Page 53 of Her Wicked Hero

“Honey, it’s going to kill me to have you away from me, but it’s only an hour, and I expect constant visits,” Margaret Brockman had said.

The Brockman’s really had become surrogate parents and had done their best to stop her from taking on too much of a caretaking role, but it had been impossible. Looking back on things, Marcia knew that was why Mrs. B. had coaxed her to live on campus.

Then there had been the Rick debacle. She’d gone home a lot the first two years, but classes got intensive her junior year, so she needed to buckle down and found herself staying at school more and more. Then she and a girlfriend had rented an apartment, and she’d met Rick. Who knew she was considered an easy mark? A mark!

It’s not like he’d been the best-looking guy or anything, but he’d been so attentive and caring in the beginning, and she’d soaked it up like a flower soaked up the sun. He made her feel like she was the center of his world. When her roommate had decided to move out, Rick had moved in. Marcia had no reservations, she overlooked anything and everything because for the first time since her parents had died, she had someone in her life who made her feel totally loved.

Rick didn’t cook, he didn’t clean, he didn’t pay for anything, and when he made love to her, it didn’t feel all that good, but he listened, and he cared. He did the things that really mattered in a relationship.

Close to the end of her senior year, class had let out early on a Thursday. She’d gotten an A on her statistics class and wanted to cook Rick chicken Florentine to celebrate. He was in their bedroom on his cell phone.

“Jim, I can’t play poker this weekend. I need to spend it with Marcia.”

She felt so good hearing that.

“I’m pussy whipped all the way to the bank. Let’s do it next Thursday instead. I’ll just tell her I need money for my car payment.” He laughed. “Fuck yeah it’s paid for. She doesn’t know though. Man, I’ve got it so good, I’m going to marry her. Hell, I’m going to suggest we go house hunting next month.”

He paused while Marcia did everything she could not to drop the bag of groceries she was holding.

“Jim, not only that, I’m passing all of my classes because she does my homework. It couldn’t get any better.”

She went back out the front door and came back in, making a lot of noise.

“Hey Babe, you’re home early. How did your statistics class go?”

“I got an A.”

“Marcia, you amaze me. What’s in the bag?”

She finished out the school year. She put off looking at a house and became more and more distant with Rick. He finally got the message and went on to greener pastures. There never was any kind of confrontation. She graduated. She’d been in the process of applying for jobs when she’d gotten the call that Mrs. B. had collapsed from a brain embolism. Two days later, she was dead. She moved back in with the Brockman’s. They needed her.

Once again, Marcia had been dealt a devastating loss, but this time, she couldn’t show it. She was dealing with three daughters who had lost their mother and one man who had lost the love of his life. There was no time for her to be upset. She rolled up her sleeves and dove in. Ultimately, she failed.

Lesley got in a car wreck. She and a couple of friends had been drinking, but still, she’d sustained a back injury. They’d prescribed painkillers for a couple of months. Handling Christie and Debbie, Marcia had missed the signs that Lesley was using the drugs as an emotional crutch to deal with her mother’s death. So had Mr. B. because he was involved in all sorts of other projects as a coping mechanism.

By the time Marcia realized Lesley was abusing heroin, it was too late. She struggled to maintain the household and shield the younger girls from Lesley’s addiction. Marcia wanted to ensure Christie and Debbie had all the love that Mrs. B. would have given them. It wasn’t a hardship because they returned it.

Then things had blown up, Lesley had disappeared. It had been a horrifying time. Eventually, she’d come home, and there had been the first trip to rehab. Through it all, Marcia had done her best to maintain a home for Mr. B. and the girls. Then there had been the second bout of rehab. Mr. B. seemed to be finally coming out of his stupor, but for Lesley, it seemed to be too little, too late.

After she came out of rehab for the second time, things were precarious, and she disappeared again. It was the third time she went in for help that Mr. B. went on the speaking tour and took Marcia and the girls with him, and they went on that fateful yacht trip.

She wondered what would have happened if Borneo had never happened. Would she just have drifted and stayed with the Brockman’s? She loved those girls. She loved taking care of them, but they weren’t her daughters, and she realized she didn’t have a life of her own. She’d been wanting something more. That was why she took the job at JP Morgan.

Then all choice had been taken out of her hands after the Mall Mishap. She’d sat stunned in Mr. B.’s study.

“Marcia, I adore you. You literally saved my sanity when Margaret died. I don’t know what Christie, Debbie, and Lesley would have done without you. But I’ve been a selfish bastard, and I’m ashamed.”

Were those tears in his eyes?

“That’s not true. You and your wife took me in after Mom and Dad died. It was almost like I had a second set of parents.”

Harold Brockman looked at her and gave her a sad smile. “That was true when you were fourteen and Margaret was alive. We treated you like one of our own and did everything we could to nurture you. Especially Margaret.”

“And I loved you for it. I will do anything to pay you back for that,” she cried.

He looked down at her kindly. “And that’s where I’ve failed you. Somehow I’ve made you feel you need to pay us back for something that was our privilege.”

“I’m saying this wrong. I’m making you feel bad,” she protested.