call."

"And quickly too. How are you doing?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. And yourself?"

"Can't complain. The muse is still with me."

"And now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, what do you want?"

He tsk-tsked at me. "Really, Ashtree, is that any way to speak to your father?"

"Maybe not, but it's the way I speak to the man who left me to deal with my mother's death all but alone. That's not something I'll forget." A dull rush of anger tried to assert itself, but I couldn't get a good temper going as I was still too much under the influence of the scene with Homelander. I'd discovered a secondary benefit of it—even if I hadn't had an orgasm, a sense of well-being suffused me.

He sighed. I pictured him, sitting on the big leather sofa in his Houston Street loft, colorful canvases of all sizes and in various stages of completion littered around. "I've apologized to you a thousand times, told you why, but I understand. The reason I called was to invite you to a showing. The Rappard Gallery in SoHo is doing a retrospective of my work. Of course the series I've done with you and your mother will figure prominently."

"Of course." It was my turn to sigh. "When is the opening?"

"Saturday night. I'll send you the address of the gallery."

"Roman, I have a date on Saturday."

There were a few long seconds of silence on the other end. "You're dating someone? Oh, I remember now. You're seeing that director, whatshisname, Boone?"

"Bourke. His name's Adam Bourke, but he isn't the one I would be bringing. If I go," I hastened to add.

"Good. I'm glad to see you're spreading your wings in the dating world. I always thought you kept too much to yourself.".

I bit back a remark about it being a little late to sound like a father. "I'm not sure it would be a good idea to come to the showing with him. He might pull focus from you. He's famous."

Roman sighed. "There will be a lot of celebrities there. It's my first retrospective. Who is this guy?"

"I don't want to tell you unless he agrees to come to the showing."

"You think I can't keep a secret?"

"I'm sure you can, but I'm not sure he wants us to be seen in public yet. It's new."

"Just ask him, Ashtree. It would mean a lot to me for you to be there."

I had some uncharitable thoughts about him playing daddy years too late but kept them to myself. "Okay, I'll ask him, but I don't guarantee anything."

"Yes, you've made that clear. It's all I ask."

Dr. Winterbourne brought me back to the present when she asked, "You said that you and your father rarely talk. Was there some kind of emergency?"

I shook my head. "He's having a social event that he wants me to go to. It's related to his career. I don't want to go, but I feel obligated."

"What kind of relationship do you have with your father?"

"Mostly nonexistent. He contacts me when he remembers I exist."

"Has it always been that way?"

"My parents were never married and never lived together, so he acted like a divorced dad right from the start, flying in with presents and attention and then dropping me when some new shiny object presented itself. I know that he loves me, in his way, but it isn't what most people would think of as a standard parental relationship."

"Do you know why your parents didn't get married?"

"They both spouted a bunch of nonsense about societal expectations and personal freedom and pieces of paper, but she would have married him if he'd wanted. I think, if they'd gotten married, that would have given her rights in his life, and claims on him, and he can't stand that. He couldn't just shrug her off whenever he wanted if she'd been his wife. He's also in a creative occupation, and his peers might have thought less of him if he'd been in a conventional relationship."

"You said once that she was the foundation of his world. That doesn't really fit with what you're telling me now."

"Oh, she was. He always came back to her when he got tired of his other women. There were a lot of those. She helped handle the business side of his career and he depended on her a lot."

"Like John depends on you?"

I stared at her in horror. "What?"

"He must depend on you very much, or he wouldn't be resistant enough to your leaving to make you afraid he'll become violent. If he didn't, it wouldn't make any difference to him whether it was you in that position at Weyland-Yutani or someone else."

The idea made my head spin. I could not be recreating my parents' relationship. I could see differences because I was privy to both of them, but I couldn't discount what Dr. Winterbourne said. "I hadn't thought about it that way," was my weak response.

"Has anything new happened with John? The last time we talked, you said you hadn't seen him since the incident after the dinner you had."

I swallowed. "I just want you to know that I made a bad decision there. Since I know this was a bad decision, you don't have to tell me it was a bad decision."

That almost got her to smile. "All right."

"I'm—I have a date with him on Saturday." At the last minute I chickened out on telling her about the scene we'd had. I didn't need to be told how stupid I'd been, under the influence of the physical response I had with him. "He—seems to want to try on a romantic relationship."

"Did he tell you why?"

"He said that he'd been interested in me for a while but hadn't thought the time was right. I'm sure that's just because he knows there's a chance of me taking the job with Zach and leaving."

Mercifully, she decided to drop the subject of Homelander, at least for now. "Last time, you said you were going to tell Zach about the situation with John."

My mood brightened. "I did, and he said he'd give me as much time as I need to separate myself from Weyland-Yutani. He also agreed to have some scenes with me to make sure we're compatible."

"That's good."

"I don't know if he's going to be faithful, though. In fact, I'm not even sure he was faithful to me this weekend. He made some excuses about work and wasn't with me very much. It's a crunch time at his job, but this was something planned in advance."

"Do you know if he's ever been unfaithful to you before this? Is this something that's been a problem in the relationship?"

"No," I was forced to admit. "I hear rumors, but he's in an occupation where rumors run amok. We haven't talked about whether we'll be monogamous. And I know that's something I should bring up, but I was too focused on the John situation this weekend for that."

"Does he want you to be monogamous? Has he given you any indication?"

"I think he does. I'd started telling him about John and he had a reaction when he thought I might be with John that was—it was weird, like he wanted to beat up John. But he would never do anything like that. He's always been very sweet with me." Except when he ghosted me.

"So he would react badly to you going on a date with John?"

"He wouldn't be happy, but there isn't the same danger as there would be if John were in that position."

"John knows you're having sex with Zach, though, doesn't he?"

"Yes. I don't think he's figured out yet how to put a stop to it. The date is probably his opening move to get Zach out of my life. He's very Machiavellian."

Even after yesterday's scene, Homelander showed up in my office to lie on my couch with me in the morning. I didn't want to admit it, but I'd started looking forward to it myself. Not this morning, though, because I had to address what my father wanted. I thought he could probably hear my pulse racing when I asked, "I know we were going to have dinner and a movie on Saturday, but is there any chance you'd want to go to an art showing instead?"

He frowned a little, but he didn't seem angry. "Who's the artist?"

"Roman Deranian. It's his first retrospective."

"I don't have any of his works. Why do you want to go?"

"He asked me to. Since he doesn't ask me for much, when he does ask for something I feel like I have to do it."

I felt his muscles tense. "I have to credit you for being a good ex-girlfriend. Will you show up to all my movie premieres if I ask?"

"What?" I started laughing. "No, he's not an old boyfriend. He's my father."

That seemed to surprise him. "Why isn't your last name Deranian, then?"

"My parents weren't married, and my mother's last name was Barrett. It's complicated. Can we not get into it right now?"

It was his turn to feel me tensing, so he dropped it. "Sure, we can go. I'd like to see some of his work, maybe buy a piece or two if it's to my taste. Does he have any paintings of you?"

"A couple of series, one of me alone and one of me and my mother, and I think he has some individual pieces. Nothing like family members to serve as captive models. But he has some landscapes you might like. Maybe a still life or two."

"Has Adam met your father?"

"No, I don't think I've ever mentioned to him that Roman's my father." For the first time I realized that Adam and I didn't have many conversations about our backgrounds, our personal relationships other than the one with each other. The discussion about Homelander was the most substantial talk we'd ever had. Mostly we talked about movies, our biggest common interest.

I heard the grin in his voice. "Then I'm flattered you've decided I get to meet your father first." Too late I realized how that could look but decided to ignore it.

Dr. Winterbourne said, "Lily, I do have to advise you that I'm going to have to cancel our next two appointments. I'm having a personal situation that requires me to be out of town for a week."

I almost didn't react to my fake name. "That's not a problem, Dr. Winterbourne. I hope your situation resolves itself well."

"Thank you. I'm going to give you contact information for the psychiatrist who's agreed to take my appointments for the week. Dr. Thomas Roth—he's very experienced and sympathetic."

"I think I can probably wait for an appointment until you get back. I'm handling what's going on so far. If something happens after the date, I'll get in touch with Dr. Roth. After that, nothing's happening until next weekend, when I'm going out to Los Angeles to see Zach."

The older woman gave me a mildly perturbed look. "I just don't want you to feel abandoned. You try to be as independent as possible, and I don't want you to think you have to handle bad situations with no help."

That made me laugh. "I promise I won't hesitate to set up an appointment with Dr. Roth if I need to."

On the way back to Vought Tower I couldn't help but beat myself up for not telling Dr. Winterbourne about the scene with Homelander. What was I paying for if I wasn't going to give her enough information to help me deal with my problems? I just did not want her knowing how weak I was, weak enough to compromise myself to explore the physical responses I had to Homelander. Taking the job Adam offered would be the safest choice, where things could continue as they had and I wouldn't have to deal with my own vulnerability.

Homelander was waiting for me inside my office. "Can you take care of Ryan this afternoon? I have to make a trip to Washington."

"No problem," I told him. "Anything I need to know about?"

"No." His face was cold, colder than I'd seen it since we started our little—whatever it was, and I suppressed a shudder. The return of the usual Homelander—who was the man who lay with me on my couch every morning and wanted me to dominate him so I'd stop being afraid? Not this one, that was for sure.

I nodded, tilting my face toward the floor. "Should I get dinner for Ryan or will you be back in time for that?"

"I don't know when I'll be back. You can get dinner for him. The driver should have him here about three-thirty."

"Yes, sir." I was careful not to reveal any emotion in front of him. What could have caused this sudden shift in personality? Had I been stupid to think things might be changing between us? Of course I had; if Homelander was anything, he was duplicitous. He was probably deep into some plot with Victoria Neuman—I'd bet money he thought I didn't know about her and their dealings—or against her, maybe. Maybe he was fucking her. He probably didn't consider our scenes infidelity. Even if he did, I'd heard rumors for years that he'd banged other women like a screen door in a hurricane when he was with Queen Maeve, and she was more beautiful than I ever had a chance of being. In fact, I didn't know of any woman in his life who wasn't stunning.

Homelander turned around and left without another word, and I went back to work after leaving a message for the driver that he should bring Ryan to my office when he got back to the Tower. I'd gotten friendlier with Ryan since Homelander had made me his de facto official babysitter, which I didn't mind at all as he was a sweet little boy. I hoped that would survive him living with Homelander and being exposed to his views about non-supes. The Jesuits said, "Give me a child until he is seven and I will show you the man," but neither Aristotle nor Ignatius Loyola ever met Homelander.

Ryan entered my office in a whirl of energy, dropping his backpack onto the sofa and heading straight for the bookcase where I kept the laptop with Minecraft loaded on it for him. "Hi, Ashley! Where's Dad?"

"He had to go to Washington DC this afternoon and didn't know when he'd be back, so it's just you and me for dinner. What do you feel like?"

"Not pizza. Can we have Chinese?"

"Sure, if you want. I'll call Joe's Shanghai and have some delivered."

"Crab and pork meat soup dumplings and beef with broccoli," he declared as he powered up the laptop.

I laughed. "Just like always."

"And the fried mini buns too."

"I wouldn't forget those." For myself I got sesame chicken with an appetizer of cold noodles with peanut and sesame sauce and an extra order of fried mini buns. I expected Ryan to lose himself completely in the game, the way he usually did, but today he pushed the laptop aside after I'd ordered our dinner.

"Are you and Dad dating?"

Be careful, I thought. Homelander had already told him we'd had a date the night I got drunk. "Sort of, I guess."

"Are you going to get married?"

Sweet tap-dancing Jesus. "We haven't even started talking about anything like that. We're taking things slow right now, getting to know each other. That would be in the far future, if it happens."

"But you've known each other for years. Why do you need to get to know each other any better?"

I knew Ryan could hear my heart, my pulse, my breathing, just like his father could. What he'd make of my elevated vitals I didn't know, but I couldn't lie to him directly. He'd sense it—a chip off the old block. "We didn't know each other in a man-woman kind of way. We were employer and employee, and that isn't a solid basis for an emotional relationship."

Ryan shrugged. "Are you in love with him?"

I took a few moments to answer. "I don't know yet. We don't know each other well enough for that yet."

"Does he love you?"

This kid just would not let go. "You'd need to ask him that. I don't know how he feels." If he feels. But that was unfair because I knew he did have feelings, but, other than his son, I didn't think he loved anyone on the face of the earth, definitely not a nondescript human like me.

Ryan seemed to accept this and went back to playing Minecraft until a security guard brought up the food. I took him back to Homelander's apartment and we were in the middle of dinner when he showed up. He seemed nonplussed to see me. "What's the occasion? I don't think I've ever seen you having dinner with Ryan here."

A coldness settled into my bones. "You asked me to get dinner for him since you had the trip to Washington and didn't know if you'd be back in time for that, sir."

Homelander knew he'd made a mistake. "I just thought you'd get dinner later, so I'm surprised you're already eating." But he was only trying to cover, and a thought occurred to me. He doesn't remember seeing me in my office, telling me about the trip and to get dinner for Ryan. He can't remember that at all. Why shouldn't he be able to remember? What might cause that? It was something I needed to do some deep thinking about when I was back at my apartment, alone.

"Since you're home, I guess I can leave you guys alone." I started to get up, but he gestured at me to stop.

"Ryan, Ashley and I are going to a gallery to look at paintings on Saturday. Do you want to come along?" That was a stroke of genius on his part; Ryan would act as a buffer between us, plus he'd get to see first-hand how I interacted with his son.

"My father's the artist," I told Ryan. "It's a big deal for him. But it might be a little late for you."

Homelander scoffed. "Ryan will be fine. If he gets tired, we'll just come home."

He thought about it for a minute, then said, "Sure. I like paintings."

"Then it's settled," he said. "We'll all go to Ashley's dad's showing." I nodded in agreement and managed to pry myself away, anxiety chewing at my insides. Why had Homelander done this? Maybe he couldn't find a babysitter other than me? Maybe he actually did want to see if Ryan and I got along. But this issue paled next to my suspicions about him, about why he didn't remember seeing me, about the sudden personality shift. I hoped I was wrong, but there was only one person who could either confirm or deny my fears.

Stan Edgar.